The Bitter-Sweet Routine

So first, an update -
The kids no longer take a nap.
It was a looming unavoidable predicament, but I was hoping praying to extend the nap for as long as possible, preferably until kindergarten.   Unfortunately, I cannot force someone to take a nap.  Trust me, I tried. I can tell them to take a nap, or yell at them to take a nap, or beg them to take a nap - but ultimately, that is as far as my power takes me.

The extended day + incessant  bickering (+ overtired kids x 2) does not equal a pleasant afternoon.  On any given day, sometime around 3:30pm, Hayden is running around the house in tears, waving his Thomas the Train above his head.  A naked Brenna chases him, taunting, "my train!  my train!"  She catches him by the shirt and his shirt collar chokes him.  He falls to the ground and Brenna grabs the train.  "My train!" she shrieks one last time for emphasis before she runs away.  Hayden gets up and chases her while crying, "Mommy, Mommy!" He grabs her to the ground and Brenna starts crying, "Mommy! Mommy!"

I intervene and I take the train. Hayden will ask me to dry his eyes and blow his nose.  Brenna will ask for a kiss and a hug.  After I oblige, I can breathe a few breaths before Hayden starts playing with a dinosaur and Brenna starts chanting, "my dinosaur!  my dinosaur!"

After that, it's usually a Lightening McQueen car, a book, a ball, a random toy that was found under the couch, a water cup, an identical water cup, and then the lid to the third identical water cup.

Here they are fighting over a cheap, unopened loaf of sale-bread from the grocery store:

If I am buying white bread, it means I was desperately trying to get out of the store before Round 3.

The new routine, derived from my lovely mother, was to separate the kids two nights each week.  Not only to give me a break, but them a break as well.  You know the saying, Too Much of a Good Thing........

Each kid has a designated night at grandma's house.  She honks her horn at 4pm, usually right before the fight over the second water cup.  I rush out a crying kid and a plastic bag of clean clothing.

And then its over.  Completely over.
There is no screaming, yelling or crying.
Just one silent child with a dry tear on their cheek.
And I simply say, "So what do you want to do?"

Activities with just one kid is like training for a 5k instead of a marathon.  There is no stopping us - we can do anything!  The world is our playground and we don't even need a double cart.

Brenna usually rejects all my fun offerings (shopping, the park, taking a walk, etc).  But she is always satisfied with the suggestion of eating.

Hayden is more open-minded but his activity of choice is always the park.  His night is also running club night.

I know I usually don't run in the evenings, but I've made an exception to meet my best running friend.  Her name is Michelle.  I bring David and Hayden:

And she brings her husband and son.   

It seemed sad to have half the stroller empty.  That is what makes this new routine bitter-sweet....even though the world sometimes seems to be meant for only one kid, everything in our life is meant for two.  Two toddler beds, two little tooth brushes, two sets of dinner plates, two car seats in the car............

And of course, the kids miss each other.
And of course, I miss my missing kid.

But as they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder - and it's only a few hours a week.

Plus, we manage to find ways to fill in the gaps.

Cactus Cha Cha Race Report

I thought it would be fun to trail race two weeks in a row - and I was hoping I could win two weeks in a row as well.

When I got to the race, I was immediately disappointed when I realized that I accidentally grabbed my road racing show (Saucony Kinvara) instead of my trail racing shoe (Brooks Pure Grit).  They are both blue and equally wonderful shoes, but the Brooks have tread so that you slide less.  And fall less.

I was 90-minutes from home so there was nothing I could do except dwell on it.

But, as soon as we started running, I forgot about my shoes.  I love trail running and I love racing so I was instantly in bliss.  I was also the leading lady.  This start, however, was not slow like last week.  I was mildly concerned that I started off too fast.  But I think its best to start off too fast and get a good position rather than start off slow and be stuck behind people.  The trails were technical, rocky and narrow...in other words, best suited for single-file.  I was surprised when a girl effortless pranced past me, probably close to Mile 1.

I let her pass and then focused on keeping the distance between us short and steady. Around Mile 2, we encountered a headwind that accompanied a gradual uphill.  Uphills are my strength and I found myself in ideal positioning - right behind her. This was perfect because 1) I could watch her footwork, 2) I could let her pace me, and 3) There is much less pressure being the person  behind.

I wanted to be sneaky so I tried real hard not to breathe heavy but my nose was running.  I did some snot-rockets and I am pretty sure she heard them.  And probably grossed out.

At Mile 3, she let me pass.  I said, "Good job," and waited for a few seconds in case she changed her mind. I really didn't want to pass her.  I could see this was going to get awkward if I did not pass, so I did.  And, I was not sure what to do.  Should I run fast? Should I run the same pace?

I suspected that she had a plan - something amazing like 5-minute miles towards the end.  My plan is always the same no matter the race - and that is just to run like a fool.

Mile 4 had a massive hill and Mile 5 had the downhill.  Despite my lack of proper footwear, I let my legs just go.  This is key when trail racing, you have to trust your feet and your instincts.  Aside from a couple expected fumbles, my legs did me well.  Miles  6-7 were my two fastest miles (7:00 each) of rolling hills.  I was tired but slowing down was not an option because I was sure the other girl was running a 5-minute mile right behind me.  Also, slowing down isn't always easier because you lose momentum.  It just sounds easier.

I finished the race (7.06 miles) in exactly 51 minutes - and unlike last week, I only had a 1-minute cushion to my win.  I also got better awards - a hand crafted trophy and $120 for new running shoes!

My kids have been missing ever since my return nearly three hours ago.  I mean, I know they are with my mother, I just don't know their location or estimated time of return.  There naptime was 10 minutes ago.

But I am not complaining because I had time to write this race report without having anyone bring me a booger or bang on my keyboard. Nor did I need to break up any wrestling matches, clean up spilled milk, or wipe any butts.  Three year olds are a lot of work and I am admittedly going crazy.

But we these unexpected moments where  they are both happy, and amazing, and I feel like everything is the way it's supposed to be.   

The problem is that moments end.  

But, at least sometimes I save them.

Xterra Estrella Race Report and Then Some

There have been blog postings that I've wanted to posted but it is getting exceedingly hard finding the time to write.  The most reasonable time is after the kids go to bed - but I think I have been honest about my questionable taste of television and my continued devotion to certain shows - so that hour before bed that most would perceive as "free time" is actually very busy.

I have not been doing any training but managed to pull out a win at the first Xterra trail race of the season yesterday.  Unlike road running, trail running isn't so much about speed as it is about skill.  It's perhaps more like cycling in that cardiovascular ability only accounts for half the sport - the other half is experience and technique.  There were quite a few falls yesterday, including the men's winner who fell twice.  It's part of the sport, since there are lots of loose rocks to slip on.  Perhaps the biggest mistake though is not lifting the feet enough because there is always one rock, and usually its a small rock, that is sticking up a little higher than the rest.

I knew within the first minute of the race that I was going to win  because it was such a slow start.  But I didn't know that I was going to win by 4 minutes!  Only 3 men beat me out of around 140 participants.  I won a cup.  This is my 4th Xterra beer mug.

After a trail race, I always think, "Trail running is so much fun!  Why do I bother road running?"  But, if given the opportunity, I always opt to trail run.  Sometimes though there is just not enough to drive to the trails.  Which brings me back to my original complaint - there is not enough time in a day.

At least the weather is cooling - my life changes drastically in the fall when I can go outside past 9am.  Not only can I start trail running again, I can start running with my kids again.

Although the definition of "running" is changing as they get older - 5 mile runs are now 2 mile runs.  Our 8 min/mile pace is now almost a 9 min/mile pace.  Also, I no longer get to pick the route.  

For example, on Saturday.  I chose to run to a garage sale.

Admittedly, it was a sub-par sale, but it could have been the grandest garage sale and Hayden would have still demanded to go see the cow.  And we did go see the cow.

But then he wanted to go see a goat.

And a pig.

And a sheep.

He was equally unsatisfied the weekend prior when I ran us to Walgreens.  I don't think he realized that the bags that surrounded us were filled with candy.

We didn't buy any candy though.

We bought a bloody foot that was on clearance!  And I swear Brenna has on shorts.

MoonValley Grasshopper Bridge 5K, Then and Now

I ran this race two years ago pushing my jogging stroller.

I was excited to look back in the blog so I could do a then-and-now comparison, but found myself disappointed when I realized that this blog was not yet created two years ago.  Is time really going by that quickly?  Life before the blog seems like a few months ago.

I went on a hunt for pictures.  I could not find any.  Did we not take any pictures??
I went on a hunt for pictures taken during the month of September in the year 2010. I could not find any.  Did we not take any pictures for an entire month???

This is why I must blog.
Even if I have nothing positive to say, or simply nothing to say, this blog must forever remain in existence in order for our past to remain in existence. Without a photograph or written proof, all you have is a fading memory that begs the question - Is that really what happened?

Curious as to why we took no photos of September 2010, I went on a mission to learn why.  I opened up computer folders and scoured Photobucket and Picasa photos.   I did remember that I actually did blog back then - it was a riveting blog called, Babies Eat Food, that chronicled the early exploration of their palette.

On Sept.7th, Hayden tried and disliked roasted eggplant:


On Sept. 21st, the babies ate meatballs with rotini pasta for dinner and enjoyed it:


The blog then takes a hiatus but I discovered more after remembering I had a YouTube account.  On Sept. 23rd, the babies played hide-and-go-seek.  This was two days before the race:

I have public records of conversations at an online community I frequented at the time (hi guys) and I made this comment at 10am, the morning of the race.  This must have been during their morning nap. Back then, the babies took two naps.  As of now, I need to beg and pray in order to make them take one.

I placed 3rd in my age group - but back then, I never stayed for awards.  I never cooled-down, nor stayed to mingle.

This year, kids at home, I placed 3rd overall.  I did cool down.  And I did stay to mingle.

As much as I loved racing with my babies, somethings are just more fun on your own.  I spend every waking minute tending to my kids - between feeding these two hungry beasts and making sure they stay alive, there is not much downtime in my day.  It is nice to do something for myself and not have to think of anyone but myself.  Selfish? Yes.  But that is the nature of the sport.  Aside from maybe some charities, people race for one person.  No one saves the world by getting a PR.

And a PR was not my goal - I haven't ran a sub-6 pace for not even a minute since August.  My goal was just to have fun.  And, pick up my summer series overall award.

I didn't look at my watch the entire race but I had to set to auto-lap every mile.
-Mile 1 was easy.  I wasn't even breathing heavy.  5:58.
-Mile 2 started getting hard. 5:56.
-Mile 3 was hard.  I hate running in grass.  6:10.
-.15 to finish: 54 seconds.
Garmin final time:

Their final time:  19:05.










And, I did take pictures this time.

It was a bit of redemption after the debacle of a run last weekend.  I can run. I just need to figure out how to run farther, and how to do it after swimming and biking, while fueling, and in the heat, with no socks and without getting blisters and drinking from water stations without stopping.  I can do that!

Nathan's Triathlon Race Report

We may as well just call this #2 and copy and paste this entry: Last years race report.

It was nearly an identical performance - which is not what I intended, considering I have spent all year practicing shorter races.  and swimming.

The swim went okay.  My ankle did not hurt although it did stiffen towards the end.
I think I did a good job sighting, the buoy was always where I expected it to be.  I bi-lateral breathed as necessary.  I was hoping to draft, but within the pandemonium of the start, I was too busy getting repeatedly kicked in the face to remember that plan.

Things were settled by the first buoy and then I did manage to catch a draft to the second buoy.  But the course is a rectangle so this really didn't help me much.

Looking back, I didn't really push myself in the swim.  It's still always less about swimming and more about surviving.

Last years swim time = 29:47.
This years swim time = 28:41.

There is rumor that the swim course was long.  This was the rumor last year, too though - although the winning swim time (by the same girl) was a whole minute longer.  But the only thing that matters is your placement out of the water - I was 31st - which means I cant retire Masters class yet.

Last years T1 = 1:48.
This years T1 = 1:54.

This transition area is quite unfair because it's really big.  Some people get to run in / out, grab their bikes and go, while others have to grab their bikes and run in / out in their cleats.  Like me.

The bike was fine.  The bike is always fine.

Last years bike = 1:08:12.
This years bike = 1:08:20.

Eh, there was wind.

I somehow acquired this fancy amino acid hydration supplement.  In my mind, since it is fancy and the bottle swears to have magical hydration effects, it is awesome.  For this reason, I save it for race day.

Mid-way through the bike, I notice my stomach starting to cramp. This is a phenomenon that plagues me in every single olympic distance triathlon.  I have blamed everything: lake water, gels, over-hydration, heat.....but yet, I have never considered that maybe, my super-cool amino acid drink was the culprit.

Feeling like an idiot for not connecting the dots, I stopped drinking.  I ended the bike less bloated but more thirsty.

Last years T2 = 1:46.
This years T2 = 1:36.

I loosened my bike shoes before getting off my bike, which was a mistake considering how far I then had to run with my bike.  Given my lack of coordination, it should be no surprise that I tripped.   BUT, luckily, my peddle caught my knee and I was able to slide on onto my bike instead of falling clumsily on my face.

It was an unintended moment of grace.

Followed by the much longer, less graceful moment of dealing with my  bib-belt.

The plan was to grab it and put it on as I left transition.

This was a plan I remembered! 

So I grabbed it.

          And I tried to put it on.                   And tried.                              And tried.

A few minutes later, it was finally on, I dashed off for my run.

But only to the first water station.

The race started late (past 7:30am) and the temperature at this point was over 90-degrees.  Not only was I thirsty, I was hot.   Very hot.

I took every cup available to me and poured them over my head.

And then I "dashed" to the next water station.  I spent probably close to 30-seconds at every water station, gulping water and pouring water over my head.  Then with soaked shoes, I sloshed to the next station.  Sometimes we look back at races and think, "well, it wasn't really that bad."

Nope, not this time - it really was that bad.  I only smiled if I saw a camera.

Last years run = 47:21.

This years run = 46:27.

I was hoping for sub-42.  On labor day, I did a 31-bike ride, bricked with 6.1 miles @ 6:45.  I really thought maybe it was doable.  And maybe it is doable, on a different day with a different heat-index. 

After the race I was bummed about it, but I more happy just to be done and in the presence of lots of water, fans, misters, and my kids.  

Final time = 2:26:30, 5th female, 3rd AG (1st AG since 2 of the top 3 were in my age group and you cant double dip.  This is one of the benefits of being in a competitive age group).  

I am going to try the olympic triathlon one more time - when its not almost 100-degrees outside.  Until then, its trail racing season so if you need me, I will be on a mountain (starting with the Estrellas in two weeks).  

Or Masters, because I just can't let swimming beat me.

Feeling Rather Beat Up.

I have not swam for a week but assuming I am still suffering from my unique swimming injury, I have more annoying aches allowing me to create quite a list.  All of them, however, are self-inflected, so I am not sure I am entitled to complain?

I shall complain anyway.

The first one was a bike accident.
It is not new news that I don't check the weather reports before embarking on a bike ride. I mean, it's Arizona.  Our weather is hot and sunny 99% of the time.

But last Tuesday, the forecast supposedly called for rain.  A lot of rain.
I discovered this factoid when I was 12 miles away from home and the rain was falling so hard that it felt like tiny needles hitting my skin.  Needless to say, I don't have a lot of experience cycling on slippery roads.  I gripped by handlebars tightly, kept my head down and gave it 100% of undivided concentration.

I was 2 miles away from home when the rain finally stopped.  I let out a huge sigh of relief, relaxed my cramped hands, and made a right hand turn.  Or, tried to make a right hand turn.  The bike did turn- onto its side.

My first thought as I hit the ground was, "OH MY GOSH, CAN I RUN??"
I did an immediate check of the knees and ankles.  Everything felt normal and I was left with just some road rash and oozy wounds, like this:

But as the day moved into the evening, my neck and back started to hurt.  I guess I tensed up when I fell and accrued some whiplash.  Despite seeing a chiropractor, by the next day, I was unable to turn my head.
Brenna was unforgiving and insisted to clinging to my neck.  We couldn't even survive a trip to the grocery store, we had to be shuffled around in a shopping cart.

(and I realize this is not the first time I have posted myself squished in a shopping cart)















I started to feel better by the weekend, right in time to take a trip to San Francisco for a wedding.  David and I enjoyed our two toddler-free nights to the fullest.  We did everything you would expect me to do.... run a lot (and get lost a little) and eat and drink.

and drink, again.

You know you are having a really fun time when you end up buying purple, sparkly converse shoes.

Although - I don't have regret buying the shoes.  I love the shoes. And a girl can never have too many pairs of purple shoes (at least according to Brenna).

But I may regret running up so many hills....so many really, really big hills.

The opportunity to go out run for as long as I want doesn't happen very often.  For the first hour, I felt fantastic. I frolicked through the city and pranced up the hills with glee.  I was giddy when I found the Golden State Bridge.

But then, I had to turn around.
And all those hills were still there.  Only they seemed a lot bigger.  And my legs felt a lot heavier.

So, with my cycling wounds still fresh and my whiplash still lingering, I got on the airplane to return home with legs overflowing with lactic acid.
Thank goodness I had brought my bright pink compression socks.
Thank goodness they match my purple shoes.

I have spent my time resting and hoping that everything repairs itself for the race this weekend.  I swore this time around that I would practice my transitions - but I have not.   I don't feel ready so I plan to do what I always do - survive the swim, mess up in transitions, take a bike ride and then run too fast the first mile.  I get a strange pleasure in the predictability.

Xterra Highs and Swimming Lows

I had the grand opportunity to work at a local Xterra triathlon.  I have done Xterra races before but my ineptness for mountain biking has kept me away from their triathlon - so I jumped at the opportunity to participate in a relay team.  It was really everything a girl could ask for...awesome people, awesome race, a few extra bucks in my pocket, and a weekend away from anything that excessively screams and/or poops.

I found myself in awe of all the other female participants.  It takes a really "cool" girl to mountain bike.  I have tried it and, well, as long as there were no rocks or bumps or major hills, I did okay.  But let's be real:  Xterra is only rocks and bumps and major hills.  Or you may have to find a way to get your bike through a knee deep puddle, or over a closed-fence, or miles of mud.  I don't think Xterra worries too much about logistics because "finding a way" is sometimes more fun than being told the way.

The run lived up to my Xterra expectations.  I blissfully flew along the course.  I didn't wear a Garmin but it was a good, well-paced effort.  I did feel like I was somewhat cheating since I did not do the 15-mile mountain bike - that feeling took the "race" out of the race and made it more into a really fun run.  However, I did pull our team from 5th place to 3rd place and had the fastest run out of all the relay teams.

My favorite part of the run was the water.

Somethings you know you are meant to do.

I know I meant to trail run.  

Somethings you know you are not meant to do.

My body has been telling me that it is not meant for swimming.  I look at it and say, "Why not? You have long arms and gigantic hands like Michael Phelps!  You should be awesome!"  

And it responds by getting injured.

I HAVE A SWIMMING INJURY.

You are probably thinking that my shoulder hurts because that is a typical swimmer's injury.  But no, it is my ankle.  My swim coach, my swim friends, and my chiropractor are all baffled at this recent injury.  And I cannot bend or twist my ankle outside of the pool in a way to trigger the pain - I must be in the water, kicking my feet, for at least 10 minutes.

In any other conditions I would be on the roof screaming, "I can run.... I can  bike....I can dance....I can do anything BUT swim!!"  Unfortunately, with my triathlon looming in just one short week, this is an anomalous occasion where I do want to swim. 

Not to mention, I have put in HOURS at the pool, swimming 5 days a week, averaging 10,000-12,000 meters per week.  For countless weeks!  

My arm hair turned blond.

My swim cap ripped from overuse.

My bathing suite is so stretched out that your kids should not be able to look.

People no longer recognize me without goggle marks around my eyes.

The hypothesis is that I am doing something wrong with my flip turns.  This does make sense because it hurts the most after I flip.  If this hypothesis is correct, then aside from my training abruptly ending two weeks too early, I will be okay in the lake.

But, if this hypothesis is wrong, then I can end up in the middle of the nasty lake with a really nasty ankle cramp.  

And, it will just confirm that I meant to be running in the mountains instead.