This halloweenie is heading home! :)

Well it is official. This time last year, on this very weekend, Doug and I were out here in Southern California looking at places to live. So it is appropriate on this weekend, that we are heading back home to Colorado for a little bit of Rocky Mountain love. I am anxious to get out of town for a few days, as both him and I have been busy bees at work, and a respite from the office for a few days will be nice. It's so funny to me how I can go weeks and months not missing Colorado, not thinking of our house, not worrying about stuff at home. And the minute I know we are heading back home for a visit, suddenly my heart wants to get there as soon as possible. This go around, we are checking on the house, and making sure it is all winterized (although rumors are it is in the 80s back home in Colorado, odd for it being November. Halloweens are always filled with the snow that drifts in right about the time that a trick or treater lands on your doorstep. Rarely can I remember going door to door as a kid without having a coat over that years creative costume. But regardless of temps it will be good to be in the old house again.

We are also going home to vote. Doug and I don't want to miss our opportunity to vote in this years election, it seeming so much more important this year than any other. And since we are both still registered in the old 'hood, it is as good an excuse as any to take some time off, stand in a line, and make our choices. I am energized this is another reason we are heading home. While there are a few ballot measures I would definitely vote against here in Cali if we were registered (definitely would vote no on prop 8), I am glad my vote for president is counting in my hometown. You can move the gal outta Colorado but ya can't move the Colorado out of her. 

Anyway looking forward to the time away. Hope all had a great halloweenie day, back in a few days. (throwing up the "gone fishin" sign.)

Tissue anyone?

When I was a kid, getting sick was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing in the sense that it meant mom would baby me, take care of me, make sure I had hot soup, hot tea, enough blankets to cover my shivering body. It meant she was there to drive me to the doctor if I needed medicine, or check up on me from time to time when I needed her help. It was a curse because I was a little kid who never wanted to miss school. NOt in the nerdy sense, but the social sense. I was always nervous that something major would go down and it would be the day I would be home with a snotty nose, or an upset tummy.

But getting sick as an adult SUCKS. For the last few years it has meant one thing, and one thing only for me, sinus pain and infections that I could totally do without. Over the years, as with everything else that appears to be falling apart on my over 20s body, my sinuses and allergies are in overdrive during different parts of the year. And hooray, now that it is October, my body believes it is time to whack me with my seasonal cold.

I have done really well over the last years not to get too sick. Have been able to handle getting through some rough and cold winters back home in Colorado without the germy bugs hitting my body. But move to the state where it is still in the 90s in October (yes...it is really still that hot. It is killing me. I am ready to pull out the long sleeves, not the capris!) I find myself sick. Stuffed up, sinuses a hurtin' and a sore throat that feels like someone ripped it raw. (great picture eh?). I had  hoped I could escape this pain, as Doug has been sick for a week now with the same symptoms. Unfortuneately, it hit me over the  head like a two by four this morning. I've got zicam, some nasal wash through me so far, and plan on taking some robotussin tonight after I get done writing this.

When did getting sick turn not fun. MOM..where are you with the soup?! 

Here's hoping I shake this stuff this week. We are heading home (home as in Colorado home) on Saturday, and I do NOT want to have to fly with this. On the plus side..getting sick in my cushy house at home doesn't sound THAT bad :)

The good, the bad (blisters) and the ugly.

Well, it has officially been two weeks since my half marathon. I've had time to reflect over it, think about it, analyze parts of it..and time to process that day and the aftermath. So it's about time to write about it!

Sunday October 12th started out extremely early for me. I agreed to meet a few of my co-workers who were also doing the race, at work at 6am. The race started at 7:30, and rather than drive myself down to Long Beach, I figured going down with others would make the race not only more interesting, but take a bit of the stress of me meeting up with the others alone. If nothing else, I at least had part of the group with me. The plan was, for all of us to convene down there about 6:30, meet by a group of palm trees, get some stretching in, and be set for the start of the race. Ah, best laid plans.....

The reality, we left work closer to 6:30. On the way down there, we were in constant contact with the rest of our group to see who was where, on what part of the 710 (freeway that gets you down to Long Beach). The closer we got, the more traffic we feared we would hit. But somehow, through my friend Spring's driving we made it through to Long Beach relatively unscathed.

However, realizing how late we were (we pulled into the parking lot we parked at about 7:15), we needed to "jog" to the start of the race. That meant running probably another 1.5 miles to the start (yes, we parked that far away...grrr.) I like to believe I actually ran 15 miles that day instead of 13.1 :) The good news, by the time we started, the crowd, thick and plentiful at the start of the race (we watched a wave go by while we were waiting in line at a port a potty), had thinned out by then. No running shoulder to shoulder with anyone.

Along the route, we met up with another part of our group, my friend Sandee. This was good news for me. Sandee was someone I knew I needed to pace with. In many of our training runs I realized that she ran a steady pace for each 3 miles we ran. Knowing that my "stop and go" approach would have left me angry and tired, stopping to walk and then running again, when I met up with her, it was easy running the rest of the way. Not easy in that we were going slow, but easy in that we were at a pace that I could handle for 13 miles. I slowly started to believe I could hack actually running this whole thing. Yes, it got harder, and more painful with each step, but hey...no pain no gain right.

The GOOD part of this accomplishment, no one can take away the sense of pride I have for completing it. Yes a group of us did run it, but with different times, most of us didn't know where another group member was along the course. And even running next to Sandee (and our  friend Andy who we met around mile 6), I still was very aware how much this race was me against myself. Around mile 10 I slowed down to walk. This is what I feared would happen much earlier in the course (at like mile 5) but I had found a way to push through. But by mile 10 a blister that had formed on the side of my right arch made itself much more known and was quite uncomfortable. So I reasoned that gave me cause to slow down and walk. After about 30 seconds my brain kicked in and went "wait..you have ran for 10  miles..and NOW..with less than a Rose Bowl loop (which is 3 miles) you want to walk! UM NO! I think the other thing that did it for me was looking to the crowd that was slowly lining the course now and seeing a sign that totally made me laugh and suck it up. It read "you signed up for this, so keep going you are almost there!" A silly yet needed reminder that I decided to put myself through this, so I had to decide to pull myself out of it by completing. Those last 3 miles were the hardest three I have ever ran in my life. But when I got the the .1 of my 13 miles, saw the finish line, had Eye of the Tiger blaring in my ears (yes..I loaded that song to finish to on my ipod shuffle), I realized I completed a year in the making goal! Time officially...2 hours 23 minutes. The time on the finish clock shows much later, but we started 13 minutes after the start of the official gun start so I know my time was better. Even through my pain, I was smiling the whole rest of the day.

The BAD part of the race however, the blisters. I had bought socks earlier that week I had tried out that had toe sections for each of my toes (like gloves or mittens for your feet basically). I had been developing blisters on my baby toes on my right foot for a few runs before and after googling research on blister remedies, found a pair of socks that a couple of sites recommended to tackle blisters. But in the long run, (hahah..great pun), my toes faired fine while my heels and arch areas were compromised. In total, I developed 5 blisters. The two on each arch areas of my foot the most severe (nice little liquid filled lovelies about 2 inches a piece. But again, the accomplishment of the day far outweighed the pain and healing it has taken to get my feet closer to normal. They are still a bit tender, but I am much better than I was last week.

The UGLY? Well running since has not been a barrel of fun :( Our group took the week after the race off, knowing that after enduring 13 miles in one day (on a Sunday no less..no days rest before work the next day) we knew we needed time to heal our aching muscles. But the reality, I have done two 3 mile runs since, both with ugly times and heinous results (my pace has disappeared and I am again back to running and stopping to walk and then running again. I am  hoping that choosing not to run a 5K this morning and getting myself back into the gym to supplement my running will do wonders to kick start me back into shape again. And believe it or not, pain and all, I WOULD like to do another half marathon (although at mile 13, when I saw the split between the full and 1/2 I realized I have NO desire to complete a full marathon. Running 13 more miles at that point would've officially broke me. For now, I am proud of my accomplishment, and look forward to brainstorming on a new goal to document down come resolution time.

On the cusp of achievement

I have never been one who has been good with follow through. I love to talk big about something I can do/will do, but when it comes right down to putting "my money where my mouth is" I have, in the past had a tendency to fail to really do it. A few years ago, I set about changing this.

Last January, I sat down, and with pen and paper, made resolutions like I always do. Promising myself I would tighten up finances, loose weight, eat healthier, these are staples that always end up on that list of resolutions. About the only thing that differs is the year affixed to the top of the page. The difference, is last year I DID follow through. I got healthier, began working out, and actually did fix up some of my finances.

So with a new year and a new environment, I promised myself yet a new goal for this year...complete a 1/2 marathon. 13.1 miles. An accomplishment that I thought was crazy 2 years ago. Something I was shooting for in all my crazy runs in the snow last year, but knew I was not at all ready for.

I sit, one day away from completing this goal. Tomorrow, while most of you reading this (if there really ARE any people reading this) are still sleeping, I will be in a car, on the way down to Long Beach California. My first (and hopefully, if all goes well, not last) half marathon in my sites. The International City Bank Long Beach Half Marathon. 

Getting to this point feels like quite the accomplishment in itself. When I first moved here to California, I wasn't sure of how I was going to accomplish this goal. Most of my running last year was done in the gym, and my road running came only when I did a race. Not much on training the legs to run consistently on asphalt, concrete and trails. I had heard that there were co-workers who ran as part of a group, at this place called the Rose bowl (which only sounded familiar cause I had maybe watched the Rose bowl game on TV), but didn't know how seriously they actually took running, let alone training for something that involved running almost 3 hours. Would they be up for trying one too?

Running is a unique sport. It can be both very individual, and a team sport. Granted, when you are out there, sweating, gasping for air, sometimes it feels like you are the only lonely soul going through that type of "pain". And as someone who did my runs last year alone, it does suck to have that feeling and know there isn't someone in front of you, or at your shoulder who you know pushing you along.

The cool thing is this, this accomplishment, something I really wanted to do for myself, couldn't have been achieved without my "team." A great set of co-workers who I definitely now consider friends, who have helped push me along the way. They made me realize my slight desire to run was actually more of a passion and hobby than I first realized. That with their help, humor and companionship these last few months during runs after work, early mornings at the park by work, and pushing myself on the weekends to get in miles, culminate with 13 miles tomorrow. 

One more goal to check off my list of things I FOLLOWED through on! :) Stay tuned for the play by play of the race in the next blog!

Season's Change?

On Saturday of this coming  weekend, it will be officially 10 months since this crazy Coloradan has been living the So Cal lifestyle. Hard to believe the days and time have seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. When we first started this "new life" out here I remembered thinking, if I can only get to October, I will feel better, I will be more at home. And the truth is, I do feel more settled these many months later.

However, it goes without saying that my mind, which is very trained to deal with the monotony of what I have been used to in the past, is having a hard time again, wrapping itself around another key difference here in California I haven't yet found comfort in, the lack of "true season change."

What do you mean by "true season change" Jess, you ask? Simple...it is freaking hot here, STILL. For all 32 of my previous years, October means cooler temps. It means finding those sweaters you had been hiding in the basement, cause you will need them soon. It means home owners throughout Colorado can soon put away their lawnmowers, because October brings frost, and an added bonus on Halloween every year, spooky Snow and howling wind.

But this year, for us, October means one thing, temps that I don't normally see on some of the hottest days back home in Colorado. Last week, with two weeks left to train for our 1/2 Marathon, we could not get in a few training runs. Why? The temps reached a balmy and uncomfortable 102, and 100 respectively on Monday and Tuesday of last week. YIPES! Remind me, hasn't the calendar been reading the beginning of fall for a few weeks now? Even last night, we waited until almost 7:15 before starting our run at night. Why? Well by then temps had dipped to 82. Cool when you consider when I wanted to start running, at around 5:30 it was still 94 degrees. CRIPES!

I am sure when Doug and I come home for the Christmas holidays, the smack of the cold, crisp Colorado air hitting our face, the possibility of a few inches of snow on the ground to welcome  us home, I will rejoice knowing I don't have to drive in it all winter. I won't be bitter, like in years past about how many times we have had to shovel our driveway by then. But for now, I miss 30 degree temps in the morning, and a cool down at night. I miss seeing those gorgeous aspen trees dance and change colors. I miss watching the seasons change.

For the love (?!?!?!) of running

I was always one of the tallest kid in my classes growing up. One of the only girls that routinely got stuck in the back row when class picture time came around because I towered over most of the girls and even some of the guys. So, it stands to reason that because I was tall, I had the build to do one thing well, run.

As I got a bit older, there was a day near and dear to my heart every year, field day. The day where I could show my stuff to everyone, and beat all the shorties with my long runner legs. I routinely came home with ribbons noting me as the winner.

When I got a bit older, my dad, to get more health conscious began running 5K races to push himself into competition, and keep his running up. After one such race I decided I got tired of just being on the sidelines and entered it too with my brother. That first race, a 1K (decidedly small by my running standards now) made me realize how much harder race and road running was, as I watched my brother beat me to the finish. Angry, but enthusiastic about running in a more competitive sense, my desire to continue running was sparked on that day.

In high school, I kept up my love of running by joining cross country my freshman year. I had always thought I was a good runner, I had the tall legs for it. Reality set in that year, when I realized the best runners on the team, the seniors didn't have size on their side, they had form, they had fluidity, they had the desire to want to succeed through training. Something I never had. I quit Cross Country after that year, but kept up with my running through track in the spring. Quicker sprints, but equally as challenging to do training runs, our coach (who was also my basketball coach) cruising by in her car to taunt us if we slacked.

I slacked off for many years after my high school days when it came to running. In college riding my bike or walking to class mattered more, and running, didn't hold a candle to my "adopted" hobby of hanging out with friends and partying. My love of a good run to clear my head was dropped, for so many years.

Last year, in an effort to slim down on many years of supersizing, I took up running again. Forcing myself to do race after race (when training consisted of doing gym time, and actual race running took place outside of a gym. I completed over 20 races last year. A proud accomplishment in my book.

So when we moved, I knew this love of running, this desire to succeed, had to move with me. I had to make time to enjoy and train for this sport. I had to force myself outside of my comfort zone, to befriend my office comrades, who like myself had been running, and running, although not sure for what.

Since May, we have been "training" for a 1/2 marathon that is now, a week and a few days away (YIPES). My legs reflect this training. More times this year, I have ran through knee pains, tight calf muscles, shin splints of epic proportions, blisters in odd places (I seem to have developed one lately on my baby toe, and one underneath another toenail)., and a shoulder injury (which of course was NOT related to running). I tend to vacillate between days I absolutely LOVE getting a run in, and days where I wish I could just go to McDonald's, go home and eat..and veg to do NOTHING. Do I really need to run?

The answer is yes, I do. I do it because deep down, I do love a good run. Regardless of the crazy grimace that might adorn my face (I always look like I am on the verge of tears, or ready to tear someone's head off when I run.) I chalk it up to intense concentration, and a bit of a reaction to slight pain), I run on. I run because for that brief 3 mile, 5 mile, 9 mile jog, I am at one with my music, with my surroundings. I can think about what ever I want to (which is mostly my paranoia having me think about my running form), come up with solutions to something that might be bugging me, or shrug away the intensity of a hard day, or a bad fight with family and friends, and live, just in that moment of that run....for the basic love of the run.