A Story to Share

So, if you follow me on Twitter, you may have noticed I've tweeted recently about some writing I've been doing. I wanted to clarify some on that for you. 

So here it is....

I am writing a book.

Yep.  Keep your panties on...you read that right.

A book...

With pages...

Real pages.

Pages that you can read and flip and turn and touch and wrinkle and bend and write on and burn or whatever else you do with book pages.

Weird, right?

Now.  Let me be real with you.  I am a writer.  I have always written and loved to write.  Even in high school when I was forced to write. Yeah, Yeah... I know. I never admitted to my friends, and bitched and complained, and bitched and complained some more, but I actually enjoyed writing essays throughout my school years.

BUT... and this is a huge "but"...  I have only written blog posts, essays, and articles before.  And I can count on three... maaaybe four hands the number of times my stuff has been published.  But never a book.  I mean, this has actual chapters in it already.

So weird.

This announcement to my bloggy friends is, if nothing else, something to hold me accountable.  I am notorious for starting stories, poems, articles and just letting them disappear into hard drive oblivion.  So, that is why I am sharing this information with you.  However... first and foremost, I want to make sure we all get one thing straight - this post is NOT a toot-my-own-horn-because-I-am-writing-a-book kind of announcement, because quite frankly, the idea of finishing an entire book absolutely terrifies me. Petrifies me. For a multitude of different reasons... the time involved, the risk of how bad it might suck once finished (which, let's be real, there's a great chance of it happening), etcetera.  However, if I've told people and posted it all over the inter webs, I have to at least finish it.... right? 

You, my dear friends, have no need to worry though.  The book is not about defecating oneself or how to raise a human being or even how to successfully sign your child up for a highly prestigious preschool without sacrificing other preschool mamas.  That kind of life changing information I share for free, right here on my blog.  You are welcome.

I'm not giving anything away, but it will be a semi-fiction book (that is totally not the correct term for it - sorry!) that is based on a true story. A type of historical fiction, I guess.  A story about a couple good friends of mine and an incredible "adventure" (we'll go ahead and call it that for lack of a better word) they went through.  I heard the story in it's entirety this past January/February straight from the horse's (or one of the involved horse's) mouth and felt a really, really strong urge to write it down. Over the spring and summer month's I sort of left the story hanging, but have sense felt the crazy weird urge to finish writing it now.

So I am.

I told my friend about it about a month and a half ago (yes.... eleven months after it happened. What can I say? I'm chicken sh*t and have a hard time following through), and her excitement was so contagious, it has helped motivate me to sit down daily to type it out.

Because this story needs to be told.  And for some reason, I am the person that God has planned to write it all down.  I just pray I do it justice. My friends involved in the story deserve it to be told and told well.

So here goes...

Whether it gets published or not and sold or not....this story needs to be recorded. So wish me luck over the next year trying to get this done. 

Merry Christmas!

Wishing you and yours a very Merry Christmas and a wonderful 2013!
Love, Kristin

The Ultimate One-Upper

So this will officially be my third post on the infamous gym mama...

So the past few weeks, she has made the habit of dropping her daughter off and then running errands with her son. I usually spend the hour class switching between watching MK flop around the gym floor or reading or writing. This week's class started out no different...gym mama dropped her girl off and walked out while I set up shop to get some work done. I had given myself an hour to get a certain amount done, and was looking forward to finishing it.  However, five minutes into the class, gym mama walks back in and plops herself down. 

Right next to me. 

Leaving eight other chairs open around us...

This in turn, confirmed to me that she was that awkward public restroom user who would choose the stall closest to someone else, when all the other stalls are open.  Or that awkward movie goer who would, in a theater that was completely empty, choose to sit just a seat or two away from the one other person in the theater.  You know, that person. 

Anyway, she plopped down and started chatting.   

Before I go on, I want to let you all know that I am somewhat of a talker. I love to chat and love to meet and get to know new people. So normally this would not be a big deal. Except remember that deadline I had given myself on getting work done? Or how I already know her plans to take her daughter to the Olympics? Well, I was assuming she would prefer to chat about her daughter again, but I was wrong. The conversation was even better than I had hoped. 

I got to spend the whole hour not working hearing about her.   

What I also realized within the longest afternoon of my life short hour was she is also the Ultimate One-Upper. You know this person as well... the one who if you mention how you helped an old lady cross the street once, they would inform you how they were the reason the 547th amendment to the constitution passed. That was the amendment that stated all moving vehicles must stop 350 yards from impending crosswalks where women over the age of 70 looks to cross and every driver must exit their vehicle to assist said woman across the road. 

Yes, she's that person.       

Anyway, so here's a brief synopsis of how the convo went...

(with the need to save time, I am abbreviating Gym Mama's Name with "OU', short for One-Upper)

OU: I remember seeing you reading a devotional one day, so I'm assuming your Christian, right?

Me: Yep, I am. 

OU: Me too.  But I am also Jewish. (Um, what?) I see you have a Hebrew looking tattoo on your wrist, so I wasn't sure exactly. Me: Yep, it's Hebrew. 

OU: I speak and read Hebrew pretty fluently.  I don't know. Hebrew was so easy forms to learn. (One Up!) It's in my blood, since my dad was Jewish. So what does your tattoo say? (Don't you read hebrew lady?) 

Me: Oh, it is from Scripture. Both Psalm 46:10 and Exodus 14:14.  It means "Be Still." 

OU: Ah, okay. That's what I thought, I just wanted to make sure. I know, it's weird being Jewish and Christian. I am afraid I am going to start confusing kids. This is the first year we didn't light a menorah. Where do you go to church?

Me: Hope Pesbyterian in Cordova.  

OU: Oh, I am Presbyterian too. (Two Up!) I've heard of Hope but its just so big, I don't think it's for me.

Me: I completely understand. It took me 3 years after we moved here to start going after I visited the first time. The size intimidated me for sure. started volunteering with the worship team there and got involved in bible studies and it what's definitely made it easier and much smaller for me.  

OU: Oh, I am highly involved with my church. (Three up!) I help with communion every weekend and invite people to stand and go to the table. The pastor told me that days I am not there, the entire church is confused on what to do. I'm a choreographer as well, so I think myth and motions really help clear up any confusion the congregation has.  

Me: Well, you better make sure not to miss church again then! (Slightly teasing.)

OU: I know! Often when they're playing the music, I'll dance behind the curtain. Which the pastor is okay with, since you know, he knows I am a choreographer and all. (What does that even mean??)

Me: Mmmm... So what do you do the rest of the week when you're not at church?

OU: I'm a fitness instructor. I was actually the very first pirates instructor in Memphis.  

Me: Oh, very cool.

OU: Yeah, so I teach dance and various fitness classes. 

Me: Where do you teach?

OU: Uh, various places. Mainly at the church... 

Me: Cool.

OU: So I see you are wearing a UCA shirt and dance pants, where did you go to camp? 

Me: Well, a lot of places! I actually worked full time for UCA up until recently. Now I just do random contract work for them, like working and judging competitions, things like that. We've been blessed that my husband's business allows me to stay home with McKenna for the time being.

OU: What does he do? 

Me: He and a friend started a company a few years ago called BPC Performance Systems. They are both endurance coaches.

OU: Oh, like triathletes and marathoners?

Me: Yep. Exactly. They have also got into some other aspects of the sports as well, such as apparel. 

OU: I used to be involved with that stuff, but just don't have time anymore with everything else I'm doing. (Four up!). And so you just stay home with McKenna now? Don't do anything else?

Me: (Slightly uncomfortable.) Well... yeah. I help my husband some and also do some writing on the side.  

OU: Oh, I am a writer too. I write for (insert name of well known magazine). So who do you write for? (Five up!) 

Me: Well... I've done some random articles for different people/companies. 

OU: Like who?

Me: Um, well.... Varsity for one, Yahoo Voices, the MRTC Roadrunner Journal, different blogs, ya know... Nothing that's a big deal. I'm actually excited because I just started my first book project. But we'll see how it goes. (Patting my still open iPad where no work was done over the past hour.)

OU: Oh, really? My book was published just last year. (Six up!) What publishers are you looking at?

Me: Oh! Well, none... At least not yet. I'm not even sure this will get published. Its just something I want to write. 

OU: Well, I went through (insert publishing company name) with my book. (Seven up!) My husband writes plays. (Eight up!) Actually, I do too. (Nine up!) 

Me: Ahhh....of course you do.

Y'all I can't make this stuff up. Part of me feels guilty about writing this posts, but geeezzzz.... Can a sista catch a break??

Asante Sana! Squash Banana!

Well, it is time.... I am officially boarding an airplane tomorrow and headed to the land of Simba, Timon, and Pumba. Which kind of makes me want to eat a grub.... Just kidding. Though, I think I'd much rather eat a grub than a wild pig or something from there... Which reminds me of a little ditty you may recognize... Feel free to sing along...

Timon: [singing] Luau! / If you're hungry for a hunk of fat and juicy meat / Eat my buddy Pumbaa here, / 'Cause he is a treat / Come on down and dine / On this tasty swine/ All you hafta do is get in line. / Arrrre you achin'...  

Pumbaa: Yup, yup, yup.

Timon: Forrrr some bacon?

Pumbaa: Yup, yup, yup.

Timon: He's a big pig.

Pumbaa: Yup, yup.

Timon: You can be a big pig, too. Oy!

My apologies, I digress... My sister has already requested I bring home a Duma in a size small. (I've been brushing up on my Swahili and "Duma" is the souvenir item as depicted in the photo of the text message below.) And she's not the only one. I am under some pretty massive peer pressure to fit not one, not two, not three... but four baby man-eating cheetahs into my carry on. Let's hope Customs isn't too particular on the types of souvenirs brought home from foreign countries.

Okay... in all seriousness, I am so, so, so, soooooooooo freaking humbled by the selfless giving and generosity of the people who helped me to go on this trip. When people couldn't give their money, they donated their time by working events for me for free! And let's be real, who does anything for FREE anymore?? Well... MY friends and family, that's who! I have successfully raised the entire amount needed, PLUS some! I am still getting checks in the mail, which will help towards supplies for the people over there. The experience of fundraising for this trip has truly shown me what amazing and selfless people there are out there. And I am soooooo blessed to call them my own friends and family. Words can't explain the feelings of gratitude and humbleness that I felt every time somebody sent a check, purchased an item in my name, or gave their precious time towards this mission I am going on. I was brought to tears and my knees many times over it. (Take note... I'll never admit again that tears were shed.) When I first decided to embark on this journey, my biggest worry was raising the money, as it was quite a bit needed! Well, that turned out to be the easy part. (I was not-so-politely reminded a few times by God that it was HIS money anyway... So I was worrying for nothing. Matthew 6:33-34, Matthew 21:22) As tomorrow approaches, my biggest fears are starting to truly emerge. I think I've been hiding what really is irking me about going on this trip... More than the money or the possible safety and health issues... But I want to do something while I'm there. I mean, really DO something. I want to not just be another "body" that goes and puts in some time. I want to be the hands and feet of Jesus. I want to make a difference in somebody's life. Like a true difference, where they'll never be the same because I was a part of this.

To refer back to The Lion King (which, lets be real, is sadly the only schematic file I have in place for this part of the world I'm going to), I want to be "needed," like Simba was needed when Scar completely threw up his evil-uncle-awfulness all over Pride Rock. I want to battle Scar among animated flames and hyenas, if you will... Okay, you catch my poorly illustrated drift. I want to make a difference somehow. So we'll see... Thank you in advance for your prayers.... As they have ALREADY guaranteed my safe trip there and back! (Mark 11:23-24)

 Asante, Friends! Hakuna Matata. :-)

Sparks Fly in the Gym

So remember "Gym Mama?"

Well, ladies and gents... She's still around. And still talking. I had to update you on the fact that she literally told me fifty two times her daughter plans on going to the Olympics.

Which is great!

It will be her and every other little girl in America, after watching Gabby Johnson rock the Olympic's face off.  Good for them.

But lady... Quit telling the rest of us about it.

I overheard her talking to our poor instructor about "a plan" to get her baby girl on the right track to the 2024 Summer Games. She kept asking her when she can "move up" and what "is next" for her prodigy.  On top of all the Olympic talk, she reminds us other parents weekly how her daughter scares her to death with the "skills" she does at home, and can our children do these same "skills?"

(I finally saw said "skills" and they are most definitely legit and praise worthy if you're into flopping around like a fish on some squishy mats.)

Ugh. I'm such a horrible person.... I apologize for the negative posts regarding this mom (for the record, her daughter is very sweet and I really like her...and yes, she's a pretty decent little 5 year old gymnast...), but y'all.... I may break.

Okay, I lie.... I may have broken already. Just a little, where I purposely accidentally slipped in a comment such as the one below in front of said mama....

Gosh, I don't know how Miss (insert instructor's name) coaches them. When I was coaching gymnastics, I would have killed my girls for running around crazy like this.

This was the point where my amazing mother (who was visiting)... God Bless her soul.... Responded with,

Well, you coached much older gymnasts than this. I would expect the older and more competitive ones to listen better than a group of preschoolers.

(Insert songs of silent praises and remnants of the Hallelujah chorus playing through my mind as the love I already had for my mother grew in massive increments.)

 I saw, out of the corner of my eye, Gym Mama's head turn slightly to the left in our direction as this was said.

(Hallelujah!)

Mission accomplished. ;-) (insert evil laugh)

  #IAmSoGoingToHell

Little Girls in Pretty Boxes

I had another crazy mama encounter yesterday on this fun journey of parenthood, and I wanted to share it with you all. 

Every Monday, I take MK to gymnastics class. This fall, we enrolled her at The Little Gym for the school year's entire season. She was originally enrolled in the regular 3-4 year old, "Funny Bugs," class, but after a couple weeks, her instructor asked me if we'd like to move her to the smaller, "invite-only" advanced class. Her instructor felt she was strong enough to join two other little girls (4 and 5 years old) and would benefit from a smaller group. After internally leaping for proud-mama joy a long thought out process, I decided to let her give the advanced class a shot. 

Fast forward to yesterday. We've been in that class for a couple months now, and MK is doing great. There are only three of them enrolled in it and the girls get a lot of special attention and are learning at a quicker pace. At least I'm assuming it is quicker than they would have in the larger class she was in before. The other mom and I get along great and we both enjoy cheering each others kids on. It's a fun and relaxing environment and the kids have an absolute blast. MK is even heading to one of the girl's birthday parties at the end of next month.

Okay, so let me back up and share a little background with you about myself, just in case you didn't already know. This is going to sound like a blast from my personal "Look-At-Me" horn, but hang with me for a second... I'll get to my point eventually.

Gymnastics, cheerleading, and dance has only shaped my ENTIRE life. I started at a young age and from then on, it dictated who my friends were, how my personality evolved.... I was able tostalk meet my husband because of it, I moved across the country to work full time in the industry.... Blah, blah, blah.... You get the idea. I wouldn't be where and who I am today without it. So try to keep that in the back of your mind for in a minute... Now, back to the story at hand...  

Insert a new kiddo and her mama into the class. Correction: Insert a new kiddo and her stage mama into the class. A new little girl joined yesterday and I had little patience the pleasure of chatting with her mama, trying to get to know her and her daughter better. This is literally how the start of our convo went.

New Mama: The gymnastics coach invited her to join this advanced class, so we thought we'd give it a shot. (Glances at MK) This is the advanced class, right? 

Me: Yep, it is! And that's awesome. I think you'll like it. The kids have a blast! 

New Mama: How old is your daughter? She looks so little for this class. 

Me *bristling*: She's almost 3 and a half. She's definitely the youngest one.(Chuckles) And you'll be able to tell, but she enjoys it. 

New Mama: My daughter is 5 years old. So wait, does your daughter have her cartwheel yet? 

Me *fully bristled*: Well... no... not yet... But she is trying. She sort of just hops her hips over.(smiling sweetly) I'm assuming your's does? 

New Mama: Yeah. Actually, just yesterday she called me to watch her and she decided to throw a cartwheel with no hands. Which is called an aerial. 

(A slight pause should be taken here for the dramatic effect of these statements to fully sink in. Also, feel free to say, "Really, lady?" to yourself, at this point in time.)

Me *begrudgingly ignores the gym lingo educational comment*: Wow! Thats great!! She's super cute too. She definitely looks like she's built to be a gymnast... Her little legs are so muscular. New Mama: Well, I think so too. I was a gymnast and cheerleader once, so it only makes sense.

Alright. Time to pause...

So remember where I said, this type of activity has shaped my whole life? So basically.... If anyone deserves to be the "stage mom" here, I'm going to not so humbly state that it's me. And for the record, I am NOT one who likes to be upstaged. Up until this point in MK's minuscule gymnastics career, I had not uttered a word to anyone in that gym about my own personal experience and skills. Before I go on, let me say that I am by NO MEANS saying I was the most amazing gymnast/cheerleader/dancer out there. Far from it. But literally, I made a living from the damn things and put food on the table for my family.... So I may feel my skills were good enough to be just a little bit proud of. 

1997/1998 SGA Competitive Team

With my Tennessee cheer staff at our Training Week Awards Night, 2011

But something I definitely AM proud of is the fact that I have NOT jumped in letting it be known I was literally coached by a World Championship elite gymnast at one time in my life and that I used to coach competitive gymnastics myself. And I haven't once tried to tell MK's coach how to coach... Even though I probably could have and have wanted to a couple times.And you want to know why?? Because let's face it... This is The LITTLE Gym. (Warning: Double negatives ahead! I feel this grammatical sin is necessary to "hear" my southern accent that tends to come out more when fired up.) .... This ain't no Bela Karolyi Olympic training camp out on a sweltering Texas ranch where we wrap our little girls in pretty boxes trying to impress USA Gymnastics to get our kid on the national team.(If you're at all into gymnastics or figure skating, and caught the book/movie reference there, but haven't seen or read it... I highly recommend getting a copy!) This place is exactly what it's called. The Little Gym. A fun, small, and loving place where my baby girl, who is still only THREE YEARS OLD, can discover, play, and grow in a structured and FUN environment without any stress. With or WITHOUT a cartwheel... 

BUT... with all that being said, let's remember that I am naturally a highly, uber, monstrously, slightly competitive person. So the internal need to share my own story with this mama definitely came to a near breaking point. #BeingCompetitiveSucks. However, I refrained after sneaking in a short comment how I used to be a gymnast and cheerleader, as well. So one more little addition to this story, to just get the full effect...

New Mama has her other child, a son probably about 10 years old, unwillingly sitting next to her, watching his prodigal sister run a muck with my cartwheel-less MK work towards Olympic glory inside the gym walls.

Suddenly, as her daughter not-so-gracefully catapults herself gracefully leaps of the beam, New Mama throws up her arms in the sharpest and fastest "touchdown" motion I've ever seen. Picture fingers and hands creating the meanest karate chop motion you've ever seen straight up in the air.

Brother *rolls his eyes*: Whyyyyyy are you signaling to her? 

New Mama: To remind her to stay exactly like a pencil when she dismounts, in order to stick the landing. Then the arms up signal that her skill is finished. It like the period on the end of a sentence. Showing she's done. The judges need to see that.

Y'all, I can't even stand it! I'm literally dying all over again as I type this, so I'm going to end there. However, you can imagine how the rest of the Olympic training practice went. I am all about encouraging our kids to do their best and join competitive sports if they're so inclined, and more often than I'd like to publicly admit, I have to restrain my inner-stage-mama from getting out of control.... but let's get real... IT'S THE LITTLE GYM!!

So there it is. I am now accepting all well-wishes and prayers for both my sanity and patience throughout the duration of this gym season.

(And for the record: by the time this posted... MK got her cartwheel. Boom.)

The Happiest 5K on the Planet!

This past Saturday was the first annual Memphis Color Run. And I have to say, it was an absolute blast! MK has been looking forward to this run since we signed up in June. She would watch the official video over and over... and finally the day came!

After a semi-grumpy wake up call for her (I mean, I woke her up prior to 8am on her fall break! Sheesh! Who do I think I am??), she got pumped up for the run once we decked ourselves out in the sweatband and face tattoos. We met up with our friends Molly, Lacey, Britney, & Britney's family once we arrived at Tiger Stadium, where the race was held. Unfortunately, the hubs didn't do the run, but he did ride his bike there (#typical) and took some stellar photos!

 I have to be honest when it comes to MK. She is very competitive. She informed me on the way there that she was going to run so fast and beat everybody. Really. She was in it for the WIN. For the record, she is not at all like her mom or dad when it comes to that personality trait.... Riiigggghhhttttt.... Anyway, she was serious, yet pumped up and literally ran almost the whole race herself (probably around 2-2.5 miles). Pretty good for 3 years old, if you ask me! Even with the stops to drink, play in the color on the ground, and photo-ops, we ended up finishing in about 55 minutes.

Below is a gallery of photos from our run. Enjoy! I know we did!

New Goals & Plans

So I've reworked some of my race goals for the fall and spring and decided to share them with you.

I had almost signed up for quite a few big races this fall and spring. One was the St. Jude Half Marathon in December this year and also the Rock 'N Roll FULL Marathon this coming April... which just happens to be on my 30th birthday. What a cool 30th birthday, right? I planned on finishing my first full marathon on my 30th. Pretty sweet, right? Yeah, I thought so too.

 Well, anyway - with the "help" of my husband, I've put together some even bigger and better goals though. I have had these new goals before. Once about four years ago and the other was earlier this summer (but we all know how this summer turned out. Bad news, Bears.).


Fall Goal = Don't Get Fat  Spring Goal = Don't Get Too Fat

(A little hint in case you don't understand the not-so-subtle hints I've been dropping and/or the picture: Our family is growing. By two feet. Get it??? Think about it.... Ahhh... good. Some people have had a hard time with this picture. Luckily, none of you are slow on the intake, right? ;-) )

Yes, we are going to be parents. Again.

Lord, help us.

So there went my race plans for the fall and spring. Unfortunately, on my 30th birthday I'll be about the size of a small, medium, somewhat large, gigantasouric blue whale and more than likely will be unable to waddle 26.2 miles. And I am absolutely okay with this. After what happened last time, I want to make sure to take care of myself and not over do it with the running, which I didn't do this summer. (Remember how I decided to P.R. every race I ran there for a month or two? Probably not the best plan.) No worries my fellow runners, I'm not completely giving it up, but I've decided to hold off on the races and hard training. Just some slow jogs for me over the next months.

So yeah.... back to this poor child that is stuck with Bryant and I for parents. We're so excited for him or her to show up this May (approximately May 15th). I actually found out on the day of the first Road Race Series 10K, and have been anxiously waiting for our first ultrasound appointment to make sure all looks well. Our first appointment this week went fantastic, and we saw a STRONG heart beat and the little critter moving around like crazy!

9 weeks

So being the private person I am, I came home from that appointment and immediately blasted our announcement on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. #typical

Anyways, we are thrilled and feel so blessed that all is well thus far. Here's to praying the rest of the pregnancy goes skinny well.    

Races, Races, & More Races

I got an email the other day from my friend Molly, saying the she and two other friends had signed up for the Cooper-Young 4 Miler and wanted to see if I wanted to run as well. Being the race obsessed enthusiast I am, I immediately went online and registered before even replying back.

I did this race two years ago and had a blast. It starts at 7pm, so you end up running in the dark -- which is a fun change for me. What makes this particular race a good time is that it runs through the Cooper-Young neighborhood and residents are out in full font yard party mode! (Think couches, red solo cups, peer pong, kegs, and corn-hole littered across 4 miles of neighborhood front yards. Drunk partiers offer water, gatorade, beer and encouragement the entire route. Stereos blast the likes of 'Eye of the Tiger' and 'Push It,' as well. #GoodTimes) So it's you, 2500 of your closest running friends and the drunken house-party goers enjoying Friday evening together! There are also bars and restaurants along the course, so you have those drunken fools cheering you on as well! #SoFun.

So anyway, my friends and I carpooled to the race, where I ran into Caroline, Beth, and a lot of old friends who were racing as well. I even saw a pastor from my church. I did mention that the entire city of Memphis was basically there, right? The small neighborhood quadruples in size during this event.

The after-party was cool too, with a band, food (VEGGIE friendly food!! Wahoo! Thanks Start 2 Finish!) and some of old friends performing a few silks routines. (Below is a video I caught of part of their first performance... Pretty cool if you ask me. Feel free to watch if you'd like. Don't mind my annoying voice and cackling in the background!)



As far as the actual race goes, I wasn't really worried about my time too much. Though I definitely wanted to beat my time from two years ago (37:26), which I did. In fact, I got another PR (from Zoom Through The Zoo), which was cool. In fact, if I am not mistaken, I think all of my friends may have PR'ed as well! #TeamRunBigRocks

Splits = Yard Sale!
Mile 1 – 8:27
Mile 2 – 8:46
Mile 3 – 8:39
Mile 4 – 8:35
Time: 34:41 (8:36 pace)
Age Place: 38/279
After the race, we decided to skip out on the 2500+ population of the Cooper-Young area restaurants/bars and headed to Brookhaven, where we yet again ran into more old co-workers and friends, including my old boss and CEO. So yes... Everybody and their dog was out on the town last night. (And I literally means dogs... At the race, I had more than one pooch cross the finish line before me! Nothing like Fido killing 4 miles faster than you to deflate the ego.) I wish I would have done this one last year, I'd forgotten what a good time it is. So all in all, it was a great night of racing and hanging out with friends.

Team Run Big!
LtoR: Kelly, Me, Elizabeth, & Molly

Come to think of it, I guess I haven't updated the 'ole blog on my past 2 races either, huh? #whoops

So here you go:

RRS 2nd 5 Miler: 42:44 -- I wasn't feeling completely up-to-par and it was hot as hell (No excuses, right?? ;-) ), though I still did okay and put in a decent time.

Splits:
Mile 1 – 8:20
Mile 2 – 8:21
Mile 3 – 8:26
Mile 4 – 8:43
Mile 5 – 8:37
*I just LOVE when I do positive splits... pause NOT.
Time: 42:44 (8:33 pace)
Age Place: 15/60
RRS 1st 10K: 54:53 -- Often times, my running coach (a.k.a. my tyrant loving husband) & I get into fights. This day was almost one of them, until I decided 6:45am is not the time to fight since I was basically still asleep. He wanted this race to be more of a training run, where I paced myself and focused more on the hills during the course (i.e. run like hell up them & pace myself on the flat). I, on the other hand, looked at it as a race. I mean, I paid for it, right? I should run the crap out of it.... right?

But whatever.... I listened to him. He's the expert, right? #StillHaveAHardTimeAdmitingThat ;-)

Besides, if I had not given in and continued to be stubborn, Memphis Road Runners definitely would not have caught me using his jacket snuggling with him, as seen in the photo below. #HeWouldNotHaveReceivedAHugWhatsoever

Splits: All over the place with the hilly route and my pushing up those harder than normal!
Time: 54:53 (8:33 pace)
Age Place: 15/55

My Running Interview

I was interviewed by Alex on his blog, Running Addiction for this week's Tuesday Talk.

If you want to read an interview about my own running addiction and which celebrity I'd like to run with, feel free to CLICK HERE to check it out.

And please... No hate mail regarding my last answer. ;-)

A No Good, Very Bad Day

(I wrote this post yesterday but didn't post it and really hadn't planned on it at all. Though I decided to just go ahead and post today anyway. I'm physically feeling better today than yesterday... But yeah... Here it is.)

Well, where to begin? It's always hard to know what to say exactly in this type of situation. I don't even know if I'll end up clicking "publish" on this blog post because quite frankly - nobody needs to know, but hell... I'll write it anyway... whatever.

So today I had my second "female" doctor's appointment within a month. After this appointment I had expected to leave and finally happily announce to the world that Bryant and I would be expecting our second child. Instead, we walked away with the news that our baby's heart was no longer beating and he or she had died most likely about two weeks ago.

Yeah, I know. Talk about a shitty blog post topic.

This is definitely not the post I was wanting to write today, or had been EXPECTING to write. We found out the day after Cinco de Mayo that we were expecting (that would be May 6th for all you non-Mexicans out there. You are welcome for that clarification. I did live in New Mexico for 10 years, so I know a thing or two about Spanglish, margaritas, & empanadas...), and we have had the worst time keeping it a secret for the past month and a half since we were so excited! Luckily, God knew it would be best for us to NOT tell anyone yet (besides family & a few close friends) because He knew it would only be that much harder later on.

While I am extremely sad, and really unsure of what to think, feel or do right now (except cry my eyes out), I am so thankful that our baby is in better Hands now than he or she ever would have been with us. God decided to take our baby for a very good reason.... even if I don't know what that is. I'll find out someday, so it's okay. The whole situation is really sad, but I know with all my heart that God only works for GOOD! It says so in Romans 8:28... And that is what brings me the most comfort. This may sound corny, but I am absolutely stoked to go to Heaven someday to meet him or her. I have no doubt in my mind (especially after reading "Heaven is For Real") that he or she is there waiting for Bryant, McKenna, and I to show up! And yes - I absolutely believe that 5 year old little boy's story about visiting Heaven. Just because he still believed in Santa doesn't mean he didn't sit in Jesus's lap and meet his own unborn sister. :-)

I know miscarriages are pretty common (something like 1 in 5 women have one, I think?), but that doesn't seem to be making it any easier. I can't help wondering if it's easier for us now than it would have been 10 weeks, 10 months, or 10 years down the road? I'd like to hope so, but either way - it's never easy to lose a child... (Romans 8:28, Romans 8:28, Romans 8:28...)

So now what, you ask? I get to sit back, relax, and wait for this miscarriage to happen over the next 24 hours. Ugh. Talk about a blasty blast.

So there you have it. Today officially sucked. And so will tomorrow, I'm sure. But besides all the wasted mascara, I'm alright. We're alright... Or at least will be. :-) I have faith.

Matthew 18:14 - "So it is not the will of my Father who is in heaven that one of these little ones should perish."
Romans 8:18 - "For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us."
Psalm 34:18-19 - "The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit. Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivers him out of them all."
Romans 9:11 - "Though they were not yet born and had done nothing either good or bad—in order that God's purpose of election might continue, not because of works but because of him who calls—"
Jeremiah 29:11 - "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
Romans 8:28 - "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, whot have been called according to his purpose."

Thank you in advance for your thoughts, prayers, & patience as I blubbered through this post. Luckily, for all of us, you can't hear or see the tears, mascara, & and ugly cry faces I've made while typing this.

Oh yeah, and a word to the wise... if you are an expecting mother, never, EVER, EVER google the word "miscarriage" and then click "images." A very bad idea for the emotionally unstable.

Germantown Half Marathon Race Recap!

I know, I know... you've just been dying to hear how my race went last weekend, haven't you? (Rhetorical question.... no need to truly answer. I am pretty sure I don't want to know the real answer to that! ;-) ) As mentioned prior, this past Sunday I ran in the Germantown Half Marathon. (Which by the way, was also the RRCA National Championship Half Marathon. How cool sounding is that? I'm going to start telling everyone I've competed in a National Championship. It IS during March Madness, after all... ;-) )

So here is a brief run (pun intended!) down of how the race played out for me:

Mile 1: Get out of my way people!! I've got a National Championship to WIN!
Mile 3.5: Check the watch... averaging an 8:35 pace. Sweetness! I can totally keep this up! #TheyCallMePrefontaine
Mile 5: (sucking wind) Okay, maybe not... (gasp! gasp!)
Mile 5.5: OMG... this blows is so stupid much fun! Why did I decide to do this not do this sooner?? (gasp! gasp!)
Mile 6: Britney Spears just came on my iPod. Ahhhhh, yeah.... she always pumps me up. Hopefully these people around me won't mind my singing! "Now I'm (gasp! gasp!) STRONGER than (gasp! gasp!) yesterday..." (gasp! gasp!)
Mile 6.5: Dude, kill me now I got this. Halfway! That's it??
Mile 7.5: Um, is that a person sprawled out across the road? Yes, yes it is. Hmmm... She definitely doesn't look like she MEANT to lay down... Should I stop and help her up? .... (internal debate ensues) .... It would give me an excuse to stop running be a good Samaritan. Nah, there are tons of people helping her up. I would totally just get in the way. Besides, I've got a National Championship to win!
Mile 8: Why is my husband on the side of the road still taking pictures? Doesn't he know that I look best at the BEGINNING of the run? He's so dead....
Mile 9.5: (gasp! gasp!)
Mile 10: SERIOUSLY? (gasp! gasp!) Three more still left? (gasp! gasp!)
Mile 11: (gasp! gasp! gasp!) I... can't.... go.... any.... more.... (gasp! gasp! gasp!) My... legs... hurt... (gasp! gasp! gasp!) ..... Ugh. I'm being such an annoying loser! Keep going and quit complaining!
Mile 12: REALLY??? Who decided to put the last mile going UP a hill??? I'm going to have to have a word with these race directors...
Mile 12.5: I think I just died internally.
Mile 13.1: Holy Hell.... there go my legs.

So there you have it. I finished it. I ran the whole time. I set a new PR. And my legs dissolved off of my body immediately after. #RockOn

Below are some pics of the race for your enjoyment. And don't play like you aren't totally jealous of our "Team Run Big" shirts. They rocked. :-)

Team "Run Big" prepped and pumped for the National Championship!

This was right before Dale made us (unwillingly) go through a dynamic warmup. All I wanted to do was eat my breakfast, and he made me do shuffles instead... Ugh.

Obviously, this was prior to mile 9.5

I believe this was at mile 8, when I had to pretend to be happy for the camera, but internally I was cussing my husband. ;-)

Dale running after MK

ATTACK

Um, I wish somebody would have told me I'm an ugly runner! Haha! #HelloBadForm

Lacey, Steph, & I sweating it up at the finish! What you can't see here is our legs disintegrated right off our bodies.

 My first coke/soda since last summer. One has never tasted so good!

MK wanted me to race her after I finished....

And it hurt worse than the actual race did!

Apparently, my driveway is too hilly for me as well.