After helping the little ladies get up and somewhat ready for school, I went for my 6 mile run. (Quick aside: while getting ready, Ladybug wrote her little boyfriend a note since he's no longer in her daycare classroom. She said it read: "I love Zachary very much." Absolutely adorable.) There's something afoot (hahaha) because the past few runs I've done, I hit the end of the 1st mile and my left leg muscles go nuts. Mainly starting in the arch of my foot going up around my ankle and then up the back of my calf, it's like the muscles are tightening - not in a cramp - but to the point of major pain. Coach says she noticed that my stride has changed so I probably need to get my stride looked at again to make sure I've got the right running shoes, especially since I have all my back issues to begin with. Who needs unnecessary pain, right?
As I've decided that I will most likely be in pain of some sort while running during the 70.3, so I've been trying to force myself to run through it until it goes away. Well, it must be obvious to others that I'm in pain while this is going on because today a few minutes after the pain started to subside letting me run faster (the pain seriously impedes my running pace), Little Miss Speedy Pants sprints by me and says "Good job! Way to run through the pain!" While I know this perfect stranger was trying to be encouraging, the fact that she was leaving me in the dust as she said it gave me the incredible urge to hit her. I don't generally get the urge to hit people, but I was not in my happy place (no, I didn't act on it).
Luckily, the pain eased up. The rest of mile 3, and miles 4 and 5 were pretty good. I was speeding up, and then mile 6, I was booking it. I'm not sure how fast I was going but I was clicking along to the point that it seemed like it was the shortest mile I'd ever run. I must have been doing alright because including the 0.2 that I walked because of drinking and eating nutrition (still working on the camelbak mold issue), and the snail's pace when my leg was evil (at one point I think my shadow might have been running faster than I was), my overall pace for the 6 miles was 12:25. I'd love to get my average pace to a consistent 11 minute mile, but with pain involved I will take what my body will let me do!
Run completed, completely drenched but feeling good. Feeling like I could run farther. I have to say I love that feeling at the end of a run, feeling like I could keep on going if I wanted to.
Southern by Affiliation.
I've come to the realization that I am Southern by Affiliation. I was born in DC, raised in Maryland and Florida (where Southerners like to say that Florida is so far South it's North again because of all of the Northern transplants). I am decidedly not Southern by birth. But, when you lived 10 years in Atlanta, one of my best friends from Atlanta is a bit of a Southern Belle (who I am going to call Belle in this blog), and my dear friend Angela was Southern incarnate from her roots (and the return to her roots) in Arkansas, I guess these things rub off on you. It's not necessarily a bad thing, either. There are certain things you do or do not do, unless you wish to be labelled for life as "the one who... back in 1984" or even worse, they start looking for "Yankees" in your family tree.
One of these things for Belle that has completely rubbed off on me is the fact that when you go somewhere that you will meet people, you should look good. This doesn't mean that I've fully embraced the concept of wearing makeup to the grocery and I certainly do not wear it while training for my triathlons, but there are times and places where I have learned it unforgiveable not to look good. Functions at your husband's work - even if they are outdoor volleball games - are ones that come to mind. Costco is another. Sounds funny, but the number of people we run into that Mr. Darcy knows either through work or one of his associations is amazing. Then there's the obvious ones - parties (even for toddlers), church, eating out, and especially meetings with other women.
It's a little known fact that while women do dress for their men, really women dress for other women. Remember, you never want to make that list of "she's the one that.... back in 1999." So when I went to the Junior League Provisional Retreat on Saturday, I made sure I looked good. Nice outfit, make up done nicely, toenails painted, hair done. The shock of it all when there were people in knock around shorts and no makeup! I had a nice little laugh to myself about it later. Belle transformed me by refusing to leave the house with me until I at least put on lipstick and some powder, helping me shop for clothes for various occasions, and leading by example. I never realized my Southerness by Affiliation until I lived outside of the South again. I may not wear full make up to the grocery, but I atleast wear nice shorts and a nice shirt. No holes, stains or cut offs, thank yee. If I'm going to be in a room full of women, I will dress nicely, be sure to wear cute shoes, accessorize the best I can, and do my hair and makeup. And realize that when I think to myself "Good Lord, where is that woman's makeup? Doesn't she know where she is?" that Belle and I are now closer in Southerness than I ever thought before.
The other way this came up was last night, I opened my Southern Living magazine excited to find all the Fall receipes and places to go to see the changing of the leaves, etc. Not that I cook many of the receipes, plant as directed, or even make my table tops look like a picture out of Southern Living... but I sure like to read about the possibilities. Well, I forgot that they change some of the content based on where you live. Florida doesn't have a lot of leave changing, cooling of the weather, and other fun that other Southern States enjoy. We have football, sweltering hot games played in the sun, but that is about Fall like as Florida gets. So some of my Fall reading was diminshed and I thought, "Well, bless their hearts. Florida fall is just like summer." Now there's something that non-Southerners need to know. "Bless Your Heart" does not mean something nearly as sweet as it sounds... it means more along the lines of "you're so stupid" Southerners just say it nicer.
So, it would seem I am Southern by Affiliation and only realizing it now that I no longer truly live in the South. Southerners don't buy liquor on Sundays at the store, you get it at the bar!
Life Goes On.
After my meltdown yesterday about well, everything, I realized that my life is good and that come what may, I have it good and life goes on. I realized that we all have things that can make our life miserable if we let it. The trick is not to let it. Yes, things stink at times. We have heartaches, like losing loved ones, that never really go away. We might not like the size of our waist or that scar we've had since we were 10. But in the end, life is good. The trick to happiness is not to keep looking for it, but to realize you're living it right now. How many times do we look back at something that seemed "horrible" at the time and realize that life was good and we were happy despite it all? Life is not easy. We go through things that are horrible, but always mixed in with the horrible are the good.
So, Life goes on and I am choosing to be happy. Here are a few pictures of what makes me happy...