Almost an athlete

On Sunday I did something a little crazy.  A little being not all that shocking for me....but the type of crazy that when you tell someone else they almost always immediately reply that they would never do that.  I ran a half-marathon.  Not just me, but loads of my family.  Together we did the Quad City Marathon.  Why in the world would I do this you ask?  I'm not 100%.  As it turns out I married into a family with runners.  If you guys are friends with runners or have one in your family then you know they LOVE IT.  Not a normal amount of enjoyment from a typical hobby, but full-on love.  I don't know that I'm there yet....but I am trying....my damndest. 

I started running last year in hopes of becoming less of a McFatkins.  Lest you think I have some kind of body dysmorphia where I see myself looking like Jabba the Hutt, I don't.  I just think it would be nice to not have to worry about a tight shirt getting caught in my below-the-bra-back-fat crease (which is thankfully gone).  You know what I'm talking about.  You've seen one.   Anyway, I digress...I started running last year with the goal of finishing a 5K, which is a little over 3 miles.  I did that.  Twice.  I liked it for the most part.  I have been running on and off since.  I decided to do a few 5K's this summer so I had every intention of continuing my efforts.  At the end of May my sister-in-law Katie emailed to see if Zac and I wanted to do the Quad City Half while my brother-in-law ran the full marathon.  I pretty much immediately said no.  Katie assured me I could do it, while simultaneously convincing a majority of my brothers and sisters to also run it.  I still insisted no.  Then Zacman come home and announced that he told Katie that we would, which shot to crap my refusal.  

Katie emailed me a training plan (as she is a personal trainer and avid runner) and I tried to follow it mostly.  I failed lots, but was proud the days I did my long runs.  I ran 6 miles, I ran 8 miles.  I ran, and that's what counts.  I felt as good as I could feel on Sunday (considering where we were supposed to have breakfast was closed and in my nervousness only slept about 4 hours).  By 7am we were in Moline,   killing time in the only warm building there was.  

Back row is Me, Chris, and Zacman

Front is Lolla, Sara, Brendan, and Katie

The race started at 7:30 and there were so many people we were 4 minutes in before I crossed the start line.  Everything went well until the end of the 2nd mile when I had to stop to tie my shoes.  Suck. Here's a little tip, don't change your routine on race day.  I tried new socks.  Bad idea.  They were not as thick as my cotton socks = slipping around in my shoes.  At mile 4 I finally felt like I had hit my stride but by mile 5 I had blisters on the arches of both feet.  Also sucky.  At mile 8 it rained just enough to make my shirt damp.  Then from mile 11.5-13 it poured.  Like squishy shoes and ringing out your shirt rain.  I was feeling pretty gimpy by mile 10, so rain was not a very welcome addition for me.  There was a bridge just before the finish and I got a cramp in my foot running up it which made me limp a bit, but I decided if I could see the finish line I would run  and that just what I did.  

New additions are Jordan and Dan (Brendan and Sara's half sister and brother-in-law)

After I crossed the finish I found Zac, told him my feet hurt lots to which he replied "Yeah, you look pretty pissed."  Apparently my hurt face is similar to my angry face, just in case you are wondering.  After the race we went to Denny's, then drove back to Zac's parents house for a quick shower before the journey home.  We decide to stop and grab a frozen pizza for dinner since neither of us had any intention of moving much and Zac said the idea of washing dishes was "awful."   We stopped at the grocery store and were quite the pair.  I hobbled around on my blister feet while Zac walked with his legs 3 feet apart searching for the goldbond (poor Zac chafed from wet underpants, thanks rain).   Ha-larious!

The aftermath has been minimal.  With as sore as my feet were on Sunday afternoon/night, I was shocked that I felt nearly 100% on Monday.  I did have a gimpy right foot, that I worried about a little til I reviewed my anatomy book and decided it was muscular.  I rubbed that muscle lots on Monday night and it's almost all gone today.  I'm glad to say I did it.  I'm even more glad it's over.  I was disappointed that it took me so long to finish, but I can't decide if my ego is reason enough to do it again next year.  We will see I guess.  For now, I'm going to settle for being almost athletic. 

Patients say the darndest things.

 Let me tell ya, patients do and say really random things.  

Tuesday, before my office manager left for lunch, she told me there was a guy coming in that had been in before but not for years.  He apparently told her that he got drunk on Saturday and rolled his car 6 times and his shoulder had been killing him since. 

 I looked at Connie shocked.  Who seriously calls and says "I was doing something clearly illegal with a highly negative stigma, I hurt myself and now I really need to get in....can you fix me around 3?"  So I asked Connie, "He just said that?  That he was drinking and driving and wrecked himself?"  To which Connie said, "Well, he said he was out Saturday night and got really abbreviated and wrecked."  

Ha! Classic!  I should not have been shocked that the drunk driver was also the guy that said he got abbreviated instead of inebriated. Apparently he didn't wreck a car, but rather a Rhino type vehicle.  He still got a lecture about drinking and operating anything on wheels.  

The moral of this story, don't drink and drive!

If you do, there is a good chance you will hurt your self, or be attested, I mean arrested.   

Please take a minute to help

My mother-in-law Lolla (like Lollapalooza) sent me a link to this article the other day.  I read it and immediately got the urge to do whatever I could to help.  I donated, now I am blogging, then I will Facebok it.  I hope that you do the same things I've done.  

The article is about a family, Zac and Erin Harland, that has dedicated themselves 100% to adopting a little girl with Down Syndrome from Equador.  As we all know, adoption is not a cheap or easy thing to do.  This family has been having a rough time as the adoption agency they are working with is having some accreditation problems.  The family had a fundraiser this weekend and is trying their darndest to not let the circumstances and frustration of the delays get to them.  You can read more about them and their story here.  Please hop on over to Erin's blog, give what you can, and leave a note to help raise this family up as they work to do what God has called them to do!

True devotion, the kind that is pure and faultless before God the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their difficulties and to keep the world from contaminating us.

James 1:27

Get ready to smile

Somedays I am overwhelmed with what I need to finish in a day.  It seems I wake up with a list a mile long and it just gets longer.  Today was a little bit like that.   Luckily I got most of my stuff done.  On my list was a client piece of artwork.  I tell ya, I love being somewhat of a freelance artist.....more to the point I love being somewhat of an artist.  Most of all I love that when someone asks me to do a painting, I know that they like my silly, wonky sense of what's perfect.  This little guy, is perfect.  Meet Yankee, he is a fainting goat and my newest muse. 

His goat mom, Jill, saw a very wonky cow painting I did for a friend's show and loved it.  She promptly requested I see her facebook page and paint a goat for her.  As I flipped through her pictures at work one day I laughed out loud when I landed on his handsome mug.  I knew I'd found the goat that I should paint.  I finally got around to getting it done (after I promised to do it over the holiday weekend and forgot) and I am SO in love with the outcome.  This is my version of the sweet mister Yankee.

I also laughed out loud at the Yankee I painted.  I love this painting so much I wish I could keep it myself!  I can only hope my kids will see my stuff one day and see that my silly folk art is not picture-perfect reproductions or realistic drawings of what is directly in front of me, but rather painting from the heart and that's what makes it wonderful.  I sent Jill the picture and she and her husband agree, it has captured Yankee.  Another happy client and one more thing marked off my list.  It's a good way to end the day! 

P.S.  if you need a smile, hop on over to Jill's Facebook page and flip through the pictures of her darling little goats.  They will make your day!

Idiosyncrasy

Zac does things that make no sense.  Whatsoever.  For a long time it drove me crazy and I would constantly ask him to stop it.  He didn't.  He still doesn't.  I've accepted it because it's really not worth an arguement.  What things you ask?  Exhibit A:  Zac's pajamas (yeah, I know, they are cargo shorts, you can read more about his ridiculousness here) in the kitchen, taking up a space at the table.  This is everyday.  Why he continues to do this I don't know.  Why he doesn't get dressed in the bedroom since he's getting up at a normal hour now, I don't know.  But this is what he does, undresses in the kitchen and leaves his pajamas, which I then move to the bedroom, everyday.  

The other silly thing he does, puts things near where they go, but not exactly where they go.  Case in point, the change jar on his bedside table.  So close, yet so far away.  Also notice the glass of tea.  He takes a drink to bed every night, then leaves it in the bedroom until the next evening.  Then he replaces it with a fresh drink.  I still am not sure why he doesn't take it with him to the kitchen when he goes there to get undressed in the morning.  I think I'll never know. 

This is the thing that drives me the most crazy.  

This is a shot of the inside of Zac's closet and the bedroom.  This I used to get so pissed over.  I would think I had all the laundry done, go to put stuff away, and then find a pile of laundry in Zac's closet.  As you can see, the basket is right there.  Right there!  I told Zac that if he didn't stop, we were fighting.  That didn't work.  I also threatened to stop doing his laundry and to slap him to the ground.  He called my bluff on both. 

I have come to terms with Zac's idiosyncrasies.  I have my own.  I like to leave kitchen cabinet doors open.  I also like to spread my projects all over the kitchen table for weeks at a time (I am working on them...but it is a mess).  I also like to switch sides of the bed on a whim.  I guess if he can deal with my 75 degree comfort zone and my taking over of his bathroom sink, then I can deal with his smelly feet and his inability to fold a towel correctly.  That's marriage people and what love is really about.