The sun peeked out from behind the clouds today just before my lunch break. I was tempted to go outside for a run, but I only packed my shorts and short sleeve shirt. You may remember that I live in California. In fact, I am a native California girl. I like my warm, sunny days. I'll still run in the rain; I'm not a wimp or anything. I just like to have my warmer clothes. I figured I'd go for the original plan and hit the "mill". It's only 3 miles; I can endure that.

The guy running next to me must have thought that I was some sort of freak. I get bored running on the mill so I need to play with the buttons. During the warm up, I fiddled with my earphones. My earphones insert into the ear canal, each wire wraps around the ear and then meet the main wire at the back of the head. There is a plastic sleeve that slides up to hold the whole set up in place. I didn't put them on correctly so the wire kept bouncing in front of me. They pulled against my face and my hand kept brushing against it. I kept running and adjusted them to the correct position. Then I worked my pace up by pushing the speed up by two after each lap. Yassos? I thought better of it, but then changed my mind a 1/2 lap into my second mile. My music was not keeping me settled, so I pulled the headphones off and ramped the speed up to 8.0 mph. I ran hard. The guy next to me finally retreated. Thump-thump-thump. Ugh! I hate that loud pounding sound you get while running on the treadmill. I was annoyed with the mill and with my mind. After a lap, I tapped the speed down by two and was happy for the slower pace. I continued to do so until I finished the 3-mile workout, each time relieved by the difference in the speed.

From the mill to the weights, I hit the machines for bit. Then I grabbed the medicine ball for some core strengthening. Finally, I grabbed 5-pound dumbbells for my arm and shoulder work. Outside the sun still peeked out just to tease me. I could have gone outside and enjoyed probably the only sun that were are going to see this week. But NO, I needed to run on the mill and do weights. By the looks of it, I would have stayed dry too.
Well, I did get a good workout. When I finally hit the stairs to return to my office, my body felt as weighed down. It was as if I was 50 pounds heavier. I think that is a good sign. I took it to mean that I did well. Tomorrow, rain or shine, I'll be outdoors.

Posted by Juls at 5:41 AM | Permalink

When I was young my parents used to remind me that there were children starving in other countries whenever I didn't want to finish the food on my plate. Let me tell you that my not eating every last morsel on my plate was a rare occurrence. In fact, often my sister and I would eat the leftovers after dinner so that we wouldn't have to pull out a Tupperware bowl and put the food into it. Eating the food was somehow easier. I knew better than to test the logic, but always wondered how my eating the last piece of bread on my plate would benefit the starving kids in other countries. Why didn't they just pack up all of the food that I didn't feel like eating and send it off to those kids? Sometimes, things just don't sit right in your head.

After today's workout I went down to the cafeteria to pick up lunch. At the register were Belgium chocolates with a sign saying "Feed the Hungry". Although I was hungry, I'm pretty sure that they were not talking about me. I sat there in line resisting the urge to buy the Raspberry filled Dark Chocolate bar. It's hard not to feel ambushed from all directions. First the grocery store checkout counters and now at work. I took my lunch up to my desk to eat. An hour later, I was heading down the stairs again to "Feed the Hungry". I know that it won't help me, and don't really know how it will help the hungry, but I'll do my part.

I sat at my desk eating the chocolate bar and wondering if it was really worth all of the calories. It wasn't as good as I had imagined, but I ate it all anyways. In doing so, I'll remember my parents’ reminders and also un-did the benefits of my 45-minute spin on the bike.

Posted by Juls at 5:40 AM | Permalink

I stayed up late completing the finishing touches on my Mom’s quilt last night. We are finally celebrating the holidays today so I needed to complete it. The top has been done for weeks, but I hadn’t found the right fabric for the backing and border. Additionally, the feed-dogs of the sewing machine were giving me trouble. As I worked, our dog lay by my side looking pained as he hoped that I would be retiring soon. I finished about midnight and made my way upstairs. I had already set out running clothes for the morning run. I put them on and adjusted the alarm clock 20 minutes later than my previously planned wake up time.

For today’s run, we explored some new territory. I chose the more difficult direction to run this loop in order to avoid coming down a steep single-track. The path taken was a steep climb almost from the start of the run. My legs protested as I ran up the never-ending hill. My breathing was heavy and my body heated up quickly. Mark, Cindy and I were a cheery bunch - talking, groaning, and greeting people along the way. I knew that the GPS had shorted us about ½ a mile as this was a measured path. Still, true to form, I ran two additional laps around the track when we returned to our cars.

Posted by Juls at 5:38 AM | Permalink

I always used to brag that running is so easy because you really don't need much equipment in order to do it. You just put on your shoes, and shorts and you're on your way. Over the past few years, my running has become more complex. Running clothes, shoes and socks - - yes, I still use those. But now I have my “special” running socks and shoes. I roll on my sports shield to keep my skin from chaffing. Then there is my water filled camelback and nutrition supplements (GU) for the long runs and perhaps my iPod too. But that's not all.

I also have a special wrist mounted GPS device that I wear as well. It has a heartrate monitor strap to pick up the HR data. My GPS device has given me one more way to obsess about distance and pace. GPS technology is very cool as it allows you to just look at your device and know how far you have run, your current running pace, and the average pace for the entire run. I can even do track workouts without the track by just programming the interval that I want to alerted to and the rest intervals. It does it all. It even has a virtual running partner that you can compete against. At the end of the run, I can upload my data to my computer and get picture of my run on a map. It is mind boggling the amount of data you can retrieve after a run.

Well, Garmin is has now taken the GPS technology one step further. They have released a new model and I can't wait to upgrade. My husband now has my hand-me-down device and I am without until my new one arrives. The withdrawal period is horrendous. Yesterday, I was trying to do my Yasso 800s using the stopwatch feature on my iPod! It's crazy. I've become so tied to my data much like an addict who needs their fix.

Posted by Juls at 5:37 AM | Permalink

I left healthcare about four years ago, but I was proud to be the pediatric nurse that I had become. I did home health visits in the final few years of my patient care days. I didn’t sit back and do my charting during my patient’s infusions; I would read them one of their favorite books. I believed in the personal touch. Listening to my HMO’s commercial, you would think that they did too.

So, you can imagine how appalled I was to open the postcard type memo regarding most recent mammogram. I almost didn’t even read it right away, but then wondered what appointment I had forgotten. Mixed in with the junk mail and bills was a little note to tell me that there was a “finding” that required “further studies” to be done. What ever happened to you doctor calling you up to explain your lab, or other test, results? To top it off I had to wait three weeks for these additional tests to be done.

The past three weeks has allowed for a lot of reflection, introspection, and loss of sleep. I live such a healthy life. I exercise for periods greater than 1 hour on six, of the seven days, each week. I take the stairs, and eat pretty healthy. I drive safe, wearing my seatbelt, and following the rules. So, how could I possibly be cancer? My kids need me! But, you just never know…

Today, I had my breast mashed in many directions. The Radiology Tech kept asking if I was okay. What did it matter; she was required to compress the tissue that hard to get a good picture. Actually, it was five good pictures. I can take the pain. After the radiologist read those shots, I then had an ultrasound. At least they were being thorough. And finally, with relief I headed out the door and drove to the track.

I put my hair up and did a warm up mile and began a Yasso 800. I ran two glorious laps around the track as quick as I could do them, followed by a recovery lap of jogging. I repeated this combination three times and then walked around the track to cool-down. Each of the three Yasso 800s was like one of those sleepless, worry filled weeks. It was painful but necessary. I am now in the cool-down phase and finally able to rest and recover. At least I sure hope I will sleep.

Posted by Juls at 5:36 AM | Permalink

There are days when I need to run all by myself. I don’t want to talk to anyone, and I don’t want to run anyone’s pace but my own. These are days where there is no particular focus. The run is random; it is predictable, it is just another run. 6 miles out and back. No watch to keep the time and no GPS to track my pace. Maybe too many things are going on, maybe not enough.

I think about things -- I have my wishes, my daydreams, and my disappointments. I let my mind go. I just listen to the music and my feet follow. One foot in front of another. I run little harder and feel my breathing increasing. I pull with my arms, and let my feet turn over quickly. Sweat drips down my back and, in a blurr, I see people watching. And I don’t care what they think…Now, I’m ready for the day.

Posted by Juls at 5:34 AM | Permalink

On February 16th, I drove my mommy-van to Reno, Nevada to witness my uncle be ordained Bishop of Reno. I made the sign of the cross at the 1st sign of snow on the ground as Grandma had done when she left on a car trip. The trip to Reno was fairly uneventful, yet I gripped the steering wheel tightly hoping that we would get through the slushy pass safely. I have always been a cautious driver; however the birth of my children increased my tentative driving style two-fold. From the middle row I could hear YaYa cheerfully announcing that he saw snow on the ground, and then on the trees, and finally ALL over. “Oh Mom, look” he said pointing off to the view. I didn’t look.

When I arrived with my sister and her family we couldn't walk more than a few feet through the smoke-filled casino before we would get stopped to catch up with more family members. From Guam, New York, San Jose & San Francisco, they came from near and far. I was just thinking that it was so nice to have a happy reason to gather rather than another death.

The ceremony was just over 3 hours long with more than 4000 people attending. The joke in our family is that we have now endured enough church to last us for about 3 months. The ceremony was full of pageantry and symbolism. All of the 170 priests, about 30 bishops, about 30 deacons, altar boys and various other representatives from other religious faiths were decked out in their most colorful spiritual attire. It was beautiful in its presentation. From the laying on of hands, to the ending mass the ceremony was filled with historical Catholic tradition and symbolism.

I had a wonderful view of it all seated in the 2nd row, center stage with YaYa and BoBo. I took it all in until nothing short of panic hit me as YaYa whispered to me that he had to go to the bathroom. There would be no graceful exit from this prime location and there would be no safe return to the spot either. Somehow he got through it. Thank God. He does answer our prayers.

Posted by Juls at 5:33 AM | Permalink

I still have the Valentine Card that YaYa gave me last year up on the box outside my office door. It says, “Have an Incredible Valentine’s Day” and has a picture of the family from the movie “The Incredibles”. I am the Mom, or Elastigirl, of our family. Elastigirl has the ability to stretch in order to take care of all of the required family duties and take care of her own desires/goals as well. She’s a character that I can relate to well. Call me "Elasta" for short.

This Valentine's Day Tom and I woke up to find our littlest Valentine snuggled right between us. That is how it goes when you have kids. Our children have this built-in radar that sends them back to their origins like a honing device whenever one of us so much as thinks a romantic thought. My husband must have been dreaming of Valentine's Day smooches.

We don't usually do up Valentine's Day (which is fine by me); I'd rather have flowers given to me "just because" rather than because some holiday says that it should be this way. And, I've certainly eaten way too much chocolate in the past few weeks. I worked hard to work off those pounds of chocolate today.

I did Yasso 800s on the mill for 3-miles. With one, of the three, miles as a warm-up, this didn't amount to many repeats. It was just too short of a run. I was able to get 3 x 800m in by taking the last repeat right up to the end of the 3rd mile.

Posted by Juls at 5:32 AM | Permalink

After yesterday, I was hesitant to get up too early for my pace run. It was Friday, when I needed to run more than anything, but my throat hurt and my head ached. I ran in spite of it. I had arrived home from work I bounded up the stairs. I quickly put on my running clothes and, without thinking, I set out for my run. But my whole body protested. It felt sluggish, like I had gained 100 pounds since my last run. My legs ached. Slowly, I trudged up the road along side the cars coming home from a week of work. By the time I’d finished my short, 3 mile run I was ready for the Friday night activities but wondered if I had made a wrong move in trying to run.

Today, I let the activities of the day start. I skipped my latte and headed off to get YaYa to his 10 AM baseball practice. The day was gorgeous. I asked YaYa’s coach, if he'd mind if I took off for a while. What could he say, I was all decked out in my running attire; it didn't take a brain surgeon to figure out that I was ready to go right then and there.

So, I kicked off my sandals and pulled on my new shoes. In just minutes I was heading off through the neighborhood. I headed in the direction of a nearby park which has a nice running path. I knew that I would probably be turning back right about the time I hit the park. I was right; the only reason I entered the park was to use the bathrooms.

It was another sunny day. I ran with my iPod playing my BQ playlist. I kept an eye on the cars as I ran, facing traffic, along in the bike lane. Although my pace was so sluggish yesterday, today that was not the case. My feet seemed to spring off the ground as I ran, and my ponytail had that swing. It was an indication that I was in the groove. My overall pace was 8:13/mile.

Posted by Juls at 5:30 AM | Permalink

YaYa is normally a gentle, always happy, and eager to please son. Thursday night, however, he was not so eager to please. He was not happy. Instead, YaYa wailed in total frustration as I told him that he could not watch TV, go to a friend’s house, OR play a video game. “It’s NOT fail,” he demanded. Fair or not, I was not backing down. He hadn’t done any homework while in the after school care for the third time this week. What made the issue worse was that he had been given some extra work to re-do that night.

He continued his screaming, crying and near tantrum behavior well into the first 30 minutes of us arriving at home. I could tell that he was tired and hungry. I could have sent him to be for the night, and he probably wouldn’t have given me much of a fight. I gave him a protein drink, and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He ate. Finally, he gave up the fight and began his homework. It wasn’t until 9 PM that he was finally finishing. But then came the bedtime battle. He was beyond tired and I was too. His older brother was taking residence in their bathroom and YaYa didn’t want to brush his teeth in mine. He tried to make his way into the hall bathroom, but BoBo wouldn’t let him. Again, the drama started.

Having stayed home from work sick, and skipping my daily run, my defenses were down. I was a near-useless Mom without sleep or exercise. It was an ugly sight. I crawled into bed and YaYa crawled in with me. I didn’t care if his teeth were brushed or not. Not tonight anyways. We fell asleep and dreamed of an easier tomorrow.

Posted by Juls at 5:29 AM | Permalink

Over the river and thru the wood,
To Grandma's Marathon I go;
Hal shows the way
To train each day,
Thru hard marathon training I go, oh!
Over the river and thru the wood,
Oh, how the wind does blow!
It might blister my toes,
And sunburn my nose,
As over the ground I go.

Over the country and thru the sky,
To have a first-rate day;
Oh, hear the bell ring,
"Ting-a-ling-ling!"
Hurrah for marathon Day-ay!
Over the river and thru the wood,
Run fast on my feet today!
Spring over the ground,
Like a hunting hound!
For I’ll BQ on Marathon Day.

Posted by Juls at 12:07 AM | Permalink

I’m at home today. I’ve got a bogged down mind. I spent the better part of the wee hours wide away. Possibly, the reason for my insomnia was from the non-drowsy cough medicine I took. Whatever the reason, I woke up this morning not ready for the world. My throat was so sore, my stomach hurt, and my head has been throbbing.
During the day, I began on a project that’s been patiently waiting for me: My Mom’s Christmas present. Yes, that is her Christmas present for 2005. I know it is way past Christmas, but my family isn’t gathering until later this month so I’ve felt like its okay.

The fabric has been staring at me from the top of my grandma’s old hope chest in my family room. Neatly stacked pieces of shirts, pants, and memories sat and waited patiently for me to gain the courage to work with them. Just before Christmas, I had met with my Mother and carefully chosen just the right pieces of my step-dad’s clothing. I’m going to make her a patchwork quilt so that she can hold him close to her whenever she misses him. I think there may even be enough fabric for a small lap quilt, or pillow, for me as well. But when could I do it? It’s not so much the time as it is my emotions. It has been months since he died and I am feeling so much stronger now. I guess I am enjoying the not crying. They called to me, last night, as I lie in bed wide awake.
There are other things on my mind too but I’m not ready to go into them.

I started with the cutting of the fabric. I found that even though Papa’s smell seemed to have left the clothing, when the iron heated up the fabric the smell came back alive. It filled the room as tears filled my eyes.

The center piece of each square is from a Hawaiian style shirt that he wore often. The print from this center piece is delicate leaves and flowers with browns, blues, with hints of red-orange and turquoise. The log cabin style quilt comes together with pieces of beige, brown, and two shades of navy obtained from shirts and dress slacks. The quilt is only a patchwork in the sense that it brings patches from my step-dad’s life filled with simplicity and softness. This is exactly what I hope that it will bring to my Mom.

In the meantime, my throat still hurts, my stomach aches, and my head is still bogged down....oh, and I haven't run. Well, there's always tomorrow....

Posted by Juls at 5:25 AM | Permalink

YaYa puts on his baseball helmet, grabs his bat and enters the batting cage. He's so excited to be there that he doesn't even take his jacket off. Right away, he begins hitting all the stray yellow balls back toward the machines. He's got a lot of enthusiasm for baseball. He gives it 100% effort.

Today was baseball practice after school. We are now at the cages as YaYa's older brother has pitching lessons. So YaYa gets some extra batting practice. He's taken in his new coach's instructions well. He is putting the steps into action. At first he misses. His swing is late, too high, too low and then...just right. Wham! He hits the ball. He hits the next, and next, and next. Now he's on a roll and the smile on his face shows his pride.

I am the proud Mother, who looks through the chain link and offers as much encouraging words as I can. "I know you can do it," I say. And then he does.

Posted by Juls at 5:48 AM | Permalink

I began today's spin cycle workout nice and easy. While listening to a book on tape, via my iPod, I sat and spun away. I had an hour long cross-training workout in mind. My legs have recovered nicely from yesterday's race, but there remains a bit of an ache to my low back. As I listened, I found myself smiling, laughing, and feeling sad as the story played out. Then the story began to head in a different direction. The kisses were getting more passionate and I began to wonder just how far the couple was going to take it. I hoped that the narrator wouldn't describe all of the juicy details; I was in my work gym for goodness sake. I didn't want to find out. I quickly switched my iPod to my favorite playlist and in doing so I intensified my workout three-fold.
I cranked up the resistance and came off the seat for a steady, sustained, standing climb. I stayed in the climb for three songs, sat down to get a drink of water, and resumed the climb. For the entire spin I thought of what it meant to be focused. I reminded myself that each workout is for a purpose, and the only way that I assure my BQ is to be focused in each of my workouts from now until June 17th. By the time I exited the bike, I was so sweat soaked that you would have thought that someone had poured a cooler of Gatorade over my head (as they had done post Superbowl win). I showered, dressed, and then ruined it all with a chicken sandwich and fries.

Posted by Juls at 12:03 AM | Permalink

Having a weekend rest day can only mean one thing…house cleaning. Since last weekend I figured that the bathrooms could wait, it was the natural starting point today.

Did I mention that I am the only female in a house full of testosterone? The male gender might be known for their ability to aim when hunting, or shooting the basketball are involved, but not when it comes to getting their urine into the toilet. I hate cleaning toilets for this very reason. Two weeks worth of 3-point attempts gone awry has its implications.

As I begin this, much needed task I can’t help but think of the porta-potties provided at the races. I have a half-marathon that I am running tomorrow and as much as I appreciate having a place to empty my bladder, I hate the porta-potties. First, you wait in excessively long lines to use them. When you finally get in one you cover your nose and attempt to relax enough to get the job done and exit just as quickly as possible. The mixture of chemicals and bodily fluids is disgusting. I appreciate my own bathrooms, even at their dirtiest, on race day.

As I clean my house, I listen to The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants audio book on my iPod. I’m embarrassed to admit that of all of the books I could have downloaded, this is the one I chose. I love the narrator’s descriptive voice and I enjoy listening to the totally female view of their experiences ~ even if the characters are only teenagers. Listening to the story brings me back to the time when I was younger, but more so, it makes me glad that I had boys (bathrooms and all).

Posted by Juls at 11:59 PM | Permalink

Spending nearly my entire Saturday cleaning house should have tired me out. At midnight, however, I was still wide awake. I wasn't anxious; I just could not sleep. I even took two Tylenol PM to attempt to induce sleep. It wasn't until my youngest, who also couldn't sleep, joined me in bed that I was able to leave my body for the land of dreams. Just a few hours later, I was awakening for my race preparations and travel to the race.
At 5 AM Sunday morning, just prior to the alarm sounding, I hoped out of bed. I wasn't nervous about the race itself; I just wanted to be sure that we caught the bus to the start on time. Since I had set out all of my clothes the night before, I just put them on and went downstairs to eat and wait for Cindy to arrive. It wasn't until we were arriving in San Francisco that I began to get nervous. As we drove down 19th, it felt like a race to get the last parking spots. It seemed that the majority of the cars out were filled with other runners. Having to pass the smaller parking spots, we ended up a half a mile uphill from the bus pickup. We ran down, got in a crazy long line of runners, and later boarded the bus for the start.
The day was clear and sunny. I knew I had made a grave error in choosing my clothing. I had expected the usual foggy, cold weather that San Francisco is known for. There I stood, among runners in shorts and singlet, in my tights and running long sleeved mock tee. "Just a training race," I reminded myself.
When we first headed out, I felt awkward. I just couldn't find my groove. Cindy was with me and we made small talk as we went. But while I love to RUN with company, I hate to RACE with company. There is an awareness of the other person that keeps me from totally focusing on myself. You hear their breathing, their steps, and maybe even their thoughts. I feel their discomfort and I just can't find separation. So when Cindy was heading to the bushes for pee, I decided to hold mine a bit longer. I knew that even if she caught up with me, or passed me, that I would have found my groove in the meantime. I immediately felt 100% better. Less than a mile later was a huge line of porta-potties.
The race took us up and down small rolling hills. I was just too hot, so I peeled off my long sleeved shirt and gradually got used to the cool air. As I headed down the hill toward the Great Highway I was awed with the breath taking view of the ocean. I love California! This part of the race is a long, gentle climb. We run on the chopped up road towards the zoo and then turn around and head back. While it is fun to see the race leaders zooming past, it is easy to feel like all of those people are passing you.
After the turn around, I pick up my effort ever so slightly. Running on more of the shoulder of the road, the path is less torn up. It is easier to enjoy the view. I see the torture in the oncoming runners faces as they continue in the opposite direction. I remember what I felt when I was on that side of the road. I've only got 3.1 more miles to run and it feels good knowing this. When I make the turn back towards Golden Gate Park, I come across this young lady who groans that she hopes that she can finish. "Oh, you WILL finish," I assure her. She is unaware just how close the finish is. I arm her with the knowledge that she has less than a half a mile to go and plow into the hill. I know the course well from here. I pick up the pace even more, and as I turn the corner and head toward the finish line I am already moving as fast as my feet will take me. I finish 1:56.
I found myself slightly disappointed in my finish time. I secretly wanted to beat my 1:50 time from two years ago. I wanted this even though I had sprinted too early in that race as I had thought the finish was at the end of the Great Highway. I had actually run VERY well. I ran, an evenly paced race, dead on at my marathon pace.

Posted by Juls at 6:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I was running CIM when my sister pointed out a girl, about my age, who was running just ahead of me. "There's your carrot, Julie. Go get her," she said in an effort to encourage me to pick up the pace. We were about 20 miles into the marathon and I was not feeling all that good. I was tired and my sister's cheery, energetic advice was something that I didn't want to hear, even if it was well meaning. I guess that is why I usually avoid commitments to race with someone.

I have to admit that there are times when chasing a carrot can be beneficial. Today we had an "all hands" meeting where we discussed employee satisfaction survey results and what we can do to improve it. A guy in the back speaks up and says that his direct-reports are chasing a carrot when there isn't one for him to hand them. Someone in the front says, "who do you want to give you the carrot?” The discussion seems to be going round and round the wrong thing. What is the carrot? Is it imaginary, or is it real? Is it money, monetary gifts, or just a simple thank you? We all want it...just a bit of reward for putting in the extra effort. I just want more recognition for the accomplishments than the disappointments. We all work hard trying to make the difference between success and failure but sometimes the outcome is out of our control.

After the meeting I check my email and head to the fitness center for a 3-mile run on the "mill". For the next 30 minutes, I won't think of work; I'll focus on running. I warm up for a mile with my iPod playing another book on tape that I downloaded. I keep it easy and then prepare for a couple Yasso 800s. I know it's not the same on a treadmill but every little bit counts. I’m putting in just the little extra effort on the chase to Boston ~ my carrot. I AM chasing the carrot and I know that with a bit more tempo runs, mile repeats, and Yasso 800s, I will be crunching away on it very soon.

Posted by Juls at 11:56 PM | Permalink