Thoughts on the Eve of Kindergarten

Sam,

Today is the day before kindergarten starts for you.  I've done everything I possibly can to prepare you for this day, but somehow I've forgotten to prepare myself.

I still remember the day that you were born.  I was so excited to finally be able to hold you, my sweet baby boy that I carried in my body and protected for nine months.  You didn't cry immediately, and then you let out a low, sweet wail that would touch my heart, grab on and never let go.

I've watched you turn into such a big boy the last few months since you turned 5.  You are such a sweet helper to us around the house, and you are such a wonderful big brother to your sister - she loves you more than anything in the world, and you love her the same.  It is absolutely beautiful to me to see the way that you take care of her and help her.

These past few weeks, we've shopped for your school clothes.  We cleaned out your closets and your dresser, and you dutifully tried on every single piece of clothing.  You were a big boy and didn't cry when you had outgrown your favorite 'cowboy' jean jacket and your cowboy boots, and I promised to buy you new cowboy clothes as soon as I could find them in the store.  You helped me hang up all of your new clothes, and you've done a great job placing your shoes in the bins I put in your closet, and taking care of all of your new things.

We went to get your haircut for school last Tuesday.  Of course, after we got home you decided to snip a piece off in the front, with the reasoning that you didn't want a brown piece in the front.  I get it buddy, I really do - Mama doesn't like brown pieces in the front, either.  I got onto you for cutting your own hair, and we repeated over and over again that scissors are for paper.  You seem pretty contrite about it now, and honestly I really can't even see where you snipped it since it's right by your cowlick.  I never would have known if you hadn't left the snip of hair on the bathroom floor.  I guess that's something I didn't teach you very well - how to hide your mistakes and cover your tracks!

We met your teacher last Wednesday.  Her name is Mrs. Miller, and we brought her a clipboard you and I made with ModPodge and patterned scrapbook paper.  She loved it, and you showed her that you're a helper already by carrying a big box of Goldfish into the meeting room.  It was heavy, but you carried it proudly, and you stoically tried to put it exactly in the front of the room where Mrs. Miller would find it when she was making her presentation.  You were excited to find out that Mrs. Miller was your cousin Austin's teacher eight years ago, and I hope that means you'll turn out to be a great kid, just like he has.

I watched you write your first name on the post it note where you decided you wanted your seat in the classroom to be.  You did it quickly, trying to finish fast, and ended up writing your S backwards, and writing it in all capital letters.  I asked you to take another look at it and try again, and when you did, you wrote your name perfectly, just like we've practiced for the last year and a half.  I hope Mrs. Miller will give you a second chance and ask you to try again, and to take your time, just like Mommy does for you.  I know she will, but I'm still worried for you.

You met new friends in your classroom, Kai who lives in our neighborhood, and Mason who lives right next door to Uncle Aaron.  I watched you clown around with them, and hoped that you would remember that there is a time for laughing, and a time for learning.  You decided to sit right next to your new friends, so I bet Mrs. Miller hopes so, too.

I ordered special labels for you with your first and last name and a pirate symbol on them, and I carefully placed them on all of your things.  I hope the labels make you feel special, but I really hope it means that your things will come home with you at the end of each day!

We talked about your backpack.  I showed you where all the special pockets are, and we adjusted the straps so that it wouldn't hang halfway down your little back.  I even put an extra change of clothes in there, right down to underwear and socks, just in case.  Mrs. Miller asked all of the parents to do that.  I just hope I remember to change the clothes based on the seasons, so that you won't come home in shorts in December!

I made a big decision and decided to let you ride the bus to school this year.  Kai and his big sister Amaya will be on the bus as well, so I hope you'll have friends and you will enjoy getting to ride the big yellow school bus.  You and I talked about where the bus will pick you up and drop you off at, and I'll be waiting there for you each time, hoping you'll come home with lots of stories of your adventures for the day.

Yesterday, we talked about how you'll get to school on the first day, and we decided what you wanted in your lunch box.  You know to take home anything you don't eat, and you know to remember to keep your sandwich box and your snack box.  You also know that you have a pirate water bottle on the side of your backpack, so you'll always have it in case you are thirsty.

You have been so excited this past week.  Every day, you wake up and you tell me exactly how many days you have left until kindergarten starts.  This morning, you got to go into the big kids worship service for the first time ever, and I watched you proudly raise your hand and smile when Pastor Bronson asked for kindergarteners!

I know that you are ready, Sam, and I know you are going to do amazing.  It seems I've spent the last 5 years getting you ready for your big day tomorrow, but somehow I forgot to get myself ready.  It's so hard for me to know that I won't be there to help you tomorrow.  If you fall down, I won't be there to wipe your tears and get you a Transformers bandaid.  If someone hurts your feelings, I won't be there to hug you and tell you it's all right.  If you do something awesome, I can't be there to high five you and congratulate you. 

But, I will be there at home, waiting to give you a hug and hear about your day.  I can't wait to find out all of your new adventures, and I know that you are going to grow and change so much!  I hope that I can be the mom that you need me to be tomorrow - I hope that I can give you a huge hug and wish you luck, and that I won't cry in front of you.  And I hope that you will learn and grow, and that you will excel, just like you always have.  I know that you will, and I know that I'm going to be ok, too. 

I love you, Sam . . .

Poop Spelled Backwards is Poop

I seem to blog alot about poop.  Usually it's my kid's poop, but today it's mine . . .

This past weekend we were lucky enough to be invited to spend it in Rockport with our extended family.  My parents, my brother's family, my family, and the family of my parent's friends (including their kids and grandkids) all got together for 3 nights and 4 days of fun!  My parent's friends are the Sutton's, and they own the canal house that we were lucky enough to stay in.  It's absolutely beautiful (and it's for sale!), and we really enjoyed getting to spend time together as a family, and also with their awesome family.  And now, for the poop story . . .

As you well know, I'm a runner.  Just because I go on vacation doesn't mean I stop running.  I still have a schedule I adhere to, and as my family knows, if I don't run, I'm usually not a happy camper.  Saturday mornings are reserved for my long runs.  A long run for me is typically 5 or more miles, but it turns out that this week I would not have a running buddy.  I'd asked my friend Cyndy if anyone in the family ran (hoping for a partner for at least 2 miles, since I don't like to do more than 4 on my own), but my only hope was their family dog, Cowboy.  Unsure as to whether Cowboy had ever run distance or not, I decided to strike out on my own.

It was 7:40 am, and I was dressed to kill.  Ok, not really.  I actually had on my KatyFit Coach Shirt.  Not because I wanted people to know I was a coach, but because it is an obnoxious yellow color, and I didn't want to get hit by a car.  I also had on my matching skirt which is gray, with obnoxious yellow accents.  Not to mention my gray and obnoxious yellow running shoes.  I didn't do it on purpose, people.  It just happened to go that way. 

I decided to run 3 miles for several reasons, the first of which I was on my own.  I was in unfamiliar territory, didn't know a specific route, and let's not forget the fact that the highs during that week were over 100 degrees.  Yep, hotter than H-E-double hockey sticks. 

I set off from the canal house we were staying in, and ran towards the house of our friends.  It was a route we'd driven several times over the past two days, so I figured there was no way I could get lost.  Sure enough, I passed by the Sutton's home after about a mile, and continued on another half a mile.  Right when I decided to turn around, it hit me.  I'd eaten Mexican food the day before.  And it didn't hit me in my mind . . . it hit me somewhere else.

No details, people, but let's just say that concentrating on 'holding it' while you're also concentrating on maintaining proper running form, can be a bit difficult.  I tried in vain to make it back to the canal house we were staying in, but after 3 minutes I knew there was no way I'd make it.  I actually had to resort to walking.  Too much brain power required to concentrate on both objectives.

Suddenly, I saw the Sutton's house in front of me.  I had three options here.  I could either try to make it another mile back to our place (impossible), take off my shoes and visit Matagorda Bay (not a good option for the environmentalists), or I could swallow my pride and see if anyone was up at the Sutton's.  I chose the Sutton's.  Since it was now about 8 am, and kind of an ungodly hour, I figured if I knocked on the door and no one answered, my next option was the bay.

I hobbled up to the door, and tried to quietly knock, but I had forgotten about the dogs.  They quickly announced my arrival.  The door was answered by Will and Chance, 2nd and 1st graders (respectively).  I asked to use the potty, and they pointed me towards their bathroom.  After I'd gotten things taken care of and washed my hands, I opened the door and they were both standing there with pop guns pointed at me.  I laughed and thanked them for letting me use their potty.  Then I ran upstairs and thanked one of their dads and their grandpa for letting me visit as well.  Then I ran home.

If you're a runner, you know sometimes there are just no options.  And at some point, you have to swallow your pride.  When I got home, I admitted to my family what I'd had to do.  My mom was mortified, to say the least, but Mike, having been privy to my Gu issues before (Gu being a nutritional running supplement for you non-runners), just laughed.  My dad laughed, too.  I'm not sure if I made him proud, but he did chuckle.

So, later, we go back over to the Sutton's as a family.  And when we get there, the kids are all swimming in the pool together.  And I overhear Will, my bathroom buddy from earlier, announcing to the other kids "Earlier, Sammy's mommy came over and she stunk up our bathroom really bad."  Go ahead - laugh.  You know you want to!  I did!

And I had two options.  Mortal embarrassment, or own it and move on.  Yep, I owned it.  What else can you do?  We all know why I had to go there!  At least be an adult and don't try to lie about it.  I mean, they already had their guns pointed at me like I was an intruder - and I was, for goodness sake! 

For the rest of the weekend, I had to live it up as the running pooper.  What a name I made for myself.  I'm so embarrassed - and yet, what can you do?

I Wasn't Born This Way

I have had two separate conversations today that were almost identical, and yet the participants were completely unrelated.  They struck me so much that I feel the need to comment on them and the conclusions that they draw about our society and our worldview.

This morning I went for a run with three ladies whom I have the utmost respect for.  I had the honor of acting as a coach for them in KatyFit's 5K program this past Spring, and I am so proud of each of them for moving on to participate in our marathon and half marathon training program.  I am even honored to act as a coach again for two of them! 

These girls are tough.  They're moms, two of them with young preschool age children, and the third has older children, a son in junior high, and is even about to be a grandma any day now.  So we're not talking wimps by any means.  And beyond that, I have seen all three of these ladies work, and work hard, to start running, to train to run continuously (without walk breaks), and to run faster.  I'm proud of them for sure, and I know they're proud of themselves, as they well should be.

That being said, our conversation today on our run centered around opinions.  Opinions of other runners, and opinions of non runners.  Neither one should be important, as truly only your own opinion matters, but sometimes they can be overpowering.  Apparently, there is an opinion held that a slower runner (ie one who perhaps doesn't look like a runner and can't sprint by effortlessly at a blistering pace) is not a real runner.  I call bullshit on that opinion.  One of the ladies even shared with me that she had told a friend she was planning to run a Rock and Roll Half Marathon, and was responded to with the comment that "real runners don't do Rock and Roll events."  Really?  So, does that mean all those people who complete Rock and Roll Marathons and Half Marathons each year are not real?  What are they - fake?  Are there a bunch of zombies and mannequins out there, leaving a part of their hearts at each mile?  I think not.

Fast forward a few hours to a discussion with a fellow KatyFit runner at the end of a local triathlon held today in Katy.  She brought up to me that she, as well, feels slighted for being a slower runner.  For the life of me, I cannot understand why.  Is this truly an opinion held in the running community, or is this perhaps the misguided opinion of a few individuals, with some personal bias thrown in for good measure?  I think (actually, I hope) it's the latter. 

See, here's the deal.  I'm a slower runner.  I average about a 10 minute per mile pace on a shorter run (4 miles or less), and anywhere from a 10:30 - 11:00 pace for longer runs.  By all means, it takes me just under two and a half hours to finish a half marathon.  But, at that pace, I'm working just as hard as a faster runner would at their own individual pace.  Everyone has their own pace, the one that works for them.  You can train your body to run faster, for sure, but there's a point where genetics and body structure take over, and you just can't go further from there.  I've even seen running shirts that say "Find Your Happy Pace," and when you find it, you know.  It's fast enough to make you push it a bit, but it's slow enough that you're not killing yourself with every step.  And if you're running at your own happy pace, you're a runner.  No matter what.

Some people are born this way.  They've got the runner's build, they've been running since they were kids, and they're fast.  They're usually Kenyan, but I've seen a few Americans.  I have the utmost respect for them.  It takes a lot of work to train and to run like that.  But, I wasn't born this way.  I have a build pretty comparable to an apple, but I can get it to look somewhat like an hourglass if I work really hard.  And that's the thing - it takes a lot of work and training for me to run like I do.  So, if you want to compare paces and say I'm not a real runner, go right ahead.  I know the paces aren't comparable, but if you look on the inside, at the true heart of a runner, you'll see.  I wasn't born this way, but I'm a real runner, too.  And in my dreams (and my heart), I'm a Kenyan.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Runs

Today we were driving through Huntsville on the way to a family wedding up in Fort Worth. Along the road, we passed the recreation yard of one of the state prison units. It consisted of a grassy area and an oval shaped crushed granite track. I glanced at it as we passed by and saw a sight that honestly took my breath away.

One of the prisoners was barefoot and running on the track. The look on his face as we passed was priceless. I did not see a caged bird. Instead, I saw a runner. With each fellow prisoner he passed, I saw the joy and the pure love of running on his face. For those precious few minutes in the recreation yard each day, he is no longer a prisoner of his own bad choices. He is free, no walls can hold him.

That, my friends, is why I run. No one can ever take the freedom of running from you. It is a secret and joyful society that only a fellow runner can recognize. I know why the caged (jail)bird runs . . .

Happy Valentine's Day to Me . . .

Yep, it's Valentine's Day.  You know, the Hallmark holiday.  No matter, I love Mike, he loves me, and no big deal.  I woke up this morning and set about making myself a cup of coffee.  You just have to love the Keurig . . . even a monkey, or a mom with no sleep, could make a satisfying cup of coffee.  On my way into the kitchen, I noticed two envelopes, one addressed to "Mommy," and the other to "Lindsey."  I briefly considered opening them right then and there, but ultimately decided I should go upstairs to get my lovely daughter out of her crib.  My plan was to get Sophia and Sammy started on breakfast, and then to sit down at the table with them and enjoy opening my cards while languishly drinking my cup of coffee.  Big mistake . . .

I arrived upstairs with Sammy right on my heels.  He had been up since 7 am when Mike got up, and he heartily greeted me at 7:30 with a cheerful "Happy Valentine's Day, Mommy!"  I convinced him to lay in the bed with me and watch the Disney channel while I snoozed for a few more minutes.  We got up at 8:15, made the afore-mentioned coffee, and headed upstairs for Sophia.  No sooner had I opened her door to greet her when the smell hit me.

You know . . . the poop smell.  If you are not a mom yet, there are no words to describe the poop smell.  You may have vaguely been holding someone else's child and thought you smelled something, but once you've encountered it firsthand from your own child, you'll know exactly what I'm referring to.  Today, it seemed to resonate, and I wasn't sure why until I turned towards Sophia's crib.

There are no words to describe exactly what I witnessed.  All I can say is, Miss Sophia went number 2, and Miss Sophia decided to play with it.  She was covered in it.  It covered the waistband of her pajama pants, and the bottom of her pajama shirt.  It covered both of her hands, and extended to her forearms.  It was even encased across the heel of one foot.  And in addition to her, it covered the front left hand corner of her crib. 

I have to interject here and say it also covered another part of her body.  It was smeared across her face, in a tell-tale line around her mouth.  I was horrified by this, and immediately said, "Sophia!  Did you eat your poop?"  Her answer . . . "Yeah."  But I'm not going to place much stock in that answer, since she'll pretty much answer "yeah" to any question you ask her.  Right . . . I'll just keep telling myself that. 

Anyway, I told her not to touch me, picked her up, held her as far from my body as humanly possible, and carried her to the bathroom.  Sammy followed, turned on the bathroom light, and opened the shower curtain based on my panicked requests.  I placed Sophia in the bathtub, stripped her down, and turned on the water faucet.  I didn't bother filling up the tub, but merely let the water run at a comfortable temperature.  Go ahead, Environmentalists . . . blast me if you will, but it's not like I had any other options here. 

I briefly looked at the Johnson+Johnson baby soap and laughed, and instead grabbed a bar of Zest.  I started with the hands.  I scrubbed each arm individually, and when I thought it was clean, I rinsed it and then scrubbed it again.  I made my way over Sophia's entire arsenal of poop, and then finally rinsed her and the bathtub one final time.  Then I filled the tub up with water and let her play for a bit.  At this point, Sammy decided it was safe to join in with bathtime, and promptly stripped down and jumped in.

Meanwhile, one room away, I was tackling Sophia's crib.  I used wipes to clean each part of her crib, then stripped the bed and all of her stuffed animals (including her infamous Pillow Pet) and placed those items into the washer on extra hot water.  Next I went over the crib again with Clorox bleach, and finally finished it off with a serious spray of Lysol.  As for the bed linens, those were washed three times before being placed in the dryer . . . I'm not saying they're super clean, but I certainly hope so!

Overall, I think Sophia and her room were pretty darn clean.  Not to say that I wasn't imagining a raging case of pinkeye for each of us given all the poo particles that must have been floating around in her room, but overall I think we must have been ok.

After the kids were clean and dry, we finally had breakfast, and I finally got to open my Valentine's Day cards.  After washing my hands in extra hot water about five times . . . after that, we headed onto our main event for the day, a Valentine's Day party with close friends.  And of course, on the way there, Sophia dumped her sippy cup full of water all over herself . . .

I'm not sure what to make of her recent behavior . . . on the one hand, I know she's curious.  And for sure, I know she's headed towards the infamous Terrible Twos.  But on the other, if this is what she's got for me in one day at almost 22 months, I'm not sure I even want to see what the next year has in store for me . . . Oh well, she's super cute, right?

The Aramco Houston Half Marathon

What a day, what a day!  After months and months of training (and let's not forget years of dreaming), the day was finally here.  The day I would run my first half marathon!

I have to be honest . . . it was one of the worst days of my life.  And yet, one of the best as well.  Just being honest here, people! 

It started out at about 4 am.  For weeks now, I've been obsessively checking the weather, and I've been saddened and dismayed to discover that the forecast was highs in the 60's and rain.  Seriously?  For the last three months, I've been training in freezing temperatures.  And now it's going to be in the 60's?  What a fluke!  And the rain?  I've already seen some people run marathons in the rain, and it is not pretty, folks.  Not pretty at all. 

So here we are, 4 am.  Luckily, Mike got up with me and set out to help me put BodyGlide on my entire body.  My hands were shaking, I was feeling nervous as a cat, and I'm putting slippery stuff all over me.  Nice!  The deal with BodyGlide is that it helps prevent chafing.  Chafing feels pretty darn nasty, especially if you are all wet from running in the rain for over two hours.  Slippery BodyGlide it is.  We put it everywhere.  Even the parts of me that were covered by clothes, as those are usually the worst chafed parts when it rains!

I grabbed my neatly packed bag, got myself a cup of coffee, and Mike loaded me into the truck with a kiss and a smile.  I was still scared to death.  I drove over to my running partner Elle's house, where her friend picked us up and drove us downtown.  I sat in the back feeling like I was going to puke the entire time.  I'm not sure why I was so nervous, but I think I was afraid of failure.  That, or blisters from running in the rain!  I tried to stay calm by eating my usual breakfast and sucking down my coffee, but I really wasn't fooling anyone. 

Once we were parked, we walked several blocks to the George R. Brown Convention Center, and I began to feel a bit calmer.  When we made it inside, we checked our bags, and then settled in with the rest of the KatyFit group.  We met up with our running friends, cracked jokes, used the portapotties, and generally just tried to keep my mind off the inevitable.  Eventually, it was time to walk down to the starting chutes.

Because so many runners participate in the Chevron/Aramco Marathon and Half Marathon, the runners are divided into different starting times based on their estimated finish.  We were placed in the Black Chute, and we worked our way up to the front of it, and made one last portapotty stop before the race started.

The first 5K of the race was exhilarating!  When the starting gun went off, I felt like the entire culmination of the last few months was finally beginning, and I was so excited.  We started slow (about an 11:00 pace), and began working our way through the large group of runners.  Over and over again, we were told how awesome our "Hell on Heels" shirts were.  I'm so glad that we had them made - I felt so proud to be wearing such a cool running shirt!

However, at about mile 4 I had to stop and check out my foot.  Come to find out, despite the BodyGlide, and despite the fact that it hadn't even rained yet, I had started to develop a large blister on the ball of my left foot.  I hadn't got blisters the entire season - why would they start now?  The only idea I can come up with is the BodyGlide - I'd also never used it all over my feet before . . . I tried to put a bandaid on it, but by mile 4.5 we had to stop again so I could take the bandaid off as it was hurting worse than it had without it.

As we approached the 10K mark, I got a huge lift as my family was standing there in the intersection to cheer for us!  Mike's parents graciously stayed home with our kids, so that Mike and my parents, my brother and sister in law, my BFF Amanda and her son Grayson, and my friend Kelley could come up and cheer for me.  It takes some huge family love to willingly stand in the rain just to see your loved one run by real quick, but they did that for me and I am forever grateful!  I wasn't close enough to high five them as we were on the other side of the two lane road, but seeing them brought tears to my eyes and helped me push through.

The course was about this crowded throughout the entire race!

Mugging for the camera!

As we started working on the third 5K of the race, the heat began to get to me.  It would alternately drizzle for five minutes and then the sun would come out in blazes.  It felt terrible - like a sweltering jungle.  My body just wasn't used to the heat.  Elle and I switched to running a 10/1 interval (running for ten minutes and walking for one minute), but I still couldn't get a hold on my breathing and my body temperature.  I started looking around for water like a camel in the desert.  I actually found an unopened water bottle on the side of the road and opened it up, then dumped it all over the front and back of me, and inside my hat.  It helped (somewhat) to cool me off. 

Pointing and screaming SOCKS!

Changing the socks . . . I could barely even stand up!

Quick kiss from Mike to carry me through!

We turned around at approximately mile 9 and began to work towards the finish line.  This put us passing right by my family and friends again, and as soon as I saw Mike I pointed my finger at him and screamed SOCKS!  He had brought a dry pair of socks for me to change into.  At the time, it seemed like a great idea, but looking back it was difficult to make the change, and it took about 5 minutes.  Next time, no socks, I swear!

As we approached mile 11, my mental game was really off.  I actually had to walk for quite a few minutes instead of just one, and I started crying.  I'm embarrassed to say that, but it's part of the process of running a long distance - at some point you have emotions and they have to be let out somehow.  Elle put her arm around me and calmed me down, and the other runners around me encouraged me and told me what a great job I had done getting to that point.  It helped, but then I was just embarrassed that they all saw me crying!  I decided to pick up my feet again and push on. 

Finishing on my own - proud and strong!

As we neared the finish around mile 12.5, I encouraged Elle to take off on her own and finish strong.  I wasn't feeling like I had any energy left in me at that point, and then as I watched her take off and get about two blocks ahead of me, I tried in vain to pick up the pace and catch her, but there were too many people between us at that point and I just couldn't run that fast!  However, I did run the final portion at a strong pace, and crossed the finish line with a smile.  Elle was there waiting for me, having finished about three minutes earlier.  I'm so glad she ran the race with me - she helped me so much!  Plus we ran into all of our KatyFit running buddies at the finish line as well!

Me, Roy, Brin, Coach Bob, Jenny and Chuck

So, I'm officially a half marathoner now!  Was it worth it?  Absolutely.  Oh yes, and my time . . . 2:26:34.  I'll take that, thank you very much!

Aramco Houston Half Marathon - Part I (BEFORE!)

The time has come, my friends - the weekend I have been waiting for over 8 years, and training for over 6 months for . . . my first half marathon weekend!  A big part of the Chevron/Aramco Marathon/Half Marathon Weekend is visiting the Expo.  The Expo is held downtown at George R. Brown Convention Center.  There are tons of exhibitors with lots of cool running swag, and it's also where you pick up your coveted racing bib.  I was fortunate to go with my running partner, the fabulous Miss Elle!

Headed in with our official paperwork!

Love this shirt!

Oh, so true!

Anytime, I will run for wine anytime!

Next time, I will have one of these - it's a hairband, and says "13.1 - Been there, run that."  Even funnier - the lady's face behind Elle . . . I guess she hasn't been there, run that yet!

My favorite - "In my dreams, I am a Kenyan!"

Another good one - "If found on ground, please drag across finish line!"

And we are thinking a new team name is in order with this one - "One Bad Mother Runner"

This was a very special part of the Expo for me.  There was a board they asked people to sign, to state why they ran.  I thought about it for a minute, and then I finally knew what I've known for several months now.  I run because I'm worth it.  I always have been - it just took this training for me to figure it out.

Others signing the board . . .

Believe it or not, this is a changing room . . . and Elle is changing in there!

Follow the footsteps to packet pick-up!  I had chills heading over there!

Look at me!  I can't believe I'm actually about to do this!

Veteran Halfer!

The women's pace car, which will be following . . . me, duh!

The finish line I will cross on Sunday morning!

Pretty as a Picture!

The words take on a whole new meaning when applied to Miss Sophia . . . to paint the picture, or to paint herself - no one knows!

But it's so much fun!

The Drum . . .

Hand, Hand, Fingers, Thumb.

One Thumb, One Thumb, Drumming on a drum.

One Hand, Two Hands, Drumming on a drum.

Dum Ditty Dum Ditty Dum Dum Dum!

"Hand, Hand, Fingers, Thumb" by Dr. Seuss

USAFit Marathon in Sugar Land

Today I got to experience the other side of running a marathon or half marathon . . . as a volunteer!  I am here to tell you that volunteers are so integral to the success of any race.  Every race I've been in, volunteers have handed me cups of water, spoken encouraging words, pointed me along the course, and slapped me high fives.  Today I got the experience being the encourager!

I have to be honest and say that the conditions for the USAFit Marathon were not ideal.  It was about 45 degrees outside, and it was raining to boot.  I overslept my alarm by about thirty minutes, and ended up getting to race area about 45 minutes prior to start time.  I had planned to be there about an hour to an hour and a half earlier.  Even as I got in the race area, the traffic conditions were terrible.  I sat at a stoplight, waiting to turn off the 59 feeder road, for approximately half an hour.  I felt stressed, and I wasn't even running!  I watched runners jump out of their cars (obviously they had rides) and begin to run in the rain towards the starting area.  I felt bad for those runners, but I especially felt bad for the runners who ended up parking where I parked.

I parked in a gravel parking area, approximately 1.5 miles past the start line.  Up until 7:15 or so, I watched runners park there as well, and then walk or jog 1.5 miles to the start line, to then run either 13.1 miles or 26.2 miles.  Meanwhile, I was helping the rest of the KatyFitters to get our water station going . . . we had a Fiesta theme, and we had lots of awesome decorations, but with the rain we were not able to use a lot of them.  I had brought the stereo, to blast music for all runners.  Other people were supposed to bring their iPods, but we ended up having to use my running iPod Shuffle to provide us with music.  I have to say I was extremely embarrassed to have my running tunes blared out loud for all to hear.  I'm a bit of a teenybopper when it comes to music - if it's in the Top 40, it's probably in my iPod.  So that was a bit embarrassing - especially the fact that my songs were not edited for profanity.  Yep, David Getta's "Damn, You's a Sexy Bitch" was just about rock bottom mortifying for me . . .

In any event, I had a lot of fun volunteering with my fellow KatyFitters, and got to cheer on some of my friends along the way.  When I was standing out there handing out water and Accelerade, having not had my own first half marathon experience, I was choked up and felt tears for all of the runners.  What an awesome accomplishment!  Congratulations to all finishers and all participants!

The African Forest

Today we went to the Houston Zoo with several of our close friends to check out the new African Forest!  The Zoo has worked hard to develop almost a theme park like atmosphere - all of the decorations from the eating establishments to the gift shop to the bathrooms reflect the African Forest.  Plus, you have a really great chance to up close and personal to several of the animals!

Sophia and I by the elephants

Sammy, Sophia and several of their friends checking out the huts in the African Forest

Sammy and his friend make 'beautiful music' on the drums in the African Forest

Sammy and his current flame, M . . . they are so cute together!

Sophia brushes the goat's hair!

All I can say is, thank goodness she didn't decide to brush her own hair after she finished with the goat's! Overall, it was a great day - we enjoyed seeing our friends, and we had a great time!

My Little Model

I'm a model, you know what I mean . . .

And I do my little turn on the catwalk . . .

Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk yeah . . .

I do my little turn on the catwalk . . .