Boosting the Turtle

**


Living on a lake, I'm used to the other critters that share my living space - such as deer, skunk, possum, raccoons, fox - and the occasional snake. (And let me interject here by saying that it's the latter that really give me the heebie jeebies - and I always have one eyeball on the ground as I run, looking for ANYTHING that could be slithering or slathering, as the last thing I want is a Close Encounter of the Serpent Kind. EEP.)

This morning, I was plodding along on my daily run, when I saw a car up ahead suddenly stop in the middle of the road.

Curious, I watched as the driver got out, walked up to the front of his car, and then very carefully, picked up a turtle…and then moved the four-legged creature over to the side of the road, where he very gingerly laid him back down.

By now, I had ran up along side this very valiant rescue operation, and as the driver was turning to get back in his car, I couldn't help but have some fun, so I said, "Hey - why'd you do that? He was my pacer."

The driver stared at me blankly for a moment, and then quickly hopped in his car and took off.

He's obviously not a runner.

Bwahahahahahahahahahahaha.

Anyway.

As I resumed my run, I got to thinking about that turtle…moving along, albeit very slowly, heading for some unknown (to us, anyway) destination. And how he suddenly got a boost by a driver who was concerned for his welfare and wanted to move him out of harm's way.

How often when I'm struggling - either as I run down a lonely lake road, albeit very slowly - or as I go through my day-to-day life - do I wish that some God-like hand will come down out of the sky and give me a "boost" to my destination…or at least, move me out of harm's way…?

It doesn't happen, and I'm left to plod along…one foot in front of the other…but eventually, when I finally DO reach the end of my destination - what a sweet, sweet journey it was….

Peace.

*Image from HERE

Dealing with my Debbie Downer

One of the challenges of being a "newbie" runner is learning to develop mental strength…or basically, dealing with that inner voice that yammers on and on about how I must be crazy for even THINKING of running a half marathon.

I have two inner voices that I deal with…and let me say, just by typing that, I'm feeling like you think that I really MUST be crazy - but not because I'm running, but because I have voices in my head.

I promise I'm not crazy.

Really.

Anyway.

I like to call the first voice "Motivational Mary" - who every so often pops up in my head as I'm running, with quotes and inspirational sayings that keep me going, like, "You are AWESOME!" and "You can DO it!" and "Think of how you're going to look in a swim suit!" and stuff like that. Motivational Mary is full of unicorns and puppies and rainbows, and I love her.

However…the other voice, aka "Debbie Downer", seems to be more prevalent…and THAT is the voice that I need to squelch. Debbie Downer is that voice that focuses on the negative, rather than the positive, and by working on my mental toughness, I hope to kill. Debbie Downer says things like, "You're too old. You're too flabby. You can't run. You're nuts." Gah.

This morning, unfortunately, there was more Debbie Downer than Motivational Mary…

It doesn't help that I have to wake up at 6:00 A.M. to run, due to the summer heat. I am NOT a morning person, so Debbie Downer was out in full force immediately.

"Do you REALLY want to do this at 6:00 A.M.???" she began, as I was rolling out of bed. "Besides…it's going to rain. I think you should stay in bed."

As tempting as that was, I realized that Hubby was already out of bed - and out for HIS run - and being the competitive person that I am, there was NO WAY IN HELL that I was going to let Hubby get a run ahead of me. Yeah, cuz I love him like that.

As I was heading out the front door, I met Hubby as he came back from his run, and he says, "You should have ran with me this morning. There was a beautiful rainbow, and you've missed it."

Gah.

So, I head out the door, and Mother Nature at that time could not make her mind up on whether she wanted it to rain - or not. It was hot. It was humid. It was soupy. It was yucky. It was definitely NOT prime time running conditions. Bleh.

Debbie Downer complains, saying, "Soup??? You should be at home EATING soup on a morning like this…not RUNNING in it."

Motivational Mary says, "There's no lightning. There's no tornados. You can DO this. Move it."

And so I do.

I head out, and within a minute, raindrops are falling on my head, which sends Debbie Downer into a tailspin.

"OH MY GAWD, YOU'RE GETTING WET!!!!! YOU'RE GOING TO MELT!!!!!"

I quickly assessed all body parts for any signs of melting, and not seeing any flesh falling off my body, I ran on. This proved that contrary to what my kids may think sometimes, I am NOT the Wicked Witch of the West, and Motivational Mary whispers that it will be fun to dispel that myth with them later.

After about two miles, my lungs were struggling a bit, and Debbie Downer immediately picked up on this.

"You should turn around right now. YOU'RE GOING TO DIE."

Motivational Mary immediately chimed in with a calming, "No, you're not. No one dies running 3 miles."

I'm pretty sure that that is technically not true, but it was good enough for me to keep running.

The run progressed with a few more complaints and moans from Debbie Downer, but fortunately, Motivational Mary kept me on course and squelched any thoughts of quitting.

I've noticed that the more I run, the more that Motivational Mary steps up to the forefront, and the more that Debbie Downer takes a back seat. I think this is true with any "good" habit we start…it takes awhile for the habit to take hold, and we often have to silence those negative thoughts that want to bring us down.

When I made my way back to the house, I was feeling pretty good. I was wet. I was winded. I was tired.

But I DID it.

Peace.

Why Couldn't I Have Been Born in Kenya??!!

After fifteen years of marriage, Hubby and I have come to accept the fact that there are certain things that we do well together, as a couple…and there are certain things that are best done alone.

As in running.

Hubby is a Hare. In other words, he runs fast.

I hate him.

He breezes through a mile in 8 minutes…and then has the audacity to not even break a sweat or be winded.

Me, on the other hand…I am a Tortoise. I run slow.

As in very, very, very, very slow.

In fact, I'm not even sure what I do can be considered "running"…I think "plodding" might be more descriptive.

And I sweat. Geesh, do I sweat…as in dripping, soaking, wring my bra out, sweat.

And winded?? Yuppers. I do more huffing and puffing than the Big Bad Wolf, and that's just from putting my spandex shorts and running bra on.

Gah.


In my defense, I'm a "beginner runner" - as in, I just kinda' started…sorta. I mean, I would run here and there over the last few years, but only when I felt either seriously inspired or seriously fat. My motivation was seriously lacking, and although everything else was very "serious" - I didn't take my running seriously.

That changed this year, when I uncharacteristically ran plodded particularly well in a 4-mile run for charity in April…feeling particularly fast and fearless...and at the finish line, I ran into some girlfriends, and one of them said, "Hey, we should run a Half Marathon this year", and I, experiencing an obvious lack of oxygen to the brain, which made me seriously stupid, and also obviously experiencing a "runner's high", which should totally excuse you from making any life-changing commitments or signing any contracts, because you're obviously not in your right mind, said, "YES! That sounds great!!! Let's DO IT!!!" and when my brain settled back to normal later, and the "runner's high" wore off, left me thinking, "What the HELL did I just commit myself to???!!!"

Anyway. Here I am. Training for an upcoming half-marathon in October.

WHEN I'VE NEVER RAN MORE THAN 4 MILES AT ONE TIME IN MY LIFE, LIKE EVER.


So…Hubby has decided to join me in this endeavor, which is fine, but we've agreed that we will NOT TRAIN TOGETHER.

Ever.

Because, I basically hate him that he can run like a Kenyan and make it look effortless, while I pretty much suck a duck and die with every step.


So, this morning, our Torture Training Plan called for us to run six miles.

Bwahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha Okay, breathe Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha

Six miles. Snort.

I dreaded it. Which, according to all the Running Literature, you're not supposed to do. If you dread something, you're less inclined to do it. So I TRIED to not dread it, but trying not to dread something is like trying to convince yourself that spiders and snakes make good house pets, and yeah, ummmm, that's not happening.

So I got up early this morning in a futile attempt to beat the summer heat and humidity, struggled into my running gear and shoes, pointed out the direction that I would be running to Hubby, so that he could run in the OPPOSITE direction, thank you very much, and I took off.

And I survived.

I did it.

I even ran a faster pace than I was expecting, which tickled me to no end…not that I'm anywhere NEAR Hubby's Kenyan-like pace, but hey…a small victory is still a victory.

The Torture Plan calls for a run of SEVEN miles next weekend, so yeah. I'm already dreading it. Although I'll really, really, really try not to all week.

I'll pretend that running seven miles is like eating chocolate while frolicking with a puppy in a field of wildflowers with unicorns….

Gah.

This 'n That Thursday

Some ramblings….



*I love flowers. I especially love THESE flowers that Hubby gave me for my birthday. Aren't the colors just out of this world? If I wanted to be grumpy…which I don't, by the way…but if I DID…how could ANYONE be grumpy with flowers like these in your kitchen??!!



*When I was 16 years old, it took me not once, not twice - but THREE attempts to pass my Driver's License test. (Apparently, I "rolled" through a stop sign on my first try, and "didn't yield" on a left turn on my second try. I protested these infractions, but to no avail. Oh well.)

It was deja vu here in Florida, when it took not once, not twice, but THREE attempts to get our automobiles licensed recently. The first time, we didn't have the original titles with us, and the second attempt, we failed to bring a lien release for one of the cars. GAH. There's nothing I love better than making multiple trips up to the DMV office in Southwest Florida. Imagine our excitement when we finally, FINALLY, got the cars registered. For the silver Mazda, we chose a pretty blue & silver plate with a ferocious shark:



For the Mustang, we chose a colorful "Endless Summer" design with a surfer dude, as we thought that befitting the spirit of our little convertible:



Yay, us! The Florida DMV offices may be a pain in the butt, but they make up for it by offering such pretty choices for our license plates!



*Who knew that Florida basically gets as hot as the surface of the sun in the summer?? I've been attempting to keep up my half-marathon training by running outside, but when you combine the Floridian heat with the ungodly humidity, it's become a suicide mission every time I lace up. Not to mention, the mosquitoes rub their antennae together in glee when they see me coming, as apparently my blood must be better than chocolate to the little bloodsuckers. Gah.

Not to mention - there are cougars and bears and snakes running amok in Southwestern Florida, so I took this photo before a recent run so that Hubby could use it for a "Missing" poster in case I was attacked and dragged off into the swamps by a wild animal. Hey. You never know.



*When Hubby heard me whine complain moan calmly discuss my running problem, he kindly went out and purchased a treadmill for me, in honor of my birthday. To say I am now a happy girl is an understatement - as I can run in the bliss of air-conditioning, as I laugh at the disappointed mosquitoes.


*Because we were "kid-less" on this mini-vacation, Hubby and I indulged in some serious fine dining in the evenings…embarking on some culinary adventures that stretched our taste buds, besides stretching our waistlines:


The famous "Swedge Salad" at the Blue Coyote Supper Club...A fresh crisp wedge of iceberg lettuce topped with house-made bleu cheese, diced tomato and applewood smoked bacon. Nom. Nom. Nom.



Some sort of delicious dessert Hubby devoured at the Kenwood Lane Grille…it was poisoned with gluten, so I couldn't eat it. Drat. Drat. Drat.



The loaded chips at CRaVE restaurant…deliciously messy….



The Flourless Chocolate Cake at the Kenwood Lane Grille…so good, I got it TWICE this week. And I didn't share. So there.


*While dining out, it's nice to have a son back home in Kansas City who can answer - via text - all questions we have regarding diets and such. I'm not sure how Hubby and I got into a debate on whether cavemen ate potatoes and carrots - the two glasses of wine I'd had probably contributed a little to that - but it soon became very important for us to find out, and so we turned to Brainy Brad:



So to those who think our dinner conversation may be boring…well…um…okay, never mind. Moving on.


*Daughter, who is finishing up her third week in her college summer class (even though she's only 14 - gah!), decided that it was imperative for me to know about an anime convention coming in Kansas City this summer. Aren't children wonderful? I can learn about cavemen & potatoes from one kid, and anime from another, all via text:




Gotta love em.

Peace.

My Most Idiotic Act Ever

You've seen them…those people that are so stupid, so idiotic, caught doing something that is even BEYOND moronic, usually not ending well….

Often times, these stories make their way to the news, usually because the person was SO dumb, SO idiotic - that their act of stupidity resulted (unfortunately) in their death - or at the minimum, injuries. And we are left shaking our heads, wondering, "How could they have been so stupid???!!" And we mentally pat ourselves on our backs, thinking to ourselves, "Thank God that I'M not that stupid…I would NEVER do something so dumb."

Well.

True confession.

I was that stupid idiot last week.

And looking back, I'm left shaking my head, wondering, "How could I have been so STUPID??!! I KNOW better!!!"

Let's back up.

Several days ago, I made a brief solo trip to Orlando, Florida - with the intention of spending a few days at the always-magical (and always-crowded) Walt Disney World. Having a Florida-resident annual pass, I always justify my trips to the House of the Mouse as "saving money" (????), although having seen my credit card statement after these sojourns, I'm not sure how that's true…but it sounds good, right?

So…my first day, I arrive at one of the theme parks at around noon...and due to my somewhat late arrival (any time after 9:00 am is considered "late" in Theme Park World), I'm directed to park my car in Row 46 of the parking lot. Which means I'm 46 rows away from the front entrance…yeah. Basically, the equivalent of a 10k - or six miles. I'm facing a long hike through the sea of cars in order to reach the gates.

Joy.

If my long trek wasn't daunting enough, the skies have now opened, and there is a TORRENTIAL rainstorm raging, where cats, dogs, - heck, even small children - are falling from the skies. It's raining so hard, and so heavy - that I can't see more than 10" in front of my face.

I'm prepared, though.

A little bit of rain isn't going to keep me from getting my adrenaline rush from a roller coaster - so, donning a poncho, I quickly hop out of my car and began trekking the 150 miles towards the front entrance.

And then it happened.

A quick flash - and then a crack of thunder so LOUD, that I about did a number in my shorts.

Oh, joy. Lightning. I hate lightning. I especially hate lightning in Florida, the Lightning Capital of the World.

I kept walking, though.

And it happened again.

Closer this time.

In fact, the lightning was SOOOO close, that I looked around to see if anyone else was as concerned about this as I was.

And that's when I realized the very scary, and very sobering, fact that I WAS THE ONLY PERSON IN THE PARKING LOT.

Yup. I was truly solo.

Everyone arriving after me was staying safely huddled in their cars for shelter…and all parking lot attendants had hopped on a fast-moving golf cart and had quickly evacuated the parking lot.

I WAS THE ONLY IDIOT BY MYSELF IN A RAGING LIGHTNING STORM DIRECTLY OVERHEAD…and I was now, unequivocally, the tallest object in the parking lot.

Oh crap.

I'm freaked out now. I totally feel like one of those poor targets in a video game, with the laser beam of death pointed right at them. Part of my brain starts thinking, "Will I feel tingly before I'm struck? Will my hair stand on end? Will I see a green flash?" And then the other part of my brain starts thinking, "You IDIOT. You need to get out of this. NOW!!!!"

So…which way to go? Do I go back to my car? Or do I trudge ahead to the park entrance, hoping to find shelter? I was at the point in my hike that I was literally half-way between my car and the gates - so either choice, I was basically screwed.

Deciding to make a run to the gates, every few seconds a tremendous flash, followed by a crashing BOOM, had me jumping and holding my breath and sending up quick prayers, saying, "Oh, please, oh please, don't let me get hit!!!!"

Fortunately, I made it.

However, that evening, I discovered that a hotel - less than 1/2 mile from where I was making my run for it - was struck by lightning during this storm, resulting in loss of electricity and an evacuation of the guests.

I was truly a stupid idiot - for not hunkering down in my car and waiting for the storm to pass.

Ironically, today begins Lightning Awareness Week…and already, seven people have been killed this year by lightning in the U.S. I was fortunate that I wasn't the eighth - all because I was anxious to see a Mouse.

Gah.

Anyway. Be safe, peeps. Take lightning serious. Know what to do if caught outdoors - and don't be an idiot, like yours truly.

Peace.