At some point during all of the marathon training and stress, I managed to put on 12 lbs.  I know it’s not all 12 lbs of gross-ness, since I still fit in most of my clothes, but I definitely feel it.  More specifically, I feel it when I run.

So, with the help of a friend who is also looking to drop about the same amount of weight, and Weight Watchers, I am hoping to get back down to my fighting weight in time for the marathon in 8 weeks.

Dear skinny jeans,

I’ll be back in no time.

xo,

cc

I was on track.  Life was great.  And then I got some curve balls.  And I handled them, I think, to the best of my ability.  So, in a nutshell…

Marine Corps Marathon almost didn’t happen; I got pretty sick in early September, and couldn’t run more than a couple of miles at a time for the 6 weeks prior to the race.  That’d be on top of being a craptacular runner, in the first place, in the Northern Virginia summer humidity.

But, since I had my sister and two friends coming to also run it, I figured I’d suck it up and give it my best.  My best was 40 full minutes slower than National Marathon back in March, but I did finish the race in 4:38.  I was really disappointed with the time, but pleased that, despite walking, I finished.

My hips hurt like nothing I’ve ever felt before during that race.  I literally had to stop 4 or 5 times just to stretch them out.

I loved having company here for the race, but it was a tad hard to be a good hostess feeling the way I did.  Luckily, expectations were low, and we all had a fun time.

I swore off distance running for awhile.

So, I ran a 1/2 marathon 2 weeks later.

And despite having a sub-4 hour full marathon months ago, got my first sub 2-hour 1/2 marathon.

Those hips were still killing me.

The only other race of the fall was a Thanksgiving Day 10k that I did pretty well in.

And that’s the last third of a year’s running; pretty weak.

But, I am ready for the New Year, ready to amp up my mileage, and ready for, despite swearing off distance, the last 8 weeks of training for Gasparilla Marathon on 2.28.

I might be crazy.

i haven’t written in weeks. my running is sporadic. christmas continues to elude me and my heart is broken. as i bring 2009 to a close i can only hope that i can put what has been a rocky latter half of the year behind and rediscover the strength i know i have.

there’s no real need for me to detail the reasons for the relationship failure with jc. though i feel there are certain aspects over which i have the right to be angry, for the most part no blame can be attributed to anything more than bad timing. i like to hope that someday we can reestablish the friendship we had for so long before trying to be together, but to be honest, i’m not sure its something of which i am capable. i love him. very much. and to allow him back into my world in that capacity would merely be a tease and an excuse to keep alive a tiny bit of hope that i think is best cast aside. today marks one week since i’ve heard his voice or seen his face and in that week i have yet to go one day without tears. the day will come soon, very likely today for that matter, that i will have to see him. and i simply hope that i am enough of a professional to separate there from here. i have taken some time to explore and accept my role in things and the pattern i tend to play by has become clearer. and i know that much of this is not about him. so much more is about only me. that discussion, my friends, will follow someday soon when i have a better grasp on having to come face to face with painful self disappointment.

as i slowly regain firm footing and collect the emotions that are scattered around me, i am also prepared to recommit to the run. he never asked me to stray, but i chose to give him much of what i gave the road. now, my heart belongs again to me, to the miles, to the sound of empty footfalls on a long stretch of road or the dirt path that leads to nowhere. last week i made the decision that i will not run the gasparilla full. i need to heal ~ physically. i need to heal ~ emotionally. to take on another 26.2 right now was an avoidance with potentially dangerous results. so i stopped to breath. accepted the step back. and i am going to allow myself time to remember i run for fun. i run for emotional release. i run for camaraderie and friendship. i do not run to win. i do not run to prove a point. i do not run for anyone other than myself. last night i took the first steps in over a week. they started timid but found the rhythm. 4 miles. not completely pain-free. but by the time i was done i knew that the injury was more to the heart than to the ankle and that in time both would heal.

i’ve never been one for new year’s resolutions or the fan-fare that ends one calendar year and begins another. but this year i must find some peace of mind in putting things behind me and looking forward to the unknown that awaits. and this year i vow only one thing ~ to let go of the fear of letting others down and allow myself the right to define MY life.

My best friend, Tatty, is a piece of work. We’ve known each other since high school when we spent six weeks in Europe on a school-sponsored trip and just tore the place up. I don’t think we realized that there was no drinking age in Europe when we got there, but as soon as we figured it out we took full advantage of the situation.

Tatty has varied interests. She owns her own lawn-care and landscaping business. She’s a  licensed fishing boat captain. And she’s a hunter.  She’s all the things girls aren’t supposed to be. I just love that about her.

So last night she called to give me an update on her life in Astatula, Florida. Astatula, I think, has one stop light. To those people who think Florida’s not in the South, let me set you straight. She was telling me about this meat ‘n three I just have to go to when I visit her. It’s called the Speckled Butter Bean and it’s right in the middle of a flea market! She told me that she saw one woman in there the other day who was so large she was sitting on two chairs! People should know their limits, don’t you think? And then Tatty was telling me about the salad bar with three kinds of potato salad, one of which has bacon and cheese in it. Only in the South do you have salad bars with potato salad.

So the biggest shock of the night was when Tatty told me she’s been appointed to the city council! I can tell you that her mother would have never predicted that. But Astatula’s having some situations that are common in small Southern towns. I think you know what I’m saying here. Tatty said that some of the public in the audience objected to putting a girl on the city council. That was the wrong thing to say in front of Tatty. And you know what? She’s now in charge of the police department! Hell hath no fury.

So, this is what Tatty looks like. She’s had blond hair down to her butt as long as I’ve known her. She wears it in a braid. It’s her signature look. This picture was taken in Mobile a few years ago when the Chicks cooked a barbecue contest. Tatty cooked the fish for one of the side contests and came in third!

I know I’ve been going on the last few posts without giving you a recipe but tonight I’m giving you one of Tatty’s best. It’s actually out of the Gasparilla Cookbook, published by the Junior League of Tampa. Tatty’s mom was the editor. Gasparilla is this ridiculous spectacle that occurs in Tampa every year when the city’s most important men get dressed up in pirate costumes, consume mass quantities of alcohol and float into Tampa Bay on a pirate ship. Fortunately, the food is good or otherwise it would be a complete waste.

So here’s a recipe Tatty’s cooked often from the Gasparilla Cookbook.

Fish Russian Style

3 trout

Olive oil to cover

Salt and fresh ground pepper to taste

1/4 pound butter, browned (if you don’t know how to brown butter, Google it)

Pepperidge Farm bread crumbs, rolled fine

3 hard-boiled eggs

Pimiento and parsley to garnish

Fillet three “good size” trout (about 1 pound each) or use 12 small fillets. Marinate one hour in olive oil to cover, placing fillets in a large oven-proof dish in a single layer. Drain off oil. Lightly sprinkle fillets with salt and freshly ground pepper. Add browned butter. Bake ten minutes at 400 degrees. Turn fillets, sprinkle generously with bread crumbs and bake ten minutes more, basting occasionally. Garnish with grated hard-boiled egg, finely chopped pimiento and minced parsley. Serve in the baking dish, with lemon wedges.

I just have one more thing to say about Florida and the South and then I’m done. There are a couple of very fine recipes for pimiento cheese sandwiches and onion sandwiches in the cookbook. That is completely Southern. I’m just saying.

The folks running the 2010 Gasparilla Film Festival are accepting submissions now through December 15, 2009 for the 4th annual Gasparilla International Film Festival, taking place from Thursday, March 18 through Sunday, March 21, 2010.   The early bird deadline is September 15, 2009; the regular deadline is November 15, 2009; and the late deadline is December 1, 2009.

GIFF is truly an international festival, accepting film from all around the globe, along with popular Cuban selections. Categories for 2010 include:
Horror
Comedy
Documentary
International
Young Filmmaker (under 25 years old)
North American Drama
Short Film
Florida Focus
Informative filmmaker panels and workshops and networking opportunities with industry leaders and film supporters are available throughout the festival.

Click on the link for full details: #mce_temp_url#

Film buffs should go to the following link for more film-related links:

#mce_temp_url#

You can sign up there for a free weekly newsletter that will keep you

abreast of the world’s filmmaking news.

I just can’t seem to commit. No, not to my marriage (Mom and Mom-in-Law — put the phone down). The thing I’m wishy-washy about is sure to bring me far more pain than Jared ever will. Or at least I sure hope so.

I went to the gym with my neighbor the other day, and she mentioned that she and her husband were planning to do a half-marathon at the end of February. February, 2010. That seems like a nice, long way off. And so, of course, doing the race sounds like a great idea.

The problem is, I’ve done one of these before.

That smile has nothing to do with the fact that I'd run 13.1 miles. It was only there because I knew I'D NEVER HAVE TO DO THAT AGAIN. My friend, Jami, though -- she was ACTUALLY smiling.

It was hard. Like, really, really hard. The training was tough, but not all that bad because, well, I didn’t really do it. I think I ran 10 miles at one point, but until race day, I’d never done 13.1. Thirteen point one freaking miles, people.

(And hey, you — the one who runs marathons with the kind of speed I reserve for running after a child who stole my ice cream? You can kindly keep your pie hole shut, thanks. For regular, human people, 13.1 miles is a long goddamn distance to run.)

Anyway, for many months after the race (which was in December 2006, I believe), I swore I’d never do anything like that again. And then, a funny thing happened. I started to want to run one again. I guess I just wanted to prove I could do it again, or something equally insane. I’m pretty sure it’s the lame ass runner’s equivalent to women forgetting how awful labor was when they decide to have another baby.

So, when my neighbor, who just had a baby, as a matter of fact, mentioned training for this, I said something like, “Holy hell that’s a terrible idea! Don’t you know how hard that is?” Only it came out more like, “You know, that sounds like fun. I’d love to train with you.”

(It should be noted that I initially called her to see if she’d like to come over for happy hour and instead asked if she wanted to go to the gym. Days like that, I should just keep my pie hole shut.)

So. End of February. Running 13.1 miles. But at least there should be pirates and beer. Lots and lots of beer.

Christa Benton

Let’s start at the finish.
“It’s like a big party,” says Christa Benton. The finish is where everyone cheers and pictures are taken. Ripe yellow bananas are passed out and everyone is wrapped up in space blankets that make them all look like skinny baked potatoes. And there’s water. There’s a lot of water.
The finish is always unpredictable. This year, one of the top finishers crossed the finish line, dropped unconscious to the pavement, and was rushed to the hospital. It’s not that uncommon.
For Benton, though, she was able to cross the line and wobble to the tent on her own. “This time was the best I’ve felt at the end,” says Benton, who had spent the past three hours running the weaving 26.2 miles that is the Boston Marathon. Actually, it was just five seconds over two hours and fifty minutes, which was a personal best time.
“Sorry if I’m walking funny. I’m usually better by Day 2,” says Benton, as she awkwardly gaits into the kitchen for a diet soda. Forgiveness isn’t necessary for the slim 25-year old, and her occasional stutter step is easily overlooked. Benton spent yesterday’s blustery morning racing through endless hills and city streets on her way to being the 28th woman to cross the finish line in the 113th running of the oldest annual city marathon.
Benton was one of about fifty runners to be part of the Elite start to the annual race, which is only for the most serious contenders. “You can’t get on the line with the Ethiopians and Kenyans without being invited,” says Christa’s mother, Jenae, who made the trip up to Boston for the race.
But even that’s not really where it begins. It begins with a meek, quiet adolescent and a gregarious, ornery old man.
Benton always loved being active and being outside. She enjoyed playing sports throughout elementary school, but her parents put her and her fraternal twin brother, Roddy, in kindergarten at age four, so she was smaller than her classmates, and not very coordinated. It was only because of a few friends that Benton ever went out for the track team near the end of middle school, but that was when she met perhaps the most influential person in her life, Coach Lance Lipham.

Benton and Lipham

Lipham coached both the cross country and track teams, along with teaching English at Keswick Christian School, and he helped bring her out of her shell. Benton was always smaller and less-developed than her classmates, but running provided a sport that she was able to compete in despite her tiny frame. Lipham would encourage her to make friends at the meets, and as she went through her high school years, she developed into a more complete runner and a more complete person.
“He always told me that it doesn’t matter who you run with or against,” says Benton. “It didn’t matter if it was a big race or a small race, he always told me ‘Go run your own race.’”
Benton remembers flying to Boston before this year’s race. As the plane was at cruising altitude, she remembers looking through her window and seeing the fluffy white blanket of clouds below, and thinking “Wow, that’d be cool to run on.”
It’s one of the few surfaces Benton hasn’t run on. She has run, and won, countless races in her 12 years of running. She won the Gasparilla Distance Classic, and she won the Bay to Bay race. She has Mickey Mouse trophies from Disney, and medals with alligator heads from a race in Gainesville. She won this race and that race, and most of the ones in between. She’s won so many races and accumulated so many trophies that her mother doesn’t save them anymore. One race on Picnic Island awards a first place trophy with a golden runner on top of a piece of stone. A few still sit on the shelf, but Benton won so many that her mother began lining the driveway with them.
Lipham started with her when she was 13, and the two would run together at school, on the Pinellas Trail, and on Clearwater Beach. Quickly, though, Benton began outrunning her coach, so he would provide her with a detailed description of where to run, and would always meet her right back where they separated.
“I guess I got used to running alone,” says Benton. “No one could keep up.”
After numerous wins at the state finals in both cross country and track, Benton earned a scholarship as a runner at the University of South Florida. The accolades continued at the college level, as Benton earned the Freshman of the Year for cross country in 2001. She became the first USF athlete in the history of the school to be an All-American, which she earned in 2003. And in 2004, she was honored in cross country as the Conference USA athlete of the year.

Benton racing through Boston in 2008

Throughout college, she always kept close to her high school coach. Once her college eligibility was complete, Lipham finally gave her the green light to pursue the marathon. He told her that the longer the race was, the better she would be at it. He wrote her out a big training schedule and made a big plan for every race. Benton still has about ten years of training logs stacked up in her bedroom.
Benton is different than most of the runners that share the Elite status. “They are professional athletes. They go to sports psychologists, massage therapists, dietitians,” she says, rhythmically counting each one off on her fingers. Benton is an elementary music teacher at Northside Christian School, and when she can, she also helps coach. “They train every day, and I could do all that, but,” she smiles and with a bit of a shrug says, “would I be as happy?”
Having done more than a handful of marathons, a longtime dream started to become more realistic. An Olympic dream.
“It’s something I’m definitely pursuing,” says Benton, who is eyeing the 2012 Games in London. “I think it’d be using my gift to the fullest.”
Female distance runners peak later in life, so it could be 2012, 2016, or even the Games in 2020. “I have a lot of wiggle room,” she says.
Coach Lipham was there to encourage her in that dream, and began to dream up training regimens to get her to a time of 2:47:00, the requirement to get into the American trials.
“He told me, ‘On the right day, it’s possible. With the right training, it’s definitely possible,’” says Benton, possibly one of the strongest distance runners in the world.
That’s when Coach Lipham was struck by cancer. It was a road she had gone down before. Her father, Rodney, passed away from liver cancer two weeks before her tenth birthday. Another mentor, Randall Kile, her high school band director, also died from cancer, following her high school graduation. And now, her teacher, mentor, coach, and father-figure was stuck in a bed fighting pancreatic cancer.
“As weak as he was, I only saw how strong he was,” says Benton. Lipham was diagnosed in November 2007, and received chemotherapy and outran the cancer for nearly a year until it finally caught up to him as July rolled into August in 2008.
On a Sunday afternoon, she gathered her courage and went to see him. He was lying there, having a difficult time speaking. He looked at her and said, “Thank you. I love you,” and even as he struggled, a little bit of his humor kicked in and he said, “That’s it.” They were the last words they ever shared.

Lipham coached at Keswick for twelve years, and Benton was there being coached by him for nearly every one. They shared the struggles and they shared successes.
“He always made it fun,” she says.
Today, the track at Keswick they both shared so many times is memorialized with the name of her beloved coach.
Thanks to her strong faith, she is able to view the bigger picture. It has provided her with a different perspective. An eternal perspective. She wears a green wristband inscribed with an excerpt from Hebrews 12:1, what she refers to as “The Runner’s Verse.”
“Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us…In Memory of Coach Lipham.”
And that wristband bounced with her ever step she ran yesterday morning, all 26.2 miles, through Hopkinton and Natick, past the halfway point, up and over Heartbreak Hill, and across the finish line in Boston. The ultimate test of endurance.
“The target is what’s after the finish line,” Benton says with a bright smile. “The best is what’s after the finish. The end is just the beginning.”

after disney my writing sort of dissipated. as did my regular training. both were to be expected as i simply scaled back my running to simply be for me. and since i wasn’t writing regimented weekly updates, i went back to using words simply to heal or question. but now that i’ve committed to the marine corp marathon in october, and to (god help me) attempting to qualify for boston, i need to get back into a rhythm of both. my actual training schedule for mcm won’t officially start until july but the months between now and then are going to be just as imperative to my training as the ultimate 16-weeks. so i am going to try and get back to writing a weekly running update. i’ve proven that the distance is not going to be an issue but time is going to be of the essence and i need to start monitoring things closely.

but before i start anew with my running highs and lows, i’ve got a couple stories to tell of recent races not yet written of.

the gasparilla distance classic has always been “my race”. for years my job put me in a working role with the race director. she always encouraged me to run. i always told her it would never happen. ha. look at me now. though i ran a couple 5ks prior, what i deemed to be my first “real race” was the gdc 15k two years ago. and then the half last year, my first half, became a milestone in my running that put me at a crossroads of whether to continue running or simply quit. and, tempted as i was to quit, i perservered. this year, the only reason why i ran disney and didn’t hold out for the gdc to be my first full marathon was because of the time frame. the races were pushed back a few weeks due to the super bowl being in tampa and i wasn’t willing to risk the florida weather. up until a few weeks prior i was almost convinced to tackle another full, but i opted to stick with my plan and register for the half. that, it turned out, was a good decision.

saturday was beautiful. cool temps. sunny skies. ideal florida late winter weather. i spent the morning downtown supporting those in my group who were running either the 5k or 15k and posing as the group photographer for the day. ryan hall was running the 15k which added a level of excitement to the race and the energy of the packed course, and a shopping excursion at the expo had me fired up and eager to run the next day. but by mid-morning all ears were on the weather report for sunday. bad storms were moving in and a stalling front kept bringing them in earlier and earlier with each passing hour. rumors were circulating about the potential of the sunday races ~ the half and full marathon ~ being called on account of severe lightning. when my alarm went off early the next morning i had to flip on the news and check the gdc web site to be certain the races were still a go.

reports at the starting line were that the weather should hold off. there was one band of storms anticipated that would hit that weren’t expected to last more than 15 minutes. why are weather men always wrong? the humidity was brutal but the rain was holding off and i found a good pace early on. i felt comfortable i could pr if the weather would cooperate and for the first seven miles all seemed good. but as we turned onto bayshore, a long stretch of road that runs along tampa bay, the intensity of the wind that smacked me in the face was like none i’d ever experienced in my short few years of running. instantly my pace dropped by 45 seconds. every step felt like i was pushing against a wall. with very few people around me, i couldn’t even find someone to draft. it was three miles of sustained wind with gusts up to (i think i heard) 30 mph.

when we turned to come back up bayshore my pace dropped back to where i wanted to be and i tried my best to make up the time lost. but when the rain started coming down hard at mile 12 i succumbed to the unlikeliness of a pr. i finished with a 1:57:58. a missed pr by merely 59 seconds. given the weather i can’t complain but i always kick myself in the butt when that close. could i have pushed a few extra seconds in the beginning? fought the wind a little harder? kicked it in at the end a little sooner? but another half sub-two-hours. all in all, i’m good with that.

i spent the next few hours huddled in our tent with others from my group. in spite of the weather, i wanted to see everyone of my “team” still on course finish. the anticipated 15 minutes of rain stretched into hours and the temperature dropped by bounds. one by one we brought people in. JJ, his maiden marathon voyage, ended potentially close to mild hypothermia, his lips blue and his body in bad shape. everyone doing the full missing anticipated goals by an average of 20 minutes. we brought the last one in at 5:15:17 just as the sun decided to poke it’s way through the clouds.

it was rough but it was worth it. somehow a race that tough makes the success even more satisfying.

a few weeks later came the

shamrock 10k and 5k ~ a small local race that my running group puts on. many in my group opt not to run it since we need to staff it, but i’ve been little by little trying to get sab interested in running and she had the goal of running a 5k with me. we picked shamrock since it’s small and with it being staged by my group, she would have an excess of support.  since she’s only eight, and i had no intention of letting her run alone, my initial plan was to simply do the 5k with her but after realizing the 10k started an hour beforehand, it seemed ideal for me to race then pace. if i did it right, i’d have plenty of time to recover between the two.

i started out the 10k feeling like garbage. i’m not sure if it was lingering hangover from girls night out on friday or “feminine issues” ~ there really is nothing worse than having your damn period for a race! from the first step i felt tired and weak but i was determined to PR. though i never gu or anything on distances under nine or ten miles, i was thrilled to find a lingering bag of sport beans in my spibeltand i popped a few at about mile four. that helped ~ a little. at mile five i decided it was time to catch up to three women i’d been following closely behind. a couple of them appeared to potentially be in my age group and knowing this was a small race, i hoped to place. but try as i may, i simply could not close the gap. we passed mile six and i searched for the push i can almost always muster. with about a tenth of a mile left i found it and i broke into a full on sprint and passed all three to cross the line with a 17 second PR of 52:50 and a third place finish for my age group. i did come to find out later that one of the three women i passed was in my age group and had i not found that sprint, i wouldn’t have my first running trophy.

after a few minutes to catch my breath and rehydrate, i got back on the starting line with sab. our plan was to run the first mile then walk/run the rest. given the minimal “training” she had done, i anticipated our finish time to be somewhere in the 50 minute range, maybe a little faster. the most sab had run straight prior to the day was a mile and after hitting that point she never wanted to continue walking or trying to increase the distance. i refuse to push running on her. if she takes to it, i’ll be thrilled but i refuse to be the kind of mom that tries to force a child into certain extra-curriculars. but as recent as  a few days before the race i’d given her the opportunity to switch down to the kids’ 1-mile fun-run but she insisted on the 5k.

we hit the first mile right where i expected ~ about a 12:30 and as planned slowed to a walk right after. i began giving sab little goals. we’ll walk for 3 minutes … then run for 3. or we’ll walk to that tree up ahead then run until we reach the next water table. though i certainly would have walked at any given point she needed, i was quite surprised that she adhered to almost every goal i gave her. and if she did slow, a simple positive “you can do it” was enough to get her going again. with about a half mile left, we saw eko heading toward us. it’s pretty standard in my group that someone always brings you in if possible and certainly the last runner on course never finishes alone. sab thought it was the coolest thing that he came back to run her in.

as we headed into the final stretch i asked sab if she wanted me with her or if she wanted to go it alone. she told me she could do it alone so eko and i pulled off to the side and watched her go. not only did she finish running, she showed herself to truly be my daughter and sprinted across the finish line for a finish time of 40:41.

so there’s the recap. outside of racing my running has been pretty solid. i’m out with the group more often these days and truly enjoy the camaraderie i’ve come to find with them. i know their support will be crucial at mcm and the training prior.

now, since the weather has changed and we seemed to have skipped right over spring and into summer, my focus will be more on training and my race participation will scale down to a few scattered 5ks. well … with the exception of tomorrow. i still want that half marathon pr so i figured i’d take one more stab at it before it gets too hot. i’ll let you know how that goes in sunday’s weekly update.

The gasparilla half certainly qualifies as an experience and a half. I didn’t train for it the way that I should have. In fact, I wasn’t sure that I would be able to run, let alone crawl the full 13.1 miles. Thankfully, I did. H and I did walk a little bit, but at the absolute most it was maybe a mile, probably more like a 1/2 mile.

The weather was horrible. It was very very windy as a cold front worked its way across the bay and the last six miles I ran in the rain. I figure it was all part of the adventure, but I’m not sure I’d go looking to run a race in the rain/wind again. Haha.

The race itself was eh. I thought the course was boring. It started in the dark, the streets didn’t really have street lights or anything, so that was weird. It also went in a circle and we ended up back at the beginning and then took a turn. I didn’t like having to pass the finish line at half way and know that I still had another 6 1/2 miles to run.

Exciting things: There was a guy running the full marathon who dribbled a basketball the entire time. Then there was another guy JUGGLING as he ran the whole marathon. Insane. Speaking of insane, H and I were getting bored and so H decided to sing the entire 99 bottles of beer on the wall song as we ran. Thankfully? or maybe unfortunately? It only took her about a mile and half to sing the whole thing.

During the out and back part on Bayshore I saw our TNT coaches. Actually, they saw us and called out my name. The surprise of someone cheering for me from the sidelines definitely gave me a needed boost of energy, especially since I had no idea how I was going to survive. Also, some nice stranger made little packets of pretzels and gummy bears and offered them to the runners. As we passed by, she offered pretzels and H and I passed them up, but she said gummy bears a second later and H made a U-Turn to go get herself some gummy bears.

Oh and I ran next to the marathon winner for .01 seconds. I was on mile 9 and he was on mile 20. Haha.

I crossed the finish line in a vertical position and actually ran into college friends and who had ran the race/supported their spouses. (ooh, so weird to say that!) I’m not sure I’d want to do Gasparilla again, the t-shirt was great, the expo was great, the race itself… eh. We’ll see though.

I ran a recovery run on Monday, thinking that it would help stretch out my muscles. Not so much. It definitely made things hurt so much more. I’ve been on a ibuprofen schedule for a couple days now.

i feel myself becoming complacently monotonous in all that i do. i work, i run, i parent, i work, i run, i parent, i work, i run, i parent. and though i have no desire to change or eliminate any of those three primary facets of my life. and though i feel strong and confident in each. i need to establish a new goal to challenge my incessant need for self-improvement. and i need to do it soon!

my career is finally at a comfort zone. no stress. good people. decent salary (though i do work for a nonprofit so grand wealth will never be bestowed upon me). most i know would be very happy to be where i am. but me … i’m merely content. i miss deadlines. i miss the pressure of corporate. i miss multi-tasking for weeks on end to see a promotion launch … sometimes with great success and sometimes with less than stellar results. i miss the challenge. but this isn’t the time to be itching for a career change so bored or not, i know i’m best to stay put.

my daughter is amazing. i’m either incredibly lucky or i’ve done something very right as a parent. she likes school. loves people. respects boundaries. is well-rounded, grounded and secure with all that she does. i’m not naive enough to think this will last forever. raging teenage hormones are sure to lead to a few extra gray hairs and parental woes but for the time being i adore being a mother.

it’s the running that needs a new boost. i’m back to a pretty regular schedule now though admittedly somewhat light on the miles. i’ve got the gasparilla half in a couple weeks and i’m not training hard for it by any means. i would like to PR ~ i’m shooting for a 1:55:00 ~ but even with that goal in mind i’m not pushing through the limits of my schedule and making time for the run like i did for disney. i think i’m simply not impressed by the distance of a half anymore.

but that kind of laissez-faire attitude is not going to get me a PR and it’s certainly not going to get me moving towards something more. so help me figure it out. give me reason and incentive to push myself as i so love to do. offer to meet me for a certain race somewhere. maybe a girl’s weekend someplace completely random. is there a certain marathon that should be a must on my list of runs to do?

quick! pick a challenge. any challenge.

The Gasparilla Flotilla... (click on image for more photos)

Saturday, we boarded the Arcon to join in on the annual Gasparilla Invasion of Tampa.  This consists of a gaggle of ships, boats and other floating craft forming a flotilla around the Jose Gasparilla pirate ship as she travels across Hillsborough Bay and into the heart of downtown Tampa where the pirates take over the city for a day of celebration and festivities including the Gasparilla Parade.  I have posted a number of  photos and one video on my Flickr site and, for those interested in a little history of Gasparilla, a couple of additional links.  Click on the above image to access my Flickr Album:

THE LEGEND OF GASPARILLA:
MYTH AND HISTORY ON FLORIDA’S WEST COAST

SHORT VIDEO OF THE GASPARILLA PIRATE FEST

Here are some ADDITIONAL PHOTOS from the files of the Tampa Tribune.

ARRRRRRRRR!!!!!

So we start walking. And we hit our tent just moments later and WOW! I think we were all shocked. The water was right there, it was gated off so no crazy AT or Austin’s could get out and Chris walks up to the tent, and a cold beer was promptly served! SWEET! We were all amazed. A GORGEOUS day with a high of 72 and the sun shinning bright, 2 GREAT kids that were never a problem at all and had the best time together, and good friends. Yup, that is what the day was all about, hanging out We did have one more friend with us P, but he didn’t hang with us much….guess we weren’t cool enough yesterday BLAH! Just kidding P. We missed you B.

The two cutest kids at the parade

Ashton and Austin

Uncle Joey, this photo is for you

Since you won’t find a photo of my beloved husband on here, here is one of me and my Dad and Ashton.

The parade ended at 5:30pm. We walked to our van and drove away. Yes, one hour and 50mins later we arrived at home. We only live 15mins from the parade site. You’d think that Tampa had this parade down by now, it’s only been going on for over 100 years! GESH!

Thanks again to Chris, Ryan, Austin, P and Popi for joining us. It was GREAT having you all there to help take down those pirates! ARRRRR!!!

Posted on the St. Petersburg Times‘ Wingman blog as “Gasparilla port of call: Four Green Fields.”

Chances are, I’ll end up Four Green Fields Saturday. Just like I did last year during Gasparilla. I hate to play favorites … but I love FGF.

Here’s a piece I have running on the St. Petersburg Times‘ Wingman blog as “Shiver me liver: Best places for Gasparilla grog.”

I actually walked nearly the entire parade route while working on this piece. It was a beautiful day. I had fun. And got in some exercise. Well, until I reached Four Green Fields. Then it was time for a Guinness.

Updated Feb. 5

Same story ran in the St. Petersburg Times‘ Weekend section today on page 20w as “Swell places to swill” and on the newspaper’s homesite  as “Bars bracket Gasparilla route.”

after disney, my plan was to take a full solid week off running then slowly start back up. though i didn’t have any major injuries to nurse, i was certainly sore and mentally i was drained and ready for a break. i indulged in good wine. let a friend take me to five guys for the ultimate diet no-no. lazed in my comfy arm chair in the evening. and one night even ate ice cream for dinner. it was heavenly!

but the week came and went and i didn’t quite feel ready to get back out there. i found excuses in schedule restraints and phantom aches and pains. i claimed it better to be safe than sorry. the week turned into 8 days, then 9, then 10 and i really thought i was doing my body good. but then i realized i wasn’t sleeping. i was stressed. the reward of decadent food and drink was weighing me down ~ literally! and the free time meant to relax and enjoy left me with too much time to over analyze my life. day 11, day 12 … i called in to work. i was exhausted. physically and mentally. i was in total disarray.

day 13 i stepped back on the treadmill. not how i wanted to start back but the road wasn’t an option and i knew i needed to run. not just wanted to. not just should. i NEEDED to! that first night back, after battling insomnia for days, i slept ten and a half hours uninterrupted ~ longer than i’ve slept in years! and by the next day i felt more in control and capable to handle life again. it’s been a slow tentative few days. 3 miles saturday and 3 sunday. 4 mile-long hill repeats on monday and just over 4 miles with a few from the group last night. i’m a little slow. a little tight. but it feels so good to be running again.

but now i face a question ~ what’s next in this running saga of mine? i’d like to say there is no need to find the answer. that i can simply run for the sake of running but i know better. in my life i define goals and then i achieve them. period.

so what is next? the sarasota half on feb 15 is likely, the gasparilla half on march 1 is a definite. and i’m still hoping i can somehow pull off running the dances with dirt half on feb 7. three half marathons in the course of 4 weeks. a year ago that would have seemed an impossible feat. today it seems fun but nothing to be considered a next challenge. i toy with the thought of my next marathon. marine corp in october? maybe even something sooner. nashville’s county music marathon in april? or the slight temptation to upgrade to the gasparilla full. but i also look at other roads to potentially venture down. a triathlon? focus on speed in an attempt to qualify for boston? or maybe take it easy with just a simple annual goal of 1,000 miles in ‘09?

a co-worker ~ and fellow single mom ~ stopped me in the hallway a few days after disney to congratulate me. she felt inspired by my success. motivated to make some life style changes.  then she asked what i planned to do next. i told her i wasn’t sure and she claimed that given my audaciousness she knew i would succeed at whatever i decided. then with a slight chuckle she dared me to take on a real challenge this time ~ find a good man and settle down.

guess i better go buy a new pair of shoes. i’ve got some running to do.

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Although Gaspar had vowed to retire, he could not resist one last attempt to capture a merchant ship traveling towards New Orleans. As Gaspar and his crew approached the boat, they realized it was a United States Navy warship in disguise. Gaspar and his crew had been fooled. There was nothing they could do. There was a violent battle. Gaspar’s ship was set on fire. As the warship’s commander boarded Gaspar’s ship, Gaspar wrapped himself in the ship’s anchor chain and jumped overboard. His last words, “Gasparilla dies by his own hand, not the enemy’s”.

Jose Gaspar, he referred to himself as Gasparilla. Said to be the most prolific pirate of all times. He pirated for over 38 years. He captured over 400 ships. He was fearless and showed no mercy. He killed all people aboard the ships he captured. He terrorized the coast of Florida for decades. At age 65, he decided it was time to retire. However, retirement is not the reason his final attack was his last.

There is an awesome parade which takes place in Tampa, it is called The Gasparilla parade. It all started with pirates invading Tampa bay. Jose Gaspar. Ever since that time, they celebrate this day. There are local business men who dress up as pirates and they reenact the invasion. They end this with the parade. Lots of floats and safe gun fire. They throw coins out to the crowd. There are some beautiful horses and School bands that perform. This used to be in February. I think it is at the end of january now. This was a school holiday when i was a little girl. We did not always get to go see the parade. It was pretty crowded in that part of Tampa, where the parade ran. I do remembe one year almost getting stepped on by a Clydesdale horse. I was sitting down, with my legs crossed and just moved my foot at just the right time. It is a fun day for all.

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