What's wrong with this picture?

Tea: I'm not doing it.

Mike: I'll give you $75 if you do.

Tea: No. What's wrong with you?

Mike: I just like marathons....not doing them watching them.

Tea: You DO realize that $75 is like $3 per mile? There's no amount of money that makes the preceeding 18 weeks of training worth the $75.

Mike (his eyes sparkling with excitement now): C'mon, it's fun!

Tea: Fun for who? No, running 26.2 miles is really not fun. You get to sit in a coffee shop reading the paper.

Mike: Ok, how about $100 for finishing in under 5:00. That's not hard.  It's a THIRD of an Ironman. A THIRD. Not even HALF. It's a little itty bitty piece.


I just look at him and shake my head.

I know we'll have this "discussion" again in a month.

It's like a ratty old sweater

This year, I'm doing nothing and a whole lot all.at.the.same.time.


Races--meh, I did a couple earlier this year...the rest of the year....shhhhh....I don't have much going on.


SURIUOSLY People, I don't.


On the other hand, I'm training like some kind of crazy possessed woman.


or at least that's what Mr. Tea claims.


I, however, didn't notice....because I'm having so much fun.


Now, I've had more than a few friends look at me questioning and then ask questioningly "What are you doing? When is your race?"


And again I have to whisper I'm not doing any.




At which point, they violently shake their heads trying to get their minds wrapped around this concept, and respond "Are you trying to lose weight"


(sigh, apparently, I look like I could drop a few. Nonetheless I respond "No.")


Their heads spin around, they start blinking and stuttering and finally spew out "I-I-I don't understand. Why are you training so hard?"


I know that some of you can relate to this (coughbillcough), but others....well, admit it, you struggle with the concept of exercising, being active, training, (whatever you want to call it) simply for the fun of doing it.....well, it's downright NOT NATURAL.


Afterall, there HAS TO BE SOME REWARD FOR ALL THIS HARD WORK. WHERE'S THE REWARD FOR ALL THE MILES? WHERE'S THE REWARD FOR GETTING UP EARLY.


I understand. 


Maybe this isn't about ME. Maybe this is about YOU.


Afterall, I don't need a REWARD for doing something that I love and enjoy. The act of doing and being able to DO, IS my reward.


That doesn't mean the workouts aren't hard.


That doesn't mean that it's always easy.


It simply means that I love doing it....whether or not there is a medal involved.


Think about it. Think about what a positive impact you could have on your life if you change your thought process from "this is something that I have to do.....to lose weight....to get faster....to do this race"  


TO


"This is something that I want to do because it's fun and challenging and gives me goals and makes me healthy and and...and everything else is secondary."


There is no such thing as failure.


Every day you get up and do something is success. (And yes, even taking a day off requires self-control for some).


Wouldn't you then FIND time to exercise?


Wouldn't you MAKE time to exercise?


Wouldn't the pressure of having to do something, because you HAVE to....disappear?


You just go out and have fun.


You DESERVE it.

Where worlds collide

Jman and Googs have been in sports their entire lives.

They started baseball at the age where kids are hitting off a tee, and when you tell them to run home....they run to their mom.

The started basketball before they could tie their shoes.

They've played hockey and did some swimming.

Shortly after they both learned to ride their bikes, I took them on bike rides. At very young ages, we were going on up to 10 mile bike rides, stopping to play at the park or buy icees.

They've even run races. The races they don't want to run; well, they never hesitate to come out and cheer me on. 

Then came football.

Sometimes it was hard to watch as Googs would sprint across the field (linebacker) and de-cleat some guy 80lbs heavier. Or when he played Center, I'd hold my breath as the refs would pull the guys off the pile, only to see Googs be at the bottom of the pile.

When Jman started playing, coaches started realizing very quickly that he had speed. "Good", I thought to myself, "No more bottom of the piles. He just has to outrun EVERYONE."

As Jman would run 50-60-70-80 yard touchdowns, I was the mom running downfield with him step for step....often to many bewildering looks. 

Through all those years, Mike coached the boys. I cheered and did the mom stuff--bringing water enough for a team, cleaning cuts, wrapping limbs and.....the hard stuff......

trying to decide when an injury was ok to play with and when they needed to back off. As a mom with a Masters degree in Exercise Science.....I guess they were lucky and not so lucky.

For years, my role was somewhere between Protection and Encouragement. When they were tired, I was talking to them on the sidelines saying things like "This is where you dig deep. Sports don't build character. They reveal it. Show everyone here what kind of character you have." 

If there was a sports cliche, I used it.

Then, they got older. Last year during a playoff basketball game, Jman got hurt. I pulled him to the sidelines. We stretched and massaged. I sat there trying to decide what to do. We sat in silence. Finally, I turned to him and said, "Since you've been out of the game, the other team has outscored us 10-0. I will never tell you to play injured. Your team needs you like never before. Sometimes, you have to dig deep and......well....you need to HTFU."

Jman turned and looked at me with shock and a smile and said, "Did you just tell me to HTFU?"

"um. Yea."

He was quiet for a moment. Then, signaled to Coach that he was ready to go back in.

They won the game.

Sports has always been a part of our lives, so it's no surprise that sports would be played in high school.

Basketball, baseball.....and well, sigh.....football.

Contrary to what everyone thinks, I love football. I'm a die hard Broncos fan and bleed orange and blue. I can talk the talk and draw up plays that even shock Mr. Tea and the boys. 

But Jman is going to high school now. 

That means a hand-off.

There's a new sheriff in town, and he's the high school football coach.

No more cleaning cuts. No more wrapping cleats. No more running down the side lines at full speed. I can cheer, but will he even hear me way up in the stands?

So when I dropped him off for his last day of middle school. I felt the tears welling up. Jman looked at me and said, "Are you going to cry?"

"Probably but I'll wait until you leave the car."

As he turned to leave the car, he smiled at me and said, "You just need to HTFU."

Ohhhh, the love that hurts so good

This weekend was jam packed full of BASEBALL, BASEBALL & more BASEBALL.

A two-day tournament that started early on both Saturday & Sunday required an even earlier start because of the long drive.

With 3 games today and a 10 mile run on my schedule, I packed my running gear and thought "5 before the start of the first game. 5 more before the afternoon game." If things got crazy, well, I'll do 5--2 mile runs. Whatever I have to do to get'er done.

At the buttcrack of dawn, we're packing up to head to the game.

We arrive at the field. Jman unpacks his gear, Mr. Tea heads to the bench & I grab my water, garmin....and well just for the heck of it, I'll bring my watch. Yes, it's overkill; I already have my garmin.

As I start running, I feel particularly.....
hmmmm what's the right word?

AWESOME

I don't know why. My love-hate relationship with running is like a reality show. We send each other notes on the sly talking about how great our time will be together once we can sneak away. Yet, it never fails that we're cursing day each other was born at the end of a speed day or long run.

Yet, as soon as I start running. I feel different. Yes, there are hills.  Not like where I live, but they're hills all the same.

Just as I hit a half mile, my garmin dies. Now, I count on my garmin for times like this...I've been known to get lost. Only to flip the switch on the garmin to allow me to track backwards.

The garmin is 8 years old. Mr. Tea bought it for me to replace my even older one. We've had some good runs me and the garmin. I guess, technology doesn't last forever. I've worn out my welcome at the Garmin support desk, even gotten the *restraining* order via certified mail (WHATEVA).

So, when the garmin died. I remembered back to so many years of wonderful runs. I  look at the garmin with it's blank screen....hold my fists up to the air and scream: ARE YOU F*CKING KIDDING ME? YOU HAVE TO DIE NOW YOU LOUSY PIECE OF SH!T?!

Give or take a few expletives, I realized that in some strange twist of fate that I had my watch with me. The sky opened up and the angels came out singing "You can still run 30 out and 30 back and not worry about distance sweetie".

But I don't know WHERE I'M GOING! There are GOATS in the street up ahead. GOATS!

I stand in the middle of the street....yes the middle....what's gonna happen? I'm gonna get run over by a goat?  I look west: ominous.  I look east: definitely my better option.

I squint ahead. I see a dot moving. By george! It's a MAN! And he's RUNNING! Follow that LOCAL!

I see him off in the distance. As previously mentioned, I feel

AWESOME

I have no idea how fast I'm running, but I know it is considerably faster than my normal long run pace. But my heartrate...make that PERCEIVED HEARTRATE thanks to that LOUSY PIECE OF SH!T DYING....is low.

I follow the local. He weaves in and out of country roads and then turns into suburbia.  I'm slowly catching up to him when I look down at my watch and realize, time's up, time to head back to catch the game.

Of course, that's when I realize that I was so focused on the Man, that I didn't pay attention to how I ended up where I am.

I quickly send a txt msg to Mr. Tea saying "GREAT RUN! On my way back"

No need to worry the poor man.

I look North.....that looks familiar....then South....that looks familiar.

I scratch my head, bite the inside of my cheek. Just then an old light blue Ford pick up truck pulls up. An old man about 130 years old in a red baseball cap rolls down his window and says something that sounds like, "Wharya goan? Ye luk lohst."

I squint at him a moment while my brain attempts to translate this new language. Ah yes, got it. My brain sends down the message: "Young lady. You seemed troubled. Might I assist you in your wanderings?"

"Yes!" I go over to his window and the stench of old tabaccy climbs up my nostrils "I'm looking for Pioneer Park"

"Yerkinder fer from 'neer. yer ned to get yerself t'oldhaer road"

"Toddler Road?" I look at him questioningly.
"TODE lahk frog. TODEHARK road"

Who the hell names a street TOADHAWK?" Aren't those things mutually exclusive? I mean, on the food chain their paths don't even cross.

I step away from the truck, thank the old man.

Good, I think to myself, I just need to get to TODDLER F*CKING ROAD and I would prefer avoiding any type of Deliverance type people while I'm doing it.

Eventually, well 15 minutes later I find myself face to face with the herd of goats, and I know I'm on the right path. Things in the road are starting to look familiar: I remember that beer can, that old tire, the red thong. I'm on my way back.

Just then, I hear a loud crack that seemed to be coming from the trees. I peer through the trees to see a baseball game just starting and a player running to first.

I.made.it.

Let's PLAY BALL!!

I'm not Flabby. I'm just Flat.

NOOOOOO!!!! She screamed at me trying to lurch backward and throwing my balance off as we slowly climbed the stairs.

Yes, you need to get outside! I grunted as I grabbed her around the neck and lifted her front end up, avoiding the drag up the stairs.

It's too bright! The sun hurts my eyes. Let me just stay in the basement. We can watch movies. You like watching movies. She started crying.

I hate when she does that to me. All winter we watch movies together, never worrying about the weather outside or what we need to wear.

Finally, we get to the stop of the stairs. Gasping I sit her in the corner staring at her. "We have to do it. You LIKE to do it. You just haven't been outside in 7 months. I bet all your friends are out there. "

No one else has to go outside.Besides, I'm SO outa shape. I'm flabby. Look I need to be cleaned.

I don't care, and I don't want to hear it anymore. We're going no matter what.

I grabbed my garmin edge and snapped it into place.

OWWWW! She howled. Why'd you go and do that?

Because I know how you are. You won't give any effort unless you have a friendly reminder to pick up the pace.

I grabbed the water bottle. She's just being ridiculous, I thought to myself. It's just the first ride of the year. She's acting like I'm making her do a century.

I slammed the water bottle into the holder. Water splashed up all over me.

NOW look what you did! I'm all wet!

For goodness sakes, please shut up! You'll dry the minute we head out.

pfffffffft. pffffffft.

Did you just let the air out of your tires?

No....must have been that burrito I ate last night.

I gently squueze the front tire.  Flat.  I feel the back tire. Flat. Ugh. Wait right here.

I pumped up both tires and turn and look at her. See? You aren't flabby. You just needed air in your tires.

What if I don't remember where to go or how to turn or climb or go fast or deal with traffic.

Now you're just being silly. I responded. You can't forget. It's just like riding a......

MEMORIAL DAY SALES EVENT!

30% off your favorite anti-aging products!

Get your best bikini-bod THIS summer with 40% off all weight loss products!

....the email screamed at me.

Anti-wrinkle formulas--GUARANTEED to eliminate those crow's feet!

Make your skin GLOW!

Take this magic pill and have the flat tummy you've always dreamed of!

Every morning, I wake up to these types of email messages.

I shake my head and hit the DELETE button.

For a few hundred bucks a month, I can have glowing wrinkle free skin, eliminate cellulite, and have my best bikini-bod ever.

All I have to do is "rub the lotion on it's skin".

I got'cher anti-aging kit right here....

You want bright skin?  How about eating fruits and veggies...

You want to less sluggish? How about drinking water instead of soda of any kind...

You want to eliminate the afternoon energy crashes? How about eating meals throughout the day.

You want to shed a few pounds? How about eliminating sugar....

You want to feel more energetic? How about busting your ass with some kind, ANY kind of physical activity....EVERY DAY.

Thank you very much, but I have my own anti-aging program.

And all it costs is my own blood sweat & tears.

Success is in the eye of the beholder

On Tuesday, Helen and I swam together.

During our swim, we started talking about running. Then, out of nowhere, she rips off her goggles, shakes her finger at me and says, "I stopped by that hill you told me to run"

Me, taking a step backward thinking she's about to hit me.

Helen: Yes, I did. You know what I think? I think you're crazy. That hill is huge.

Me: Yes, it's big. But you don't have to run the whole hill. Start at the bottom, run a bit, turn around and walk down. Do it over and over.

Helen: My trainer even said to me, "She wants you to the run THAT hill???"

Me: I know it's big. But you of all people know that you don't know what you can accomplish until you try. I told you that I'd love to run it with you. Do you want me to go?

Helen: Not the first time, let me just go do it the first time by myself.

Me: Ok. Bits and pieces, Helen. Look at your swim. Last week, you swam 9 laps. Today, you did 16.

******
Two days later, my phone rings. I know the number. It's Helen.



"Tea, it's HELEN"



I DID IT!
I ran the hill! I didn't stop! I made it all the way to the top. I did it! I'm so happy. Next time I run it, I want you to go with me.


A smile so big stretched across my face. I yelled out and starting jumping all over the house. I might have even thrown in the cabbage patch dance.

When we both calmed down, I said "You are amazing. Simply.Amazing." I sat there with the phone dangling in my hand, speechless.

Success tends to do that to me. Sometimes the feelings are so overwhelming, I'll break down. Sometimes it is the adventure that stuns me into silence.

As I head out on my run, I thought about Helen. Here is a woman who is quite old by many people's standards who was in a relationship where her husband took care of everything until he passed away.  She never considered running or swimming or biking or setting goals for herself.

Then one day, she drove past the gym and thought, "why couldn't I do that?"

And she did.