Good riddance to last week and all the election crap! Being the ever-enthusiastic-political-extraordinaire that I am, here were my voting strategies:
* Kay Hagan vs. Thom Tillis. According to tv ads, you are both mean and, um, suck? Hey there, Sean Haugh. I don't know what you look like or how to pronounce your last name, but mm k, VOTE!
* Someone vs. someone vs. 847 other people that I don't know for NC Court of Appeals Judge. Hey, look! Chuck Winfree! That dude hosted the Love Connection! Wait, no, that was Chuck Woolery. Whatever. Loved that show! VOTE!
* Oooh! Someone named Cheri! I have a Streaker named Cherie. Kinda similar. Wait, what is Cheri running for? Cherie is running the Richmond Marathon in a couple of weeks! Yay! VOTE!
So, maybe politics aren't my strong suit. That's okay though; I've got another race to think about now...
T-Minus one week until Philly! Gulp...
Right after my previous post, I was diagnosed again with strep throat. When I came home from urgent care, I may or may not have thrown our bucket of Halloween candy across the room. CON: Feeling like a loser while having to clean it up by myself. PRO: STILL finding mini packets of candy that I missed...SCORE!
At what should have been the height of my training, I struggled to get the runs done, even calling it quits on my 22-miler at mile 13. Even though I finished my second round of antibiotics five days prior, my fever still lingered above 100, and I set out for the run anyway...in the pouring rain...cuz I'm reelly intelijent. Luckily, Mike knew I was struggling, and just when I needed a pick me up, he and Logan drove by ringing a cowbell out the car window. Little did Mike know that his pick me up ended up being just that - he picked me up, and we drove straight to Starbucks. Peppermint white mochas in red holiday cups are known to have a healing, calming effect (<-- I made that up). And no, I did not throw it. I'm not that stupid. That shit is good.
Since then, my runs have been up and down. Some are like DUDE! ...you're in great shape! Some are like DUDE! ...find a new hobby! I'm tired and all over the place. Plus, while the fever has subsided, all the antibiotics have ripped my tummy to shreds. My neighbors must think I am the fastest woman alive as I sprint back to the toilet house on about 77% of my runs. Oh, and if anyone wants to challenge me to a farting contest, you better bring your A-GAME cuz it is ON! (<-- TMI alert. ...I bet you wish I put this at the beginning of the sentence, eh?).
Yesterday, I went to the doctor to get all this tummy and strep mess checked out, and after impatiently waiting for close to two hours to actually see the doc (I may or may not have gotten huffy with the front desk lady out of boredom), here were her diagnoses: 1) I need to cut out lactose, 2) I need to cut out gluten, and 3) I have a small, umbilical hernia in my tummy. Here were my responses: 1) Nope. Peppermint white mochas have lactose, 2) Heyull nope. Jen runs on gluten as much as America runs on Dunkin, and 3) What! WHAT!? Do you really want to go there with me right now? Let me guess! You want to perform surgery! Yeahhhh, give me that laparoscope, and I'll shove it up *%$ *^%&. Okay, okay, I did not say that, but you damn betcha I was thinking it!
Mm k, no matter what, when I get to Philly, I am there to RACE! I have been given a seeded bib number, which means I get to start in front behind the pros/elites. And I think we get special bathrooms? Yeah, they should probably give me my own bathroom. Like, at every mile marker. K, thanks. I am excited, with a side of nutty, but like I tell the runners I coach...you do the best you can do on any given day. Three weeks ago, while at my worst, I contemplated dropping out of the race. Then I told myself to suck it up; you are healthy and able, and you will finish what you started. ...unless you shit yourself. Then stop. Seriously, just stop running.
I have learned a lot over these past few months. I know now that when we have another baby, I will not train for a race in the first year. Too many unknowns and unforeseen setbacks, which if you are Type-A like me (Wait, me? Type A? Nooooo.) can drive ya to drink (Wait, me? Drink? Nooooo.). Seriously though, I am continually trying to better myself at living in the "gray" instead of the "black and white". I'm an awesome planner, but when plans get derailed, I don't always handle it so well. Okay, okay, so I suck at it. Regardless, I do know one thing...I cannot wait to see Logan's face when I cross the finish line next Sunday and to plant a big, sweaty smooch on those chubby cheeks. No matter what the race brings, that face is guaranteed to make me smile!
Happy running and racing to everyone in Philly!
Spectators need to carbo-load too!
(this is kinda how I feel about gels, buddy...)
