All in a day's run.

On May 21, Shane and I are running a half marathon.  But this is the deal with me and half marathons.  I did one (1) back in 2003.  I did not train, therefore it was the most horrible race I've ever done.  It was held in my hometown.  It meandered down the canyon, past many of my childhood friend's homes, only to finish at my high school.  During the course of my race, I let 90% of the running field pass me, including a girl who had never ran in her life.  I waited until I passed the 10 mile mark to eat the energy Gu I brought with me (brilliant.) I even talked to some of the houses of people I knew (or had known) growing up.  Not that any of those people were around for me to talk to, I just talked to their houses.

I've since sidelined myself from half marathons.  Every few months my sister will call me about a race she is considering.  She will ask if she should do it, and I (hypocritically) tell her she should, assure her that it's mostly mental (because it is) and wait to find out what the race is.  I haven't felt the pull to do a half marathon but have been her cheerleader (and have been happy to do it.  She is awesome and I 100% know she can do any and all races she decides to do.) 

But me, run a half?  I haven't really considered it.  I was semi-tempted to do the Halloween Half last Halloween, but I couldn't commit.  But Shane and I do this awesome marathon relay that goes along with the Ogden Marathon.  We are both on 5 man teams that will complete the distance of a marathon in 5 parts: a 7 mile, a 6 mile, two 5 miles, and a 3 mile leg will get our teams down the course.  Since the leg that Shane and I will run is right by the start of the half marathon, I somehow made the leap to choosing to finishing the race.  Plus, last year on my my first Ragnar leg, I psyched myself out. I don't want that to happen again, so training for a half was the perfect way to prepare for my real love, Ragnar.

It's amazing to find out that all that stuff I've been telling Amy is true.  I mean, I knew it was true when I told her, but I didn't believe it applied to me.  I've built up my miles over the past 2 months or so, and today was my last long run.  I parked at my kids school and set off.  But it was a weird weird run.  And this is why:  (and yes, it has taken a really long post to get to the point of the post.  How does that happen?)

• I might have made some annoying audible grunts.  I was running into the wind for the first hour.  I felt that if I made some noises, maybe the wind would take pity of me and stop blowing.  It didn't. So much for my hopes.  Hopefully no one heard my noises.
• I was on the lookout for people I knew, but I didn't know I was.  I therefore found myself running across a busy street to some complete strangers because I thought they were someone else.  Luckily they thought I was someone else too, so I wasn't completely embarrassed when I saw their faces and they weren't who I thought they were.
• In another mistaken identity incident approximately 7 minutes later, I took my earbud out and nearly yelled out "Jennifer!" at someone who 10 seconds later was obviously not Jennifer.  How do you casually put your earbud back in and make it not seem like you were going to talk to a complete stranger without them knowing?  Yeah, I don't know.
• I wouldn't have made it through without music.  I listened to Glee's version of Dog Days are Over more than was necessary, but it did what it needed to do, as did Little Red Corvette.  I had no idea until recently how naughty that song is.  Prince, you bad boy you with your talk of horses and jockeys. Tut tut.
• I've discovered that the perfect recovery activity is 5 minutes in an ice cold bath.  I used to know this, but it's been so many years since I've ran more than 4 or 5 miles so I'd forgotten how much it helps.  It's torture for the first few minutes, but my legs feel amazing the day after. 

So now I'm ready.  I can taper for the race.  I'm actually excited about the half.  And honestly: I've loved my long runs.  There is something about running on both well known and hardly known trails that is heartening. I love being able to say, I've ran the entire length of this road.  There is something empowering about running up my favorite hill having done 9 or 10 miles thanks to the steam of my own two feet.  And while most of it really is mental, the part that is undeniably physical feels pretty good, too.

I am not an extreme couponer and other random facts.

*   I am a full-price girl.  I watch the coupon shoes and I know that I am officially a Bad Mormon Wife because I don't get $800 worth of groceries for $12.  And I never will.

*   But I am going to get $50 to the Gap this month thanks to triple rewards and Ben's surgery last month (love my tax return going into my son's mouth.)  At least I can buy a new running jacket with the bounty from the windfall of bills. Wahoo!

*   In a freak accident that I don't want to get into the details of, I flushed a pair of underwear down the toilet last night.  I haven't had that big of a "oh sh*t" moment in a long time (no pun intended).  I just kind of stood there for a while and tried to figure out what to do.  I kept thinking I would have to call a plumber in to help me retrieve undies from my pipes.

*   Yes, you read that right. No, I don't want to explain it.  I am an idiot.

*   Gravity is my friend.  So far, I am still plumber-free.  Hoping it stays that way.

*   I was both mortified and amused when I told Shane about the underwear incident.  He knew something was up and took it in stride.  I don't know whether to be proud or mortified by this.  As he often says, "Patience with the Allman girls."  He's learned it all right.

*   Shane grabbed me around the waist tonight on a walk and it scared the crap out of me.  I punched him and somehow my bracelet jabbed into my wrist.  I now have a giant bruise and it's all swollen exactly how it was last fall when we crashed our car.  Can I explain just how much I hate being scared?  It makes me strangely angry and violent.

*   I love NPR.  Amy turned me on to it last month and I've been tuning in ever since.  I love all the stories you hear on it.  It's fascinating.  And now Shane is listening to it, too.  It seems so nerdy but I can't stop listening.

*   Saturday is Beltane.  I always thought this happened at the summer solstice, but I have been wrong all these years.  I wish I could start a bonfire and get all pagan.  However, I think I live too close to our neighborhood church to have any fertility rites in the backyard.  So Happy Beltane to you. You should celebrate it, bonfire or not.  And, if you aren't one of the approximately 1,968 pregnant or postpartum women in my life, maybe you can be after Saturday.  I'll even offer to bring you dinner in 9 months.

 As I seem to have gone from potty talk to bedroom humor, I sincerely hope I still have bloggy friends after this post.

So what is random with you?

An open apology:

Dear (fill in the blank),

If you live to the south, east, west, or north of me (or if, even worse, you were at the church and happened to look over) and were outside at approximately 6:33 p.m. this evening, I am sorry.  You see, Ben begged me to jump on the trampoline with him, and since I was already sweaty from Jillian Michaels, I decided to join him.

Yes, my legs are really, really white.  Yes, I was wearing a tank top.  Yes, I was attempted a few "moves," including a front handspring and a brandy (dang if I didn't have to put my hands down.  I'm a chicken!)  It just felt so awesome to be jumping. And Ben did laugh his head off when I was lucky enough to bounce him  up so high he could touch the top of the net.

But really, I'm lame on the tramp now, as evinced by all the times I landed on my butt instead of my feet.  I am a "woman over 35" after all. 

However, in retrospect, I apologize for all the bouncing.  You know what I mean.  I'll try to limit my future trampoline activities to non-day light hours.  Although, as a small victory, I did not pee (after two kids, you take what you can get.)  Who knew?

Love, Me.

Unto one he gave five talents, to another two, and to Ben, he gave nose picking.

I missed an opportunity last month that I didn't know I was missing.  It all centers around Ben's tongue.

It's kind of two things.  You see, for about a year, Ben had a large bump on the bottom of his tongue.  We first noticed it in January of 2010.  I finally screwed up the courage to pop it thanks to the encouragement of a good friend who is in the know about bumps on tongues.  I popped it with a pin. (As a side note, it was very, very satisfying to feel that tiny little give when the pin punctured the bump.  As someone who loves picking things, I enjoyed it more than I should have.)  The bump went away, but it came back, more stubborn than ever.  Two attempts were made to pop it in September, but there wasn't any satisfying pop.  It sat stubbornly on the bottom of his tongue.

Now, the second thing is a talent Ben had with his tongue.  It's kind of gross, but he could stick the end of his tongue in his nose.  (Kids do the grossest things!)  I caught him on numerous occasions enjoying the contents of his nose.  Ick.  I kind of got used to it after a while.

Now, fast forward to last month.  At the recommendation of our doctor, we had to have the bump removed from his tongue.  With the bump being on the bottom of his tongue, I never thought that it would change the shape and length of his tongue if it were to be removed.  But alas, it did.  His tongue, which used to be quite pointy and (obviously) dexterous is now a little more flat on the end. And thus, it is no longer an able instrument for nose picking.

I'm a little sad because I never got a picture of him doing it.  Yes, it was gross.  Yes, I wondered if the bump was caused by the very action he so enjoyed (I'm sure it wasn't, but it didn't take my mind long to get there.)  But, despicable as it was, it was my five-year-old Ben.  He will never be that little 5 year old, enjoying his nose with his tongue again.   It's just one more way that he's had to grow up. Sad, sad, sad.

Would you be sad?  Did your kids do disgusting things that you eventually looked back on with fondness? And, since we've been taught we have to use our talents so we don't lose them, will Ben be compensated with another?  He didn't give it up willingly, after all.

A welcome dinner guest

It doesn't happen often that I get casual, hang-out time with my family.  With the exception of the year that one of my sweet nieces lived 4 miles away from me, I live at least 30 miles from any of my sisters, and 50 from my parents. 

But as fate would have it, my mom needed a day away from her house, so after spending some time with my niece this afternoon, my mom came up and visited at my house for a while.  We drove the kids to their karate classes.  We stopped at the library for two of my holds (I am Number Four and The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake, in case you wondered).  I made some cookies and cooked dinner while she played dominoes and slap jack with Ben.  It was awesome.

I loved the casualness of it.  I loved Ben showing her magic tricks and Thomas showing his sparring moves.  It was fun talking about the snow storm (April 7th and snowing for crying out loud!) and the possibility of rag quilts with half square triangles (oh the madness!)

It was fun.  We ate chicken tacos and cookies and listened to my kids make inappropriate comments during dinner.  I liked having her make memories with us at our house, all unplanned, all unscripted.  I liked making dinner for her and having her eat with us.  (I made a lame attempt at a vegetable by sticking some baby carrots in a bowl on the table.  My mom never cooked a meal without a vegetable, so I was feeling a little self-conscious about my lack of edible greens on the table.) 

Sometimes it's nice to just have fun with your mom, right?

And, just in case you ever want an easy taco recipe, try this one:

Easy Chicken Tacos

1 large can chicken (I like the Sam's Club kind.)
4-6 ounces (or so) salsa
2-3 ounces sour cream
1 packet of Uncle Ben's Mexican Rice
Cheese
Soft taco shells
Angel hair cabbage

Drain the chicken and put in in a skillet pan.  Add salsa and sour cream, cook until warm and bubbly.  Cook rice according to the directions on the package.  Layer rice and chicken mixture in a soft taco shell with cheese, olives, cabbage (I prefer the angel hair cabbage to lettuce.  It give a most satisfying crunch!), and anything else you like on tacos.  They are warm and smooth and yummy on a cold, snowy spring night.  My kids tolerate them, but Shane and I (and I think my mom!) love them.

(Because great minds think alike, Britt and I had the same idea for posts today. Hers was first, so I feel like I'm copying, but I really did have inspiration to do this post today.  So check her awesome post out too.  It's okay...I'll wait.)

By now, you should all know about the beloved SDBBE book club I participate in.  I think this is the third year I've been swapping books with these awesome ladies (Apryl, Isabel, Amy, Jeanette, Britt - I love you all!  SDBBE fo-ev-ah.)  Well, we don't necessarily limit our conversations to the books we mail around.  Every now and then, a flurry of emails get sent around between us all.  My heart skips a beat when I open my email and I have multiple messages from these women.

Last night's emails were no exception.  I had made a post about Year of Wonders, and then Amy commented on it.  Then last night an email came from Amy about her discovery of a new Geraldine Brooks book - Caleb's Crossing.  I kept thinking about the name of the book but couldn't figure out why it seemed familiar.  Then this morning I opened up my library holds and there it was!  I put a hold on for it back in February, 3 months before its release date of May 3rd, 2011. 

I love my library system.  I use it (not as well as Britt does, as I only have my own library card number memorized, not my son or my husbands.  BTW - Britt - Nicky only needs to be 5 to get his card.  You're almost there!) on a weekly, if not more, basis.  Generally, I find a book that I want to read by trolling the Barnes and Noble website, starting with books that have been recommended on blogs or emails or random newspaper articles.  I carefully read the Kirkus and Library Journal reviews for the book and then place my hold.  It takes some time, but it's worth it. There have been times in my life, whole months in fact, where I read book after book after book from my hold list with nary a one that I set aside unfinished.  Ah, the mecca of book reading.

But anyway, as much as I love describing my process for finding books, I wanted to share my current library holds list.  I have 7 that I am still waiting for.  I picked up 2 last week that I have yet to read (Juliet by Anne Fortier and Bitter in the Mouth by Monique T.D. Truong.)

I am waiting for:

Caleb's Crossing by Brooks, Geraldine
A Discovery of Witches by Harkness, Deborah E.
Dreams of Joy by See, Lisa
I am Number Four by Lore, Pittacus
The Peach Keeper by Allen, Sarah Addison
The Tiger's Wife by Obreht, Téa
The Weird Sisters by Brown, Eleanor

I am most likely to get I am Number Four the soonest.  Two (Caleb's Crossing and Dreams of Joy) aren't released yet.  I am excited to read the Sarah Addison Allen book; her books remind me of the way Alice Hoffman books used to feel: magical and in tune with nature, with quirky, memorable, lovable characters.  I'm anxious to read A Discovery of Witches; it keeps showing up in the NYT bestseller list week after week; I hope that it's good and that I don't regret not buying it.

So, do you love your library?  Are you obsessed with putting holds on books?  I must say that I sometimes want to pinch myself for the luck of living in proximity of such a great county library system.  It is the perfect mix of small-town library feel and sophisticated and varied literary availability.  Who can complain about that?