Dear Diary,
13. I PR'd the 10k last Sunday by about 10 seconds. I didn't beat one hour, but I scored third place in my age group. I'd like to thank my coach, who had me do a warmup before the race (it was 45 degrees) as well as thank the fast women in the 40 to 49 growho slept in, went to church, or whatever it is that people do on Sunday mornings.
12. The day before, I hiked up about 3 miles up into the Sandias and ran back down. Not a whisper from the ankle which, by the way, has no more bruising.
11. Through both of these, I had no ankle pain. So I consider the matter finished. A mystery, but finished.
10. The drama that is my only daughter has come to a close. She moved to South Dakota, where her father's people are, to go to job corps. South Dakota is a much safer place to be poor than Albuquerque. In Albuquerque, you have to live in a section called the "war zone". years ago, when I first moved here, I looked at a map that was color coded according to types and frequency of crime. The war zone areas were all bright, bloody red.
9. Meanwhile, youngest son returns on the 12th, while I'm in San Antonio. Still not ready to talk about that yet.
8. It was 27 degrees this morning. The San Antonio marathon is expecting a high of 83 that day. "Run fast," says Coach Baboo. Ha. Whatever.
7. Hey, where the hell is my yoga mat? I've got a Groupon for yoga, but you have to bring your own mat. What on earth could have happened to a yoga mat?
6. Considering the following races for 2012: Bander 50k, Grasslands 50 miler. Also considering the Javalina 100K again for 2012.
5. Also considering the Grand Columbian Tri v. Redman Tri. Yes, a TRI. With cycling and shit. The Grand Columbian has a special award for couples to complete the triathlon.
4. The kitten thing is getting old. My hands are hamburger. They, along with my feet, are covered in hundreds of tiny holes and scratches. So is my cleavage. I've gotten to where I just carry her straight out from me, which of course freaks her out more.
3. I didn't post anything because I've been emotionally preparing myself for Himself's departure. He is spending November and part of the first week of december in San Antonio at Officer's Basic training. I hate being alone. I truly do. I don't ever want to go to sleep, and I say up way to late, eating too much, watching too much TV.
This should give you a snapshot into my life if Baboo wasn't in it: I would be huge. I would still be running, because I have been running...but I would be huge. And tired. yes--I'd have dark circles.
2. So, but, Himself is flying me out to San Anotnio this weekend. I'm staying on base. It's kind of Himself's very own bootie call. He'll probably cringe when he reads this. But there it is. Oh, and the marathon on Sunday. My fantasy goal: sub-4:45. Hey, he's pretty damned lucky to have me as a wife, right? I mean, I'm all ready to run, and rhomp, and work out. And Sunday I'll run a marathon.
1. Oh, and did I mention that it's 83 degrees this weekend in SA? AND HUMID? Hmm. the hoped-for PR is looking dimmer and dimmer. But that's okay. I'll get a break from being clawed by tiny kitten claws.
Meow.
....ee