That's it. Yesterday I was spinning in my garage at 4 am for an hour and then ran 12 miles, followed by a little dip in the ocean at Fletcher Cove. Today, I am laid out with the flu of sorts. I felt a little tired yesterday, but not terrible. We even went to watch our neighbor play polo at the polo fields. The horses are so graceful and beautiful. Really, it is an amazingly aggressive but graceful sport. There certainly was a lot of testosterone on that field.
Today was not as enjoyable since I feel like I have been hit by a bus. I am hoping I get over this flu fast because I cannot stand a day off.My 3 year old has it, too, and it is ugly around these parts.
Monday, August 28, 2006
Friday, August 25, 2006
Brick Friday
"Brick workout". Don't you all just love that term? It sounds so intense and meaningful. I think that is what I did today. Up just before 4:00 am and hit the gym...legs and some uppers...my tukis is killing me right now. Off to met the run group at 5:30 for a 3 mile warm up before the turbo spin from 6-7 and then ran again, 3 more miles to finish by 7:20 ish.
Marc was off work today to get ready and rest his legs before the 50K tomorrow in LA. I opted out of the race, knowing this weekend has to be about our 5 year old and prepping for the big first day of Kindergarten Monday. I know, too, that it is probably not my cup of tea...bush wacking trhough some overgrown trail doesn't really appeal to me as much as it did when I considered it 2 months ago. I am sad to send him off solo, however. He makes me so proud, bringing home the silver last night from the Aquathlon at the beach, second only to pro Jim Vance. My man is one talented man in his sport. I love watching him race like he means it. I knew he was sad Jim showed up, but Marc never gives up. Gotta love that in an athlete.
Finished the day tonight with a little (very little) Cove swim and then another 3 mile run. The water was as clear and as beautiful as it gets and teaming with sea creatures. There were about a million divers out there tonight inspecting all the species. I always feel better when there are lots of bodies around. Someone said he saw a big thresher shark, supposedly more aggressive than the leopards that are always around. Personallly, I am not excited to see anything in the shark family. I try to just put my head down and swim, but when it is crystal clear, it is difficult not to see what is lurking below.
I am exhausted thinking of those boys driving up to Malibu for the night. Cannot wait to fall into bed and sleep like I mean it. Hoping the kids stay quiet so that dream can be a reality tonight.
Marc was off work today to get ready and rest his legs before the 50K tomorrow in LA. I opted out of the race, knowing this weekend has to be about our 5 year old and prepping for the big first day of Kindergarten Monday. I know, too, that it is probably not my cup of tea...bush wacking trhough some overgrown trail doesn't really appeal to me as much as it did when I considered it 2 months ago. I am sad to send him off solo, however. He makes me so proud, bringing home the silver last night from the Aquathlon at the beach, second only to pro Jim Vance. My man is one talented man in his sport. I love watching him race like he means it. I knew he was sad Jim showed up, but Marc never gives up. Gotta love that in an athlete.
Finished the day tonight with a little (very little) Cove swim and then another 3 mile run. The water was as clear and as beautiful as it gets and teaming with sea creatures. There were about a million divers out there tonight inspecting all the species. I always feel better when there are lots of bodies around. Someone said he saw a big thresher shark, supposedly more aggressive than the leopards that are always around. Personallly, I am not excited to see anything in the shark family. I try to just put my head down and swim, but when it is crystal clear, it is difficult not to see what is lurking below.
I am exhausted thinking of those boys driving up to Malibu for the night. Cannot wait to fall into bed and sleep like I mean it. Hoping the kids stay quiet so that dream can be a reality tonight.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Athlete: 0, Mom: 1
This is my scorecard for the day. As an athlete, I am tired. I lifted bis and tris and then I ran an easy 5 ish miles at the track workout. My arch is a little achey in my left foot. I got on the trainer tonight, too, upon my hub's encouragement, for about 40 minutes. It wasn't as dreadful as I thought it was going to be.
So, my workouts felt flat and menial, but as a mom, I felt high. My baby, my three-year-old baby boy was a joy to watch. My clumbsy, 2 left footed little guy must have grown overnight developmentally. We were at the park with other kids and he wanted to ride his scooter there. Picture a rickety little red scooter with three wheels. His older sister was tearing around on her razor like a pro. The boy desperately wanted to keep up with her. A few leg strokes and he gave up on the incline to the park. But once we got there, with a little coaxing, he rode it around the basketball courts. He actually looked coordinated for the first time in his short life, though his huge black skater helmet whispered otherwise. He looked so top heavy with that thing on his mellon. But, he wasn't tripping over his feet or falling down. He was riding the scooter and he had the right rhythm even. He ventured up a little incline on the bike path from the hoops and when he realized he was on his way back down the other side, it was too late to stop with the momentum behind him. His little blue eyes were as big as baseballs when he felt the wind in his face. My knee jerk reaction was to run over and rescue him, but I saw the short incline was leveling off just 3 feet in front of him, so I let him go. Amazingly, he totally pulled it off and the look of accomplishment on his face was beyond words. He totally made it and he knew it.
"Wet's do that again, mommy!" Up he went on the loop again, 3 more times and each time he was a little gutsier. He found a little glipse of not just what it means to be brave, but to push himself out of his comfort zone, something he never does. He was so proud and I learned that I need to let him go a little more often. I need to let go a little more often. I still want to push him around in the stroller and cuddle him and caudle him. Really, he wants to ride with the big kids and he showed me just how today.
So, my workouts felt flat and menial, but as a mom, I felt high. My baby, my three-year-old baby boy was a joy to watch. My clumbsy, 2 left footed little guy must have grown overnight developmentally. We were at the park with other kids and he wanted to ride his scooter there. Picture a rickety little red scooter with three wheels. His older sister was tearing around on her razor like a pro. The boy desperately wanted to keep up with her. A few leg strokes and he gave up on the incline to the park. But once we got there, with a little coaxing, he rode it around the basketball courts. He actually looked coordinated for the first time in his short life, though his huge black skater helmet whispered otherwise. He looked so top heavy with that thing on his mellon. But, he wasn't tripping over his feet or falling down. He was riding the scooter and he had the right rhythm even. He ventured up a little incline on the bike path from the hoops and when he realized he was on his way back down the other side, it was too late to stop with the momentum behind him. His little blue eyes were as big as baseballs when he felt the wind in his face. My knee jerk reaction was to run over and rescue him, but I saw the short incline was leveling off just 3 feet in front of him, so I let him go. Amazingly, he totally pulled it off and the look of accomplishment on his face was beyond words. He totally made it and he knew it.
"Wet's do that again, mommy!" Up he went on the loop again, 3 more times and each time he was a little gutsier. He found a little glipse of not just what it means to be brave, but to push himself out of his comfort zone, something he never does. He was so proud and I learned that I need to let him go a little more often. I need to let go a little more often. I still want to push him around in the stroller and cuddle him and caudle him. Really, he wants to ride with the big kids and he showed me just how today.
Sunday, August 20, 2006
Malibu, the Beautiful versus America's Finest City
So, last weekend we were in Malibu. The kids were running through my family's vineyard and riding scooters in the circular drive. We threw the football until after dark and played ping pong in the front, as any good trailer trash Malibu family should. It was a fabulous time. I ache to be with them again.
I realized last weekend as I ran along Malibu Beach just how out of touch with reality these locals really are. I think it is kind of funny that my fam has all of these crazy comforts in their home. The huge house equipt with pool and spa, the rolling vineyard overlooking the pacific, the ocean views and Murphy beds all come with the territory, I suppose (though the elevator is a little over the top). I have always taken these things for granted growing up in the hood. Now being out of that element for 10 years and raising a family of my own, I see just how surreal that part of my life was. It was totally normal to babysit for people who had media rooms and bowling allies in their homes. It was a given that these people had huge sprawling properties with verandas and palapas galore. I knew no other way of life outside of indulging beside the pool and beach....enter my life presently.
Here I am, a decade later last weekend, running down Malibu Road reading the signs people hang on their beachfront homes. Signs that read: "Mermaid Crossing". It was 5:45 am and I witnessed what looked like a beautiful painting: one single fisherman standing out on the reef with his fishingpole and tack, enjoying the morning of solitude. Even if he caught nothing, he caught the beautiful sunrise and enjoyed the ocean air. The waves were calm and the sand was smooth, mine were the only footprints moving forward. The wind was quiet and so was my mood. My feet were gliding over the beach. It was almost emotional, really, when I think of it. We really are living in a dream, right? I consider the fact that I am existing on a serious budget in San Diego with a hardworking husband, trying to make the dream a reality. The dream is that of being able to own a home and still have food on the table, plus lead the kind of quality life we want to lead. All of these races are getting expensive!
Today was America's Finest City Half Marathon, and I had to consider the possibility that as much as I love and miss my home town, perhaps San Diego lives up to this claim of being the Finest. It sure felt that way, as we charged down from Cabrillo National Monument. Marc and I were fortunate enough to gain free entry into the race, courtsey of the Tri Club of San Diego. The day began with us boarding the Charter buses from Balboa Park, the race finish. We, unfortunately, got on the bus with the rockin' out driver from hell. I am pretty sure he was convinced he was in the race himself, driving that shuttle. He roared around the turns in Point Loma graded for 30 miles per hour at about 60. All the while, music blaring so loudly we could barely carry on conversation. We made it to the start with an hour to wait. Thankfully the weather was a pleasant 70 degrees and we chatted it up with fellow runners. The music was rolling at the start, Cool and the Gang, "Celebrate Good Times" . Tracy and I joined in. We didn't care that we looked ridiculous. I was still dying laughing about how she talked about passing the cornish game hen she ate for dinner the night before. We runners are disgusting, I know. A few minutes after 7:00 am and we were off.
My plan was to hold 7:30 pace, knowing the danger of going out too fast with the first 4 miles of the race all downhill. I always dread going down, both on bike and on foot, and today was no exception. Mile one was 7:14 pace, followed by another mile even faster, 7:11, then 7:15. I knew I had to back it off if I were to survive the killer uphill finish from mile 10 and on. Mile 4 came and I was sick of the downhill already. We hit the flats at mile 5 and I tried to get into some kind of normal pace. The flat felt akward and simply uncomfortable, really. We ran around Harbor Island, out a little loop. Just before mile 7, I decided to take a GU. Mile 8 came. I felt like I was shutting down. My legs were sore, my head was aching, I really was questioning my reason for wanting to do this race afterall. I thought of my friend, Jen, who I knew would be calling for the race report and I knew I had to do something about my negative attitude. That in conjunction with the GU, I was feeling more alive between mile 9 and 10. I was thinking that my sweet husband was already done and enjoying the fisnish. I was simply happy that I actually had turned the corner on that death feeling and I felt victorious as a result. I still cannot say I was in a rhythm, but I was beginning to pass people who had passed me at mile 8. Maybe it was the gradual uphill that began at mile 10, I was happy to be utilizing different muscles, at last. the race climbed and then at mile 12, it really began to climb into the park finish. I looked up to see a little bald headed baby in a baby carrier, strapped to the woman whose face I recognized as my friend Jen! She didn't call....she showed up at the race finish with her two beautiful boys! It was just the lift I needed to carry me up that long and dreadful last hill, though I was passing people left and right and it felt great. Up the hill, over the bridge and to the finish, I looked at my watch. It read 1:36 and change. I really wanted to be in the 1:37 range, but the finish line was just a little further than I anticipated. 1:38:24 was my finishing time, 7:30 pace exactly. I can live with that.
San Diego is, indeed, a fine city. On days like today, I am blessed and honored to live here and call it my residence. I still think of the Mermaid Sightings often, however. i long for the carefree and fleeting feeling life brings in LA. I think of that lonley fisherman I saw that early morning in Malibu, I think of the ocean up North and wonder if my kids will ever know that lack of reality. I am not even sure that is what I want for them, for my family. Maybe I just crave it myself from time to time.
I realized last weekend as I ran along Malibu Beach just how out of touch with reality these locals really are. I think it is kind of funny that my fam has all of these crazy comforts in their home. The huge house equipt with pool and spa, the rolling vineyard overlooking the pacific, the ocean views and Murphy beds all come with the territory, I suppose (though the elevator is a little over the top). I have always taken these things for granted growing up in the hood. Now being out of that element for 10 years and raising a family of my own, I see just how surreal that part of my life was. It was totally normal to babysit for people who had media rooms and bowling allies in their homes. It was a given that these people had huge sprawling properties with verandas and palapas galore. I knew no other way of life outside of indulging beside the pool and beach....enter my life presently.
Here I am, a decade later last weekend, running down Malibu Road reading the signs people hang on their beachfront homes. Signs that read: "Mermaid Crossing". It was 5:45 am and I witnessed what looked like a beautiful painting: one single fisherman standing out on the reef with his fishingpole and tack, enjoying the morning of solitude. Even if he caught nothing, he caught the beautiful sunrise and enjoyed the ocean air. The waves were calm and the sand was smooth, mine were the only footprints moving forward. The wind was quiet and so was my mood. My feet were gliding over the beach. It was almost emotional, really, when I think of it. We really are living in a dream, right? I consider the fact that I am existing on a serious budget in San Diego with a hardworking husband, trying to make the dream a reality. The dream is that of being able to own a home and still have food on the table, plus lead the kind of quality life we want to lead. All of these races are getting expensive!
Today was America's Finest City Half Marathon, and I had to consider the possibility that as much as I love and miss my home town, perhaps San Diego lives up to this claim of being the Finest. It sure felt that way, as we charged down from Cabrillo National Monument. Marc and I were fortunate enough to gain free entry into the race, courtsey of the Tri Club of San Diego. The day began with us boarding the Charter buses from Balboa Park, the race finish. We, unfortunately, got on the bus with the rockin' out driver from hell. I am pretty sure he was convinced he was in the race himself, driving that shuttle. He roared around the turns in Point Loma graded for 30 miles per hour at about 60. All the while, music blaring so loudly we could barely carry on conversation. We made it to the start with an hour to wait. Thankfully the weather was a pleasant 70 degrees and we chatted it up with fellow runners. The music was rolling at the start, Cool and the Gang, "Celebrate Good Times" . Tracy and I joined in. We didn't care that we looked ridiculous. I was still dying laughing about how she talked about passing the cornish game hen she ate for dinner the night before. We runners are disgusting, I know. A few minutes after 7:00 am and we were off.
My plan was to hold 7:30 pace, knowing the danger of going out too fast with the first 4 miles of the race all downhill. I always dread going down, both on bike and on foot, and today was no exception. Mile one was 7:14 pace, followed by another mile even faster, 7:11, then 7:15. I knew I had to back it off if I were to survive the killer uphill finish from mile 10 and on. Mile 4 came and I was sick of the downhill already. We hit the flats at mile 5 and I tried to get into some kind of normal pace. The flat felt akward and simply uncomfortable, really. We ran around Harbor Island, out a little loop. Just before mile 7, I decided to take a GU. Mile 8 came. I felt like I was shutting down. My legs were sore, my head was aching, I really was questioning my reason for wanting to do this race afterall. I thought of my friend, Jen, who I knew would be calling for the race report and I knew I had to do something about my negative attitude. That in conjunction with the GU, I was feeling more alive between mile 9 and 10. I was thinking that my sweet husband was already done and enjoying the fisnish. I was simply happy that I actually had turned the corner on that death feeling and I felt victorious as a result. I still cannot say I was in a rhythm, but I was beginning to pass people who had passed me at mile 8. Maybe it was the gradual uphill that began at mile 10, I was happy to be utilizing different muscles, at last. the race climbed and then at mile 12, it really began to climb into the park finish. I looked up to see a little bald headed baby in a baby carrier, strapped to the woman whose face I recognized as my friend Jen! She didn't call....she showed up at the race finish with her two beautiful boys! It was just the lift I needed to carry me up that long and dreadful last hill, though I was passing people left and right and it felt great. Up the hill, over the bridge and to the finish, I looked at my watch. It read 1:36 and change. I really wanted to be in the 1:37 range, but the finish line was just a little further than I anticipated. 1:38:24 was my finishing time, 7:30 pace exactly. I can live with that.
San Diego is, indeed, a fine city. On days like today, I am blessed and honored to live here and call it my residence. I still think of the Mermaid Sightings often, however. i long for the carefree and fleeting feeling life brings in LA. I think of that lonley fisherman I saw that early morning in Malibu, I think of the ocean up North and wonder if my kids will ever know that lack of reality. I am not even sure that is what I want for them, for my family. Maybe I just crave it myself from time to time.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Tuesday Track
16 x 90 seconds speed, 4 times through. This was the track workout today and it was painful. Jonathan and I decided we needed to clear at least a lap in those 90 seconds, so we basically ran quarters in around 87 seconds, or so. Not super fast, but my legs were tired. My body is tired. I dragged myself through all 16 of them and we congratulated ourselves for finishing. The rest of the group joined in on our second set, we had just started with the earliest group. It was good to be done when most everyone else had to finish the final set of four. By the end, I felt like vomiting within the first few steps of stopping. That is a good workout.
I made it to the turbo spin for a quicky on the bike before I had to get home so hubs could be off to waterpolo. It was a good little sweat. My bike is filthy from the rain. I often wonder if time were not the enemy, how much more could I accomplish in a day? Today seemed to run away from me at 9:00 pm. Tomorrow's 4 am wake up call will come much too soon, and I still have so much to do as I look around the house. I think I am getting in bed.
I made it to the turbo spin for a quicky on the bike before I had to get home so hubs could be off to waterpolo. It was a good little sweat. My bike is filthy from the rain. I often wonder if time were not the enemy, how much more could I accomplish in a day? Today seemed to run away from me at 9:00 pm. Tomorrow's 4 am wake up call will come much too soon, and I still have so much to do as I look around the house. I think I am getting in bed.
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