Great Beard of Zeus

Many of my favorite bloggers do weekend recaps on Monday mornings, filled with pictures and great stories of what they did with their two days off.

I have rarely done this because as you are about to see, I lead a boring life, and my weekends are no different.

But here is what happened with the Goodwins this weekend.

On Friday night I had to beg my husband to take me to ice cream.  Beg because he hates ice cream.  Doesn't see the point of leaving the couch for the sweet little cone of joy.  I finally got him to agree to come with me, but he wouldn't drive and refused to put on a shirt or shoes because he was just going to wait for me in the car while I got my black raspberry soft serve with chocolate sprinkles.

Fun date, huh?

 

 Saturday there was a run, some errands, lots of packing up the condo.  Then we grabbed our to-go cocktails and hit up the movies.  While Seeking a Friend for the End of the World was not great, I definitely sobbed for the last 10 minutes of the movie and had to wait for all other movie guests to leave before I stood up.  I was stomach-heaving, ugly girl sobbing folks.

But then we went and got friend shrimp and clams and cocktails, and all was right with the world again.

Sunday was moving day.  We loaded up the truck and off we went to the new homestead.  We are 80% moved in to the new house.  Next week we will move the last bit and actually unpack.  House tour and details to come later this week.

 

It was hot, the sun was shining, I was tired from moving, and we have a little beach in our backyard, so after unloading and unpacking a grand total of one bag (over achiever, I know), I promptly did what any smart woman would do and I spent the next two hours sitting in the sun and splashing in the river behind our house.

Hope you all had beautiful, relaxing, productive weekends as well!

Love,

Granny

Daisy

With just two weeks left in our condo, on Saturday night I got to experience something I hoped to never experience; I watched a mouse scamper across our kitchen floor.

I obviously proceeded to yell "MOUSE! MOUSE! MOUSE! MOUSE!" to all of our house guests and Mr. G, who promptly ran in to the kitchen with a pot and spatula to catch the little critter.  

I was a little freaked out (who wants a dirty outdoor varmint in their OCD clean kitchen?!) but after about 20 hours I had gotten used to the idea of this cute little (and lord was she the littlest mouse I have ever seen) mouse living with us for our last two weeks in the condo.  As long as she didn't scamper out across my feet or move up into our bedroom with us, I was ok with this.

Except yesterday morning, I woke up and came downstairs to find a huge mess that Daisy (obviously our new house mate needed a name) left on my counter--she started nesting.  Oh lord, I thought.  Then I screeched up to Mr. G "GET DOWN HERE, DAISY MADE A FUCKING MESS!  HELP!"  I am very sane and practical in the early morning hours, don't you agree?  I told Mr. G to get a mousetrap and we would have to get rid of our new guest because we couldn't have her making a mess or having baby Daisys, etc.  But I asked if he could get a humane mouse trap because murder is just so cold hearted.  He said no.  I nearly cried.

We cleaned up the remnants of Daisy's nest and went off to work, making sure that the counters were spotless and no food was left out.  No sign of Daisy when we got home from work or while we were making dinner.  "Maybe we don't need to kill Daisy?  She seems to be staying hidden and she isn't bothering us, so maybe we don't have to kill her?!" I pleaded with Mr. G.  He said he forgot the mouse trap anyway, so she got to live for one more day.  I again asked for a humane mouse trap, he again said no, I again said, "let's let her be, she is fine, she is not hurting anyone."

Except that this morning, I came down to make my tea, which I always put out in my mug the night before, so I have to do as little in the morning as possible (I am lazy like that), and that little cute varmint bitch had gotten IN MY MUG and took my tea bag.  I found it half way across the kitchen with holes all over it, a trail of tea leaves and mouse poop.  What the living hell?  Today I calmly cleaned up Daisy's mess, washed my mug furiously with soap and water (I don't want no rodent diseases) and did not yell up to Mr. G (he specifically told me if Daisy made an appearance to take care of it myself like the adult that I am.  Humph.)

I went upstairs and told Mr. G to go ahead and get the mouse trap.

I already had a little cry about it on my way to work, though.

Love,

Granny

Who runs the world...GIRLS

This weekend I ran another little local race, Skip Matthews 4 mile annual run.  The run raises money for our local cancer center and brain cancer research.  It was my second time running it, and I already look forward to running it again next father's day.

Like last year, I ran the race with BFFAE (and evah!).  Last year Laura and I ran the race and ran it at our own (slow-ass) paces.  It as a really tough race for us because I was just starting out and Laura is more of a Jazzercize type of gal.  I think my time was about 38:55 last year.  I remember thinking it was really hard and unenjoyable.

This year Laura and I met up with another old friend, Leah, who is a runner extraordenare.  We did a quick warm up (and a few quick emergency bathroom trips) and then we were off.  Laura's goal was to stick with me, my goal was to go faster than last year, but to not really push myself too much (too tired).  Leah's goal was to...leave us in the dust.  Homegirl is fast.  I saw her take off right away, and did not see her again until I crossed the finish line.

Laura and I stuck together like glue.  It was great looking over and seeing her there.  We were slowly picking off runners in front of us, and throughout we had a pretty good pace.  At about .5 miles in, I was passed by this Amazonian woman pushing a stroller with two friends.  She stayed within a few yards of us the whole time, and I used her as my pacer.  She was always just right in front of me, chatting with her kid and her friends (what the actual fuck?  I can't chat with my friends period when I am running, let alone pushing 40 lbs of extra weight.  Show off.)  I did pass her going up the one hill (which I remember being a lot more brutal last year--yay improvement) and she passed me about 3/4 of a mile later.  

I was pretty tired and though I knew I could have pushed myself harder, I was glad I didn't. I was clearly working hard and had I pushed myself more I would have been pretty miserable for the entire four miles.  But for the last mile I did kick it up a notch, and for the last half mile I really kicked it up.  I think my pace for the last half mile was close to 8:30, which is fast for me.

Just at the four mile mark, a couple of hundred yards before the end of the race, my amazonian, child pushing, friend chatting pacer was still right in front of me and I decided "FUCK YOU, IM GONNA PASS YOUR ASS."

And I did. 

Laura and I finished right next to each other, I think our time was right around 37 minutes, but I didn't really look closely and there were no race chips. I did PR by about a minute and a half, and Laura PRd by about 4 minutes!  Leah of course had finished about 6 minutes before us (with no sweat to be seen) :)

The big move

I hate moving
I hate packing
I hate waking up early (especially on the weekend)
I hate spending the day inside when it is beautiful out (especially on the weekend)
I hate getting dirty

Tomorrow is going to be super swell.

Instagram

I don't have much to say on this rainy, dreary humpday, so I will let instragram do the talking today.

Nothing says "practical" like trying to pack up your entire house to move in 4 days, yet getting 5 huge, fresh bouquets to spread around.

"I'm here to PARTYYYYYY"

Not arguable.

Yes, my man often contemplates the meaning of life while looking at waterfalls.  Doesn't yours?

(I think he is really watching a stick float down the falls...)

Why didn't I invent these?

Love,

Granny

Just For Your Information

The entire series of Friday Night Lights was just as good the second time around.

Texas Forever,

Granny

CBHM Race Recap

So it turns out I am still slow.  I think I just need to accept that.

But I managed to shave 10 minutes off my last half.  Which to be honest isn't that surprising, because my previous half was also my first half, which was expected to be slow.  But now that I am a seasoned runner and all, I anticipated running about 10 minutes faster.

I am awesome like that.

For the full long and boring and limited on pictures race recap, please keep reading.

For those who like short and simple, the first paragraph summed it up.

Saturday night it was cold and rainy.  The forecast for Sunday morning was cold and rainy.  I was bummed to have to run 13.1 miles in the cold and rain, but there was nothing I could do about it so I made my pasta, had my adult beverage, and hit the hay at a reasonable hour so I would get a solid 8 hours of shut eye.

Except I woke up at 1:23 am and did not fall back asleep.  I would doze for a bit, but I was dreaming or thinking of the race in the morning.  My heart was racing.  I was anxious.  By 5 am I got up on my own accord, went downstairs and watched some FNL, and tried to burn some energy.  I made my breakfast, got everything prepped,  and looked at the hour-by-hour forecast.  PERFECT running weather.

Finally at 7 I loaded into the car and we took off to the start of the race.  I grabbed my number and chip and stood around looking for my friends.  After a smooth port a potty trip, four of us lined up, the gun went off and so did we.

The first three miles were lovely, which was a surprise because they are my least favorite miles of the race.  Flat and straight.  But we were all so excited and chatting and the weather was perfect.  By mile 4 my sun glasses were fogged up, so I tossed them to my friend who was spectating.  At the four mile mark I was making great time, and I was thinking I was probably going out to fast, but I wanted to keep up with my friend.

By mile 5 I had to (shamefully) take a quick little walking break up a hill that I can normally run up without a problem.  I was still way under my goal time, so I felt ok with this.  For most of the race we run somewhat along a little river.  Imagine my surprise just before mile 8 when I saw Mr. G floating in the river in his kayak cheering people on.  It was a great pick me up, as was the fact that I had just ran into my friend Brandy.  For the most part we ran the rest of the race together.  Thank god, too, because we were both on the same page.  When we needed to walk up the hills, we happened to be together.  When we needed encouragement or to yell out in exhaustion, we were together.  It really helped.

I kept trucking and had to walk part of most of the hills, which really pissed me off because during training I could run up the hills.  I am blaming it on my exhaustion from only 3 hours of sleep.  Regardless, at every mile marker I was still under or right on my goal pace, so I was pretty happy with myself and knew I could afford to take walk breaks.

By mile 11 I was over it.  I knew I had one water break left and that I was going to walk through the water stop and then just cruise on.  But good god almighty those last two miles, and especially the last mile, were so long.  My feet were blistered to hell.  I was legit exhausted.  I could finally see the finish line.  I could hear the people cheering, hear the music, see the "FINISH!" banner and clock.  But I swear it took an hour to reach it.  I tried to run looking at the ground, a trick I do when running up hills so I do not see how far I still have to go, but every time I looked up I felt like I was making no progress.  Finally, FINALLY, I was at the end.  Some of my friends were spectating and cheering me on.  Mr. G was there yelling my name. I crossed the finish line and just stopped walking.  My gun time was 2:12:xx, my goal was 2:11:xx, my chip time was 2:11:30.   I had met my goal, even with walk breaks.

I grabbed my water, metal, shirt, and collapsed in the field.  I was exhausted.

And all of my girlfriends were impressive as well.  I have kick ass friends.  Jenna and Brandy completed their first halves and Jenna did it with a migraine!  Juli completed her first half and kicked my PRs ASS!  Way to go Juli!  Kali, who did not train at all for this half, got her own PR and left me in the dust.  My cousin (in law?) Holly shaved 10 minutes off her PR as well.  And my old friend Jen placed 4th female overall, 2nd in her age group, with a time of 1 hour and mother fucking 27 minutes.  You women are awesome and great inspiration for my next race!

I know I am slow, I am never going to be fast, I am never going to beat my friends.  But I have already put a note on my calendar to sign up for the CBHM again next year, with a goal of shaving off a couple of minutes.

Love,

Granny

"Running never gets easier, you just get faster"

That is really the truth, running never does get easier, but in the last year and a half I have seen my pace improve significantly.  Yes, I am still slow.  Yes, I still come home sore and tired a lot.  But I also come home a few minutes faster than I was running last year.

In two days I am running my second half marathon.  I am beyond excited; this is the race that got me interested in running longer distances.  Last year I had just started running and could barely run 6-7 miles when the covered bridge half marathon was taking place, but I went and cheered on my friends, and my heart told me "next year you HAVE to run this race!"

I am by no means a seasoned half marathoner.  However, I feel confident about this race.  I know the course.  I have trained.  I have already survived one half.  I know I can do this.  And I know I can and likely will (barring nothing disastrous happens) get a new PR.

But I am still nervous.  I want to enjoy this race.  I want to not think about being in pain or how much longer I have to go.  And though I am by no means a competitive person, I want to kick ass.  I want to beat my last race by a huge amount of time.  I want to push myself and prove that my training has not been worthless.  I want to see my finishing time and be proud, not disappointed.  I want to have a better time than my friends who are also running (nice, huh?).  I want to shave at least 11 minutes off my finishing time last year.  I want to prove to myself that I can meet my goal.  And if I don't, I know it will not be the end of the world, I will still PR, but I will be angry with myself.  I know I am capable of going faster.

Tomorrow will be a busy day of errands and housework to get me exhausted for Saturday night.  I will go through all my pre-run rituals--eat too much pasta and have a large glass of wine.  I will try to go to bed early and get as much sleep as possible but my mind will be focused on the race and I will likely toss and turn all night.  I will get up early on Sunday, eat my pre-race breakfast (toasted deli thin with egg white and reduced fat cheese on one side.  Eaten separately on the other half of the deli thin I do PB.  Thanks for asking.), go to the bathroom, and hop in the truck.  I will fiddle with my phone, earbuds, and fuel belt.  I will double and triple check that I have enough shotbloks.  I will try to take deep breaths and relax.

And then I will be running my way through the windy back roads of Vermont for the next 2 hours.

Wish me luck!

Granny