My workout clothes stunk. Literally. I’d soaked them, washed them multiple times on sanitize cycle, line dried them in the sun – even left them out in a storm hoping to get the stank out. Alas, nothing helped. It was time. I needed to shop for … dah dah duuuhhhhhhh. New clothes. I’m not a great shopper – I have the attention span of a toddler, the patience of a hungry infant, and a matching ability only slightly above that of my engineering husband (no offense, sweetheart). I’m pretty much about functionality, fit, and comfort. If it looks cute, that’s a bonus, but not a focus typically for me as I not only live in my workout clothing – I sweat – copious amounts – in my workout clothing.
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Preparing for race day is a mathematical equation for me. Hydration + Nutrition + Stretching = race day success! Now all people measure success differently. Crossing the finish line with minimal recovery time is how I measure my success. Time doesn’t mean much if I can barely move the next day. As a mom, my children rely on me being able to play, run and get out the door on time.
Our mornings move at a sloth like pace in on a good day. This can make preparations somewhat challenging. I have learned the correct amount of food and water is crucial before racing. Eating and drinking too much or too little close to the start time can hinder your performance.
This post is brought to you by the makers of MOTRIN®
Running is one of my passions but when aches and pains take over, that joy can quickly diminish. In general, this type of exercise is my escape from a place that can sometimes be chaotic. As a wife, the mom of two girls, a small business owner and blogger, life can be hectic! But when my feet hit the ground for a run, I release all the worries and my day makes sense. What happens, however, when every time one foot hits the ground the pain intensifies?
My legs are my life line to sanity right now. They get me from home, to my kids’ ballgames, back home, to the well worn path to the grocery store. And my legs get me out on the road running…the place I really find my center and zen. When I need to clear my head I grind out some miles and come back to my life with a clearer view and renewed purpose.
I love to run and where I live that means running on country roads. I’ve written about my love of running in the past and also about my desire to be safe while running. Being safe can mean a lot of different things – making sure someone knows where I’m headed on my route, or at least has an idea of the general direction I’m headed – being aware of my surroundings in case drivers aren’t aware of me – even knowing where the cows are out to pasture so I don’t startle them which WILL startle me.
I’ve been fortunate enough to return from all of my runs safely. Now I’ve got some added protection – in case I have a problem.
We may have mommy-brain about almost everything else, but the one thing we all know is how we like our coffee.
My personal go-to has been a K-cup of an insanely dark roast cut with half and half. There is something to be said for fast, easy, eye-opening caffeine consumption that even my kid can make. (Yes, I’ve taught my oldest how to set the coffee maker and how many splashes of cream to add for it to get to just the color mommy likes.) That convenience comes at a high cost however, with a large amount of waste I’ve never felt great about.
Wikipedia states that “A lumbersexual or urban lumberjack is a man who has adopted style traits typical of a traditional lumberjack, namely a beard, plaid shirt, and scruffy hair, substituting otherwise clean-cut and fashionable style choices. Do we ever have some lumbersexual gift ideas for the ones in your life.
I don’t know about you—but my body is definitely not the same since I gave birth. Sparing the gory details, let’s just say that some parts are not where they once were. So, for that reason (among many others), I was blown away by watching the Olympic champions competing in Rio de Janeiro this year…who also happen to be moms.
“How do they do it?” I ask myself. These moms prove that women aren’t past their prime after producing life, instead they highlight how powerful moms are by competing and excelling in the Olympic games. I figure, perhaps it’s because of how powerful we have to be every single day. I mean, let’s be real: women who can withstand childbirth can break records in any endeavour we set our minds to. We can achieve all of our goals and make our dreams come true, because we’ve already faced the greatest challenge: kids.
I try not to think about it, this aging business. It’s not easy. You think that the shock, after that first time you are called “Ma’am”, or when you realize the cute guy at the gym isn’t hitting on you (he’s trying to help you because you remind him of his mom) will wear off, and you won’t be quite as sensitive. You think that your skin will get thicker and you won’t notice. But you’re wrong.
I know every word to the theme song for Paw Patrol. I can recite Goodnight Moon forwards, backwards, upside down, and inebriated. I spend the majority of my days creating with play dough, kicking balls, singing nursery rhymes, and playing make believe games with plastic toys. There are a myriad of reasons behind my participation in all of these activities, the most important being that they interest my children. I repeat. They interest my children. When the sun goes down and the babies are tucked in to bed, you will not find me re-reading Goodnight Moon for the kajillionth time. As it turns out, I have a few interests of my own and none of them involve pups who save the day.