Friday, February 8, 2013

That time I ran a lot and random thoughts

So this one time, I ran a half marathon.  Now, I know, that's not crazy impressive.  Literally, millions of people do it every day (that is not a researched stat and is not a proper use of the word literally) and some people even run 26.2 (loonies).  And my time wasn't crazy impressive by any means.  My goal was to run the race the whole time and only walk through the water stations (because I apparently haven't been running enough to drink a glass of water and run at the same that a learned skill?), which I did!  My sister, brother's girlfriend/sister's roommate/my friend (that is one super cool person named Monica or Caca if you ask Easton), and I all ran the half in Galveston a couple weeks ago.  It was a blast in retrospect (although it started sucking around mile 9 and didn't stop until they gave me free pizza at the finish line).  I am pretty sure running a half is like giving birth--you have to forget the pain and then that crazy person in you decides that you should run another one.

(don't they do that at the Olympics?)
(proof I actually crossed the finish line)
(Thanks, bud.  Other funny signs that our husbands/boyfriends/friends made: "I thought this was a 5K, hurry up!" "I trained for 4 months to make this sign" "You're beating people!")
So that's my not-so-major accomplishment that I've taken on in the last few months.  I have been training since the end of October.  It was great timing because my training fell during Justin's off-season chunk of the year so he was able to watch Easton on my long runs.  Let me remind you: I was not a runner.  Like not at all.  But now I love it.  I have no idea what I am doing and felt so out of place among the real runners, but I would totally do another one.
Baseball season has since started so I've dusted off the trusty old jogging stroller.  If you've never run with a jogging stroller...don't.  It stinks.  Luckily, training to run 13.1 miles makes it little easier to run 3 or 4 with that beast.  Easton loves that I take him along on my runs.  He barks at all the dogs and quacks at the ducks in the ponds along our neighborhood trails.  It's quite entertaining.

(it's a rough life when someone pushes you while they run 4 miles)
Other random thoughts:
I am wondering if maybe we missed our window for wanting more children.  See, Easton was a breeze from about 9 months until, oh, about 15 months.  Then he decided he has opinions and thinks that he has the right to enforce his will on situations.  Ugh.  I feel like my entire day is spent just trying to get him to eat something other than peanut butter banana sandwiches and cheese and take naps. It's exhausting.  Don't worry mom and mom-in-law, I'm joking.  You'll get more grandkids. After Easton graduates, maybe.  ( I'm kidding...but can I just say it is so hard to say that this mom thing is hard some days because every other mom seems to be rocking it at their house.  Their kids never misbehave, always eat everything they are given, take 3 hour naps every day, and never, ever, ever, ever throw fits when their mom takes the remote away from them.  Some days I feel like a rock star, I-could-be-Mrs.-Duggar type mom.  Other days I feel like a sit-com mom--you know, covered in food and worn out all the time.  Only it's not funny and doesn't end in 30 minutes.)
(this was today at lunch...apparently he didn't want to eat his broccoli bites.  At least that's what I think he was trying to tell me)
I am loving Beth Moore's Beloved Disciple.
I am experiencing a super sweet time of growth in my relationship with the Lord.  The kind of time where I crave every second I can get with Him.  I have a renewed love for his Word and his people.  He's doing big things in me...I'm just trying to let him.
I am enjoying watching my husband fulfill his purpose in this stage of our life by coaching baseball at school.  Easton loves going to watch him, too.  He sits and points at Justin on the field and says "Daddy! Bay-ball!" and points to the bleachers and says "chair" to every.single.bench. 

I learned that if a sports bra says that it's "compression", it ain't joking.  Great for running...but sheesh.
I love watching my son idolize my husband.  Can't blame my baby at all for loving him as much as he does.
I am thankful to establishments that have double seater shopping carts. I spend my days with two boys (and, no, EVERYONE in the grocery store, they aren't twins) that are under the age of 1.5 years.  One can walk but is too young to walk anywhere in public without holding my hand, which is too hard when you are carrying a giant 8 month old (seriously...he's 96% for height. Such a sweet chunk!).  Unfortunately, this is Target's solution for needing to cart around more than one kid.  It's seriously like driving a bus.  Damon (the sweet boy I babysit) was at least a million feet away from me.
 I am curious as to how a 1.5 year old and an 8 month old (who can't crawl yet) can make this much of a mess in a morning.  Seriously?