Gimmesanity

This past weekend was my birthday - the big 30. Eep! In celebration, Monkey and I took a road trip down to Maryland to hang out with some friends and to meet up with some new ones.

Silly me decided that going to MDS&W on a Saturday would be a good idea. So, we headed out there and met up with Shannon and her little girls. We hung out at the mayhem that was the Ravelry meet-up long enough to get our buttons and ravatar stickers, and headed out to look at some sheep.

That was about it. No yarn was bought. There was massive consumption of root beer, though.

Shannon and I parted ways so that we could head out to packet pick-up for Sunday’s race. Sunday morning, at the butt-crack of dawn before the sun was even thinking about coming up, Angie and I headed out to go torture ourselves. Long ago, I had planned on running a marathon for my 30th. However, with a baby in tow, that was a bit impossible. So, I decided on the next best thing: drag my friends out of bed at an ungodly hour and guilt them into running with me, too.

I have the best friends.

The 30-Something Mommas

I ran s-l-o-w. Like, 10.5 minutes miles. But, I was super paranoid about depriving the baby of oxygen and all that, so I tried to keep running at ‘conversation pace.’ FYI, it’s hard to tell if you can still hold a conversation when you’re running by yourself. I’m sure I looked more than a little crazy 1) running the last leg of a marathon with my baby bump, and 2) mumbling to myself.

Monkey even made it out with LittleFace to do the kid’s fun run, which she found to be anything but fun. Ah, well. Maybe the running will rub off on her someday. She did get her first bib, race shirt, and medal, though.

After the race, because running 5 miles with a 7-month bump is apparently not enough movement for this crazy woman, I headed back to MDS&W sans chit-lins so I could walk hobble around and spend my birthday moneys. It turned out to be a great way to stretch out my legs and replenish all the grease and salt I had lost during my run via copious amounts of lamb sausage and french fries. Oh, and strawberry lemonade, for all that sugar that I sweated out (sweated? swat? swoted?)

The haul:

Noro Sock Yarn, because I’m easily influenced by others.

Buttery cotton for the Bean

Enough Melody to make this.

Sheldridge Farm in an appropriate shade of PINK for the Monkey

Lorna’s Laces in Black Purl

I’m back to writing papers and trying to not drive myself crazy. Two more weeks of classes left, then we begin packing for our big move at the end of the month. Please have a big, cold vodka drink for me.

Who all is going to the MD Sheep and Wool Festival this year?
It seems like I time my trips to MD to coincide with the fiber festivals - last time I was there, Stitches East was going on. heh.
Anyways, this is totally good luck because, people, May 3? It’s my birthday!!! And, not just any birthday, it’s my 30th. Huzzah!
If you’re going, let’s meet up! I’ll be there visiting friends and running this marathon - as part of RELAY team, not the whole damn thing because even I am not THAT crazy. I’ll be six months along by then and I’m thinking 26 + miles would be bit much by then.

Speaking…er, blogging? about the belly, here’s a gratuitous 18-week bump shot. I’m supposedly measuring right on track.

My goal for the half marathon was 2 1/2 hours. My head told me 2 1/2 was reasonable, especially considering that my training was interrupted half-way by a stupid gall-bladder surgery. I had lost so much muscle - my legs were still thin, my thighs didn’t feel anywhere near as strong as before. So, yeah, my head said 2 1/2.

My heart told me 2…well, 2:05:25, actually.

Mile 12, still kicking ass.

And, of course, post-race refueling to replace lost carbs:

The beer was delish, but I wouldn’t recommend seafood tacos after a run. Just saying.

One of these days, I’ll post about what this run meant to me, on so many levels. Running - it’s cheaper than therapy. Many thanks for all your kind words and encouragement. They all helped me run that much stronger.
A gazillion thanks to the C-Cs for being such fabulous friends and putting us up for the weekend! Muah!!

Oh, and even more gratitude for all the well wishes for Jojo. Surgery went well, and she’s recovering like a trooper. Rumor has it she was up and taking her first tentative steps the very next day. = )

One of my favorite things about summertime is heading to the farmers market. I love food, and I especially love good, fresh food. Tomatoes and zucchini are a staple here during the summer, as are strawberries and watermelon.

Yesterday, I got home from a particularly shitty morning. I had spent the day looking for daycares for Monkey, and it sucked. I was famished, frustrated, and in need of some comforting. What better way to heal a grumpy mood than with a toothsome meal?

Toasted sourdough bread (I ran a garlic clove over it after it was toasted), a Parmesan-crusted turkey breast from the night before, baby spinach in a simple balsamic vinaigrette, and sliced green tomatoes. I felt like a million pesos after this lunch.

I had my post-op follow-up appointment this week. The doctor said everything is healing well. I’m super-thin, though. I lost so much weight with the move, getting sick, and then the antibiotics. Anyone who’s met me can see that I don’t have too many pounds to play around with. I look like a crack-ho. While that look may be fun for some socialites, I’m not a fan of it. I’m latina, I’m supposed to have curves and a booty. Anybody wanna throw a few extra lbs my way? Seriously, though, I’ll be making more rice and beans for dinner…with butter. And cheese. And potato chips.

He also said that I can resume training next week. I signed up for the Baltimore Half-Marathon last month, but having an organ removed kinda threw a wrench in the training plan. I have just under 8 weeks left to train…7 if you count the fact that I can’t run until next week. Will all the muscle I’ve lost, I’m not sure if I’ll be ready in time. I guess I’ll just train and listen to my body and hope that I can at least make it in under 2 1/2 hours.

Oh, and I’ve been knitting. See:

*Monkey’s way of asking “What are you doing?” in her chipmunk voice…over and over and over again.

What I’m doing (besides procrastinating and not writing term papers nor studying for finals, obviously):

Surprise knitting. I’ll show this one off after it’s been gifted. (Ssssh, no ruining it if you already know what it is!)

Arctic Diamonds Stole - this one is my evening knitting, when I have a mug of hot tea, some muzak in the background, and the window wide open to let in the yummy almost-summer breeze. I hope to have this one done before it gets too hot to knit with a woolen stole on my lap. Playing on Google, I discovered that I’m not the only one still working on this. Misery loves company, y’all.

OK, it’s not THAT bad of a knit…I just wish it was more portable and that I was a little less dense so that I wouldn’t need to check the pattern every 2.7 seconds.

My sweater, still on the needles, still on the back. However, once my surprise knits are done, I’ll be taking this one everywhere with me…at least until something else piques my fickle knitting attention.

My feet are so not this freakishly different in real life.

Breaking in new sneakers (tennies? running shoes? What do you all call them?) A friend dragged me to Jackrabbit for a fitting. I was SO not buying their gimmick. Pshaw! Film me while I run? Puh-lease. I was wrong. This store rocks, and their prices aren’t bad. Buy two or more pairs in one visit and you get 10% off. Do what we did - go with a friend and then pay the other back.

I’ve been wearing the same sneakers since I ran the NYC Marathon in November. I was in desperate need of new shoes, but I couldn’t find the ones that I buy. I was on my 5th pair of the same shoe. I found them here, though (these are actually the newer, sleeker version of my old shoes.) The gentleman at the store let me know that my shoes were perfect for me. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. It was good to have someone tell me what I was doing right and how I can correct any mistakes. Very cool.

And, through all this, what was Monkey doing? Why, getting into my lip gloss. Duh.

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

I swear, sometimes I think there’s really 5 of her running around at the same time, terrorizing, screeching, and giving me gray hairs. She’s got good taste, though. She went straight for the Dior. That’s my baby girl.