Eventually, if you wade through enough of it, you stop noticing the smell. (Thursday 13, the early edition)

Dear Diary,

13.  I mentioned last week that I had been in school continuously for 20 years, and a couple people commented to me on it. Yes, it's true.  I am that pathetic.  But part of the cure is admitting you have a problem, and I do: I am addicted to finisher's prizes.  At least now they are less expensive and help get rid of stress instead of causing it.
Meanwhile,

I can feel myself wearing down, and just in time, too.  I'm actually doing better than last year, when I was worn down by February.  I'm tired, depressed, anxious, and having bad dreams that involve rejection and abandonment.  I am, finally, and predictably, getting Too Old For This Shit.

I know it's just the whole grad school thing. I know it, but I can't feel it.  I just want to lay on a couch all day and do nothing.  I don't want to go anywhere, run, or write a paper, or make a phone call, or clean, or arrange.  Just lay.  And maybe drink cool, icy things. Which may, or may not, have ETOH in them.

12.  Saturday, I was bitterly disappointed to find out that Sweet Baboo got an email saying he'd been selected in the lottery for the La Luz Trail Run, and I had not.

Then.  A friend messaged me later to tell me my name is on the list, here:   http://ultrasignup.com/entrants_event.aspx?did=12328

So, I will begin training for this May 25th.  I'll still have a 50K to do in June, but other than that, I'm winding down for about a year of shorter distances and speedwork.  I'll still be running 5 days a week, but for much shorter distances.  I'll probably be keeping a 50K training plan recycling throughout the 2011-2012 school year while I'm interning.  My goal: Sub 2 hour.  Which, if you recall the profile, is quite ambitious.

11.  Saturday I ran a local half marathon while Baboo ran a 10K.   I had to run 15 miles Saturday, per Coach Baboo, and this seemed like a good way to do most of that, so he signed me up.  We like to support local races whenever we can, for reasons I'll mention in a bit.

It was beautiful, cool and just a bit breezy, and other than the smell of horses, the run through Albuquerque's North Valley area was lovely.  We ran past vineyards and farms and over acequias, and YES ALBUQUERQUE HAS THOSE THINGS, RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE TOWN AND THAT'S WHY I LOVE IT SO and underneath old, old cottonwood trees that arched high overhead, providing shade.

We finished at a local elementary school. It was one of those lovely local races where you get to see people doing their very first race of some distance, and their friends and families hold signs and cheer wildly for them.  I think everyone, no matter what distance they wind up doing, should support local races.  It's incredibly inspiring to see people doing their very first anything, whether it's a half marathon, 10K, or 5K.

10.  Sweet Baboo also did a race at the same time; he did the 10K.  It was on the same route except that halfway through they turned into another direction.  His race started 15 minutes after mine and so, predictably just before his mile 4, he blew by me at what seemed to be a dead sprint.

Trust me, it was startling to see him running that fast - he was running faster than others around him but was much larger (Remember, he's 195 lbs and 6' tall). He is qualifying for a military running team by running a 44-minute 10K.  I can't even imagine being that fast--I'm still trying to break an hour on my 10K time.

My time for the half-marathon was 2:16 and some seconds, by the way.  I was holding my own the first 7 miles, but then I started fading. Next time, I need more water.  And faster legs.

9. This past weekend I had my last big weekend.  The marathon Saturday was followed on Sunday by...nothing.  My legs hurt, especially the upper part of my quads.  So, I rounded out a 36-mile week.  Yes, it does still freak me out to see that written, even when I write it. I can still remember the first time I freaked out of a "5 mile slow jog".  It was supposed to be more, but I'm having trouble with energy.

8.  Last Friday a kid ran by my office, closely followed by people talking into radios.  They tend not to run, as there's not a whole lot of places where he can go, so they run in a loop.  When he ran by again they were further behind.  He stopped and threw a small rock at me, hitting me squarely in the right side of my $5 reading glasses.  Good thing I had them on.  I'm imagining his treatment review:

The client's strengths include good hand-eye coordination. 

Because, you know, it's all about focusing on strengths.   

7.  A woman asked me recently how I lost weight.  What could I say?  No, it wasn't easy.  No, I sometimes will think about chocolate cake. The woman, who is large for her height, said that she just couldn't see depriving herself.  Yes, it's true, I do deprive myself at times.  But I know the following is true:

• In life there are choices.  I made mine.
• There will always be chocolate cake.  I choose when and how to have a taste.  
• Chances are, the craving will pass.  It always does. 

6.  "Ever wish vegetables didn't taste so vegetal-y"?  Says the V8 splash commercial.  Uh, well, no.  I like it that vegetables taste vegetable-y, just like I like that potatoes taste potato-y, and chicken tastes chicken-y.  If I want something that tastes Fruit-y, I'll eat fruit.  Thanks.

5.  Last Thursday I woke up at 3 am.  No idea why, but I couldn't get back to sleep.  I lay there for an hour or so, and then went out in the dark and ran 4 miles.  During my run, several cars stopped at stop signs, and even though it was dark, they saw me.  Because they, you know, STOPPED.  at the STOP SIGN.
But not this guy.  No, the guy in the old geep grand cherokee blew the stop sign, and then slowed somewhat for just a second when he saw me.  Then he went ahead and turned in front of me.  I smacked his car with my open palm.  yes, he was so close that I could simply lift my hand and do that.  I didn't reach.  He blew his horn at me.  Baby.


Then, for some reason I cannot fathom, he drove up the street, turned around, and drove up alongside me to give me a lecture.  Now, I really wanted to say, you blew the stop sign.  Now go blow yourself.


But because of my new year's resolution, *I* am a calm person in charge of her faculties.  So I waved as I ran while he rolled alongside me, and I called out repeately, Have a nice day!  Have a nice day!  Finally he gave up and yelled "dumbass" and drove away.  Ooo. Ouch.

That was fun.  If all I have to do to piss people off is be nice to them when they are steaming mad, then there you go.  Win-win.

WHAT is up with people like that?  Seriously.  If you go to the trouble of turning your car around to follow someone on foot and tell them how they should behave, how sad is your life?  

4.    Thursday, I blew off my afternoon run.  I hadn't seen my doggie all week in the sunlight.  I was tired as hell.  I also wanted to make a special meal for my daughter to celebrate the fact that SHE GOT A JOB, YES, THAT'S RIGHT I got the internship.  I won't tell you what we ate.  It was a bit of hedonism.  Okay, I'll tell: it was a couple of bacon-wrapped fillets from the local commissary.

At one point, she looked at them and reported that her father (who I haven't been married to for two decades) told her that these were too small, and that he could eat several of them.  Well, of course he could.  Most of us could.  That's not the point.  Yeah, no shit.  But I have tried to teach my daughter two important rules in life, and one of them is: Just because you can eat all of it doesn't mean you need to do so.  Anyway. We had the tiny fillets, and I talked to her about eating it slowly and enjoying each bite, because when you do that, you don't need more food.  We also had steamed vegetables and baked sweet-potato fries.

3.  Oh, by the way, the other rule I've tried to teach her is: Just because you can get it on doesn't mean it fits. Words to live by.  They should be posted, like, EVERYWHERE.

2.  I met some kids this week that, frankly, reminded me of how awesome I have it.  That's it.  That's all you're getting.  HIPAA, you know.  Okay, so I'm a bleeding heart.  Bite me.  Seriously, what do you expect from someone in my line of work?  I don't know too many Social Workers that AREN'T bleeding hearts
But.  I'm a bleeding heart whose politics are based on evidence, not the "energy" I feel.  Not the "gut feeling".  Evidence.

1.  What I am about to tell you will make you hate me.  A while back SweetFace came for dinner and was playing with his new iPad. As he is my son, SweetFace is a serious tecchie gear whore.  I tell you, I was smitten.  I have absolutely no reason to buy one of these things; I mean, I've finished all my coursework DID YOU READ THAT, HAVE I MENTIONED THAT I'M FINISHED WITH ALL MY COURSEWORK, but I jokingly said to SweetFace, you should give your dear old mother this for mother's day.

"Why should I do that?"

Because they wouldn't give me any drugs and you were nearly 9 pounds.  

We laughed.

Then, a couple weeks later, Daughter joked with him about getting me one.  He pondered that for a while, and then said, "I think I will."

Why?

Well, it turns out that as a teenager back in '02, SweetFace wanted a particular motherboard of mine, so unbeknownst to me he swapped it out with another motherboard that had a lesser processor.  It was off a PC that I wasn't using at the time, and I don't remember it, so I must not have been aware of it. (Sign of a true nerd, by the way.  He didn't break into my room to steal money or prescription pills, no, he took a motherboard.)

It furthermore turns out that himself the SweetFace has a low threshold of guilt tolerance. As well, he wants a new 2G ipad and only by giving me his 3-month-old 1G iPad can he justify that.
I, of course, am torn.

• Do I be the "good mother" and say, "don't spend all that money on me?" or 
• Do I acknowledge that yes, he was a pain in the ass teenager and so I'm totally entitled to cool stuff, being as I raised him alone most of his life? or
• Do I simply allow him to assuage his guilt by accepting a very expensive (and very cool) trinket?  

The tie-breaker, of course, is that it's INCREDIBLY COOL AND I WANT ONE.  

So, in addition to the new Garmin 310XT that Baboo brought me, guess what else I'm getting for mother's day? :)  Yeah, I know.  You hate me.  Go have some kids of your own and instill work ethic and low guilt thresholds.  It will take about 20 years, but it's totally worth it.
...

[soon to be sent from my iPad. if there's an app for that.] 

.

and then there's the girl.

Hey, mom, I was wondering, um...

Yes?

Well, you know I was wondering, I really like Albuquerque a lot. If I was to come out there to live, if I could--

No.

--could I, could I, stay with you while I--

No.

--wow. You didn't even let me finish. I was going to say, 'stay with you while I look for a new job and a place to live.'

No.

Wow. Um. that was fast. um. I'm not trying to argue or anything...can I just ask why?

Because it is not a good idea for grown children to live with their parents. Because if you don't have me to fall back on, you'll be more careful about decisions you make. Because I love you enough to force you to be more careful about how you live your life.

so, hey, you lived with grandma and grandpa, right?

I did. Boy, that was a bad idea! I love you too much to make the same mistake that they made.

you love me too much to...no, wait. What?

Besides, I had a child, leaving an abusive marriage, and already had a good job.

...you had...so if I had a child would, you, could I--

Sweetie, moving to a strange city with no job or place to live is how people wind up homeless prostitutes. Then they have their children taken away by Children and Family Services. I don't want to visit my grandchildren in a foster home. Do you want me to visit my grandchildren in a foster home, do you dear?

I, uh, no. Um. What grandchildren? I don't even have kids yet, mom.

That's good. They make a 3- month shot now, you know.

Dad said I could live with him if needed to.

That's sweet. Say hi to your Dad for me. Are you still in that cult?

It isn't a cult. It's a real religion. Mom--

Yes?

never mind. I have to go back to work now. I love you.

I love you too, kiddo. Call me anytime.

...

Put it in the book.

Nearly 18 years ago I walked into Sacred Heart Hospital in Yankton, South Dakota, and you were born, my youngest, a few hours later, shy of ten pounds. If I had known you would be that big, I might have smoked or something. (I'm just kidding, obviously; please don't lecture me on the dangers of premie babies)

You, my youngest son, were ADORABLE. Big, blue eyes and white hair. I might have easily been one of those overindulgent mothers--except Sweet Baboo has reigned me in, convincing me that a man only learns respect if he's made to be respectful.

MOM: I HAVE DECIDED U WILL PULL WEEDS THIS WEEKEND.

SON: WHAT. IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!

Trust me, I know it's your birthday, and that our influence has been rapidly evaporating. We've been racing to have as much influence over you as we can, while we can, so that you'll be an honorable man that respects boundaries.

MOM: UR A MAN NOW. NO MORE FREE RIDES.

NOT SURE YOU WILL HAVE A FRIEND WITH YOU EITHER.

I want you to be able to make your own decisions, and solve your own problems, so that your life will be easier. It's good, at least for now, for you to suffer the delusion that you don't need me to make your way in the world. Meanwhile, though, it's time you started understanding that I have a life, too. It's not all about you. Maybe I have things to do now.

SON: U PROMISED R U CHANGING YOUR MIND?
MOM: I GET 2 DO THAT. U WERE SNOTTY.

U CAN'T TREAT PEOPLE LIKE CRAP AND STILL GET WHAT YOU WANT.

You may hate me, and complain to your friends about how horrible I am, but as I told you many times: save it for the book. Complain about me in your memoir, when you write one.

MOM: UR AWFULLY SNARKY 4 A NEARLY HOMELESS MAN.

SON: QUIT CALLING ME THAT.

I'm fearful of what you'll decide to do with your shiny-new, adult self. But in that worrying is the firm understanding that becoming an adult can be much more painful if I spent your pre-adult years rescuing you from every little thing.

Put in in the book. That's what I told you whenever you and your siblings complained about how unfair I was. Put it in the book that you got kicked off the swim team and I did nothing to stop it, that I turned you in for breaking school rules and you were put in the in-school suspension. Be sure to include that I made you walk 4 miles when you slept in and missed the bus, and that I didn't take your project to school when you forgot it, even though I could have left work to do it.

Eventually, you've been figuring out 1) not to get into messes, and 2) you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself.

This is good. Very good. I see people with ruined lives because they haven't figured out those things. I don't want you to be one of them.
I'm inflicting minor pain now so that you don't have it later. Put it all in the book.

SON: YOU'RE NOT BEING FAIR.

MOM: PUT IT IN THE BOOK.

Happy 18th birthday, my youngest son.

Have a happy life.

...

wait. what?

So, Friday's message from the Economics teacher was a progress report that highlighted Mini-baboo's deficiencies.  Mini-baboo, to remind you, is a senior, and has been vascillating between graduating/not graduating since January, when he must have decided that schoolwork was for suckers. 

So I responded to the teacher with a comment about how Mini-baboo needs to get his current events in, apparently, and that I was forwarding this to him.  I copied Mini-baboo to his email account.

To which he responded, by texting me.  He texted me, "don't email my teachers, you don't need to be in my business."  Oh, yes he did.  he texted me that.  from the phone that I PAY FOR.  The phone that I--wait, what?  I need to WHAT?  Rrrrr.

Life in the 21st century, arguing with your teenagers by text and email.

So I sent him an email:

TO: Mini-baboo1991

SUBJECT: Since you're all grown up now...

BODY: ...and you don't need me to email you or your teachers or be all up in your business, I'm thinking you can probably handle your own birthday celebration, you know, paying for it and all. That's my thought.  I don't know.  What do you think??

we'll see how he responds.  Meanwhile, the opthamologist says that my eyelid twitch probably is more likely from stress rather than too much thyroid medication.  Are you experiencing any unusually stressful events, he wants to know...

Moving on.

It is a truth universal that at some point in a young man's development, he will hate his father.

His father will hate him back.

And they will both want Mom/wife to do something about it.

So I did. I took a warm bath. And did sudoku.

Ahhh, but it was lovely....epsom salts, lavendar oil, and the window next to the tub open and a nice breeze flowing over me.

I'm not saying that teenage Mini-me isn't without his faults. Oh, my. If you only knew. I'll spare you the details, being as some of you are planning your families, some of you have children on the way, and others have already young children in the house so it's too late for you; who am I to ruin what little time you have left to enjoy them?

It's just that Mini-Baboo is a bit, shall we say, difficult these days, refusing to do what is expected of him.

He claims he "forgot" that he wasn't supposed to do that, or that he was supposed to do this...etc.

And, because Sweet Baboo was never, ever this irascible as a teenager he simply doesn't understand why we just can't sell him to the circus right now.

So, anyway.

While I was taking my warm bath I was thinking about all the things I'd like to do in the future.

The thing is, every time I do something difficult, especially something that I wasn't sure I could actually do, I go through the following stages:

Stage 1: During the event itself, I curse it and everyone whose involved with it and anyone who ever encouraged me to do it. I curse the natural elements that are making my progress difficult. I curse my mother for bequeathing to me her short and stubby legs. etc., etc.

Stage 2: Immediately after the event, I refuse to think about it.

Stage 3: A few days later, the painful details of the event start to wash hazy in my brain. I have a horrible memory, which is why I'm such a good friend to have. Most of the time, I won't remember what it was you did to piss me off, or I'll forget how angry it made me and think it couldn't have been THAT bad. Like right now, I'm thinking my sister and I must have been in a fight, and that's why I haven't heard from her in nearly a month, nor did she congratulate me on my Ironman finish, nor have I gotten any responses to my five emails.

I also forget about how long and arduous the training was. I recall vaguely thinking to myself at some point during July, Oh, my GAWD this is hard. How do non-teachers fit all this in?

Stage 4: It settles in, and I begin to have dangerous thoughts, such as, "I wonder what else I could do?"

So here I am at stage four. I've been mousing around the Internet and racking up a fantasy list of races I'd like to do someday.

I'm already signed up for Ironman Coeur D'Arlen since, while a judicous response to Sweet Baboo's pronouncement that he was going to do it would have been something like, "Good for you! What is the course like? How about the climate that time of year? Any wind on the course?"

yes, that would have been judicious of me, wouldn't it?

Instead, I said, "Cool! Put me down too."

So like I said, fantasy things. Actually, more than fantasy, a sort-of to-do list of things I'd like to accomplish in the world of endurance stuff.

First, I'd like to do a marathon in every state. I'm wise enough to realize that in order to do this I'm going to have to do at least three or so a year. (Except Alabama. Until my sister starts returning my emails, Alabama is blacklisted from my marathon goals for, like, EVAR) The run at the end of an Ironman counts, too.

I must be pretty lucky because at the end of each of the two marathons I've done, and most of my long runs these days, I'm usually not sore, nor have I had problems with blisters or muscle spasms.

Second, I'd like to do one or two more Ironman races, carefully avoiding any that have the word "challenging" and "rolling" in their course descriptions from now on, but mostly I think I'd like to do a few 70.3's in nice locals.

So here's my fantasy list of to-do endurance races, for now.

• The inaugural Mississippi Blues marathon in Jackson in 2008.


• Either the Duke City or the Fiesta de Albuquerque here, depending on which one I hear better things about.


• Goofy's Challenge in Walt Disney, California


• the Portland Marathon, where my father-in-law lives. He's pretty entertaining, and I enjoy visiting him.
  
• The San Antonio marathon, where my mother-in-law lives. This one goes past all the missions.


• Ironman Florida.


• Ironman 70.3 Buffalo Springs


• Ironman 70.3 Cancun. (Look at the website for this! Swimming in clear torquois waters? Running past Mayan ruins? Droooooooollllll.)


• Vineman 70.3.
  

I'll probably add to this list as time goes by, but that's what's on my mind for now.

As for the rest of 2007, I'm "off" until the end of October, when I do the SOMA half -iron in tempe. Duane will be there, doing the quarterman, and I think Nytro and Benny will be there, and Pirate is doing the half, too, although I'm fairly certain that she'll have time to finish, shower, and freshen up before meandering over to the finish line to wave me in.

Oh, and I have an appointment on September 15th for the IM tattoo.

...