Breaking down the big, hairy, scary goals.

My child recently looked at me with that look of panic in the eyes while trying to complete a homework assignment. I could hear the thoughts without the words ever being uttered, "It's too hard. I can't do this. I'm going to fail." 

We all have those thoughts, and in the moment they can feel devastating. So I tell my child what I try to tell myself when I need it, "those that CREATE success have one thing in common: they break down their big hairy scary monster of a goal into smaller more manageable goals."

Whether it's completing a major school assignment, getting a new client at work, or losing weight and getting healthy, the steps to success are fundamentally the same. 

For example, if you want to lose 50 pounds you may think it'll never happen. But consider how much easier it would seem if you narrowed your focus to losing those first 10 pounds. If that seems too far off, break it down further to five, maybe even one pound, or perhaps simply celebrate that first 30-minute workout you made it all the way through even if you had to modify some of the exercises. Breaking down our big hairy scary goals into smaller ones gives us a sense of accomplishment which allows us to keep moving ahead. 

Together, my child and I took a deep breath and decided what the first step should be. It wasn't too long after when that same child looked up at me with those big excited brown eyes and exclaimed, "I'm done!" (Insert choir of angels here.)

When you're a kid, or frankly anyone who has a big hairy scary monster of a goal, it seems so incredibly daunting, if not altogether impossible, at the start. Doubt is a powerful thing. Believe in yourself. That's the key. Believe in yourself and you WILL get there. I believe in you. xo

Never Give Up

Have you heard the story of the runner who forgets to pack her running sneakers and doesn't realize it until it's too late to go back for them? 

I've often wondered how someone could forget something so important. 

Yet, as I was unpacking in the hotel last night, the awful truth struck me: my running sneakers were not among my morning race gear but, in fact, back at home. Noooooooooooo!

So many thoughts raced through my apparently addled brain...

Can I go home and get them? -- Ugh, no, I didn't drive my own car.

Does this mean I can't run the race I've trained for the last few months? -- No way, not an option. 

Should I try to run in my Converse flat bottomed sneakers, which, as cute as they are, aren't even all that comfortable for walking long distances? -- Images of cute sneaks covering not-so-cute bloodied feet quickly came to mind. Gross, no. 

And still more. What time is it? Are stores still open here in Brooklyn? Can I get lucky enough to find my trusty Asics nearby?

In a mild yet growing panic, I headed down to the hotel concierge to tell them my embarrassing tale and find out my limited options. 

My first three shopping attempts were met with steel bar-covered doorways and darkened windows. At the suggestion of my friend we headed to one last option and, with only ten minutes left until closing, we grabbed a pair of sneakers off the rack. Definitely not my usual brand, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

Long story short, I guarantee this is a mistake I will NEVER make again. 

I didn't earn myself a PR but finished in a very respectable time nonetheless. 

Never Give Up. 

Even when your knees are throbbing and you have eight miles still to go...even when you feel the blisters forming....

If you can still put one foot in front of the other, keep going until you cross that finish line. You'll be glad you did. 

I know I am. 

Five Fun Facts from the Pawling Tri

This past weekend I participated in my first "sprint" triathlon in Pawling, NY. It was an amazing experience for me, one that, had you asked me when I first signed up for the race, I was not sure I'd be able to complete.

As athletic as I've become in the last couple years, I am NOT a swimmer. Don't get me wrong, I can hold me own in a pool, because at a moments notice I can grab hold of one of the sides, but I never go in a lake without a life jacket buckled, usually in three separate places, safely around me. Call it peace of mind. Call it safety. Call it what it is: I don't want to drown.

Since life jackets are not allowed in a triathlon (silly, rules!) I decided I might need some practice. In retrospect, I probably should have considered it long before. But after doing my first practice swim in a nearby lake only two weeks prior to the race, I quickly realized I needed help. Professional help. And FAST.

So I called in a favor to my wonderful cousin, Crissy Lemieux, who just so happens to be a swim coach, and arranged my very first lesson a few days later. The lesson went pretty well, giving me more confidence with my swim form and strokes. (Thanks, Coach!) Now all I had to do was transfer that knowledge out of the pool and into the murky lake water. Easier said than done.

I did two more practice swims of the same third of a mile distance as the upcoming race, but never quite completed the full distance without at least once stopping or touching bottom. I was disappointed in myself and, needless to say, still extremely nervous.

On the morning of the race I awoke earlier than usual to the sounds of birds singing just outside my window. It took about three seconds before my brain registered the date and my heart began a sprint of its own. From that point on I was a walking, talking bundle of nerves.

The butterflies-turned-angry-birds flapping in my stomach did not dissipate on my way to the race, and were even captured in the photo above just as the first wave of swimmers was entering the water. (I'm the one bent over in silent prayer.) I took a few deep breaths and as the gun signaled our own start time, my legs began to carry me forward as everyone around me began their strokes.

My nerves instantly switched gears, straight to survival mode. I spent the next seventeen minutes trying desperately to avoid being kicked in the face, choking on lake water, and going off course--all while being lapped by other waves of swimmers and trying to avoid the ropes or buoys so I wouldn't inadvertently be disqualified.

I knew as soon as I made it out of the water I'd won what I set out to do. My family and friends cheered my name and, though as I stepped on shore I felt like Bambi first learning to walk, I knew I completed the lofty goal I'd set for myself.

I love seeing the Before and After pics above, because it reminds me how triumphant I felt finishing what was, for me, the hardest leg of the race. I hope it can also be a reminder to anyone else who thinks they can't do something, whatever it is, to just try. You will be amazed at the strength you'll find within yourself, if you give yourself a chance and dig deep. I believe in you...

...and now I even believe in myself too.

Here are Five Fun Facts I learned from my first triathlon experience:

#1:
It's best not to pack up your wetsuit during the transition time. No one will take your belongings and you will waste several valuable minutes. (Oops!)

#2:
Only first timers use a hybrid during the bicycle portion of the race. Many first timers have been known to borrow or even rent road bikes to greatly improve their time. (Oops!)

#3:
Seemingly strong and energetic legs turn to logs you are forced to lift with every step during the last section of the race. (Holy crabgrass!)

#4:
You can do ANYTHING you set your mind to. All you have to do is want it bad enough. If others tell you that you can't do it, or that you shouldn't bother trying because you might get hurt, use their comments as fuel to push yourself closer to your goal. Surround yourself with positive people who are working toward a similar goal. You CAN do it!

#5:
As lovely as it is to receive a medal at the end of a race, keep in mind, the only thing that truly matters is how you feel afterward. Did you accomplish something new for yourself? Did you do your best and give it your all? Well, then you're a winner in my book! 

What will your next challenge be for yourself? Please share in the comments below. I'd love to cheer you on!

Making progress. One day at a time.

Confession time. I ate a lot of cookies over the holidays. I also made and ate A LOT of my very favorite chocolate/peanut butter bars (not the "healthy" granola kind either, in case you were wondering). The kind made with butter and powdered sugar, and other not-so-great things. I couldn't stop myself. They just teased me sitting on my counter, or in my fridge, and even later when I moved them to my freezer. Who was I kidding with that move anyway? 

Am I the only person who thinks it's better to eat all the crap themselves than, God forbid, throw it away and (gasp!) waste perfectly good food? I know I'm not alone here. Please, tell me I'm not.

Ironically, I watched the documentary "Fed Up" last night which discussed the growing obesity rate in America, Diabetes in children, and the general overuse and addiction of sugar. One thing that struck me was a study which showed lab mice being given a choice between cocaine and sugar water, and they chose the sugar water...every time. All of a sudden I realized I am the little white mouse and instead of sugar water it's kettle corn. (Not the microwave kind. This junk food junkie has her standards after all. The pre-made variety as if it came from the county fair. If only. At least then the indulgence would be but once a year.) I had to stop buying it or I'd eat the entire bag...every time. It's not surprising to hear sugar can be considered as harmful as a drug. As it turns out I, too, am fed up. With myself. 

So why am I telling you this? Well, for one, if you say a goal out loud or write it down then you are more likely to stick to it. Also, I need to admit to myself, I have a problem. I am addicted to unhealthy sweets. There, I said it. 

Am I obese? No.  Far from it some would say. But can I say with 100% certainty I am healthy on the inside though I appear so on the outside? I cannot. 

Therefore, starting now, I will not eat the crap just because it's there. 

I have will power and WILL resist the temptations that come my way. Damn. I just remembered I have Bunco in two days and there is always a treat within reach, but no matter...

I will stay strong. 

Will I be perfect? Probably not. And that's okay.

I will make better choices.

I will become a healthier eater. 

Because I am worth it. 

And so are you. xo

My Fitness Journey

When I turned 40 I joined a gym and was committed to getting back in shape after 2 kids and a lot of excuses. I was good for a year, signed up again, and slowly lost my motivation to keep it up. I cursed myself for letting my monthly gym fees go to waste. 

The following year, just as I was debating whether to rejoin the gym scene or not, I discovered P90X. I decided in the time it would take me to travel to and from the gym, I could be halfway through a workout at home so I went for it. 

I won't kid you. It was hard. And at the start of the program I truly struggled to get through a lot of the moves, but by the end I was proudly keeping up with Tony Horton and his gang. I completed the full 90 days of the P90x program and felt AWESOME. 

After recently turning 45 (gasp!) I've re-committed myself into getting into shape once more. I love that the newest Beachbody programs push me in only 30 minutes and I can go about my day knowing I've started it off on the right track. Incorporating delicious, nutrient-packed shakes into my routine has been the easiest and best part of it. Chocolate for breakfast is crazy good!! 

But what can I say, I'm practical. Actually, that's code for cheap. I will gladly spend money on my husband and family, but not myself for some bizarre reason. In order to (self-) justify my new hobby, I became a coach for a discount on the shakes and all my future workout programs. As a coach I didn't need to be a fitness professional, or a sales person (which I'm definitely not) just have a love of the products which I definitely had...and still have.

With the help of a friend and fellow coach, we created our first joint challenge group. This was a group of amazing women who all had their own fitness and health goals. We supported each other every day with online check-ins. Many of us picked a brand new program that incorporated daily 30-minute home workouts with clean eating for 21 days. After the first week on the program I was shocked to see I'd lost 2 inches in my waist! I kept it off and completed the program having lost 2.7 pounds and 4-1/4 inches overall! Everyone in the challenge group was so excited by their results we all decided to go another round! 

This month we'll be starting a new challenge group and look forward to seeing more great feedback and success stories from the challengers. Everybody has their own goal. Whether it's to lose 50 lbs or 5, to tone up and see muscle definition, or simply to like who you see staring back at you in the mirror each day. 

If you have something you'd like to work on, be sure to let me know. I'd be happy to help find a program that can fit your goals and fitness level. I may be 45, but I'm a happier, stronger person than I ever was in my 20s. And you can be too. The hardest part is deciding, and saying, " today's the day I'm going to start making it happen!" xo, A

When did everything become such a problem?

I'm not sure when it happened exactly, but seemingly overnight an overwhelming majority of people (under the age of thirty mostly, but don't hold me to it) have swapped the polite and simple phrase of "you're welcome" for a new turn of phrase: 

"No problem." 

If you've not yet experienced this phenomenon, well, you need to get out more. 

It's everywhere.

Give it a try the next time you're at the deli counter in your local supermarket. 

Order your half pound of what have you and say "thank you" as it's passed to you over the counter. I guarantee nine out of ten times the response you will hear will be, "no problem." 

Hearing this in retail is where it irks me the most. 

No problem? Really? You're doing your job. One for which you are being paid. 

So, I ask you, where exactly is the problem? 

Why add a negative connotation to something where there shouldn't be one? 

Perhaps it's the English major in me. But it's maddening, I tell you, MADDENING!

Recently I was at the doctor's office and the nurse asked me if I was taking any medications. I told her and she said, "no problem." 

Huh? 

Are we so ingrained all of a sudden with using this particular word choice we are now applying it everywhere, even when it makes no sense? 

Or was that her way of thanking me for answering a simple question? 

The worst part is I've actually caught myself using it too! 

After doing a favor for a friend, instead of just saying, "you're welcome," I heard myself uttering those dreaded two words. 

As soon as they brushed past my lips, I cringed. 

I wanted to call them back in, but it was too late. 

And, for me, that was a problem.

Newport and The Cheer Squad

Last month, in Newport, RI, I completed my second half marathon (within the same year I'll add: Toot, Toot!) As I only had the Disney Princess Half for comparison, I was nonetheless amazed by a few of the differences.

Disney, as one might expect, runs a finely tuned event. At each water and fuel station one could easily spot a medical tent equipped with various pain relief items and trained personnel. Such personnel were virtually absent in Newport, with the exception of an occasional ambulance sighting. On more than one occasion in Newport I passed distressed runners, on the ground at the side of the road, often with a stranger and a cell phone calling for assistance. No doubt Disney would have had smiling, if not singing, staff on hand to come to your aid before you could spell out, "M-I-C-K-E-Y." Okay, I may be exaggerating, but you get the idea. Plus one for Disney.

As far as scenery goes, the Newport race lived up to it's claim of being among the "Top 5 Half Marathons on the East Coast." In fact, it greatly surpassed my experience at Disney. Though there are numerous Disney characters to be found along the course for photo opps, I was there to run. Through Disney. Imagine my surprise when I discovered the Princess Half Marathon course took me past the largest Hess gas station I've seen to date. Not exactly the picturesque Disney landmark or refueling station I needed to keep me going.

After rounding the Epcot globe in the final home stretch, we were directed though a back alley with trash receptacles. (That's Disneyspeak for dumpsters.) This is Disney, for crying out loud...the most magical place on Earth! Doesn't trash simply disappear with a wave of Mickey's wand? I've just run 13 miles...shouldn't scents of cotton candy, pancakes, or cinnamon rolls be piped in for all us sunrise runners? Humidity laden, ripe garbage was hardly in my olfactory race plans.

Newport, on the other hand, revealed breathtaking scenery at every mile. It had been many years since I'd visited this beautiful and historic city and I was delighted to be able to run through the streets and gaze upon areas I had either forgotten with time or never traversed. Historic forts, college campuses, multi-million-dollar estates, and ocean views were aplenty. When you need distractions at every step, salty air and rich history outweighs stinky garbage and gas stations EVERY time! Plus one for Newport.

Don't get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoyed the overall Disney experience as a half marathon first timer. In case you missed it, here's a glimpse of my Disney run: I Ran Like a Princess...Sort of. It's only now that I've doubled my half marathon experience that I can confidently nit pick. :-)

At Disney they have something called the "ChEAR Squad" where your friends and loved ones can fork over upwards of $100 per person to cheer you on in comfort and style. (Mickey Ears sold separately.) I'm not sure how popular this is since my already uber-stylish friends were running with me and my family was in the comfort of our family room back in CT. Yet it's a magical place indeed that can convince spectators to pay money to join a team to watch a race..... 'Nuf said. In Newport we had our own special cheer squad, no registration required, who even brought us pre-race gifts (we are princesses after all!) along with all the encouragement we could ask for, and then some! Plus one for Newport and the CT Princesses!

If I have to be honest I should mention package pick up in Newport was far worse than at Disney. The lines were very long unless you were running the marathon, in which case you were allowed to bypass the line altogether. However, long lines make for some interesting conversations and opportunities to make new friends, including Guinness World Record Holder 1,000-Marathon Larry! Plus one more for Larry!

Though I'd personally love my next half marathon (did I really just say next?) to be at a new location, Newport is certainly one to put on any runner's race list. Wherever you go, be sure to bring your own cheer squad.

Because there's nothing more magical than accomplishing a goal with great friends by your side!

Poison Ivy Should Be a Four Letter Word.

Last week I discovered a little poison ivy. Of all places on my lip. Within a couple hours it spread to my chin. Wanting to nip this potential problem in the bud, I called my doctor's office and made an appointment for the next day. My mission was to get on Prednisone STAT because though I don't get poison ivy often, when I do it's B-A-D.

Each year I vow to put away my weeding gloves once and for all so as never to feel this silent form of torture again. Although it's possible I acquired this from yard work, given my history, I am pretty careful about avoiding the dreaded leaves of three. Plus, while out biking last week, I specifically remember riding past someone who was weed whacking and didn't feel the need, or the kindness, to turn off his weed whacker as we rode straight through his flying debris. Note to self (and my fellow biking companion): next time, let's cross to the other side of the road. I'd rather risk oncoming cars than deal with this again!

I guess it makes no difference how I acquired poison ivy. All that matters is how to get rid of it now that it's gotten a chokehold over me and won't let go.

So there I am, one day after seeing the first signs of itch, at the doctors office with new patches on my neck to offer as evidence of my predicament. I am given two choices. I can either take Prednisone for the next 10 days, or be given a one-time shot. Both, I'm assured work equally well. Um, hello? No brainer. Give me the shot. 

A few hours go by. I'm back at home and itchy as all hell. In fact, this might be what Hell is like; having eternal poison ivy and a counter full of products that offer little to no relief. I've purchased and tried nearly every product on the market, including a suggested poison ivy wash (sold OTC for, get this, 35 bucks!). What can I say, I was desperate and hoping beyond hope 'you get what you pay for.' Sadly, it offered only brief relief until I used it all up...after only two showers.

Somehow I made it through the weekend, only slightly distracted by my daughter's birthday and a mild Benadryl haze. But first thing this morning I called my doctor's office again and was given another appointment.

I tell my doctor I felt no comfort after the first shot she gave me. With a sympathetic ear she informs me I'm her very first patient to ever return for a second shot. Lucky me. A poison ivy magnet. So I receive another shot and a much-begged-for prescription for topical cortisone. God help me. Let this work! 

Even now as I write this, five days after the first shot and nine hours after the second, I am gouging my skin like I have an army of ants picnicking just under the surface. I sit here and wonder a) if I was given a placebo in first shot, b) how much longer will it take for this itching to call a cease fire on my limbs, and c) if I hadn't gotten the shots at all, how much worse would I be feeling? 

Strangely there is always some comfort in knowing it could be worse. And all it takes is once visit to the world wide web to see how much worse it could actually be. So, as I peruse pictures and tales of woe way worse than mine, I'll quit my _itching. For now. 

As soon as I can stop rubbing my skin raw and I venture back outdoors, whether in my yard or on my bike, I'll surely be whispering, "Leaves of three, LET ME BE!!!!"

The Joy of Crutches - Part 2

Who knew so much fodder could come from being on a pair of crutches. In continuation with my previous post, here goes the list of what I've learned since being on crutches:

11. "Gimp," "Crip," "Invalid," and the like are not names those of us on crutches find endearing. In case you're unsure, stay on the safe side by refraining from anything other than, perhaps, "Hey, Girl! Look at you rockin' the crutches!" 

12. Rain + Crutches = A Recipe for Disaster. Or another trip to the doctor. There should be a warning label that comes on the crutches that states, "slippery when wet." Scratch that. "When wet, prepare for a fall" would be more apropos!

13. I don't know why, but I'm continually surprised when people say the stupidest things. Here's one such example. After witnessing me nearly wipe out from a rain + crutch incident, someone actually looked at me and remarked, "Do you really need those?" Seriously, lady?! Do these look like props? It took all my restraint not to find a new use for one of my crutches right then and there in the lobby of my children's school!  

14. Travelling up and down my stairs at my new with-crutches pace has made me realize just how badly the carpet needs a cleaning! Great. Another thing to add to my growing list of post-crutches chores!  

15. Strangers and casual aquaintances still hold doors and carry items more than my own beloved family. Hmmm.

16. When you're feeling a little down, it's always good to remember somewhere out there is probably someone worse off than you. Take the female from #13. I'll be off my crutches shortly, but she'll still be an ignoramous!

17. My doctor told me I could get off crutches the day I leave for vacation, but then suggested crutches or a cane would push me ahead in airport security lines. If a fractured hip was the universe's way of telling me to slow down the last six weeks, I'll gladly wait my turn with all the other able-bodied folks, thank you very much!

18. Imagine my dismay when I learned, in addition to a few of my heels, I'd have to set aside my favorite pairs of jeans until I can lose the crutches. Who'd a thunk knuckles could be so easily bloodied from rhinestones, rivets, and bling!

19. One trip to the mall with only ONE stop is equivalent to taking 30 laps around my house. Just when I thought I couldn't detest shopping any more...!

20. I finally met my match at my grandmother's 90th birthday party when I walked in beside a lady with a walker. Now THAT would have been a fun race!



See you soon...on two feet!

Crutches Are Only Fun When You're 16.

Quick update since my last post. It turns out I ran my half marathon in Disney with a stress fracture on my hip. This fun fact landed me on crutches for the next six weeks.

Here's what I've learned since being on crutches:

1. Going upstairs is far scarier than going downstairs because you can't see where you're going to land when you're falling backwards!

2. Crutches should come with kickstands. Or wriststraps. Or be padded in felt because no matter how carefully you place them, they inevitably fall to the ground!

3. When you realize you've forgotten to put on your deodorant for the day, it's easier to use your son's Right Guard from the downstairs bathroom and smell like a "cool breeze" than take another trip upstairs!

4. Strangers are more willing to help you (holding doors, picking up dropped items, etc) than your own family!

5. It's better to be on crutches in the winter when you can layer on the clothes for extra padding against your ribs/side, but even then it's good to remember, Body Glide is not just for runners!

6. "Wanna Race?" is only funny if the person asking you is also on crutches!

7. Being on crutches is only fun when you're sixteen and your friends carry your books for you!

8. Crutches should be paired with backpacks...or one of those As-Seen-on-TV grabber tools because holding onto anything extra other than a tissue is damn near impossible! (See #7.)

9. A 24-ounce container of water can be carried in a sports bra whenever necessary. (See #7.)

10. Anyone looking for a new product patent idea: A cupholder would be a great improvement to any set of crutches - think baby stroller or carseat options - because #9 is only appropriate in the privacy of your own home!

Considering all this was gleaned from only being on crutches for ten days, imagine how much I'll have to share after the full six weeks is up! God help us all!!

I Ran Like a Princess...Sort of.

This past weekend I got on a plane to Orlando with two good friends and met up with five others. Our big plans did not include lounging by a pool and sipping drinks all weekend, but to complete the lofty goal we individually (though peer pressure may have played a part) set for ourselves: to run the Disney Princess 1/2 Marathon.

For several days leading up to our race weekend, our group shared tips on hydration, pre- and post-race nutrition, and the benefits of electrolytes, all in the hopes that this new found knowledge would help us cross the finish line. We were, for the most part, novices still in disbelief that we signed up for this race to begin with, and finally here it was, about to begin.

The crazy thing about running a Disney race is that it all takes place before the parks open to the public. Even crazier, 26,000 people actually willingly agree to get up at 2:00 in the morning, board buses in the dark, and make their way to the corrals where the nerves start to kick in full force. (Our alarm clock, pictured here.)

One thing's for sure. Disney knows how to pull off an event of this magnitude, complete with jumbo trons, celebrity sightings (Ali Vincent from The Biggest Loser and Sean Astin from The Goonies to name a couple), and fireworks.

I knew I was in for a greater challenge because I'd been running with an undiagnosed hip injury for ten days leading up to the race and it was bothering me even prior to the start.

Yet there's something about watching the Fairy Godmother wave her magic wand, casting a good luck spell over all the runners, and then hearing a blast of fireworks to signal the start of the race to make a gal forget her aches and pains!

Although the sun had not yet risen, it was 70 degrees and nearly 100% humidity with heat warnings posted on the race website. These warnings didn't mean much to us as we awaited the start of the race at 5:45 am but a few miles into the race I started to understand the toll humidity can take on a runner. (Can you say, "waaaaaaatttter"??)

I have to admit, once the race got going, I used nearly everything available on the course to help propel me through. This included water and/or Powerade about every mile and a half or so, Tylenol when I developed a headache at mile four, BioFreeze on my knees when they started to ache around mile five, and again later on for each my calves and quads. Aching hip and knees aside I was feeling pretty good. Turns out, running into the Magic Kingdom, down Main Street, and through Cinderella's Castle -- all while spectators and Disney employees cheer you on along the way -- is a great motivator.

There are many opinions about stopping for the many character photos available during the race, but I had decided upfront not to run with my phone so I wouldn't be tempted. I didn't stop for a single photo opp and it felt good to pass those who stopped to stand in line for pictures. Granted, a great many of them probably run at a faster pace and still reached the finish line ahead of me, but I couldn't imagine slowing my time down any further by stopping. That's just me.

Along the thirteen-point-one-mile route there were tons of spectators, family members and friends of runners, many of whom either clapped, cheered, or waved signs of support. Here are a few of my favorite signs:

"I See a Pedicure in Your Future"
&
"Mind over Muscles"
(from the Luna bar company)

"Like I Good Sports Bra, I Support You"

"I Got Up at 3am Just to Hold This Sign!"

and perhaps my favorite of all, "Hello Complete Stranger, I'm Proud of You Too!"
Thank you, Peggy Sue, for the added inspiration as we made our way into Epcot.

Along with signs I greatly enjoyed the Green Army Sergeant from Toy Story who barked out commands like, "Get Moving Up That Hill, Princess!" to push us farther along our journey,

I had been warned in advance the loneliest stretch of the race would be between miles seven and ten, outside the Disney Parks, but by that point my legs were not only on fire (sung in my head to the tune of Alicia Keys) but on auto pilot. I took in the sights and sounds around me to keep me moving. All in all my pace did suffer, due to my hip and knee pain, but I did the best that I could under the circumstances.

Much to my surprise ('dismay' may be the more appropriate word), the Disney Princess Half Marathon didn't end at mile marker 13.1 but a bit beyond in the parking lot behind Epcot. I'm not sure of the official distance but my Garmin watch told me I ran 13.24. (What the hell?! Don't you people see me limping?) Either way, I did it. I REALLY DID IT!

I ran like a princess (sort of) limping across the finish line, grateful to be done, and thrilled with my accomplishment.


I was exhausted yet thoroughly elated when the sparkly pink jeweled race medal was placed around my neck. As were all my other Princess running friends. We each ran our race with no regrets and have already vowed to run another half marathon in our future. (As my 12-year-old son would say, "no take backs!")

Princesses, we've come a long way and I'm proud of each and every one of us! I went to the airport with two good friends and left Orlando with five more, along with enough laughs and memories to last a lifetime. Thank you, my friends, and thank you, too, Disney for an amazing experience!

Two Weeks.

Two weeks from now I'll be getting off an airplane and beginning what will surely be a weekend of a lifetime.  You see on February 24 2013, two of my good friends, five new friends, and myself will be running alongside 26,000 others (most of whom will be donned in tutus and tiaras) at the Disney Princess 1/2 Marathon.

This has been a miracle in the making considering two years ago at this time I was attempting to train for my very first 5K run and wasn't feeling particularly optomistic about being able to accomplish that goal.

It's a funny thing about goals, however. Once you set your mind to something, physical and/or medical limitations aside, the seemingly impossible becomes, well, possible.  I've now been training for the Princess 1/2 for the past 14 weeks, beginning after recovering from a frustrating ankle sprain with three and four-mile runs where I was be huffing and puffing, forcing my legs to move under me, until my iPhone app told me I could stop; and working my way up to a recent and surprising ten-mile run, which I not only completed in a respectable timeframe but found myself being able to hold a conversation throughout -- something I'd not been able to do a relatively short time before.  Despite the many weeks of training beforehand, it wasn't until I hit the stop button on my watch officially completing that ten mile run, when it became clear I would actually be able to pull off the Princess 1/2.

Self doubt was replaced by self confidence. And it only took 10 miles to get me there.

To anyone who says they can't do what I am doing, I can only reply with a resounding, "YES YOU CAN!"  I've said it before and I'll say it again: I was never a runner, I never liked to run (hated it even), but with each passing mile I now am starting to truly appreciate the feeling of my sneaks hitting the pavement.  And believe me, THAT is something I never thought I'd hear myself say. But the fact is, it's become MY time.  Time for myself to go as slow or as fast as I please, to let my mind wander or to concentrate on my favorite tunes. And with each new mile marker behind me, it's one more pat on the back I give to myself for reaching a new goal.  The Couch-to-5K and RunKeeper app programs should seriously consider adding a cheering sound bite at the end of each run for runners...but lucky for me I have an amazing group of friends and fellow princesses with which to share and congratulate each other on our accomplishments.

In two weeks I'll have reached the greatest of my goals to date: 13.1 miles.  Yes, 1/2 marathoners proudly include that last tenth of a mile where they push themselves to their limits to cross the finish line.  I look forward to that moment with equal parts excitement and trepidation.  Knowing I'll be meeting my seven special friends to share that moment afterward will make it all beyond my wildest dreams.  Where better for it all to happen than Walt Disney World, the place where dreams come true!

Breakfast at Amy's

I'm sure if my friends were polled they'd say I have my shit pretty much together. I live in a nice house, I wear decent clothes, blah, blah, blah. But, like most people, or so I hope, I often run around like the proverbial chicken with it's head cut off when prepping for guests. I recently invited a few friends over for breakfast. A get together for my local mom friends. This is how the day began:

Daughter:      "Mom, I'm scared."

Me:               "You'll be fine, but let me be clear, you HAVE to get on the bus today.
                      I CAN NOT drive you to school."

Daughter:      "Why not?" (complete with tears and exhausting eight-year-old drama)

Me:               "Because I'm having friends over this morning and have too much to do to drive you and get back home to do everything I need to do."

Daughter:     (more crying)

I'll save you the agonizing details of the next 30 minutes which it took to get her dressed, make lunches, offer food, and convince my daughter to get herself on the school bus. In the end, she did it. The bus came on time, whisking my children off to school, leaving me with an ample 85 minutes before my friends started arriving.

7:35 - 8:00 am: Preheat the oven and straighten the house, picking up the various articles of clothing and breakfast dishes left on the counter or tossed in the sink by my kids.  Doesn't anyone else know how to locate a dishwasher?

Now if you don't know the following about me, you haven't been reading my blog posts. Either that or your memory is as failing as mine as previously discussed in My Brain is Fried.

"Hi, my name is Amy, and I am a procrastinator."

As much as I try, (okay, trying might be a little bit of a stretch but just go with it) I can't seem to change my evil procrastinating ways.  Regardless, I did in fact pre-assemble the night before one of the egg dishes I planned to serve. Granted, it was required by the recipe to sit overnight. Otherwise I'd surely be scrambling (no pun intended) to do that the morning in question as well but, yes, pre-made nonetheless.  Yay, Me!  Also, I have awesome friends who were bringing lots and lots of goodies to devour during our gathering so I had only one other item to bake. I spent the next 20 minutes making another egg dish for my gluten-free friends and readying my house one last time for their arrival.

8:30 am:       Yikes, time to shower...dress...put on a less-tired face. Oh boy, I could use a few more minutes!

8:49 am:       "SHIT! Is that the time?!  Let's dry that hair, Amy and pray no one shows up early!"                      (Speaking of praying, 'Dear Lord, I hope I'm not the only person who talks to herself!')

8:55 am:       More chicken-like activity as I run around lighting candles and tossing things behind closed doors to give the appearance of someone who has all her shit together.

9:01 am:       Ready as I'm gonna be. Let them come.             DING DONG!

Will Run For Mimosas

I was never a runner.

In high school I joined the indoor track intramural sports program.  From what I remember we were not timed ever but, rather, simply let loose in the halls of the high school.  For me, my friends joined so I did too.  Simple.  Afterwards, come to think of it a few times we went during, (since this was back in the day when parents - and clearly school officials - didn't worry about security or kidnapping) we would run through a trail by the school which conveniently led to Mickey D's where we'd reward ourselves with milkshakes and fries.  Basically it was a social outlet, which is the only reason I was there because, again, I was no runner.

Fast forward many years to 2011 and a friend told me about a 5K race for women only called Run Like a Mother.  Are you kidding?  I can't run a half mile...but I'll do it for the t-shirt alone!  Funny thing how motivating a cute shirt can be.

So I started "training" on the treadmill following the six-week to 5K schedule on the race website.  And you know what?  I did that race and I loved it.  Okay, not the running part.  That sucked.  But the comradery of all the mothers, sisters, daughters and friends doing something together to better themselves on Mother's Day, the official race t-shirt and, most of all, the mimomas afterward.

I completed my first 5K in a respectable time.  But I still didn't call myself a runner.

This year, I trained again for the same 5K and actually started running on the road.  Until last year, the only time I'd ever run on the road any distance at all was the race itself.  I had a history of shin splints dating back to the milkshakes and fries era and was paranoid.  As it turns out, I get shin splints easier from walking than running.  In Florida, several weeks before race #2, my husband ran with me for the first time in our 20 plus years together.  It was fun.  Brutal, but fun.  I was feeling better prepared for the race, now running 2-1/2 to 3 miles.  Hmmm.  Maybe I was becoming....  Naaaah.  This is me we're talking about.

Then I did something crazy.  I signed up for another 5K only a week after the Mother's Day race.  I would never have planned for it, but the race was in memory of Julia Malsin, a remarkable young lady who passed away earlier this year.  The course for Julia's Run was intimidating to this non runner, but after reading something Julia's mom had written about her struggles and determination to make a difference after her daughter's death I felt completely ridiculous for remotely hesitating about this so-called "challenge."

So I ran both races.  A week apart.  Mimosas after the first, breakfast with the family after the second.  Life was pretty good.  And for the first time, I was starting to believe in myself.  I had three 5K races under my belt in a year's time.  Not too shabby if I do say so myself. 

And then a funny thing happened.  Having done two 5Ks in one week, I started looking for others.  I was becoming a 5K junkie.

I found one close by happening about 10 days later.  So I signed up for that one too.  Now before you go thinking I'd really lost it at this point, let me share that this last race was famous for one thing: FLATNESS.  It was marked as an easy course which, therefore, had my name written all over it.  Plus, let's not forget, there was a t-shirt involved.

There I was, making great strides (pun partially intended) in my new outlook on fitness.  Life was good.  I went out early one morning to run just two days before the flat 5K.  I should have taken it as a sign when the GPS signal on my iPhone app indicated "poor" strength.  Or when this same app was telling me I was running a 3-1/2 minute mile instead of my usual 9-something.  I wasn't.  Clearly, this app was OFF that day...as I should have been as well.  And here's why.

A mile and a quarter into my final pre-race run, on a remote road in my neighborhood, I slipped on a patch of wet leaves and rolled my ankle.

Down.  I.  Went.

Oh, it was not pretty.  And I have the pictures on Facebook to prove it.  (Hee hee.  Yes, amidst the chaos and my own humiliation, I took pictures.  And posted them.)  I do pray, however, that no one checks the security footage at the gate in front of the driveway where I fell.  Or if they do, that they're not drinking coffee at the time for they'll undoubtedly spray a mouthful of it onto their video screen witnessing this dumb blonde sprawled out on the road before them, picking leaves and dirt off her bloodied knee and elbow.  It was a doozy all right.

Maybe I was getting a little carried away.  Maybe I needed a break and this was my cosmic sign.  Either way, no flat 5K for me!

I'm fortunate.  It was only a minor sprain, and I get to wear this lovely aircast when I walk for another week or so.  And I have the battle scars of a runner to carry with me in the future. 

Will I run again?  You betcha.

My friends and I are discussing running the Disney Princess 1/2 Marathon in February.  Here's the shocking thing...I think I can do it!   

Me!  The Non Runner!

It's a funny thing when you start to believe in yourself.  It's never too late.

So for all you able-bodied non runners out there, I have something to share.  You can do it too.  How do I know?  Because I couldn't run a half a mile 15 months ago and now I'm about to start training (yes, when the aircast comes off) for something much bigger than I ever dreamed possible.  Will it suck?  Probably.  But I'll do it for the t-shirt...the mimosas...the pictures with Disney characters...and the amazing time I'll share and treasure with friends for the rest of my life.

I am a runner.  There, I said it.

Greetings from Gumdrop Falls

I was born in Gumdrop Falls. Granted that was not the given name of our town at the time.  Nor is it now.  But when my friend Jennifer first referred to our quaint New England town by that name, well, it just stuck. 

When I mentioned this fictional name to my husband he said, "I don't get it.  There are no falls and we don't sell gumdrops."  Really?!  Hopefully my readers are a little more creative.... And for all I know, The Old Store (pictured above) may actually sell gumdrops!  Anywho...

If you're not familiar with Gumdrop Falls, I'll give you a little mental tour.  There is one (I repeat, one) school where preschoolers and eighth graders alike attend.  The big transition to middle school occurs by traveling, not across the street or to another building but, rather, down a flight of stairs.  I kid you not.  High school, however, is attended outside town lines. 

When my husband and I first returned to my birthplace, after spending the previous five years in Washington, D.C., I was shocked to learn there was not a CVS pharmacy in town.  In truth we moved from Gumdrop Falls to the next town over (one with a CVS I might add) when I was only six months old, so my memory of it thirty some odd years later was virtually nonexistent.  The closest pharmacy is a 15-minute car ride away, which can feel like an eternity when your child is screaming and needs his medicine.  In fact, aside from the local I.G.A, a bank, post office, a couple churches, library, and a few other small businesses, to get pretty much anywhere outside this idyllic community takes 15 minutes or more. 

This Cheers-like locality, where nearly everyone knows your name, has been home for my family for more than a decade, and it is from here where I share stories of my small-town life with you.

My Brain is Fried!

Remember the 80's commercial with the egg? "This is your brain."  Then the egg is dropped into a sizzling skillet, "This is your brain on drugs."

First, let me start off by saying, No, I am NOT doing drugs!

But, yes, my brain is fried.  And it took my friend's blog and her link to this nearly two-year-old New York Times article to find out why.

It's been going on a few years now.  My inability to remember the simplest of things.  Just yesterday I was at a 5K race and someone came up to me who I've met and I knew I knew her.  I could tell you where I met her and who our mutual friends are.  But for the life of me, I couldn't remember her name until hours later when I was back home.  Ellen! 

It's beyond frustrating.  I was concerned enough to mention it to my doctor a while back to be sure I didn't have some form of early onset Alzheimer's.  I have trouble remembering why I walked into the kitchen or what I was going to say next.  I've driven the wrong direction when heading out for an errand or dropping a friend's child off at a house I've been to a hundred times.  It's not all the time, and maybe it's not even every day, but certainly enough for me to think, this can't be normal.  Actually, it turns out, it is.  At least in my case.

Where our brains are concerned, a lack of sleep certainly doesn't help keep things fresh.  And sure, it can't hurt to try taking vitamins for memory...so long as I remember to take them.  But the real culprits, so it seems, are also my favorite gadgets: my iPhone, iPad, and the television.  (My inner voice screams, 'the iPad? Say it isn't so!')

Simply put, our brains need a break.  Makes sense, right?  I mean, they don't call them Crackberries for nothing.  When I'm at home alone all day and want to have some connection with the outside world, the first thing I do is open my iPad.  I'm surprised someone hasn't invented a way to strap this thing to my body because I carry it with me everywhere.  Well, no, not everywhere.  The bathroom is generally off limits.  But close.

Don't get me wrong, I am in NO WAY saying iPads, or iPhones or anything of the techno-gadgety sort are bad.  They are the way of the future and I am 100% on board.  But, like everything else, moderation, moderation, moderation.

If you were to peer into a window each night at my house (no, this is NOT an invitation to do so), you would probably see the following: the television would be on channel X, Y, or Z while I sit on the couch with my iPad playing some mindless game (hmmm, starting to see the connection too?) while my husband looks up occasionally from his laptop at the kitchen table behind me where he agonizes over ads, spreadsheets, etc.  Work stuff.

Now there is no telling my husband to put away his computer when he has work to be done, but I can certainly focus my brain on one activity or the other, not both.

Yes, my brain is fried. But at least now I know why. And I can do something about it!

So tonight, I'll put away my e-games when the kids go to sleep.  I won't check Facebook.   I won't Draw Something or text anyone.   I know I won't wake up in the morning remembering everything I need, but it's a start.  Baby steps....

Laughter is the best medicine.

Gretchen Rubin is the author of The Happiness Project.  The idea for her book was not unlike my own blog concept at the beginning of the year: to list all the things I'm grateful for and see the transformation which can occur from the inside out.

Today on Gretchen's Facebook wall she asked the question, "What do you wish you did more on a regular basis"  I was suprised to see out of the 130 comments, only one other person had something even remotely like my response, "Laugh. At myself, at others, or just in general."

I recently learned someone said something unkind about me. Most of us are guilty of a bit of gossip now and then, and I'm sure this happens more often than I'd ever want to know yet, even so, it bothered me greatly.  I envy all those who can easily shrug off these moments in life.

So today, after reading Gretchen's blog, I'll follow my own wish.  I'll laugh.  At myself.  At others.  And just in general.

The Little Things

Sometimes when we look for things for which to be grateful we search inside ourselves for the big kahunas. The day changers. Other times we realize it can simply be the little things which make us the happiest. Today was a 'little things' kind of day, which began at the bus stop.

1. I am thankful my son still takes and holds his sister's hand as they cross the street to get on the bus each morning. This small, but critical for safety in my mind's eye, gesture tells me I'm doing a pretty decent job. At least for now. Or until dinner time when my daughter will inevitably whine that I'm making a meal she doesn't like and she wants chicken nuggets instead! Breathe, Amy. Just breathe.

2. I'm thankful for the Z-Pak. You know when you go to the doctor's because you've been feeling lousy for three weeks but have been too busy making sure everyone else is okay you ignore yourself? It's a mom thing. We all do it. So by the time you're finally at your appointment, listening to the doctor, you're actually hoping she tells you something's wrong? That was me today. So, yippee, I got my wish. Sinus infection = Z-Pak. Hopefully this will drive away all the headaches and overall crappy feeling once and for all!

3. I'm thankful when my husband makes it home on time for me to leave the house without feeling rushed to get to my monthly girl's get together affectionately called drunko. Whoops, typo, I mean Bunco. Ha ha. In truth, there is alcohol but I have yet to see someone labeled drunk. Clumsy perhaps, as I personally tipped over a glass of wine a couple months back, but that's as far as it goes. Overall, it's just a wonderful reason to get together with the ladies, and gab and snack while rolling a few dice.

4. I'm thankful it's no longer a full moon because there was actually a moment today in the Rite Aid parking lot when I was looking around to make sure a) I wasn't getting Punk'd and b) I wasn't about to get carjacked by a hidden partner of a lady who drove up, introduced herself just before I was about to get in my car, and began telling me her complete life story. No joke. My hairdresser told me she had a lot of crazies in yesterday. It was a full moon then. Maybe this lady was a leftover full-moon crazy? Either way, I wished her well, got in my car and locked my doors as quick as I could. I mean, really, lady. If I wasn't unknowingly part of some school psychological project, surely there are better places to get suggestions for safe places to take your son away from a soon-to-be-divorced spouse than the pharmacy parking lot!

5. Lastly I am thankful for my stamping friends who share their creativity each month. Not only do we get together to swap some amazing ideas and cards, but one of these wonderful ladies made me this fabulous iPad cover! Thank you, Suzan! You amaze me all the time with your endless talent! I'm not too savvy with a sewing machine, but I'd be happy to help you add some gadgets to your blog any time as a thank you!

Can you say, Cha-Ching?

As a result of my family's recent trip to Florida, I have another travel tip to share. This one falls under the do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do category. My tip is this: listen to your air hostesses/flight attendants when they tell you to check your seat-back pockets for any personal items. Oh, how I wish I heard this useful bit of wisdom before disembarking the airplane so we could have altogether avoided the loss of my daughters' pretty in pink Nintendo DSI game device, carrying case, SD card pre-loaded with her favorite tunes, along with all eight games received since Christmas 2010. Cha-ching!

I am still holding out hope, and have even enlisted the help of St. Anthony, though as each day winds down with no word from Delta Airlines I realize a reunion for my girl and her games are becoming less and less likely. But these things take time, and good things come to those who wait--at least that's what I keep telling my daughter! For now, my fingers remain crossed.

Amy's Travel Tips!

Recently I was told I should write a book. Frankly, as flattering a comment as this is, I wouldn't have the foggiest idea what to write about. As I was leaving for a trip the next day, a friend offered a suggestion. "You should write a 'What NOT to Do Travel Book'," she said. Humph, I thought. Actually, it is a funny idea because I have had some doozy travel stories, though certainly not enough to fill a book. Yet.

With this in mind, I'll share some of my top tips (A.K.A. reasons to be grateful) when traveling:

1. Packing in advance does not necessarily mean you will remember to bring everything you need. My son packed his suitcase a good 24 hours before me and we forgot his swim trunks. I packed my items 45 minutes before we put the key in the ignition and I forgot nothing! Or, if I did, I haven't discovered it yet!

2. Should you arrive at your destination without something you need, you can almost always purchase it when you arrive. Thanks to Old Navy for our most recent quick, one-stop shopping jaunt for new UV shirts and swim trunks!

3. Should you discover the morning you are leaving for Paris that your passport expired several months prior, fear not. It IS possible to get a same-day passport AND make your evening flight. Even if it means driving to Philadelphia; talking your husband through your closet because, big shocker, you haven't packed yet; and leaving two cars in long-term parking to make it happen!

4. Should you ever arrive at Westchester Airport and realize your driver's license, and any other legitimate form of ID, is resting back at home, don't reach for the panic button. Be polite to the TSA agents because they are about to be your new BFFs. They will issue an immediate background check over the phone and ask you some basic questions (note to self, you can't ask your husband for help). If you pass the check you will feel like the luckiest person alive. Hell, maybe you are! You will be allowed to board the plane with your family and have a really great story to share with the relatives awaiting your arrival! And yes, this happened to me post 9/11!

5. FedEx is great for express shipping a driver's license, custom swimming ear plugs, or whatever else that's needed prior to the return trip home. It's quite possible that my parents now avoid my calls when I'm away in case it means they need to be put on another pronto postal mission!