The knoxhills half-marathon

Well, I did it. I ran my first half-marathon. And I loved it. This past weekend, Lee and I took off my old stomping grounds of Knoxville, TN starting at World's Fair Park, winding through campus, past the Torchbearer, along the TN river, through the old, gorgeous Cherokee neighborhood, along a covered trail path, back through campus and ending on the football field. Seriously, could they make a half-marathon more catered to me?! (I mean, maybe if they gave you a cup of coffee instead of energy gel. That would be amazing. Maybe we should work on that.)

Saturday, we headed to the runners' expo to pick up our race packets and to shop around. While there, I saw a shirt that said "The Knox hills marathon". Many people warned us that the Knoxville course was very hilly. We politely thanked them, then went on to say "We've been training in Summersville! It seriously can't be that bad!" We laughed at the shirt and went on to explore downtown. (Which has really turned super fun! When I was there, it was nothing more than some swanky hotels, an art museum, and a bunch of banks. Now, it has boutiques, theaters, cafés, restaurants, and on Saturday, had a sidewalk chalk competition! Where was that 8 years ago?!)

Saturday evening, we had dinner with one of my best friends, Rachel, and her family. Our kids hadn't met each other before, so it was a super sweet moment for us. (But we were too busy wrangling kids to take a picture.)

Sunday, I woke up with a pit in my stomach. I did NOT want to do this. After I ate and had my coffee, I realized it was time to get dressed. The nausea grew. We headed downtown to the start line and saw all of the people (7,500 total runners for all of the races) and got more dreadful. We immediately hopped in line for the portapotty and I began to appreciate what challenges most people had to endure to be there that morning. The start times were the same for the half and the full, so I was surrounded by people who were excited and nervous. Some wearing wacky outfits, some wearing shirts for an organization or a cause, many taped up and wearing braces. For most of us, the start line was months before and the finish line was simply showing up to the start line.

Once the race started, the excitement was everywhere. The UT band was our send off and we were off and running! With water stops and portapotties every 2 miles, I was wondering where these people were when I was training?! As we went through an old neighborhood, encouragement signs were everywhere. My favorite read "You can't quit! You're not the pope!"

We had driven the course the day before and were sure that the "hills" were merely "inclines" an we'd be fine until mile 11. I quickly laughed at this philosophy as we climbed hills most of the race and realized that "Knox hills" was a well-earned name for this course!

Between miles 8 and 9, a familiar pain that I experienced on my 11 mile run sprang up into my right hip. I stopped several times to stretch, but was getting little relief. As the race progressed, a blister formed on my left foot from trying to compensate for the pain on my right. At this point, my times were slowing and I knew I was going to miss my 2:15 goal, but knew if I could run through the pain, I could not exceed my ceiling of 2:30. In the middle of my 9th mile, I looked at my watch and knew that Lee (if finishing in his projected time) should be crossing the finish line (an impressive 1:45:57!), and this gave me a push. I was close. Really close.

I had my playlist on "shuffle" and was wishing I could have arranged my songs before the race started. As I was entering my 12th mile, God decided to show off and "Whom Shall I Fear?" began to play. It was the pinnacle. Tears steamed down my face as I began to not think about what others had done to come this far, but what God did in my life the last 12 weeks of training and all of the time we had together and He was there to carry me to the finish line. A 2:26:21 finish was my official time and I was proud of it. We sat in the stands, eating the awesome food they provided to the finishers as I soaked in the TN sun, enjoyed my family (including my brother), and loved talking to one of my by-chance-not-by-blood sisters and seeing our children interact. Full circle as I am in Neyland stadium.

At the 3:15 mark, we witness a woman l enter the stadium and she literally danced her way to the finish. Why hadn't I thought about that?! (Maybe bc if I had stopped to do that, my hip wouldn't have made it to the end?!) It was the perfect moment to soak in.

I can't wait for my next half (and am not sure I'll ever want to tackle a full). Now, to find a flatter course...

The morning of the race

After the race (and one of my favorite family pics)

The double blister

Even the man running on the medal knew about the hills

After the run, Rachel and I went to explore the new ADPi house (we're totally jealous)

My Deep Running Thoughts

Today, Lee took the senior high youth to Marshall University to explore the campus and attend Baptist Campus Ministries. I left early this morning to take my car for an oil change and Nina to her first dentist appointment (with my mom being nothing short of the best hygienist ever)

(Nina was awesome and was fascinated by Gigi's office)

 The glasses were to help with the bright light, but Nina is convinced it's so she matched Gigi.

The longer I was alone today, the more I had nervous time to think. Those of you who have been subjected to listening to my constant internal dialogue know that when left alone with my thoughts, constant worse-case scenarios play in my mind. And you, my dear readers, are about to be subjected to a censored, less dramatic version of my internal thoughts from today.

(You have been warned. You can stop reading at the cute kid in the dentist's chair)

This Sunday is my first half-marathon. When I set out for this half, I'm not going to lie when I say that I thought I would probably get hurt, fall behind on my training, or develop another sinus infection (only one in the whole 12 week plan; I'm pretty sure that's a new record for me!). Due to Lee's very busy Saturday schedule, most of my Saturday, long runs have been on the treadmill (If it hadn't been for The Bachelor, I would have never gotten through). So, my 10 mile run comes about and I KNOW it's time for me to hit the pavement, not the basement. 10 wasn't too awful. Had some noticeable hip pain from hills, but nothing too bad. Even wore my favorite heels to a wedding that afternoon

  Then 11 mile day came. I left the run thinking it was awful. (I have to walk a lot because I believe I'm more ADD than I ever imagined and non-stop running for 2+ hours just drives me nuts.) I finished it in 2:17. Not bad at all for hoping to be around the 2:15 mark for the race (Especially knowing how much worse the hills are in Summersville than in pretty much anywhere else). Then 12. Dear heavens. I'll spare you the horrible details of walks, boredom, and even stopping off at Dairy Queen. (Just to fill up my water bottles, I swear) I will tell you that there was a ginormous, dead fox on the side of the road that I almost took a picture of (just another excuse to stop running for a bit), but didn't think y'all would want to see a squished road kill with brains and intestines bulging. However, I finished 12 miles in 2:43. Humiliating. I nearly didn't post my run to RunKeeper to hide my slowness.

The panic button had been pushed. Could I finish 13.1? Yes. May my time just disappoint me so much that I wish I hadn't run? It's possible. I immediately start texting my seasoned half-marathon friend, Cindy (who is an English teacher and I know she reads my blog. Totally makes me paranoid about punctuation. When in doubt, use "...") She assured me that nerves are normal and that I'll surprise myself with completing, not in last place (Still not sure I'm buying her on that one). My doubts have continued to get a hold of me and have completely been stalking my brain. But in the last 24 hours, I have been given the best advice yet 1) From my sister-in-law: "This is just you. Not Lee and his times. Just you." Anytime I would start to tell her about my insecurity of running the same race as my husband who has gotten much faster since his first half-marathon, she countered with "Nope. Just you." (Love her.) And from Cindy 2) It's not going to get cancelled. This is going to happen. No backing out now.

This week, I have a few light runs to keep my legs moving, but let them rest. Today, was a 2 mile at race pace and I finished with the Christian battle cry "Whom Shall I Fear" by Chris Tomlin. "I know who goes before me. I know who stands behind. The God of angel armies, is always by my side." This week, I am determined to not let the enemy tell me what I can't do. My running time is my favorite worship time (even though I have to keep my hands down while doing long runs. I'm always afraid people will think I'm flagging them down instead of worshiping.). Karen speaks the truth that it isn't about Lee, but it's also not just about me. I have a date with my worship playlist on Sunday morning to prove to Him that I will "present my body as a willing sacrifice, holy and acceptable to Him". (Romans 12:2) That "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." (Phil 4:13) When I hit the hill on Sunday, at mile 11 and I start to think "I can NOT do this for 2 more miles" I'll remember that 1) that hill has 100' less than the awful hill we run on 19 and 2) "Nothing formed against me shall stand. You hold the whole world in Your hands. I'm holding on to Your promises. You are faithful. You are faithful." Therefore I will be.

Traditions

As a preacher's kid, in a small town, traditions defined so much of our lives. As a kid, it was the traditional things that bothered me. We lived 30 minutes away and were the first and last people at the church. Now, as a pastor's wife at a different church, I find it's the traditions that I find myself missing the most. I think this began in college, when I found myself missing the church's Easter egg hunt and would insist that my dad took me to visit and reminisce about my days where I was so excited to find a smashed, colored-so-much-it-was-brown egg in a field that I could barely stand myself.

Tonight, as I was cooking dinner (when I do most of my thinking), I started to think about the traditions that surround the church I grew up in and this weekend: candlelight communion at Good Friday service, the Easter Egg hunt tomorrow, packing up our bags and the car for a very early Sunday, waking up, getting in the car to the Easter baskets (the Easter bunny was so intuitive to know that our baskets should be delivered to our back seats), Sunrise service, breakfast at my adopted grandma's house (oh yummy ham and biscuits!), Easter Sunday service, and then heading home (exhausted, after already putting in a huge day), eating some lasagna, and crashing for a nap.

(Except for the year we made my mom and Nannie jump on our trampoline. Amazing.)

(You have to nap, so you can stay up for endless hours to watch The Ten Commandments. So let it be written; let it be done)

(I'm still not sure why they show The Sound of Music and The Ten Commandments at Easter?!)

On top of traditions that are set-up, the unintentional things that happen often become a more engrained memory that any others. Like, getting my Granny Mary's house for Easter breakfast and calling one of my best friends, Matthew, to get him up to come eat breakfast with us (it was his real Granny), or Amanda locking her mom's keys in their running van (still laughing), or choosing the ribbon for my Easter hat (oh yes. A pic to come). I don't think my mom, my Ma T, or I will forget the year I had strep throat and tonsillitis at the same time. I'm pretty sure I slept that whole Easter. Or the year we didn't know all of our potatoes were rotten until we sat down at the dinner table and cut into them.

Now, that I'm married to a pastor (who serves in his childhood church), I'm learning that every church has their traditions that are as near and dear to their hearts as ham and egg hunts are to mine. (I've learned that SBC's big tradition is a wonderful Easter breakfast made by the deacons)

The older I get, the more I realize the importance of being involved in a body of believers and embracing the traditions. Was I irritated that we had to be up before the roosters to get to Sunrise service and my folks weren't keen on jamming to my Dolly Parton and Billy Ray Cyrus tape single "Romeo" at 6:15 am??

(Seriously, best. Song. Ever.)

Yes. Do I treasure every memory? Yes. Above all, I feel so blessed to have my memories (and a plethora of Reese's eggs)

There's an app for that!

It seems as if all of my blogs recently (if you can call the last few years "recently") have started with some rendition of "it's been forever since I've blogged, but I'm going to do better" and here we are, nearly a year later and I still haven't done better. However, I have found the holy grail of blogging: an app! Congratulations! You're about to be completely enthralled with my very boring life (and I like it that way)!

This past Christmas, I found a Christmas card that was a picture card, but it had "Top 5 memories of 2012". I could think of at least 5 just for Lee and 20 for Nina (unfortunately, potty training was NOT accomplished that year). Sadly for me, all I could come up with was "a full-time working mom/ pastor's wife who met her goal daily of holding it SOMEWHAT together and neither killing myself, nor innocent bystanders" or "I mastered the art of making a weekly menu" (cue the whistles and confetti).

The good news is, yes, my life can be mundane and totally uneventful, but the truth is that I like it that way. I love the routine of 5:00 am workouts (I MUST be crazy), 3:40 homecomings, playing blocks, cooking dinner, and being in bed by 9:00. I love that the high point of my day is coming upstairs from doing my long run on the treadmill and seeing that Lee built a fire.

So, yes my blog will be about my recipes, my training for my first half-marathon, my women's Bible study, TurboFire, the hilarious and sweet things Nina does (followed by a thousand pics) and the simple things of reading by the fire with Lee.

Stay tuned, sister has an app!

Never a quitter, but possibly over-committed

Growing up as a child, we had the rule that if you started something, you finished it. This rule showed itself to me when I was in my second year of dance. My best friend, Ashley, loved dance and since she and I did everything together, I danced. My first year was okay mostly because we had blue sparkley tutus for our recital. During the recital, the sequins of my tutu got stuck to the girl's next to me; this proved very difficult to do my turns. I kept my smile on my face and would do half of a turn and then turn the other way. The next year, I knew our tutus were GORGEOUS, so I decided to endure another year (anything for my best friend and a beautiful tutu). That year, I didn't like my teacher and continued to wish I was at gymnastics instead of another year of dance. But, a rule was a rule: I had to finish the class. The recital was the happiest day; the end of the class! O.Ver.Joyed. I hated dance, but the rule always was to finish what you have commited to.
Fast forward 20 years and that principle is still engrained upon my being.

I have neve been one to have a "bucket list". I have mostly been a girl who lived in the moment and was ready for whatever came about. For those of you who have been reading my blog for a while, you know that I barely survived childbirth (Having Baby Boso). My case was extremely rare and there are nearly no studies about cases similar to mine, so I have no way to know if it will happen again. So, I began to set real, personal, goals for myself. These differed greatly for me from a type of resolution; I REALLY wanted to do these! One of the goals was to figure out how to run.

I remember so vividly, in elementary school, having to do the Presidential Fitness test and we had to run a mile. I dreaded this (I mean, why not just quit on the sit-and-reach?!) and always finished near the end of my class. So, after my lovefest with Weight Watchers , I found a 5k training program on their website and started running.

The running was going well so I continued to add mileage and I set my eye on the ultimate run: the marathon (Why didn't someone smack me when I thought about this?!). We decided to do the Kentucky Derby Marathon in April. Our ultimate goal was to run the Disney Marathon in January, but we wanted to be sure to have our first marathon jitters out of the way so we could enjoy Disney. It was set. That would give us off time from training during the crazy-busy summer months.

I was finishing my 5th week of training and got a fairly large ovarian cyst that caused me to take a pause in my running. The same week, it was determined that Lee has Planter Fasciitis and concluded that his foot wouldn't heal enough to be able to train for the marathon. I tried to run my 10 miler on Sunday and had to have Lee pick me up 2.5 miles in. I had run 9 the week before without batting an eye and then couldn't even run a 5k. I was devastated and humiliated. The reality of what this cyst may cause was starting to set in: this thing isn't going to go away overnight and it hurt too much to run with it.

Early in my training, I had a few discussions with our pastor, Dana (who is a multi-marathoner), about my marathoning plans. He discouraged (on SEVERAL occasions) running 2 marathons in 8 months. Dana had been out of the country and caught me a few hours after my failed run, at the right vulnerable moment, to give me another amount of encouragement to forego the full marathon and to run the half marathon instead. What he said to me, for the first time in months, made sense. My ultimate goal was to run the Disney Marathon, in its entire 26.2 miles of glory. Many studies suggest that it can take up to a year for your body to recover from a marathon. So, why jeopardize not being able to achieve my goal because of a "practice" marathon. The nail in the coffin was when he said that he didn't think I realized what stress running a marathon puts on a person's body; much less 2 marathons in 8 months. The thought of all of the time I would be losing of spending time with Nina during the peak of marathon training also began to weigh heavily on my mind. I wrestled for two days about what i thought I was going to do, and have decided that for once I am going to listen to the advice of those who have paved the way ahead of me.

So, here's to half marathon training (or mini-marathon, as they call it at the Derby) and running the full Run Disney on January 6, 2013!

My Spiritual Act of Worship

My whole life, I have loved to sing. My first solo that I remember was in the biggest church production of a children's play I have ever been witness to, The Great Late Potentate. I practiced the song "Listen" like I was about to perform in front of thousands. I practiced so much that to this day, 20 years later, I can still sing every word.

As my life progressed, I would blast my music as loudly as my ears could physically handle (or as much as my parents could handle) and would rock out to Point of Grace until the whole CD was over, grab some water, and put in the next CD.

Then, came my car. Once I got to college and had long road trips home, I would load up my 12 CD disc changer and sing until I barely had a voice to talk when I reached my destination. When I was hired as a Spanish teacher, I had to drive to Charleston 2-3 times a week (depending on the semester). I would talk on the phone some as I got into the car and as I arrived at my destination (please no lectures, I had my hands-free device). On the way home after my 3rd night of class, I would typically ride in silence out of sheer exhaustion. But, I welcomed the hour of dead air where I couldn't talk on the phone. My iPod and I would have a time together. I would worship with tears running down my face and a few very memorable times where I could barely catch my breath over the amount of love pouring between my Lord and myself.

I completed my degree, quit my many drives to Charleston, and found myself missing my music! I had had too many audiology classes to be fearful of the hearing loss dangers to have Nina hearing any music above a whisper (exaggeration mine). Then, I got my running stroller. True, I will never be a competitive runner (nor do I have a desire to do so), and if nothing else, I have gotten my music back.

My reason for running is this: to take time to offer up my physical body to God while spending time in worship. Do not be surprised if you see me running with a hand held high, tears running down my face, and goosebumps down my spine. I have found my forum of worship. This evening, I ran with my head full of thoughts and fears that have become new in my life in the last 48 hours. I wrestled, prayed, and ran. It's all I could do. As I approached the end of my run, the song I needed to hear came on "Do it, Lord" by Travis Cottrell. "This is our prayer, oh God. This is my desperate cry. In these days that we're living now, let Your Kingdom come, let Your will be done."

"Therefore I urge you, brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God - this is your spiritual act of worship." Romans 12:1 (NIV)

The writer's block has opened up!!

Has it really been 10 months since I last blogged?! That has not been for a lack of things to blog about, however a lack of blogging umph. I have recently discovered some fabulous blogs that have gotten me back in the excitement of the random rambling that IS blogging (my blogging, at least).

So, in the last ten months, Nina has rolled, crawled, walked, run, weaned, talked, had ear infections, filled us with love, had a birthday, had her first participatory holiday season, had an ER visit for a busted up eye, and has fallen deeply in love with the "dawg, dawgs".

I have, been somewhat successful at teaching and having a baby at home, completed my weight loss journey with Weight Watchers (50 pounds down), started running, survived my first vacation with a baby, become a brunette (I guess I should say that I went back to being a brunette, since it is actually my natural color; who knew?!), gone through a super spiritually dry time, and came out of it, and decided to train for a marathon (What is wrong with me?!).

Lee has joined me in Weight Watchers and lost 30 pounds, chiseled his seminary degree down to one more remaining class (praise Jesus!), completed his first 1/2 marathon, decided to train for the full marathon with me, had an incredible soccer season, and has put up with me with kindness and love.

With this much past us, I decided to dedicate my first reentry to the blogging world to the what I did and would/wouldn't do again in my first year and a half of mommyhood.

1) Cloth diapers- Oh my, the verbal beating we took for making this decision!! Would I do it again? Without a doubt! They are easy, cheap (after the initial buy), green (environmentally, we only had 2 green diapers :) ), and easier on the bum. Truth be told, I probably would be more relaxed when it came to traveling and would use disposables when we are on a trip; it just added more stress.

2) The Babywise series - DEFINITELY! We have done Babywise, Babywise 2, and are on Toddlerwise. These books make so much sense, helped me keep my head attached, and helped me to have some sort of direction on bringing up this little gem. I am still in shock that we get sent home with such a great responsibility with so little direction! Nina naps 3 hours a day and sleeps 12-13 hour a night and it's all credited to these books. People always comment on her happiness and I swear it's because of this.

3) Homemade baby food - Probably would do it again. Did it take some time? Yes. Did it take a little more effort? Yes. But, did it save a ton of money? Yes. and I feel it is the reason that Nina would rather have a pear or green beans to chips or cookies. One of her words is "Bockee" which is toddler for "broccoli".

4) Weight Watchers to lose baby weight - THE EASIEST THING ON THIS WHOLE LIST! I was more plump when I got pregnant than I had ever been in my life (thanks, Spanish degree, I appreciate it), then once I added a baby, and many blizzards and I was embarrassed of where the scale stopped when I got on it. I was a nursing mother and read a lot about being sure I was getting enough calories to provide for Nina, but not too much to provide for my hips. What a fine line!! Weight Watchers had a nursing mother's plan that made it easy. To someone that had been vexed by calorie counting and body image, I was rescued by WW. I became a runner (actually a stroller runner, at first) and lost the weight without even really noticing I was doing anything. If you want to lose weight and have tried for years, do WW. So easy, that Lee was able to do it without blinking!

I have so many more random thoughts running around in my head right now, expect a huge influx of blog posts in the next few days. Watch out blogosphere, Carmen is back!