I Have Scallops in My Freezer

I have scallops in my freezer, and I'm a little nervous about it.

I love scallops.  I could pop them in my mouth like chicken nuggets.  I crave them when I watch Top Chef with the Hubs.  Inevitably, one of the chefs makes a delicious looking scallop dish. 

The problem is, I've never made them for my family.  I've never made them period.  I hear it's not hard (the cooking part, not the feeding to my family part).  I got brave at Walmart today and bought a frozen package of those round fleshy little seafood medallions.  I hope I don't end up regretting it.  I know Patrick won't touch them, but maybe if the sauce is simple enough, I could force/bribe/trick my kids into trying a bite of one or two. 

I think my confidence has been boosted by Thanksgiving.  Jackson tried the turkey and mashed potatoes at my parents house AND a bite of each dish on his plate at Patrick's mom's house.  Macy tried corn.  Both of these occurrences are big successes for me.  My children have not touched a traditional Thanksgiving dish since they were babies and still eating mashed turkey and sweet potatoes. 

I've also invested in these:

My son's a bit of a know-it-all (where did he get it from?  I just can't imagine...) and if anything I think he will get satisfaction from making sure I've filled up all the bowls correctly.  Secondly, these plates will keep me honest and make sure that my meals don't lack for fruits and veggies.  They won't solve all my problems, but they might help a bit.

I finished my half marathon, by the way.  It was fine, a little cold, but psychologically not near as hard as my first half.  I was stiff at the end so I didn't finish in the time I wanted but I was happy.  I ran a lot of the race with a guy who was running his 100th (!) marathon.  He's done a marathon in all fifty states.  Amazing.  That's a lot of miles.

The rest of my time?  Pinterest, pinterest, pinterest:

A "mindful" jar.  I'm slowly coming around to this "mindful kids" movement.  Basically, train your kids to be more aware of their feelings so they can monitor and redirect their reactions.  My son is a REACTOR.  As am I, sometimes, so I am learning as well.  If he (or myself) is tired, hungry, stressed, anxious, etc, than he (I) tends to get more worked up about things that really are not that big of deal.  So when he is "freaking out", I have him shake the mindful jar five times and watch the glitter float to the bottom.  So simple it seems silly, but I have witnessed it working with my own two eyes.  It doesn't work as well with Macy, because she is a "retreater" when she is upset about something, so if anyone has a jar for that, let me know.

Puffy paint.  One tablespoon self-rising flour, one tablespoon salt, enough water to form a paste, and food coloring.  We used cardboardish type paper (old coloring book covers).  Let the kids paint and then pop their creations in the microwave for 30 seconds.  Macy couldn't get enough of this project.  Most of those were hers.  Jackson liked to make 3D relief maps of the city.  Man, I love my little nerd boy.

The Elf on the Shelf!  We got our Elf from Santa two days ago, and he's already up to no good.  I think my kids are slightly freaked out that this guy is watching them and then doing weird things at night when they are sleeping. 

Finding new things to do with my too long hair.  This is after I left the sock bun in my hair overnight,easy heat free waves.  What I most like about this picture is that it looks all bloggy and artsy from the waist up but....

This is what was really going on.  Dirty bathroom floor, toy box, emesis basin(?) and a shopping bag full of bathroom supplies that need to be put away.

Thanks for the Support

The advice and support I've received regarding my kids and their meals has really helped pull me out of my slump. I feel rejuvenated to stick with the plan, at least for a little longer. I've added a few changes to my plan, thanks to some suggestions. I now require my kids to take one bite of the main course before being allowed to leave the table. I had avoided this before, thinking dinner would turn into more of a battle than it already was. Last night, with tortilla soup, it was absolutely not a big deal. Jackson even volunteered to make up a sign with the new rule on it.

"New Rule 1) 1 bite befor being exused"

I love that boy.

  

On a positive note, I have discovered quite a few new favorite recipes, some off of Pinterest, some from other blogs.  My most fav right now, is the Cajun Chicken Pasta off of Pioneer Woman.  I highly recommend the blog in general, but I use her site most frequently when I need a new recipe for the week.  I pick a recipe that has the most comments on it and am guaranteed a winner. 

Ellis loved the Cajun Chicken Pasta, too.  It was chock full of healthy veggies and great flavor.  As a side note, I could not find "Cajun spice" specifically, so I purchased "Creole" seasoning, and ended up with a delicious dish anyway. Maybe those two are the exact same thing, I'm not very clear on Louisiana vernacular.

The best, and most repeated, advice I've received is that "this too shall pass".  Kids have phases and this is just an especially long one.  If I stick with my guns, something, at some point in time, will change.  If I go back to how it was, than I am guaranteed that nothing will change.  Sigh. 

I have decided that I am going to write a book for new parents, so they don't make the same mistakes I did.  It will have only one premise.  If you want your kids to eat what you serve for dinner, serve it to them from the VERY BEGINNING.  Don't ever ever make them something "special" for dinner, unless it is a special night.  Maybe I'll just write a pamphlet.

My friend Hillary had a very good observation.  Our generation as parents have more dinner time issues, including but not limited to being "short-order cooks." This might be tied to distinct differences in how our households are run nowadays.  When our mothers got married, the cultural assumption was that they would have dinner on the table,every night, even before they started building their family.  When kids were added to the table, the dinner time routine was already established. 

Fast forward to modern time and, at least in my house, when a couple gets married, dinner on the table is a special event, not a routine.  My husband and I had (and have) such wonky schedules that sitting down at the table together was the exception, not the norm.  When kids were added to the table, we had to develop those dinner time expectations on the fly, and obviously didn't do too well.  What's the moral of this story?  Couples starting out on that family journey should establish their dinner time patterns early.  Dinner is dinner, if you're old enough to chew, than you will be eating what is served. 

Whew, that's enough of that.  Here's what else we've been up to:

Family pictures at Antioch Park.  The entire Schumacher side was photographed in all it's glory.  Thanks to my sweet sister-in-law for setting up the sessions, and my slightly metro brother who picked brown and "peacock" blue as our color scheme.  The Hubs and I haven't had a professionally picture taken of ourselves since our engagement pictures.  Yikes.

Deep cleaning.  I think my internal calendar thinks all this 60 degree weather means it's spring cleaning time.  I am slowly moving my way through each room, scrubbing, sorting, and throwing out ALOT of crap.  I've recycled and donated what I could, and am still left with several bags at trash time.  The environmentalist in me feels a twinge of guilt, but Lord it feels good to walk into a decluttered kids room. 

Another big clean out involved my craft "area."  Not just a drawer or a box, but an entire side of our basement.  That purge felt good, and also made me acutely aware of my hoarding tendencies.  I'm pretty sure I could of stocked a Hobby Lobby store with the amount of crap I had saved.  Need glass etching supplies?  Check aisle three.  Wood carving tools?  Right there next to the modeling clay.  Magnets, wire sculpting, scrapbooking, beads, embroidery floss, I got it all.  And I'm not even going to get into the piles and piles of yarn.

Advice Needed

So it's November, 2011.  I completed my major New Year's Resolution, to finish a triathlon.  There is one uncompleted resolution that is nagging at me, though.  The one where I resolved to get my kids to eat better.

To bring you up to speed, I decided I was going to make one dinner for EVERYONE, at least four nights a week.  No frozen pizza for the kids, no salads for me.  The children could eat or not eat, but I would not be a short order cook.  I usually ended up putting Patrick's portion in the fridge for when he arrived home around 9:00pm or so.

So I stuck with this, but 11 months later I am highly frustrated that I have seen little to no improvement in my kids' palates.  This, combined with the fact that I am spending more on groceries on a regular basis but throwing away more of each dinner, REALLY makes me want to quit.  Even Patrick doesn't always eat what I've cooked, mostly because he's not that hungry at 9 o'clock at night.  So it's me and the baby eating about 25 percent of whatever I've cooked that night, and the rest either getting moldy in the fridge or being thrown away.  Frustrating.

Really, the only thing keeping me going at dinner time IS the baby.  God bless her, she'll munch on red peppers and cucumbers while she waits patiently for her Cajun Chicken Pasta.  I figure at least I can keep her palate from shrinking, right?  In the back of my mind, though, it nags at me that all of my kids were adventurous eaters at an early age.  I seemed to do everything right until they hit about 2 and 1/2.

So, my kids go to bed hungry every night (they really seem to be getting used to it, neither of them ever complains about being hungry) and wake up to eat seven waffles each, and meanwhile I drink more and more wine at dinner to deal with the stress of another failed meal... Likewise, my husband silently cringes at the growing grocery bills every month.  Where do I go from here?  I've ordered a couple of books from Amazon, hoping to get back on the right path.  I'm a little wary, however, because I've tried most of the advice out there, including, but not limited to: 

1. Let the kids help with meal preparations.  We do this a lot and the kids have fun, I get to clean up a bigger mess, and dinner still doesn't get tasted.

2.  Let the kids pick out healthy foods to try at the grocery store.  We did this frequently over the summer, but I ended up eating a ton of kiwi and asparagus all by myself. 

3.  Let the kids plant a garden.  We've had a raised bed garden for three years now, and my kids do enjoy digging, planting, and picking.  Sadly, at harvest time, everything they pick they bring to me and say "Look mom, a tomato for you to eat!"  My kids apparently think I am the only one in the family that consumes vegetables.

I've tried everything, people.  New recipes, new vegetables, new plates.  I'm beginning to think the damage is already done and I might as well cook the kids what they want, so at least they get some calories in them every night.  I'm seriously thinking of consulting a nutritionist, or possibly Dr. Phil.  I'll give these new books a chance, and then... I don't know.  If anyone has some sound advice, I'm open to suggestions.
 

I need a GPS, please.

First off, a few pics to illustrate life of late.  My running scheduled has been derailed by a few things.  One, Halloween.  I LOVE Halloween, folks.  It's a holiday without pretenses.  I don't have to make sure my kids get the "real reason" for the celebration. It's all about candy and fun.  I don't care if you dress like a slut on Halloween, it just gives Hubs and I something to laugh at.

My favorite costume of 2011 is sweet Alice in Wonderland.  We have worked our way through every Alice in Wonderland book that has ever been published, including the real one by Lewis Carroll.  That man was certainly tripping on something, there were some weird characters that I don't blame Disney for overlooking.  Thankfully, my imaginative little eccentric didn't seem to notice.

The three black ninjas.  Aren't they a hoot?  Mine is the shortest little ninja.  Trick or Treating was so much fun this year with school friends.  These two boys from Jackson's class also each have a little sister around Macy's age, so the group had crazy fun running door to door.  As far as I know, the three boys didn't know what the others were going to be until the week of Halloween.  I guess ninjas are just in.

And lastly, this chunky little monkey.  She was originally going to be a duck, her favorite animal, but the Alice in Wonderland costume took up my sewing time.  Then I got the bright idea to crochet a Cheshire Cat costume to match Alice.  I got through the body and wasn't really loving it, so I dug out the old standby.  The sock monkey has survived three little toddlers over the course of five years, I think I got some good out of it.  It really wouldn't be Halloween if SOMEONE wasn't a sock monkey, right? 

So Halloween preparations took up about half of my normal running time, and then something I've nicknamed "The Devil" took up the other half.  Pinterest.  If you haven't found it yet, stay far far away.  It's a time sucker like that of a million Facebooks.  Now that I've warned you, here is why I love it.

My Pinterest pages are made up of  a few different things.

Hippos:

God bless them, if I could have a hippo pet, I would.

Hedgehogs:

I will have a hedgehog pet one of these days.  Mark my words.

Recipes, and crafts, most of them so far fairly successful; and lastly, awesome funny stuff:

I feel you Debra.

You just laughed, didn't you?

So with all this time wasting, I skipped my long runs for a week and a half.  Not running really affected my mood, which I will delve into some other time.  Since the half marathon is in just over two weeks, I thought it would be a good idea to make up for lost time and run REALLY long yesterday. 

A long run is not a big deal to me.  Physically I felt fine, but mentally...I had some issues.  First off, I decided to try a new route.  Bad idea.  I am completely directionally challenged.  I do not know which way my house faces, I do not know which way I am facing at any given time, and I am not good at just "finding my way" somewhere.  Also, I have a very bad obsession with needing to know EXACTLY how far I have run.  If I'm going to wear myself out, I need to know that I went as far as I intended. 

So, to start out, my trainer husband and I worked up a plan for my run.  I wanted to go 12 miles.  So we figured four to the new trail, four on the trail, and four home.  The four to and back were no biggies.  I knew the route well and there was only one turn.  It was on the trail where it all went wrong.

First off, Hubs told me to run to where the trail passes under "College" street (a major street in our city) and then turn around.  Sounds simple, right? Well, after I had started, I realized I didn't know which way College was from the trailhead.  Hmmm.  It took me another mile to figure out that I didn't really need to go anywhere specific, I could just run until I hit a two mile marker and then turn around.  Problem solved, right? 

So I got to the trailhead, and God bless them, there was a map!  This was going to be great.  I may not be good at directions, but I am a hell of a map reader.  Hmm, funny thing, the map was not oriented to the trail...So at the star that said "you are here," the trail went north and south, but the trail that I was looking at in front of me went right and left.  See how I was confused?  Hell if I knew which way was north.  So I shrugged my shoulders and took the path to the right.  I still only needed to go two miles, turn around, and then head home.  How could this go wrong?

So I ran about half a mile (Still had mile markers at this point.  This is important.) and saw a cute little bridge that angled into the woods and had a "zero" mile marker for a different trail.  Awesome!  I'll just follow this trail a couple miles into the woods, and then turn around, and I'm done.  La la la, life is good, wait, a fork in the road?  Hmm, this shouldn't be a big deal, I'll just take the path on the...left!  So I'm running up a freaking mountain, looking frantically for a mile marker so I could turn around and run downhill.  And I'm looking, and looking, and then about 15 minutes later, I see a sign.  I get closer and it says "Thank you for using our trails, love, Olathe Parks and Rec."  Uh, what?  This trail is done?

No problem, I'll turn around and take the other path.  If I ran an extra mile or whatever, all the more better for me.  I still needed to run a measured distance so I knew with certainty that I ran 12 miles.  So I took the path on the right, took a cleansing breath, and waited for my mile markers to start showing up.  And waited.  And waited.  And came to the end of the trail, again.  Now I was pissed.  I was pissed at Olathe Parks and Rec for posting a "zero" mile marker, and then forgetting the rest of the posts.  I was pissed at Patrick for thinking that sending me on a new trail was a good idea.  And I was pissed because in the back of my mind I was thinking that maybe I didn't even run a mile into the woods and that was why there was no mile markers!

I started my run back home, physically a little tired, but mentally spent.  I cannot deal with that much thinking when my body is working so hard.  So I spent an hour on MapMyRun this morning and figured out that I did make it to JUST 12 miles.  I kind of wish I ran like 15 or something, to make myself feel better, but at least I ran as much as I intended to. 

And the moral of this story is, I need a Garmin GPS.





It's been hectic around these parts. Most of my spare time is spent fitting in a run or working on Halloween costumes. I don't sew many articles of clothing for my kids, mostly because I don't have a good sewing space to lay out my stuff. This will change soon, however, as our basement is set to get finished within a month or so. The kids will be able play downstairs safely (no worries of dropping a 45 pound weight on their toe or anything...) and I will be able to lay out my sewing supplies without getting in the way of day to day life.

Anyway, I have always been dedicated to sewing at least one of my kids costumes. I even used to sew my stepdaughter's Halloween costumes back in the day. This year, Macy and Ellis are getting the homemade costumes. Hopefully I didn't bite off more than I could chew by committing to two costumes this year. Now that I think about it, I didn't make anyone's costume last year, so I guess I owe them.

Oh, and I got myself a pretty little iPad for our eighth anniversary. This beautiful piece of electronics seems to be eating up a teensy bit of my free time as well. I love this cute little thing. I'm going to think up the perfect name for her....

Patrick's gift from me has yet to arrive in the mail yet. It's coming all the way from Lithuania. It certainly doesn't compare to the iPad, but if it works, I think it will be worth it to him. I'll keep you updated on how that goes.

Good Bye, Sweet Lactose...

So, I'm trying a little experiment.  The idea came to me yesterday on my 9 mile run.  Yup, I ran nine miles yesterday.  It was freaking awesome, by the way.  I've committed myself to the Gobbler Grind half marathon, and I'm feeling a little full of myself. 

Anyway, back to my bright idea.  I've had issues for about the last six months or so with severe teenage acne.  I've googled until my eyes were blurry, like any good child of the internet, and devotedly tested each idea that I thought sounded plausible.  I've spent too much money on washes, astringents, creams, and zappers.  I've disinfected objects that come into frequent contact with my pores, including my phones, my towels, and my children.  To no avail.  I continue with large painful sores on my face. 

I used to roll my eyes at the poor people on the Proactiv commercials who's acne was the worse thing that ever happened to them.  Now I'm the self conscious one who is getting carded because I look like I'm struggling through a horrible puberty. I forgot how conspicuous you feel when your face is exploding. 

So as I was running down Santa Fe, I faintly remembered a girl at work telling me how giving up dairy cleared her adult acne up.  Hmmm, was this something I could do?  I had given up meat for a couple of years, I gave up carbs for almost nine months, could I refuse cheese for the sake of my vanity?  The idea behind this (yes, I googled it) is the extra hormones in milk add to the hormone levels in your body and in turn make hormonal acne worse.  Even "hormone-free" or organic milk has intrinsic levels of hormones in it, because milk comes from lactating cows, and you have to have higher levels of certain hormones to lactate!  It makes so much sense.  You can't have real dairy and have it be truly hormone free.

I'm not really a milk drinker, and I don't even have cereal for breakfast.  There are a few things that will be hard for me to give up.  Number one: string cheese.  This is a go to snack for me, probably at least twice a day.  I'm pretty sure they make fake string cheese, but I'm wary of the texture.  Number two: cheesy Italian food.  Lasagna, pizza, pasta with mozzarella, etc.  Especially pizza.  Dang I love pizza.  Number three:  McDonald's snack size Rolo candy soft serve ice cream thingy.  I am not typically an ice cream eater, it tends to hurt my teeth, but mixing delicious caramel and chocolate in the ice cream? Freaking amazing.  I have a sneaking suspicion that this is the root of my face explosions, too.  I can vaguely connect the nights where Patrick has brought home a delicious Rolo treat for me and the following days where I have super serious break-outs.

So, maybe it's premature, but I went the whole day yesterday without dairy, and my zits are all in healing stages for the first time in months.  I have no new breakouts at this point in time.  I'm going to give it a month and see what happens.

Mama Orrick's Christmas Wish List

I know it's early, but I've been coveting a few things and I thought I should send those wishes out to the universe (aka Patrick) because the universe is always asking for a Christmas/anniversary/birthday/Columbus Day wish list.

1.  Swim Paddles.  The kind that help you with your hand water entry form.  A guy I work with who also swims at my pool let me try his one day, and they were super fun. 

2. This sweatshirt:

Or really, anything from Victoria's Secret PINK.  I know it's sororityish, but their sweats and t-shirts are so freaking comfortable!  I love to throw on my neon green PINK sweatpants to head to the pool.  Especially in the winter.   And I love that they have KU stuff.

3. Moccasins:

They don't necessarily have to be UGGs, but I'm looking for warm slip-on type shoes to wear to and from the pool in the winter.  And I'm partial to cute colors.

4.  Ipad.  He's heard enough about this.  That's all I'm going to say.

5. Clipless pedals.  I know nothing about these, but if they come in pink, that would be cool.

6.  These sunglasses:

I've been running and biking in some old sunglasses I got from Walmart AGES ago.  They work, but it's probably time to upgrade.  I've never before owned a pair of sunglasses that cost more than 15 bucks, but I think I'm now mature enough to handle a bigger investment. 

7.  A giant tube of this:

I'm not really sure how I survived normal life without this.  I don't care if it is infused with fetal pig stem cells, I would ingest it if I thought I needed to.  My number one use is for razor burn.  My go to tri girl, Hillary, brought this to my attention.  I dug through Patrick's old tri bag, looking  for a free sample of this stuff, and I have been hooked ever since.  I also smear it on my feet before a long run.  I like to run without socks, and this stuff really stays in place over the course of 8 miles.  No blisters for this girl.  I'm half convinced this stuff might cure stretchmarks, but I don't want to waste it trying. 

 

8. And to go ahead and put my weirdness out there completely, I really want to try this stuff:

I am constantly on the hunt for the perfect meal replacement.  Not as a diet aid, but as a "My wonderful husband had to go into work early this morning and I have to get three kids ready and out the door by 8:00am" aid.  I've tried Herbalife (good taste, but don't understand half the ingredients) and Orgain (weirdo taste, expensive, but recognizable ingredients).  I saw a write up about Supergreen in "LAVA", the magazine for Serious Triathletes (it really says that on the cover), and am curious.  It is supposedly a true meal replacement made of only vegetables, legumes, and grains.   

So there you go universe, that's my Christmas wishlist as of September 29th...

I. Love. Triathlons.

I am hooked, people.  Absolutely, positively, obsessive compulsively hooked.

I have never had so much fun in an exercise situation.  I never once thought, "Why am I doing this?" (Okay, I thought it ONCE when I was standing on the shore in the cold September fog, waiting for the starting gun to go off...)

The fog was incredible.  Almost calming.  They had to delay the start by 10 minutes because you couldn't see the buoys.  I stayed up all night stressing about how cold the swim was going to be.  In actuality, it was about five degrees warmer in the water than it was standing on the sand.

I think my only disappointment of the whole day was that I didn't push myself on the swim.  I was so cautious out there, mostly because I didn't want to panic. 

Look at me checking every step.  I was sure I was going to fall running up the beach. 

Man that's an attractive getup.

Once I got on the bike, I threw caution to the wind.   I never once hit the brakes until I was turning the last steep hill into transition.  I picked off bikers left and right that had passed me on the swim, especially on the uphills.  I looked down at my bike computer at one point and saw 30mph!  30 miles per hour!  I had never before ALLOWED myself to travel that fast on a bike.  I remember thinking around mile five on the bike "Maybe I should pace myself a little, what if I don't have anything left for the run?"  I thought to myself, "What would Patrick do?"  The answer came easily: "Go. All. Out."  So I did, and I didn't regret it.

Pro:  I was smiling in just about every single picture taken of me.  It's obvious I'm having a blast.  Con:  I still look ridiculous in a bike helmet.

This is straight off the bike.  My legs are shaky, but I was super excited to be so close to the end.  I had just yelled at Patrick "Do I have everything?"  Transition (the time in between the swim, bike, and run) seemed too easy.  All the books that I had been reading really made a big deal out of people forgetting things in transition.  I was sure I had forgotten something as I was running out.

The only negative on the run?  My shoes made a squishy sound the WHOLE time.  I wasn't wearing socks, and I'm not sure if this was the reason why they squished so much.  I couldn't sneak up and pass people because they always knew I was coming, and usually sped up.  I listened closely to other people's shoes and never heard one other person squishing.  I was totally annoyed at my beautiful flower shoes.

This is the end.  It was a huge downhill finish, which was good for the ego.

The end.  I was so pumped.  I'm still on a high.

"The family that tris together, stays together!" -Kim Jenkins

The best part of the whole day was sharing it with my family.  My husband, kids, and dad were just around almost every corner.  They gave me an extra special lift.  Looking at this picture gives me a twinge of guilt because I have seen very few of Patrick's races due to my weekend schedule.  I wish I could give him the boost at his races that he gave me. 

It's also fun to race with friends. 

Navigating the whole triathlon world is a lot less scary when there's two of you.

Patrick is excited that I'm excited.  "I'm going to make you fast." 

He wants to get me one of those crazy helmets.  Maybe it will look cooler than the one I have now...

Just Keep Swimming

T-Minus Five Days and Counting....

It's almost time, folks.  Time for me to complete my 2011 New Year's Resolution.  I feel...okay about this.  I know I can finish the swim, bike, run, but I wish I could finish it faster.  This reasoning is ridiculous, I know, because the question becomes "faster than what?"  I've never completed a Sprint Triathlon before, therefore, whatever time I finish with will be my fastest time...ever.  Sigh.  I've just put a lot of time and effort into this and I want to compete (and look) like those freakishly fit triathlete women that I'm constantly surrounded by.

I AM excited to do this, though.  Training for this short little triathlon has brought my husband and I closer, I think, and increased my understanding of his passion.  While the kiddos were at my parents Sunday and Monday, Patrick took me to Kill Creek (where the race is) to do a practice bike and run together.  It was funny (I wasn't actually laughing at the time, too out of breath) to draft behind him on the bike because he was pedaling so leisurely, as if he was out for a casual neighborhood ride, while I was pedaling my ass off to keep up with his 20mph average. 

The bike route for the race was really pretty.  Lots of horses out doing their thing, big fields of stuff growing wild, cute farm houses, and a creek or two flowing past.  Only three big hills I have to worry about, but now I know when they're coming.  

There's just no chance of me looking cute in a bike helmet.

Next was the run.  The majority of the run is on a trail through Kill Creek Park and around the lake.  Very shady and green.  I was also holding my hubby back on the run, but I ran the three miles faster than I have in a long time (since half marathon training) so his pacing definitely helped me pick it up.  Too bad he can't be my pacer bunny on the day of the race.  

"Yes, as a matter of fact I am (married to) an Ironman."

I didn't feel terrible after this practice bike/run.  Also to take into consideration is the fact that Officer Orrick and I went out after work on Sunday night, ate a huge unhealthy creamy Olive Garden dinner and then played trivia until the wee hours of the morning at a local bar.  So I'm hoping I will perform even better next Saturday sans hangover.

And to top off the nice Labor Day morning spent with my husband, I ended the day with this:

Pink handlebar tape, people.  My bike is complete.  I had been coveting pink handlebars since I started training in January, but my husband pretended like it was a ridiculous idea.  He's good at tricking me like that.  At least if I can't be fast and skinny, I can be color coordinated.

City Girls Out in Nature

"Holy cow, Ellis Mary, did you see that?"

Note:  I may or may not of replaced "cow" with another more colorful word.

This morning, these two city girls were running their normal Friday trail.  Last Friday, I got super excited about a little lizard that crossed our path.  He was about 3 inches long with a fresh neon green tail.  I tried to stop to show my miniature running partner, but she was less than excited, and the lizard was too fast. 

This Friday, we got an even cooler brush with the wild side.

What's the matter, you can't see anything?  Well, I didn't see (or hear) anything either until there were three large deer leaping across our path about a foot in front of us.  I nearly peed my already sweat stained shorts.

Ellis took it in stride.  I can't get this girl excited about anything.

P.S.  This is the first time I've ever seen a picture of my third born that I thought looked like me.  Whoa.

There was the mom again, slowly walking away so I could get a better picture.  I realize there are deer everywhere these days, but jeez louise, I've never in my whole 32 years been so close to three of them at one time.  The thought that they might be sick certainly crossed my mind.  I realize most City Girls wonder this when Nature ventures out into the suburbs in the middle of the morning, but we can't help it.  It's what our parents always told us so we wouldn't try to touch the cuddly looking raccoons in our backyards.

"Mom, deer don't bite.  Seriously.  Chill out."

Things I Like

My Peral Izumi tri top.  It is not flattering, but it is the least unflattering tri top I tried on.  And it is pink and black, to match my helmet.  I never, ever thought I would be a person who would think wearing one of these was a good idea. 

My sweet running shoes.  They have flowers on them.  FLOWERS on running shoes.  Can you imagine my excxitement when these arrived in the mail? 

My six-year-old jogging stroller with my one-year-old chub riding in it.  Ellis and I discovered a "new to me" trail near our house and managed a six mile run together while the other kiddos were at school.  My husband had been telling me to try this trail for years but I was never sure how far it would take me.  I am the type of runner that HATES not knowing exactly how far I've gone. 

This trail has mile markers.  Duh.

Open Water, Take Three.

I did another open water swim last night.  Thanks to my awesome sister-in-law for watching my three kiddos, cooking them homemade pizza, and feeding me an amazing post-swim flatbread/gourmet cheese/artichoke hearts/sun-dried tomato creation.  She's such a domestic goddess I just can't even compete.

The swim was...better.  I anticipated where the swamp monster underwater garden was going to be, so I just did the breast stroke through the vegetation.  I guess I wasn't clear in my previous post, but these plants aren't just floating innocently a few feet below me.  They are tangled in my goggle straps, wrapped around my neck, and clinging to my toes.  You have to swim THROUGH them, not over them. 

My husband put it in perspective for me, though.  He described swimming in the ocean (a half a mile out or so) and seeing a giant shadow flicker below him.  He also described how sometimes, in the ocean, the tide shifts a bit and for a moment, you can see ALL THE WAY DOWN to the sand at the bottom.  You get a brief glimpse of how super deep the water is around you.  Yes, that sounds worse than some innocent lake plants.  Note to Self:  Stick to midwestern triathlons.

So now I have to work on my "sighting".  This is how you steer in open water swims.  Although my anxiety level was lower, my swim still felt super slow.  Mostly because every time I looked up, I found I was angled too far to the right.  I would then have to swim a few extra strokes to the left, and then check myself again to make sure I was on the correct path.  It was a total waste of energy and time.  I had no idea I had such terrible aim.  Near the end, I realized if I just swam to the left on purpose, I was actually going fairly straight.  I still felt inefficient like this, but I guess I'm learning? 

Open Water.... Purgatory?

So I jumped back in the water (literally and figuratively) and tried this whole open water swimming thing again.

Pros:

I got to swim the actual route that I will be swimming during the Kill Creek Triathlon. 

Kill Creek Lake truly is a very pretty lake, very clean, and fed by an underwater spring.  The temperature was perfect and the water was clear (see cons).

I finished the full 500 meters, and it didn't seem very far.

I swam after already biking and running for the day, so I actually completed a full triathlon for the first time. (Spread out over several hours, I know.)

Cons:

The water was clear. 

As I got 20 or 30 feet from shore, I could see the lake plants beneath me.  This seems so benign when I write it, but in the moment, it made me panic.  Bad.  To the point that I had to swim with my head out of the water a few times, just so I couldn't see the damn plants.  I also tried to close my eyes when my head was underwater, but this made me too disoriented.  I can't explain what about these plants made me panic.  There were no fish hiding in them (that I saw), and they were just cute little lake plants, doing their thing...

I was very upset by the reaction I had.  I called poor Patrick on my way home from the lake and bawled my eyes out.  I was upset that after all the hard work I had put in at the pool, my swim time was going to be screwed by my own anxiety.  I don't like being so controlled by panic.  My whole career is based on my ability to NOT PANIC, and here I was, worrying baselessly about water plants.  And the kicker is, I freaking love plants!  I even had a water garden in my backyard at one point!

So, I'm trying to draw from this experience to make my next open water attempt better.  I've googled "How to Overcome Open Water Swim Anxiety" several times today.  I always feel better the more I read.  I feel more in control of my situation.

I also do better the more I talk about the situation.  Hopefully rehashing it a couple of thousand of times will get the panic out of my head.  Thanks for listening.

Open Water Hell

The husband and I took our three small children on a mini-staycation this week.  We stayed at an adorable, fully equipped, AIR-CONDITIONED cabin at one of the local lakes.  It was such a fun trip and we made some sweet memories in our two short days there.

Except for one thing.

Swimming.

My kids had a blast, don't get me wrong.  They are still at the age where a too-warm lake and some fish bones floating by are interesting, and not gag-inducing.

I, on the other hand, nearly cried. 

This was to be my first practice at open water swimming.  It was just me and my non-judgmental family, the beach was completely empty of other swimmers.  I had never been one to be freaked out by bodies of water, no matter how murky or fishy they might be.  I floated the entire length of a dark Mexican River in a life jacket on our honeymoon, surely I could handle a little Kansas lake.

The first problem was the temperature of the water.  It was so HOT.  It made me feel like the water was too stagnant and shallow.  Then, the foam.  Every few minutes some dirty frothy stuff would float ashore and my kids would exclaim "Look mom, more foam!"  I then would yell frantically at them not to touch it.  I have no idea what this stuff might of been.  And if you know, don't tell me.  Unless it's something innocent, like baby shampoo wash off or something. 

So I waded out with my pink goggles on.  I looked back at my husband on the shore and yelled out "I can't do this!" and he, ever supportive, yelled back "Then don't!"

I swam out a ways, how far out I'm not even going to guess (it was not far).  I looked up like Patrick taught me to sight my buoy, and saw that I was nearly perpendicular to the direction I was wanting to go.  I knew it was easy to get off course, but seriously?  This made me even more anxious.  I felt out of control.  I was swimming in random directions in the middle of a large lake of cappuccino.   Complete with the frothy foam on top.  I was so anxious I could not focus on my strokes or breathing and was seriously getting out of breath.  I redirected myself back on course once or twice and then ended up turning around and swimming back with my head out of the water.  I was super disappointed in myself.

My husband told me (I don't know if he was lying or not, I don't care) that if it made me feel any better, he would not of swam at this particular beach, either.  Yes, dear, that did make me feel better.  He says that the lake that I will be required to swim in on race day is fed by an underwater spring and is a little cooler and clearer.  That also makes me feel a lot better.  I have not given up, but it is going to take a lot of practice to get over this new obstacle. 

One Kilometer

So my very good friend, Hillary, who is into her third year of triathlons, has three kids, and works as a PICU nurse, has kicked me into gear.  She signed up for the same Olathe Triathlon as me, at which time she will be roughly five months post-partum from her third sweet baby.  That, my friends, is amazing. 

I was chatting with her the other day, asking novice questions like "What should I wear?" and "What if I have to pee?" and we got into a conversation about swimming distances.  I know that I have to swim 500 meters for this race and had pretty much set my training goal right at 500 meters.  When I first started, I was doing well to swim 50 meters without stopping, so 500 as a goal seemed just right.  Well, Ms. Hillary said that HER goal before her very first race was to be able to swim TWICE the distance that she would be swimming at race time....1000 meters!  So this made me think I needed to kick my butt into a higher gear. 

So today, at the gym, I forced myself to swim 1000 meters.   One whole kilometer.  Twenty back and forths.  Forty pool lengths.  For me, that is a huge amount of swimming.  But I did it and I feel...fabulous.

On another vein, my husband gave me just about the best compliment he could of ever given me.  We were getting ready to swim side by side at one of our weekly lycra dates.  I was asking him about drills I could do to improve my form and this is what he said to me: "Your form is pretty much fine; now you just need to work on your speed and endurance."  My form is okay?  Really?  God bless that man.  He has no idea how I cling to the smallest things to keep me going.

I Love My Bike....and My Husband

I love this bike.  It is SO fast.  I was scared of it at first.  I felt like it's speed was too much for me to handle.  But I now understand the attraction to fast bikes.  The wind in your face, even on a 95 degree day, can't be matched.  I've become a bit of a bike snob.  Which is sad, because the furthest I've ever ridden is 10 miles.  When I see a fellow biker, I secretly judge their bike brand in my head.  Usually my untrained eye decides that mine is cooler.

I was very intimidated by the shifting at first.  My poor husband tried to explain the correlation between the small right shifter and the back gear blah blah blah.  This in turn served to make me a whole lot more nervous.  So he made me this simple reference guide, printed it up and taped it securely to my handle bars.  I love it so much.  Even though I feel quite a bit more comfortable with shifting gears, I will never take this guide off.  When I look down, I smile a little bit, because the man knows me.  And loves me anyway.

It's like the time he marked a turn-around point with a big brown rock.  He was out running with his fancy Garmin mileage thingy and stopped to lay a rock at the two mile point so when it was my turn to run (we go in child watching shifts) I would know where to turn around.  I picked that big rock up and carried it home with me and keep it on my dresser.  It makes me smile and keeps me going to know how supportive he is.