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I was up in New York this past weekend at a family wedding. (I am under great pressure to post a funny report on this wedding from my relatives. However, I have also received the threat “This does not go on the blog!” more than once.) Living in this censored environment where I type and re-type and estimate which information won’t offend my Aunt’s and Uncles too greatly, I fear my report may be boring and take longer than expected.

For today, instead of a boring wedding report, I will give you a boring running report. Although the majority of my readers find these running reports dull indeed, Tech Support loves them, and without him and his insistence that I start writing, this blog would not exist.

I am also well aware that while I was Up State partying with the clans, he was home, faithfully caring for our children. If leaving him to fend for himself and four children wasn’t enough to put me on the bad list, his team (The Cowboys) played my team (Da Bears) on Sunday. My team played well. (The sighting of a Bears team playing well is rare indeed and for them to play that well against the Cowboys made for a happy day for me.)

Oh yeah…I am supposed to be trying to get back on the good list.

While up in New York, I ran a mile and a half one day and two miles the next. The weather was delightfully cool and the scenery around Lake George was lovely. Throughout the weekend, we had pleasant Autumn temperatures.

Unfortunately, the State of Virginia has not gotten the memo that Autumn started today. It is 90 degrees here. The weather is uncomfortably hot and the scenery is drought stricken. It is certainly not a day that inspires running. However, Dale thought it would be a good day to run eight miles without drinking any water. When he started to feel woozy, he figured it was best to come home.

Oh yeah…the good list.

Yesterday, I lengthened my running distance in a completely happenstance manner. I ran the distance Dale told me was a mile, than ran down to the creek, ran back by the crazy rose lady’s house (she waters), ran the mile route back, ran to the path road and back home. I figured it had to be greater than 2 1/2 miles.

For the benefit of my husband, I even kept split times on my watch. I ran the first mile in 12:35 and the back home mile in 13:33. I finished the entire route at 42:48. Dale took this information and plotted the distance. Dale gets excited about anyone running, even his wife who runs very slow and not very far.

He called this morning, and in an excited voice, told me that I had actually run an entire 5k. I was relieved by the news and for the first time felt confident that I could run the entire turkey trot.

Next, he pulled up the turkey trot results for women from last year and informed me that although I wouldn’t be in the top 100 for women aged 40 -45, I wouldn’t be last.

“Won’t be last!” is such an encouraging motto.

I am not the only runner that Dale is coaching. Since Josiah’s cross country season started, Dale has been pulling up results and making calculations and offering racing advice to his son. “I think this team has peaked,” he’ll say, or “You need to stay up with the [opposing team] runners.”

I have threatened to purchase him an “I am not the coach” t-shirt to wear to meets, but for now I won’t. I’ll wait until I’m back on the good list…but I fear it may take awhile.

Josiah had his first Cross Country meet last Saturday.

All last season, I threatened Josiah with buying a cowbell to clang as he ran along. Last week, I actually found a cowbell in the store and knew I had to get it. Gabe and Zeke were with me at the time, and remarkably, Zeke kept quiet about it. (Zeke loves to reveal things to others that he has been told to keep secret) Most often, this secret information is who has been eliminated from some TV competition that his father has not yet had a chance to watch.

On Saturday, when Josiah started his race, I clanged the cowbell proudly. I then handed it off to Gabe who cut across the course with Abby and Dale to the one mile mark. Zeke wanted to go with them as well, but he was not allowed.

Dale does not like to run with anyone, be it his children, a friend, a relative, a person trying to use him as a pace setter, a friendly guy out for a run and hoping for a chat, his wife, or the dog. When he is forced to run with someone else, he will run three steps ahead and one step to the right. I believe he raced orienteering in high school, because a person can be eliminated for following someone through the woods.

I could tell by the look on his face that he was reluctant to even take Abby and Gabe with him. I should have warned Abby and Gabe not to be offended when, in his pursuit to get back to the finish, he left them behind. However, I did have enough sense to tell Zeke, “No, you can’t go with Daddy. You have to carry a lawn chair over to the finish line and sit down and wait with Mommy.” Zeke had a really sad look on his face as we trudged over. In an effort to lighten his mood, I fed him some candy corn.

One thing I hope I got Dale to agree to this year was to wear his running clothes and running shoes to all meets. Last year, I watched him running across fields and through the woods to get to mile points while wearing leather sandals and jeans. “Please just wear your running gear,” I pleaded. “I know you won’t be able to stop yourself from running about even if it is not your race.”

He did wear running gear for the first meet, but we’ll see.

Josiah ran a better time on this course than he did on the same course last season, but he has a ways to go to get back to the speed he was racing when the season finished last year. I knew he was having a tough race when people were passing him as he approached the finish. The boy has a good kick, and rarely do people pass him on the finishing straight.

On a brighter note, the team captain ran his best race ever. Sam joined the cross country team a few years back to lose weight and get in shape. Over the years, he has lost 40 pounds and dropped his time from the twenty-eights to the twenty-ones for a 5k. When he crossed the line, we cheered like crazy and rang the cowbell like mad.

While innate running ability is always exciting to watch. Watching someone succeed through hard work and perseverance, always inspires me.

I am still plodding along towards my goal of running the 5k (3.1 mile) Turkey Trot in November on Thanksgiving morning. At the end of June, I was feeling good and had worked my way up to two miles.

Then the summer heat and my inherent laziness dealt me a blow. The temperature repeatedly rose above 90 degrees and with high humidity, even at 0800, I lacked all energy to run very far. My runs shortened to a mile or a mile and a half. When I finished running, I would be dripping with sweat.

One morning, in a heat daze, I found myself walking along and it slowly dawned on me that I was no longer running. “When did I stop running?” I wondered, but had no answer. Thankfully, I arrived home safely. I drank a lot of water that day, for I recalled the dazed man I saw almost collapse within sight of the finish line at Dale’s last race. The man had no idea where he was or what he was doing. A kind bystander, who he almost collapsed on, helped him across the finish line and into an ambulance.

In my dazed state, I thought I could hear past drill instructors yelling at me from my memories, “Drink Water!”

Blaze wasn’t too keen on these summer runs either. At the end of each run, he would be panting heavily, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. Trust me, this wasn’t a result of my rate of speed. To get back at me for this torture, Blaze would take an inconvenient nature break that forced me to carry a smelly bag as we plodded towards home.

During the summer, I was the one taking Blaze out of his kennel in the morning, so he couldn’t escape the leash that forced him to run. Now that school has started, Gabe feeds him and puts him out in the backyard first thing. The other morning when I opened the back door, leash in hand, ready for the run, Blaze high tailed it down the steps and under the porch before I could grab him. Not wanting to crawl under the porch to drag him out and not wanting to play “Catch me if you can!” (which I can’t), I just went running by myself. As I left, he sat at the gate and watched me go.

Last week, the oppressive heat finally broke and I began to consider reaching the two mile mark again. I set before Dale the task of finding me a two mile route. While it is true that Dale already has a two mile route starting at our house, plotted out for Josiah. It is also true that I don’t like that route, because it involves hills.

Be warned: If Dale has plotted out a route, it is best not to disparage it in any way.

I asked him to plot out my new route along a flat stretch of road in distances of 2 miles, 2 1/4 miles, 2 1/2 miles, 2 3/4 miles, 3 miles, and 3.1 miles. While Dale was attempting to do this, I interrupted him and asked him to do something else.

Be warned: This annoying habit of asking someone to do one thing and while they are in the middle of it, asking them to do another thing, is my best effort to drive family members, relatives, and friends crazy. When I do this to you, consider yourself one of the family.

Because of the second thing I asked Dale to do, he was never able to finish my new routes. However, he did tell me where exactly the one mile mark would be.

A few days later, I ran the route Dale originally plotted for Josiah.

Be warned: I do some things just out of spite.

Josiah and I got up a little after 5 this morning so we could run a 10k race together. That meant Mugs, our personal cheering section, also had to get up with us. It wouldn’t have been so bad not getting to sleep in on my day off, if we hadn’t stayed at Mike and Joanne’s until about 10:30 last night. Here we are, bright-eyed (me) and bushy-tailed (Josiah):

Before the Start

This was Josiah’s first 10k, so he set a goal of about 50 minutes. I’m pretty comfortable at this distance and set a goal of 46:30. You can check the pictures below to see how we did.

Maybe next time Josiah won’t spend so much time on Wii dancing the night before a race!

Back in January, I attempted to start running. It was a difficult start and continues to be a challenging pursuit. On the first day, I could only run a quarter mile before I had to start walking. I gradually improved my distance to a mile. Unfortunately, I began to have shin pain, so I took a break for two weeks.

I restarted slowly again and was able to gradually increase my distance to a mile and a quarter. I stayed there for quite awhile, because I was often carried away with cross training in gardening.

My friend recommended that at the end of my mile and a quarter, I continue walking for the additional distance I hoped to soon run. I took her advice mostly. I must admit I replaced the exhortation “walk quickly” with “keep walking and don’t pass out.”

This morning, I ran for a mile and a half. I am now almost half way to my goal of being able to run the 5k turkey trot on Thanksgiving.

Yesterday, Zeke and I went out into the backyard to admire the sunflower seedlings growing in the garden. It started to rain, so I told Zeke we needed to run back to the house. He took off at a sprint and I followed at my slow trot. When he realized he had out paced me, he turned around and said, “Mommy, since I’m faster, hold my hand and I’ll help you.” I grabbed hold of his hand and he pulled me along with him.

My husband is also surprisingly supportive of my pursuit. He no longer runs next to me chanting “on your left…sick call…AWOL…can’t be…like me.”