Thursday, October 24, 2013

a little bitty teeny tiny running mishap

I'm going to let you in on a little secret about runners.

They are hard core.

I'm not hard core about pretty much anything. But I surprise myself every once in a while. And it almost always has to do with running.

So let me set the scene. Today. 5:15 am. I'm running with my trusty little B when we get to a long stretch of empty road. We're heading to our hill that we run up and down every week. And I make a critical mistake. Instead of running in the road (not so safe), I lead us up onto the sidewalk (should be much safer). We're under a canopy of trees and there are no street lights anywhere nearby.

Side note: Recently I asked The Man to get me a head lamp for running in the dark. He laughed at me and told me how ridiculous that was. What a goofball I would look like with it on. Mmmmmm Hmmmmm.

Anywho, back to the story.

I'm running blind. And Brenda and I are having a great conversation about a book we're reading. We're talking about Jesus and having fun when WWWOOOOAAAAAAHHHHHHH!

I realize I've tripped. I'm wobbling. My arms fly out. I'm catching myself. But I'm still in a solid forward motion.

And that's when it happens. I hit ANOTHER lip in the sidewalk. And now I'm realizing: You will not recover from this, Kim. You're going DOWN. I wonder how much this will hurt?

And then, there I was. Flying face first onto the dark sidewalk. I'm thinking I should fall to the grass! Fall to the grass! But it's over to my right and I can't change my projected path mid air! So I hit the ground with my left knee (ouch!) and fall hard on my right thigh (Ouch!). But before I can stop this conundrum of physics, I land on my right BOOB (OUCH!!!). And then I realize that I've attempted to break the fall with my right elbow as well.

As I lay there feeling pain all over my old body, I moan and roll over. I start feeling nauseous. Which I do any time I feel pain or even perceive pain. And right about now, sweet little B starts rubbing all over me. She's telling me I'll be fine. It looked bad. She wished she could have grabbed my arm and caught me (how many times have I caught her before she hit the ground?). And all I can think is: you're so sweet, but stop touching me. I'm going to puke! Of course, because she's being so nice, I'm not saying a word. I'm just moaning. And I'm in a cold sweat. And I realize I have no phone on me. I can't get a ride home. How can I even walk there?

Brenda sits down on the sidewalk next to me. At least she's stopped pawing at me, thank goodness. And then she utters the words every runner wants to hear when they've fallen...

Do you want me to stop your Garmin?

excuse me for a minute while I laugh outloud for a moment.

ahem. OK. I'm better. Back to the story.

I weakly say yes and hand her my arm. And as the color comes back into my face, I realize: where is my phone when I need it?! This is going on the blog for sure and I won't even have a picture of my sorry self.

Now I try to lift my head and I feel leaves and grass under it. Do I have leaves in my hair?, I ask B. Ummmm, yes? she replies. But don't worry. I got all the bugs off of you.


Yah! Did you not feel me touching you? I was picking off all these bugs that were on you!

Well aren't I a piece of work?

And that is when I picked my hard core tail up off the ground and kept running.

Oh yes, I did.

Sunday, October 20, 2013

Highlight Run of the Season

You know my friend, Brenda? The small but mighty running partner I have? Yah, recently we gave her a new label under the friendship category. Personal Running Bully.

Let me tell you about my personality. I am recovering type A. And although I can be laid back about many things, I am also a driver in personality. Realtors hate it when I walk in a house, because I leave the tour, assess things quickly, and can know if I am interested in a home in the first 30 seconds. I can walk in and out in 2 minutes, if I don't check myself before being rude. I have a tendency to say things before I think about them. And I'm strong willed. None of these traits make me a bad person. But I have to remind myself sometimes to be quiet. Or still. Or listen.

So to think there's a friend out there that can tell me what to do and I just do it? Seems impossible. I'm the boss! Usually.

So this weekend I had 10 miles to run in my training. And "little B" as our friend Glen calls her, says to me:
Kim! I can't run with you that weekend. I'm running a full. But since you already have 10 miles, you should run the half!! Just think of it as a training run! Run your ten miles and then walk in the last three!

I hemhawed around but the more she said it, the more I bought in. And just like that, I was signed up to run a half, IN TRAINING FOR MY UPCOMING HALF. Am I crazy?!?!

So what did I do?? I enlisted my friend Shawn to come with me!! So here we were, in the dark of morning, freezing our tails off, getting ready to run our "training run" at the HITS half marathon yesterday.

Well, it went well. When I was about 3 miles in I started to actually FEAR, for the first time ever, that I had NO ONE left behind me in this race. Thank God, when I asked a policewoman I passed if there was anyone back there, she laughed and said yes.

So anyway, I felt strong for 6 miles, when my Garmin started to DIE. And it even went well for 9 miles. But once I hit this:

I was mentally OUT. I knew I was done! I had finished 10 miles in 1:54. I was on a good pace. But I'm still in the midst of training and I wasn't prepared to run the last 3 miles ahead of me. So I did what any good runner would do, unless they are an elite athlete or one of my running friends: Brenda, Glen, or Kenny. I popped a Gu. I knew I wasn't running, but I also knew I was out of gas. Mentally and physically.

I made it two more miles before I hit the last water station. There, the sweet high school boy who handed me water said, "It's all down hill from here! Really! You're almost done!"

OK, by now, I've already cried (at mile 9 1/2), and begged Jesus to carry my legs, meanwhile closing my windpipe and almost being unable to breathe. Which almost sent me into a panic attack.

So when I heard his words, I was delirious. I took him literally and could not have been more thankful because the hills on this course were BRUTAL at the beginning. I crested the road ahead of me and looked out to see this:


So I did what any self respecting person would do at this point, when their legs are shot and their mind is on the edge of sanity. I LAUGHED. It started small but it grew. And I couldn't stop myself. I was belly laughing all alone on this street! And I'm pretty sure if the first aid station had been in earshot they would have come running to get me, the crazy lady, off the course: FAST.

But alas, by now, I'm pretty sure THERE WAS NOBODY LEFT ON THE COURSE BUT ME.

So I walked it in. No more running. I gave up the hope and I walked. Until I was about 2/10th of a mile from the finish, and then I got up on my running legs and ran. Just so I didn't look like a LOSER walking across the finish line.

And then I heard my name on the loud speaker and my friend Shawn was there yelling for me.

I got my medal, and took my frozen butt home. To thaw out and rest my weary body. Thank you Brenda, for your splendid idea. ;)

Sunday, October 13, 2013

the offending tree branch revisited

Do you remember the tree branch I encountered in the dark of morning recently? Yah, I saw it on my walk home from the gym this afternoon.

Now, you tell me if you would have seen this in the dark.

I obviously can't get over this.

Your chicken questions answered!

Sweet Beaker. This is what she looked like til about a week ago when she began molting. But now?


Bless. Her. Heart.

But in her defense, she is working on making some new feathers for the winter. Beware, this is a strange sight to see. Don't look if you're squeemish. It kind of grosses ME out and I love these birds like they're my own. Oh wait. They are.

This is one of her bare spots. See those tubes? Those are her new feathers, making their way out. Icky and cool all at the same time, huh?

So now you know. What does it mean for chickens to molt and what does it look like? Besides a bunch of feathers all over Kim's yard.