Spotlight on Captain Awesome

Today was the big day! I checked the race website last night so that KISA and I could lay out our plans for Race Day. We set our alarms for 5:45am and 6:00am to make a race that started at 7:00am. We were rushing around to get our race rest only to wake up after what seemed to be five minutes after we fell asleep. Captain Awesome said it best, "That was the shortest night ever." He is so wise beyond his five years... We got our pre-race bagels and headed out the door.

We arrived at Custer Road United Methodist Church and noticed that it was pretty... Ummmm... What's the word? Oh, yeah. Empty. We went inside the church and were promptly asked if we needed assistance. I said, "We are here for the Fun Run. The website said the it was from 7:00 - 8:15." I was informed that I misread as registration was from 7:00 - 8:15 and the Fun Run started at 8, which makes sense. Why would a one mile run/walk last 75 minutes? So what do you do when you are over an hour early with a rambunctious five year old? Entertain him as best as possible. Luckily the staff at CRUMC were very considerate and overly helpful in making sure that our hour plus was as comfortable as possible.

I won't bore you with all of the details. Let me just say. Captain was... AWESOME!!! He absolutely killed it on this race. I was able to keep up with him for about 1/10th of a mile before he began to pull away from me. Every time he turned a corner, he would stop and look for me. I would yell, "Captain Awesome, keep going". At 3/4 of a mile, I mad an emergency call.

Gasping for air, I immediately gave KISA instructions, "Keep you (huff) eyes open (puff). He's (gasp, huff, puff) smoking me." KISA would later say that it was the funniest phone call he's ever received.

My precious little boy crossed the line 45 seconds (KISA says it was at least a full minute) before me. When I crossed the finish line, he was there to give me a high five.

I decided to interview my little man to get his insight on his experience. I hope you enjoy:

Mommy: How did you feel when we were at the start line of the race?

CA: Happy because it was my first race.

Mommy: When you were running and turned around and didn't see mommy, how did you feel?

CA: Sad. Actually still happy. I meant that.

Mommy: So, you weren't scared when you didn't see mommy?

CA: Nopity*, nopity, nope.

Mommy: When we went on training runs, you always wanted to rest, but during this race, you ran the whole thing. How did you do it?

CA: Because I just wanted to ruuuuun.

Mommy: What was your favorite part about running the race?

CA: CROSSING THE FINISH LIIIIIINE!

Mommy: What did you not like about the race?

CA: Nothing. I liked everything, everything, everything.

Mommy: How did you feel about running faster than mommy and a lot of other people older than you?

CA: Happy

Mommy: You got a really cool hand painted medal at the race. What are you going to do with it?

CA: Wear it all the time.

Mommy: Why do you like it so much?

CA: Because I earned it.

Mommy: Are you going to run another race?

CA: Nopity, nopity, nope.

*Please give me some leniency on how to spell the words of a five year old.

The next day, Captain Awesome woke up with sore legs. Ahhhh... Now that is a sign of a good run!

**Again, a big shout out to our hosts, Custer Road United Methodist Church. We ran the Esperanza 5K serving Juntos Servimos. The Esperanza 5K Race is in support of the work of Dr. Nancy Rodriguez and Larry Cox at Casa Bugambilia near Matamoros, Mexico. Casa Bugambilia shelters ill and abandoned persons until they can be reunited with their families. It is a center for diabetes prevention and treatment. It provides medical care and physical therapy to people without access to quality health care. Casa Bugambilia advances the education of children through preschool learning readiness classes, tutoring and education enrichment. The 2012 Esperanza 5K Race raised over $44,000 for the people in need in Matamoros, Mexico**

EAT, PRAY, RUN, REPEAT

Today I put on my running necklace with the above words on it. I strapped on my Garmin heart rate monitor, laced up my running shoes and put out the perfect BondiBand for my run. I picked out my purple band with a turtle that says "wanna race?" as it matched perfectly with my purple t-shirt; which also had a turtle on it with the words, "I am running" across the front. The advice of those that came before me rang in my ears.

"Nice and easy." "Don't want to re-injure yourself." "Slow and steady wins the race." I was more than curious as to how this run was going to play out. The only plan I had when I reached the door was to finish. I would jog. I would walk. I would listen to my body... Er, my feet.

I took one last look at my necklace... I would definitely be doing a lot of praying during the next X amount of miles or minutes I could survive. I walked out of the door and felt the fresh air. It was sixty four degrees with a light breeze. Knowing that I was going to be in this weather RUNNING, put a smile on my face. I began to lift my feet to start my run, "OUCH"! I had gone back to boot camp this morning. I lost track of how many squats I did. This was going to be tough. Just having enough strength to lift my legs was taking so much effort. I laughed out loud (luckily there were neighbors outside) and thought "this is going to be 'fun'". I felt as though I was shuffling, and not the "Everyday We're Shufflin'" type of shuffling. The "are my feet even getting off the ground?" type of shuffling. I had to do something because if these darn feet didn't get up, I would be tripping FOR SURE! I made it to the corner of our subdivision and decided I needed a plan. Yes, Captain Obvious at your service yet again!

I shot for one minute running, two minutes recovery. That was boring so I then decided I was going to run until I couldn't and then take a minute to recover. After a mile, I gave myself two minutes to recover. I had to stop a few times to stretch and limped just a tad, but I FINISHED! I did two miles. Two real miles... If I am going to get specific, which I am, it was 2.02 miles.

I learned three things during this run:

1. Two miles is too far for my foot at this time.
2. Limit the squats when I am planning on running on the same day.
3. I realized just how much I missed running in our neighborhood.

Today's mileage: 2.02
Total time: 32:21
Average pace: 16:01 (hey, at least I was out there)

Excuses Are Like....

It's been a while since I last blogged. The last time I blogged was about my weight loss. That was November 2010. A lot has happened since then. I completed my first half-marathon, got less than five pounds away from "goal weight", became a certified personal trainer (which made me so freaking happy), began training with the company that helped me to lose all of my weight and strengthen myself.

The past year plus also brought some emotional downs. I had to stop training professionally (with the company I mentioned above), I had a number of health problems which I felt that I couldn't share with all my friends, loved ones and former employer. That made me stop training and made me an emotional mess... Let me stop and say... I allowed myself to react negatively. I had spent the middle of November through the first of January in bed. I couldn't drive, I couldn't balance, I couldn't do basic things. I allowed myself to be sad and forget about all of my training.

I am not happy. I will allow myself to be happy again. I got released from my orthopedic surgeon yesterday and was even given a cortisone shot to keep my other foot pain at bay. My other medical issue is under control. I am looking forward. I am learning self-control and attempting not to hit the fast forward button so that I don't agitate any of my injuries.

I've allowed so many excuses turn me into a person that I don't like. I am writing this as I watch my recording of The Biggest Loser (and eating pizza). This season is about "No Excuses" and overcoming the common weight gain excuses. Some of the excuses include:

I'll start tomorrow, I have no self-control, I don't know how to cook healthy, I feel too lazy, I don't have enough time, I'm a food addict, I'm an emotional eater, I have a serious injury, I don't have a gym membership or I just don't care.

How many of these have you said? How many times have you said, "Enough is enough"? I still picture myself as woman that was over 211 pounds. This is a person I don't want to be again. You have to "start now" so that tomorrow you will be a day ahead of your goals. Lack of self-control will get you in a place that doesn't bring happiness. Start with one "vice" at a time and focus on that for a week. The next week, start with something new. There are a ton of recipes and magazines that will teach you how to "eat clean". Pick one up and actually try the recipes. Exercise gives you more energy, which gets rid of the feelings of laziness and fatigue. Thirty minutes a day is enough to change your life and your health. YOU CAN FIND 30 minutes a day. Find another outlet for your emotions... Running, crocheting, yoga, Zumba. If you must, find a professional to help you get through your food issues. You can even find food addict groups. Don't believe me? Google it! You don't need a gym membership to exercise. You can exercise with your body weight, in the comfort of your living room. Grab a big whiff of fresh air and go for a run/walk/jog.

"I have a serious injury." I used this as my excuse for a long time. Even though I couldn't use my foot, I could have done some strength training, ab work, etc. Instead I allowed my emotions to get the best of me and put me in a place that I don't want to be. See, I DO care. I do care and I care enough to do something about it.

***This is my first post in a while. It is not well thought out. It is not full of insight or well constructed sentences or paragraphs. It is an outpouring of the scary place that is know as my brain.***

Why Weight?

It's that time again, people. You just finished eating the last of the Halloween candy and are starting to salivate over the Thanksgiving menu. You will load up you plate and go back for seconds as your stomach is screaming, "No more!" Then, there are the Christmas parties that begin the first weekend in December. Not to mention the frantic Christmas shopping. You are so rushed, you just grab something quick in the food court. Finally, Christmas arrives and it is a replay of Thanksgiving. As you are laying sprawled out on your couch, unbuttoning your pants, you begin hating yourself. You start listing your New Year's resolutions in your mind. If you are super motivated, you write them down. "January 1st brings a brand new me!"

I have to ask. Why are you waiting?

Last year, I began my 30+ pound weight loss the day after Thanksgiving. I got up on Black Friday and didn't hit the sales - I hit the gym. That feeling, in a deserted gym, brought on such pride that it was almost sinful. I felt liberated. I was liberated from that woman that sat on the couch depressed about the person she had become... The unhealthy, clinically overweight, lazy individual. It was time to ditch the excuses and do something... NOW. For me, that "now" was after a gluttonous Thanksgiving.

What is keeping you from taking action now? Why are you going to wait until the New Year? Think about how far ahead schedule you will be if you start now? Don't be one of those people that says, "I'm going to do as much damage to myself through the holidays and start fresh on January 1st." DON'T BE THAT PERSON. Do not disrespect yourself enough to allow that to be your plan of action.

There are so many things you can do for yourself this holiday season. Decide to place smaller servings on your plate. To help you with this, switch your dinner plate for a lunch or salad plate. Take a walk around the neighborhood after the holiday meals. During your holiday shopping, put some healthy snacks in your purse to fend off the desire to hit that food court. Sip on water while you are looking for that perfect gift for Aunt Susie and you won't get into that hunger mode.

I am not only writing this for my readers, but for myself, too. This injury has had a bigger effect on me than I would like to admit. The cookies, the sodas, the hours of television watching are slowly morphing me into that woman I never wanted in my home again. So, I am taking action once again. I am starting NOW. When I sit down with my family on Thanksgiving, I will thank God for my health, my family and friends. I will also thank Him for giving me the strength to make this change. Will you be able to do the same?

My journey (please excuse the cheesy drill team pose):

10 Reasons Why I'm Glad It's Fall

As previously stated, there won't be much to blog about since I'll be unable to train. I went over to Mama's Losin It and took a gander at her writing prompts. Prompt #565: 10 Reasons You're Glad It's Fall. On this chilly, rainy, dark day, I thought, "perfect".

1. Sweaters: I am constantly cold. It will be the dead of Summer and I will have the heater on in my office as I am wrapped up in my sweater or blanket. With the temperatures dropping, it is time to bring out the sweaters. Even though I'm constantly cold, I will take cold weather over hot weather any day. You can always add layers to get warmer, but there are only so many items you can take off to get cooler - and not land yourself in jail.

2. Boots: They go with skirts, pants, jeans, slacks, dresses - and yes - some braver, trendier individuals even wear them with shorts. You might be able to get away with boots during Spring and Summer, but you have no worries when its Fall. Suede or leather, all is well in Fall. You can totally change the look of an outfit with the addition of some great boots.

3. Blankets: You can also include Snuggies in this category. There is something about the warmth of an inhabited blanket. It is so toasty and welcoming that you cannot tear yourself out of its embrace. Whether it partners you reading a good book, or drinking a hot cup of tea, it tops off the evening of sheer perfection.

4. Family Gatherings: Thanksgiving is one of my favorite family holidays. Fall marks the time that you get to see those family members that you typically don't get to see everyday. Fall means my father's house is busy and loud. It means that we are closer to the even bigger holiday - Christmas!

5. Comfort Foods: Tortilla soups, baked breads, various creamy soups, turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce. This is a list of foods that make me all warm and fuzzy inside. These foods don't really mix well with other seasons (maybe with the exception of the cranberry sauce). They fit perfectly with Fall.

6. Texas Weather: The only thing consistent about Texas weather is the inconsistency. Texas Fall does not bring extremities one way or the other. You get the dark, stormy weather. You get the windy but sunny. You get heat. It provides variety and keeps one from getting burned out by any one season offering.

7. Fire: With the temperatures dropping beginning in Fall, it is time to bring out the firewood and poker and start up a fire in the fireplace or fire pit. Watching the fire speak - with its crackle, pop and spark - is riveting. I can stare at a burning fire for hours... Well, maybe not HOURS. The fireplace is usually reserved for couple's movie night. The fire pit is an invitation for friends to gather and chat around the fire. Either way, it is utter enjoyment.

8. Tights/Leggings: Fall means that my razor gets some much needed time off. There is nothing worse than trying to shave when it is cold. Why bother? I don't want to be subjected to wearing only pants due to my disdain for shaving during the cold Fall mornings. Tights and leggings come to the rescue during this season. I can throw on either under a dress, skirt or tunic and look fashionable. The days that I do decide to wear pants, I can pull on a pair of tights under my trousers and add a little bit of warmth throughout the day.

9. Hot drinks: I'm not a big fan of coffee style drinks. My hot drinks of choice are tea and cocoa. Those are two types of drinks that you typically don't see consumed much during the warmer months... On this side of the pond, that is. I can enjoy my hot tea and not be uncomfortable. And thanks to a friend's suggestion, my peppermint tea fits right in during this particular season.

10. Lists: Anyone that knows me, knows that I am a list maker. It helps my organization and OCD tendencies. Fall brings me to a time of the year where I can wave my List-Making Freak Flag high in the sky. I make Christmas gift lists, Christmas card lists, home improvement lists - and most importantly - New Year organizational projects. Woo hoo!!! I start making my list of organization boxes and containers so I can hit the sales at the beginning of the year and beat those whose New Year's resolution is to "clear the cutter".

I Couldn't Sleep

My nerves were absolutely shot Thursday night. I had joked about all the forms I had to sign that mean I had to acknowledge this foot surgery could result in worsening of the condition, loss of feeling to the limb, paralysis, stroke, need to amputate the limb and even death. When the PA was going over the forms and she rattled off all of the surgical risks, she said, "If you understand these risks and agree to the procedure, please sign here." I looked at her and said, "Oh yeah, sounds like a great deal. Sign me up!" People always say that the only minor surgery is surgery happening to someone else. As the day grew closer, that saying laid heavier and heavier on my heart!

I tried to stay busy that night. Thankfully I had a great diversion; the Texas Rangers were playing the second game of the World Series (their first Series appearance in the history of the team). In between innings I was gathering my supplies and packing my bag for the following day. Diva and Captain Awesome noticed what I was doing and made requests of what to take to the surgery center. I added their suggestions to my pile.

1. Diva's dog "Maxie": She has had this puppy dog since she was four. Maxie has gone through various surgeries; herself mostly with her front, right limb. She's lost stuffing and her nose. Diva told me to take her. She would make my feel safe and comfort me.
2. Captain's dog "Mommy Daisy": After he heard Diva ask me to take Maxie, Captain told me I could take his Blue Blankie - which is his security blanket. However, he changed his mind and said he just couldn't go without Blue Blankie and asked me to take Mommy Daisy instead. Mommy Daisy is Captain's version of Maxie, only younger and darker.
3. Get well card: Not long after Diva learned that I was having surgery, she stayed after school and visited her favorite teacher from last year. Together they made a get well card for me. Diva asked me to please take it with me so I would remember that she cares about me.
4. Cleansing cloth: I was told not to wear makeup during the surgery. I had to go to work to clean up all of the items on my to-do list and there is NO WAY I was going to go to work without make up.
5. iPod: Doctors never run on time, do they? Needed the music to keep my mind off of the tick tock of the clock.
6. Promise Me book: This is the story of the Susan G. Komen organization, an organization that is very dear to me. I brought this for the same reason as the iPod.
7. Purple cross over backpack: With being on crutches, a purse isn't the most practical option for me to carry... Well, all the junk I carry in my purse.
8. Purple yoga bag: Even though Friday was our Halloween party at work, I couldn't go to work in my "Surgical patient pajama outfit." So, I packed a bag with my pj's for the ride home.
9. Meds: Mmmmm... The good stuff. I was told to stay on top of the pain and bring the drugs to the surgery center. There is some good stuff in that bag!
10. Crutches and boot: Doing what the peeps told me. They told me to bring them, so I did. Did I use them? Nope!

At eight o'clock the kids and I moved into my bedroom to finish watching the game (KISA was at a soccer game). Inning after scoreless Ranger inning, I finally gave up and went to bed (thankfully it was before the San Francisco massacre of the Rangers in the bottom of the eighth inning). Before the kids were put to bed, Captain Awesome was worried that I was going to be hurt during my surgery. He asked me what the doctor was going to do. I decided to just explain the bone spurt - the other procedures were just too technical for him. I explained how my bone was growing a hook that hurt my foot. With his hands, I showed him how your heel is mostly flat but mine wasn't. I asked him if he understood and he very articulately explained it to me. The next morning, he had to show KISA what he learned (see picture).

I went to bed but did not fall asleep. Whether it was the blinking light of my laptop or the swoosh, swoosh, swoosh of my ceiling fan, I could not fall asleep. The Hubs came home from his soccer game and I was still awake. I was finally able to doze off and was awaken to a blood curdling screaming cry. Captain had a nightmare and was in our room saying, "Mommy I miss you." He was hysterical. I shot out of bed to comfort him. I held him while I swayed back and forth. I let him to settle into bed with me and snuck a peek at the clock... Well, that was about 45-60 minutes of sleep, possibly. Score one for Syl!!!

After Captain was calmed down and fell asleep, the freight train in my bed was now keeping me awake. KISA is having some sinus/cold issues which was causing his snoring to be exceptionally loud. (Love you, KISA) I grabbed my purple earplugs. Yes, purple - is there any other color? Placed them in my ears and they just didn't do a darn thing for me. Frustrated, I went to sleep in the living room. It was a good decision, for about five minutes. Daisy, KISA's dog, has her bed in the living room and she was also sleeping.... And she was also snoring and dreaming. Between her snores and legs rapidly moving (I guess she was dreaming that she was running), I was feeling a strange combo of frustration and delirium.

About the time I was determining whether or not I should yell or cry, Hubster went into the kitchen and began making breakfast for me. The anesthesiologist had called me the afternoon prior and went over the rules and regulations of anesthesia. He said that I could eat up to 4:00am, day of surgery. Woo hoo!!!! At this point, things were getting better and better. At first I was told that my surgery was going to be scheduled at 2:45 and I couldn't eat after midnight. Yikes! Then, I received a call that informed me there had been cancellations and my surgery was now scheduled for 12:45 and the midnight rule still applied. So needless to say, after I was told the magical time was 4:00am, I was ecstatic. The hubby stepped up to the plate, literally, and made sure I had food in my belly so I was as comfortable as possible. I truly have the best guy. Yet another reason why I call him KISA.

So, with hubs in the kitchen, I decided to crawl back under the warm covers on my bed. Captain was still there so I cuddled up to his royal cuteness. I don't know if I was hoping to get some sleep in, but if that was my intention it wasn't a lucid thought. I blame it on sleep deprivation. Not long after I was back in bed, KISA came in with my breakfast - migas. I had been craving this dish for a couple of days and he decided to make it for the first time. As I told my aunt - only after she asked - "The gringo migas were great." Ha, ha. I ate up the yumminess and was again frustrated. I was beyond tired, but knew I couldn't get any sleep. I got up and took a shower. Sleep was pointless at this point. After my shower, I think I might have gotten thirty minutes to an hour worth of sleep. It's all a blur.

I went to work for a couple of hours because my to-do list had grown longer and longer the day prior. I had not second to waste. I found that to be a blessing in disguise. I was so busy that I couldn't really think about how hungry I was; however, I couldn't' stop thinking about how thirsty I was. I'll spare you those details. At 10:27, I received a phone call from my boss man. "Sylvia, it's almost 10:30, don't you need to get out of here?" I confirmed his statement. "Well, get going. Don't be late. But I have a question before you go...." I just had to include that in this blog because I was really tickled by that exchange. "You gotta get going, get out of here, but before you do can you help me?"

We arrived at the surgery center at 11:15. I overheard that they were running ahead of schedule. In the waiting room, I saw a number of individuals and only one pair. Hmmm... Was I one of only two folks waiting for surgery? You have to bring a responsible person to drive you home and take care of you. This lobby must be mostly those "responsible people". How ahead of schedule were they running? I tend to over think things. That statement isn't surprising to those that really know me

I filled out the paperwork and settled into one of the chairs, turned on my iPod and broke open my book. I listened to about four or five songs until they called my name. I was putting things away and saw the nurses face... She was obviously in a hurry. I followed her and immediately thought, "This chick needs to switch to decaf." She explained that we needed to "book it" because my doctor was running ahead of schedule and does not like waiting. She rattled off instructions for me to get ready in the restroom. I hadn't even gotten my clothes off and she was knocking on the door, "Are you ready yet?" Geez women! I just got in here. When I got out of the restroom, she just kept saying, "We gotta book it. He's rocking and rolling. We gotta book it." Don't' get me wrong, she wasn't being rude. She was actually starting to make me giggle. I asked her how ahead of schedule he was running and they told me 45 minutes. Rock on!

I finally got to the stretcher and it was my turn to hurry them up. I started giving my orders, "OK, I'm here. Give me the drugs. I'm sleep deprived. I'm tired. Put me to sleep." My doctor stopped by to say hi. He drew a winky face on my big toe and walked away. He can be so weird sometimes. I mean, I already wrote on my foot to let them know which one they need to cut open. The anesthesiologist came by to give me the "good stuff". He said hello and asked if the hubby actually got up and cooked me breakfast. By the way, my husband is a hero in that surgery center. The story of him getting up at 3:00 to fix me breakfast spread amongst the nurses. They informed the anesthesiologist he could take some lessons from my husband. Ouch! I did say hello and quickly added, "Come on. I'm tired. Put me to sleep." They got my husband to come sit by me before they wheeled me off. During that time, I'm sure his ego got more inflated by them telling him how wonderful he is. I don't remember the anesthesiologist pushing the plunger into the IV to give me the sleepy drugs. I don't remember him leaving. I don't remember being wheeled away and I definitely don't remember the conversation my hubby told me I had with the guy. KISA was told he had 45 minutes to get lunch before I got out of surgery. He would need to be there when I got out.

The next thing I rememer is being told I need to wake up. The nurse got me some water and crackers. I was still so weak that I couldn't even bite through the cracker. My sweet husband was there and broke it up into small pieces. Have I mentioned how lucky I am? He is a true sweetheart. I was able to get dressed and head home. I couldn't wait to get home and crawl into my bed. We pulled into the garage and the hubby came to my door with my crutches. I attempted to hold on and walk with them, but I was still too weak. Hubby's ex-wife had lent us a wheelchair that she purchased after she sprained her ankle. It came in handy because I had no idea how I was going to get into the house otherwise.

I was weak and off balance all night. My first attempt to use the restroom had me fall over three times. KISA was really good about giving me my pain meds and ice pack on time. I was prescribed Percocet and this was my first time to take it. I was unaware of the side effects. However, the rats running on the treadmill, black bugs flying across the room, feeling things crawl on me and my hands bleeding as I washed my face were all clues to indicate that hallucinations were one of the side effects.

KISA was also sweet enough to bring me flowers. Not traditional flowers. Not even more than one. It was one flower... Made out of icing... On top of a red velvet cake. I laughed after he explained the cake was "flowers" he got for me. Oh man, I better hurry up and get better so I can start exercising again! If anyone has ideas on how to exercise while on bed rest, LET. ME. KNOW!!!!

I Run, But I'm Not a Runner... Or Am I?

This may sound a little strange, but stay with me...

There is a constant kidding that my hubby and I partake in. It is his way of gently making fun of his beloved and my way of lowering my own expectations. The other day, at my doctor's office, I was discussing why my foot discomfort was creating such a disruption in my life. I started the sentence with, "Because I run..." Notice I did not say, "I'm a runner..." The variations of the statement made in my doctor's office can include, "I like to run..." or "When I run..." or "I am training for..." I avoid the words, "I'm a runner" like the plague. Needless to say, once hubby and I got into our car after that doctor's visit, the harassment began. Almost in his best childlike "nah nah nah nah boo boo" voice, Hubster said, "So 'because you run', not because you are a runner, huh?" Or something like that - I try to drown him out when he's trying to be cute.*

I go to specialty running store for my shoes, because I run. I can spend hours in a sporting goods store looking at running gear and training items, because I run. I have a special savings account to pay for registration fees, because I run. I subscribe to multiple websites that will send me email notifications regarding races in my area, because I run. I receive gifts that help me in my training because everyone knows I run. I have Hal Higdon's training website bookmarked on my iPhone, because I run. I am sane (relatively) because I run. Yet, I am not able to refer to myself as a "runner".

I may have uttered the words, "I'm a runner" once and quickly retracted that statement. There is something in my mind that is holding me back from saying those words in lieu of "because I run." I think I would feel like an impostor if I attempted to say those words out loud. Let's face it... I am no Kara Goucher or Paula Radcliffe. Nor am I Dimity McDowell or Sarah Bowen Shea. By saying, "I'm a runner" I feel that I would be putting myself in the same category as these women. The only thing that we have in common is that we are all mothers and we enjoy running. Hubster might disagree with that statement, too. He seems to be under the impression that I also am a sponsored runner since all I work out in is Nike apparel, but I digress.

The playful "You're a runner. No I'm not" argument ensued for a little bit until hubby had to state the obvious (in his mind). He said, "You're a runner because you have an orthopedic surgeon and are having surgery on your foot to help you get back to running." He reveled in victory as he left me speechless. I had no words to combat his statement. So I sat in silence instead of telling him he was right.

That's right. The doctor appointment we were at on this particular day was a foot and ankle specialist that I have been seeing for about a year. It turns out that my running "career" is over for 2010. On Friday, I will have surgery on my foot to finally (God willing) get rid of this pain that has been bothersome since last year. It appears that 97% of individuals will respond well to various, more conservative types of treatment. Another 2% need a little bit more aggressive forms of treatment. Then there is that 1% that require surgery.** Oh, lucky me. I reviewed the synopsis that my doctor wrote down to give to the surgical center. He described my condition as "recalcitrant". My lucky readers get a two-for-one today. A blog AND a vocabulary lesson. Recalcitrant means "stubbornly resistant to authority or control".*** My daughter, Diva, and I laughed about this for a while. Isn't it ironic that my stubbornness extends all the way to my foot? I have a new accusation to throw at my daughter when she is being, well... Recalcitrant.

With all this being said, I will have no journey to blog about. I still won't be able to conquer my first half-marathon this year. A day or two after I was told I will have surgery, I went for a run. I know... Insane. But I figured, they're are going to fix what's wrong - why not get my money's worth? I took it easy and did a pathetic sub 15 minute mile. It was the best bad run in my history. I was smiling the entire time. I took in the joy that I was missing by trying to PR and push myself. Although I will miss my runs, I will make myself follow the plan prescribed by my doctor to have a speedy and accurate recovery. Although I will not have running stories to tell, I will be using the prompts distributed by Mama Kat and her writing workshop which can be found at www.mamakatslosinit.com. A friend turned me onto this site and I hope it will bring some of the sanity I find while I run.

By the way, because I run, I have already registered for a half-marathon on March 27th (to benefit Susan G. Komen for the Cure).


*I know you're reading this KISA, I love you. Smooches.
**These are statistics given to me by my doctor.
***Thanks Google!