Somebody Stop Me

I've really lost it. My mind is gone and I don't remember where I put it. Why, you ask, have I deemed myself "crazy"? I'll tell you why...

I'm running the Dexter/Ann Arbor 5K on May 31st AND I convinced The Sprite, aka Alicia, to run it with me.

My reasoning? To see if I can actually make it through the 5K without throwing up, cramping up, giving up and/or dying. It was the trip to the shoe store that did me in. Oh, Running Fit you sneaky thing! All the shiny postcards about running events with full color pictures of happy, bouncy runners on them sucked me right in. Somewhere in the twisted, ridiculously over-confident recesses of my mind I figured that I should actually run in one of the events prior to The Rose Run.

Yeah, good idea, Mel.

Then I realized that I had picked up a second postcard for a trail run. I think I picked it up only because it was purple and had a cute name...Flirt With Dirt. After all, purple is my favorite color. The run is on a dirt trail and starts/finishes on top of the sledding hill at a park. It sounds painful so why am I so intrigued? WHY? This is more evidence that proves beyond a doubt that I've lost it. Now, I haven't quite mentioned this run to The Sprite yet so let's keep this in between you and I, okay? I'm hoping that we do so well on the Dexter/Ann Arbor 5K that she'll agree to this one. Either that or I'll end up throwing in my running shoes for good and drowning my sorrows in a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos.

I have exactly 4 weeks from today to convince my body that it can and will run 3.1 miles without stopping or passing out.

Smells Like...Poop Trees

The path I take while running is the sidewalk that surrounds the neighborhood I live in. Now that Spring has sprung, supposedly, the trees that are planted on the easement are in full bloom. They look beautiful and I have always admired the gorgeous white flowers when I drove by them during this time of year.

The appreciation has come to a screeching halt.

While running past these trees the other day I smelled something. It was a smelly smell that smelled like...well...poop. Manure. Number 2. You know what I'm talking about. So I mention the fact that my olfactory unit was being assaulted by this smell to Alicia who was bouncing along next to me in her sprightly fashion. She says to me: "It's the trees."

WHAT?!?

Yes, the trees that I had been envious of for years. The trees that look like they are draped with delicate snow and shiver beautifully in the wind are actually POOP SCENTED. As we ran down the sidewalk the smell was almost overwhelming. In my mind I was thanking my lucky stars that we did not plant one of these trees in front of our house because I would be forced to take a chainsaw to it and dance around it's dismembered body...while I plugged my nose of course.

I think the smell actually hurt my time running. Either that or it helped my time because I started running faster to get past the trees. I'm really not sure.

I'm also not totally sure what the "technical" name for the Poop Tree is...I think they might be Bradford Pear Trees but don't quote me on that. They stink...literally and you can quote me on that.

Oh, My Soles Sing

Yep. Got me some new shoes. I took them for a 2 mile test run last night.

I could still feel my toes after I finished the run. What a difference a pair of shoes make! The rest of my body was screaming in agony and I think my right lung collapsed a little bit but my feet...my feet were rockin' the house...or the sidewalk, whatever. Running in warmer weather was a bit challenging and I felt like I had been dipped in vegetable oil by the time I was done. It was enough to make me want to crawl out of my skin. Ick.

In all seriousness, good running shoes that are properly sized should be the first investment for anyone who decides to start running. I cannot believe the difference in the way my body feels. It's not just my disgustingly wide, flat feet that felt the improvement but my back and knees and even my shins felt better than they have in previous runs. I really wish I hadn't waited for so long to get them. It's my fear of committment...wait...no...it was my lack of money.

My fearless friend, Alicia, just might be investing in a pair of tiny running shoes to match her tiny, sprightly body this weekend. That means I'm going to the running store. Again. Oh, the socks and the water bottles. I'm losing my mind slowly, people.

Now I suppose I have no excuse but to add distance to my run. I still have to be able to run a little more than another mile on top of the 2 that I can currently/barely run. I think I'm going to let my body get used to the idea of 2 miles though for the time being. I'm also going to add some weight training on the days I don't run. I really want to tighten up the jiggly mess that is my abdomen because it's just downright depressing. I can't blame it on my baby anymore-she's going to be 6 in June! In the meantime...you may call me: Jigglypuff.

1 Foot, 2 Foot, Flat Foot, Wide Foot

Did you get the play on the children's book title above? Hmm?

Moving on...I got new shoes this weekend. To the joy of my feet, especially my baby toenail, I got fitted for real, honest-to-goodness, running shoes. I went to an actual running store where the wonderful staff is knowledgeable about all things running. Running Fit in Ann Arbor, Michigan is the place that I went for this foot themed goodness. If you look to your right, you'll notice I listed them on my 'Good Stuff to Read' list.

Oh, the places I'll go now that I have the soles that my battered feet have been crying out for! I'll go here and there...I'll go anywhere! I can run with a mouse, I can run by my house...Ok, enough with the Dr. Seuss-isms. I have never been fitted for shoes like I was fitted for shoes there. First, the girl who helped me asked me to remove my shoes and roll up my pant cuffs...*insert eyebrow raise*...okie dokie. She then asked me to walk away from her in a straight line and then back towards her. Now, I am completely intrigued as to just why she wants me to do this but of course I comply and walk the walk. After I complete my strutting as requested she looks at me with no effort in trying to mask her amusement and announces, "You really don't have any arches at all, do you??"...she's smiling openly now and obviously trying not to laugh. I smile and shrug all the while cursing all the years that I've worn flip flops which have caused me to ruin my arches. Then it gets even more strange...she doesn't ask me which shoes I want to try on, she doesn't ask me what brand I like, she doesn't even ask me what freaking color I like! She disappears and brings out a few boxes of shoes and says, "Let's try these first." Well, wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am.

Now, according to the shoe goddess that is helping to prepare my tootsies for running, each shoe type/brand has a different type of arch support, width, and cushioning. It's very important to wear the proper shoe for your foot type or you'll die while running. No, I'm kidding, you just risk injury and at the very least, you're toenails could fall off. Wait, that happens sometimes anyhow if you train for marathons and other longer events...which I do not have to worry about since I'm not able to run past 2 miles at this point.

Thank goodness I can keep my toenails for now.

After several pairs of shoes and her proclaiming at one point, "You have REALLY wide feet, too." *sigh* I find my oasis, my soul mate in the form of shoes...Asics Foundation 8 running shoes. They give me arch support, they don't pinch my toes or the tops of my feet and they're pretty spiffy looking too considering I didn't even get to pick out the color. They don't even make my "Fred Flintstone" feet look so "Fred Flintstone-y".

I also picked up some Body Glide and some postcards for a couple of other 5K's. I know that you want to know what Body Glide is...Google it. This is the stuff that will keep my thighs from bursting into flames from rubbing together. Try not to focus on that. Seriously. Also, I can sense the concern you have for me in reaction to me picking up information about more running events. I truly think that it may have been a moment of temporary insanity. I mean, the smell of the new shoes, the wall o' runnin' socks, the multiple flavors of GU (again, Google it) stacked neatly on a shelf...and don't get me started on the fancy water bottles. It was merely an environmental reaction. I'm fine now. I think.

WOO-freaking-HOOOO!

I ran 2 miles.

Without stopping.

Just now.

I mean, at one point I was "running" so slowly that I might as well have been walking.

I may actually be able to walk faster than I was running during that last 1/2 mile...

Nah.

I'm schweaty.

I hurt.

I definitely need new shoes because I think my baby toenail is getting loose.

Gross.

But at least you can't smell me from where you are.

Things could be worse.

I RAN 2 FLIPPING MILES!!!!!

10 Out Of 10 People Agree...

Anyone who has read anything that I've written over the past month or so knows that I love to whine. About everything. The physical pain of running is no fun for me. I've never been a strong runner. My legs are short and when running with other people that have average length legs I have to take about 2 strides to their 1. Place me with a running partner any taller than average and there is just no way that I can keep up without falling over from a massive coronary. It's helpful when I'm wallowing in my self-pity to remind myself why I'm doing this.

I have more than one person who inspires me to keep on keepin' on. Of course there's Rose, ever optimistic and uplifting throughout her battle and my original inspiration to run in this event. Then there's Carrie, young and beautiful and overwhelmingly brave. One of my closest friends, Missy, had to put her goal of having a family to get treatment for cancer. She emerged with a wonderful sense of humor and a beautiful baby boy. As I stop to think about the people that have touched my life on one level or another I realize just how many have been attacked by this monstrous disease. I wonder if they ever stopped to feel sorry for themselves? If anyone is entitled to do that, cancer victims are surely one group that has earned that luxury.

There are strangers that I see in public that wear pink ribbons for themselves or a loved one. I've seen women and children that wear a scarf to protect a head that is missing hair. I wonder what their stories are. I hurt for them and their family. I think about all of the people who have had close calls with cancer. I've felt the fear when a friend tells me that they don't know what it is but "the test results will be back next week". I've felt the rush of relief when those results are negative and the grief when they aren't. This disease blows. I'm running so that hopefully my daughter doesn't have to go through the awful anxiety that this causes.

*sigh*

Have no fear, my sarcasm is merely on a union ordered lunch...It will be back in 30 minutes. Hey, don't laugh, those union standards are strict...

Hello, My Name Is: Swampfoot

The most wonderful part of living in Michigan isn't the potholes, the year-round construction, or the fact that at any time most of our pocket change is Canadian...the most wonderful thing about Michigan is the weather. Yep. During most weeks it can and will and does rain, snow, reach 80 degrees, and just for fun, we may get some fog. See, I've lived in this grand, mitten-shaped state for all of my 31 years and I've never had the intelligence to move someplace more...balanced weather-wise. That doesn't mean that I don't get upset or even mind-numbingly angry when we have 70 degree weather one day and freezing rain the next. Running to me is torturous enough without added environmental stress...like large, bottomless puddles.

I'm dedicated though; die hard!

It was during last night's run that I realized very quickly that my shoes are not even close to being waterproof...and I look like a drunken hobo when I run on grass trying to avoid above mentioned puddles. Luckily, I had on proper socks or my feet would have been a blistering mess. I kept going though and finished my second 1 1/2 mile run.

Ah, Michigan...America's soggy, left hand.