VE RI TAS

We had a little family trip to Boston this weekend so the indomitable Ti Team could finish up some last minute requirements for the Halifax race.  Nattie and Bowen had some coursework to do, and I was just thankful I wasn't required to attend.  The ladies half of the consortium ventured off in all parts out of doors where fresh air, shopping, and starbucks drinking could be readily achieved.  While it was unreasonably gusty and cold as a....  something very frigid, we certainly made the rounds and great feats were accomplished with Little Dude bundled up, and happily enjoying being squired around by two fine ladyfolk. 

eventually something happened.  that left from Hereford to Boyleston.  trotting along with Owen in the lead, and headed straight for the library, there it was.  The finish of the start of the finish.  Getting into Boston is hard work.  if you're a serious recreational runner, one might say it's considered their life's work.  and it was mine.  My application was in.  I had my number.  it was all there in front of my eyes being handed to me by someone in white gloves on a silver platter.  I could already taste that beautiful BAA medal.  Aaaand then boom.  Gone.  So the irony of holding Owen over the finish line was not lost.  And then the boys picked us up, we had a wonderful dinner, laughs were had, and everything was perfect.

officially BSR-ready.

woah- where to start?  i'm not much of a holiday observer.  every single day is pretty much as arbitrary as the next... until you start throwing words like "Broad Street Run"  and "Boston Marathon" and "Antigua Classics" around.... and then we have a horse of an entirely different color.  And obviously my birthday is an international day of revelry, it being "Patriots" day and all.  My relations really cared a great deal about the American Revolution, I'm sure, whilst they were tending to their vineyards in southern Italy. 

but I've been invited to partake in some corned beef and cabbage tonight after boxing, so i'll happily arrive libations in one hand, and Owen in the next.  I also realize I've forgotten to wear green.

Regardless of times, dates, and anniversaries, March 17th is one day that I will not soon forget.  It was day one of a very long and uphill journey towards living pain-free, being re-mobile, and living a life of happiness and ease.  It was a time I made some intense discoveries (for example: is it possible to pick your eyeballs and lower jaw up off the floor when you're stuck in a hospital bed and cannot move?  and exactly what type of appetizers Zen Gardens in Dominica serves their guests for dinner)  mostly stuff that will never matter-  365 days later, I'm still climbing the ladder and preparing for Broad Street- as I have every year for the past 10.  Looking forward to returning to that lush green grass behind the stadium, and sprinting south for a brief ten miles with the sun and a smile on my face the entire way down.  There will be special people at the finish line this year- like my first BSR.... and as always, there will be a great party later on in the day.  but this year we'll have completely different reasons to celebrate.  and May 3rd, all are invited.       

I Yoga....ed....

  Thursday night was another snowstorm.  you know, just another one of our daily snowstorms up here in RI that we've been getting...  so kickboxing was cancelled. 

Saturday morning, I decided to head over to the gym for a "cardio/core" class- which I really liked.  and some yoga.  I own a LOT (when I say a LOT, I mean EVERYTHING.  because I work for them.) of Patagonia yoga gear so I dressed the part of a catalog model, packed up my mat and towel, and staked out my little piece of real estate on the hardwood.

the instructor asked if anyone was brand new.  I raised my hand.  she gave me the once over.  the up and down.  and frowned.  "you don't look like you've never done yoga." 

the answer was a half truth.  I have tried heated power yoga about a dozen times but I in no way consider myself to be a yoga...er.  yoger?  yogist?  It was all over when the shirtless guy next to me decided to drop his sweat off his fingertip onto my mat during warrior 3.  and I screamed in the middle of the class.  and all of the yoga people shot me nasty faces for ruining their zen.  okay.  it's gross!

I winced and explained that my running coach recommended it.  the guy next to me was already practicing his inversions and swinging from the ceiling.  show-off. 

so I can't do yoga.  I don't lack the strength or stamina.  I lack the balance and coordination.  I fell over.  a lot.  the Patagucci wasn't doing me any favors.  I'll stick with the kickboxing and long distance racing.  but I'll keep up with the yoga once a week.  on Saturday mornings.  mostly because that Patagonia gear looks extra adorable on me. 

  Owen is making lots of great strides recently in the development department.  mobility is a high priority for that little guy and adventure is his middle name.  his favorite texture is "crinkly" and his favorite food is... paper.  although if forced, mango, "apples & chicken" and bananas aren't so bad.  forget veggies.  he loves the sweet things.

  this morning while I was picking up the living room and Nathanael was reading the newspaper on the couch before work, Owen managed to crawl out of his bouncer seat, flip himself onto his stomach, and stand on the floor, holding himself against it.  his main endeavor was to venture off to the other side of the carpet, but was nervous to let go of the bouncer.  well, he did.  he fell and went boom.  learned a lesson.  cried for about a second (he wasn't hurt, just startled and unhappy about not being able to get back up)  Nat collected him and held him up long enough to help him "walk" around the room.

  he doesn't seem to be excited about crawling.  he definitely has the desire to walk first.  poor kid.