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.