The Louisiana (Half) Marathon

Back in March of 2015, I ran a half-marathon in Dallas. I nearly died. I declared that day that I was done with them. Then, I got the itch again and I said that I would run one more half. I signed up for the Louisiana Marathon - that's what it's called even though there's more than just a marathon. Marla was going to run the whole marathon and I was going to run the half and call it quits.  Marla ended up having to defer until next year, but I said that I wouldn't defer because this one was IT. Three is enough for this season of my life. Training for a run like that takes a lot of time and commitment. Frankly, there are a million other things that need my time. I swore (and still swear) that the LA Marathon was it for awhile.

Naturally, I didn't train like I should have but I still wanted to run it and did what I could in the few runs that I was able to do before the big weekend. The weekend before the race, I ran my ten-miler and loved it. There's not much that beats the feeling of accomplishment I get when I finish a long run. I knew that I could run the half, but decided that I was going to make a point of enjoying the process and not stress about my time. Sadly, it was at mile 8 that I realized that had I made attention to my time and pace, I could have done what I originally wanted, but alas...

Race day came and it was super cold. Matt was with me at the start point as he's been with me for the start of all of my halfs. I took off when it was my turn, cranked up my music (Thanks, Leighann), and just went. I people watched, thought about life, and ran. Just ran. I walked when I wanted to, but mostly tried to push myself without overdoing it. I can seriously say that I really enjoyed it. I never thought that I was crazy for doing another one or regretting it. I was excited about every step that I ran over walking.

I only took one picture. I was saving the battery on my phone as best I could so that the GPS could run for the whole race. I wanted to see my mile-by-mile pace after it was over so I needed my battery.

This fireman runs half marathons frequently in his turnout gear. Even if the tank on his back was empty, he's still looking at about 50 pounds of gear while holding the flag. I was impressed. He ran a good bit and walked some. He stopped for pictures whenever asked - and took Abita shots along the way. I was behind him for longer than I care to admit....

Even though Marla says that I'm still on a high from last weekend, I do have a new thought. I'm strongly considering running a whole marathon in the fall or winter. Either October or December, depending on which I decide to do. It's possible that I'll decide that I just can't devote the time to it that it requires but for now, I'm about 80% committed.

I know, I am crazy.

Confessions of an exhausted mother

I'm still relatively new at this whole mother thing. I don't have it mastered. I'm not an expert on child-rearing. And I'm certainly no one's go-to person for advice. I do some things right (like making my kid wear a coat during the winter) but I also do some things wrong (like not letting my kid play in dirt). I've learned during the past year and a half that sometimes, I just have to do what works. More often than I'd like to admit, what works isn't something I'm proud of. Even though this blog is public and accessible by anyone who comes up with the right google search terms, I've decided to tell you about a few of my less-proud moments. Here are my confessions, if you will.

No matter how great a day was or how well behaved Thomas was during the day, I do look forward to bedtime. His and mine. But mostly his. Now especially, bedtime is not a battle. We snuggle and sing, then I lay his little body in his crib and I go do the work that didn't get done during the day. Or I sit on the couch with my husband and watch TV. Or I color in my coloring book*. Basically, Thomas's bedtime is the mark of a very productive (or relaxing) part of my day. I look forward to it at some point in every. single. day.

I eat donuts in the laundry room. Thomas LOVES donuts. Loves them. Actually, his sweet tooth may be larger than mine. It's a problem. We limit his sweets intake quite a bit but for special occasions, he gets little treats. Today was a big deal so we went for donuts. Thomas ate his allotted number before I got to eat mine so I had to hide in the laundry room to eat mine so he wouldn't see me and covet my donut. I've also hidden king cake in the laundry room. And anything with a straw....

About once a month or so, I have to have some Mommy time. Matt will come home and I'll lock myself in my room for about fifteen minutes and do something mindless. Fifteen minutes of reading a beach book. Fifteen minutes of exfoliating my face. Deep cleaning my bathroom. Anything for a few minutes of silence to recharge. It's draining, this whole parenting thing. I love being able to stay home with Thomas and all the time that we get to have together, but sometimes it's hard to keep up with his energy levels and his attention demands. Not to mention the work that pays the bills...

I love my little boy more than I ever thought possible. I'm exhausted but deliriously happy. It's possible that the delirium is from lack of sleep but the happiness remains. I'm so thankful to have him.

Giselle, on the other hand, is another story. She still rebels against me. STILL. I feed her every single day and she STILL prefers Matt. I just don't get it.

*Don't judge. Okay, go ahead and judge a little. Does it help if I tell you that it is a Harry Potter coloring book and my mother gave it to me for Christmas? No? I didn't think so.