tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88542218512338827842024-02-19T19:24:51.054-05:00Twice the love...half the sleep!Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11856498580073957231noreply@blogger.comBlogger1788125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8854221851233882784.post-24251503657117346582019-06-29T18:43:00.000-04:002019-06-29T18:43:37.652-04:00You Have to Look Fear in the Eye and WinkWhen you fall off the horse, you have to get back on. This is both literal and figurative in our lives.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLFgUvrRUhPaTK30WnvPdaBRk2hjlu49ejNVAxZOPi9e2pw9fQwXL1lt7R2bx7NVJ4YMwkRJ87JndXIINurkT5zDTrG-kyhSeqbNmWnG49CHd0kg9JQkP9umz66F8fMzVdqffncEo4Y5Q/s1600/IMG_7231.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLFgUvrRUhPaTK30WnvPdaBRk2hjlu49ejNVAxZOPi9e2pw9fQwXL1lt7R2bx7NVJ4YMwkRJ87JndXIINurkT5zDTrG-kyhSeqbNmWnG49CHd0kg9JQkP9umz66F8fMzVdqffncEo4Y5Q/s320/IMG_7231.PNG" width="180" /></a>5 months ago I fell off my bike and broke my femur. 2 months ago my daughter was thrown from her horse. See, literal and figurative.<br />
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My fall has been well documented, so we don't need to revisit that at all. My daughter, on the other hand, we haven't really talked about her fall. It was a normal lesson, she was working on her canter. She was on the lead to have to control and her horse was just not having it.<br />
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To say it happened in the blink of an eye is an understatement. She tumbled over, my son yelled, her trainer yelled and my husband and I stood in stunned silence.<br />
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Now here is where it's hard. As a mom, I knew I couldn't react. I knew she would look to me and my reaction. If I panicked, or screamed, or ran out there, she would never get on the horse again. So I waited. I let her trainer handle everything for the first few minutes (in reality it was probably seconds) and then walked into the arena. She was crying and rightfully so. She sobbed, "I want to go home." I didn't blame her, but she had to get on the literal horse.<br />
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I made her ride the arena two more times on a different horse. She just walked, but she got on and she did well. She calmed down and found her rhythm. She wanted to quit the next week and I said no, you have to get back on. She did. She was hesitant, but she did it, and she's done it almost every weekend since.<br />
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How we have handled her fall and the lessons since has also been a lesson in life. Everything will never go your way, you will always get thrown from a figurative horse either professionally or personally and if you constantly quit, what kind of life is that? We make no bones about the fact that we are raising two tough kids, the world is not a kind place and we want them ready to face it every day and come out the best they can be.<br />
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Last night she sat down with me and said she was done and didn't want to ride anymore. I told her no. I feel like I'm a ruthless mom with this, but the reality is, she will not be a quitter. She loves those horses too much to quit, and she is a fighter, she always has been. I told her she had to finish the lessons we have paid for and she had to apply herself, she couldn't just coast through the lessons. Then we talked about fear. This is when I had to get back on my figurative horse.<br />
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I confessed I was scared to get back on my bike. I broke a bone and was out for 5 months, there is no part of me that is just itching to jump back on, but I knew I had to, I was just scared. We talked about it for a few minutes and I told her I was going to try this weekend to get back on the bike, to conquer my fear.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibSDUT8wCYD0LLywhPfMncoNfkD1EjKQQKyU37ahx44p4AHdw1VenBZOuSnSx90kvSOLUxLSX7uxvR0iq3mjM2X_DW3n1TiGMsCEqyUTT0D7-PNfoScxucePBJ445wbvOYWGlEmO2LgwY/s1600/IMG_3848.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1203" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibSDUT8wCYD0LLywhPfMncoNfkD1EjKQQKyU37ahx44p4AHdw1VenBZOuSnSx90kvSOLUxLSX7uxvR0iq3mjM2X_DW3n1TiGMsCEqyUTT0D7-PNfoScxucePBJ445wbvOYWGlEmO2LgwY/s320/IMG_3848.JPG" width="240" /></a> This morning after my walk I texted my husband and said we have to ride before lessons. He adjusted my seat so I wasn't as high as before, this way I could comfortably put my feet down when I get nervous.<br />
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I put my helmet on and was scared. I got to the top of the driveway, right where I fell and said I couldn't do it. I wanted to quit in that second. I stood paralyzed with fear with one foot on the ground and one foot on the pedal.<br />
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I couldn't do it.<br />
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But didn't I just tell my daughter she had to do it? That she had to face her fear and not live with regret? How could I walk back in that house after quitting? What message would that send to her?<br />
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I would be a total fraud.<br />
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I pushed off and wobbled. I cried quietly for the first quarter mile, I was that scared. Scared I would topple over, scared I would break my leg again, scared it would be worse.<br />
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Then before I knew it we were back at the house and short of a mile, so I said let's go again. We made it around again and I said I wanted 2 miles, so we took another side street. I was more comfortable the second go around, I pedaled faster, coasted smoother and took a hill like a damn boss.<br />
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I looked fear in the face and winked, albeit with tears in my eyes.<br />
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When I walked in the door she asked how it was and I smiled and said great. In reality, I was underwhelmed. I don't know what I expected. I was upset by how upset I was out there (I'm a perfectionist, I feel like that explains everything).<br />
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We headed to lessons shortly after and she had her best lesson since the fall. She even rode bareback for two rounds which is something she has not had the confidence to do since she fell. I was so proud of her at that moment. So proud that she conquered that fear, so proud that she faced it like a boss.<br />
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We both got back on our horse today. We both have shed tears, had second thoughts, but both kicked fear's ass.<br />
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Like mother, like daughter....<br />
<br />Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11856498580073957231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8854221851233882784.post-39716819004180101592019-06-06T20:07:00.000-04:002019-06-06T20:07:18.649-04:00When the Mirror Doesn't Match Your Mind<div style="text-align: center;">
Body image...yeah I'm going there. </div>
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I happened upon this quote today and it has just been rolling around in my head all day.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5lzwoCgaeMRAsrDZZ6HVoLlECYv_Cbfas-NNce2KdAVTOmlMDsyTg0MmfjojNUpbwKFoyh3FjbO-zhYWbcE1TlLtA9zAK_KPbevfozTJICS0CgcAllNaz9mrOBjjnrK5jPYHGFbU9EAQ/s1600/IMG_8477+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="413" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5lzwoCgaeMRAsrDZZ6HVoLlECYv_Cbfas-NNce2KdAVTOmlMDsyTg0MmfjojNUpbwKFoyh3FjbO-zhYWbcE1TlLtA9zAK_KPbevfozTJICS0CgcAllNaz9mrOBjjnrK5jPYHGFbU9EAQ/s320/IMG_8477+2.JPG" width="176" /></a></div>
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You see I've been struggling lately, okay more than lately. Maybe since January when I collided with my driveway and went from running 4 times a week and lifting weights 2-3 times a week to absolutely nothing. </div>
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I've always been thin, literally my entire life. Okay, not my entire life, there was that whole stretch from birth to maybe preschool where I had more rolls than a bakery...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMjhXVNprOFlUze5j60ZW08QVJd17LsgQtR7Jt2_wHpDDoFlsPsRRPBJPXycc-AL9QEEQPJbKANGgykysjN_yH3yyLOqXs_bvGTtu6GCjAIGj2EH0F7-q3sWokKSuDBzYjsNNW8Hg82ZQ/s1600/IMG_8482.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMjhXVNprOFlUze5j60ZW08QVJd17LsgQtR7Jt2_wHpDDoFlsPsRRPBJPXycc-AL9QEEQPJbKANGgykysjN_yH3yyLOqXs_bvGTtu6GCjAIGj2EH0F7-q3sWokKSuDBzYjsNNW8Hg82ZQ/s320/IMG_8482.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Shout out to my Grandpa for forever memorializing said rolls with this photo. Also a shout out to my Grandma for having that wallpaper because it's majestic AF.</div>
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Junior high gave me that ever so sought after gangly nothing but limbs and nose look that was popular sometime between never and not ever.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgowQn-dOJKXq5KTX5giYE3A0QQOsgm2DeHj9pzd41y5iLN3qXS5TxWUxQYRSk1ZquAhjslbUglaappVSM9LZritwa3ilsljGimUNsmgKc-GXESzf0oICFGiTIsKx1bYDJk5Q3_zBhRM5M/s1600/IMG_8481.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgowQn-dOJKXq5KTX5giYE3A0QQOsgm2DeHj9pzd41y5iLN3qXS5TxWUxQYRSk1ZquAhjslbUglaappVSM9LZritwa3ilsljGimUNsmgKc-GXESzf0oICFGiTIsKx1bYDJk5Q3_zBhRM5M/s320/IMG_8481.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Those shorts...wtf...</div>
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Everything from this picture on was a solid awkward stage and no, I shall not be sharing any more photos. Let's just say my haircuts did me no favors.</div>
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By senior year of high school, I would say I finally came into my own. And by senior year, I mean literally mean moments before I walked across the stage to get my diploma. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr6C5SlL0QXLyVs_bu5K0syH8bowXe_y42yKkNgRk8CcNDNeTphlF3FqMnLyJxhbEji0841ug3Nk9nu-NoiUxpCKShVz60PSJzbNzVUJhghvTuz9eBTIjE19cDkpZR10UOg_-P3TGQJOI/s1600/IMG_8484+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="484" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr6C5SlL0QXLyVs_bu5K0syH8bowXe_y42yKkNgRk8CcNDNeTphlF3FqMnLyJxhbEji0841ug3Nk9nu-NoiUxpCKShVz60PSJzbNzVUJhghvTuz9eBTIjE19cDkpZR10UOg_-P3TGQJOI/s320/IMG_8484+2.jpg" width="96" /></a></div>
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I choose not to discuss the poster I am holding up in this photo, except I will say it was a gag gift and it lived in my dorm freshman year. </div>
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But college, that is where I finally found myself as far as my image. It's also where I learned some of the nasty habits that would plague me for years.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz1zBNajT_4g1DLM1SR502rlYDSzySR2FO5oyMAZur9iqx2MWymRisB5HFCh8DRbiqqlTDwaSKmctH0jKL-hHeD0E-d9PWaKEq3YEncN8RsHNmNoqq8ora1PXk8EhRweAqzOkRt-ZqtFM/s1600/IMG_8483.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz1zBNajT_4g1DLM1SR502rlYDSzySR2FO5oyMAZur9iqx2MWymRisB5HFCh8DRbiqqlTDwaSKmctH0jKL-hHeD0E-d9PWaKEq3YEncN8RsHNmNoqq8ora1PXk8EhRweAqzOkRt-ZqtFM/s320/IMG_8483.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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I mean, I was totes adorbs, right? I'm also wishing I kept that tank top. </div>
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But the reality is that girl was not happy. Not just with my body image, but with the mental image of myself as well. When that picture was taken I was in the most toxic relationship that only amplified everything. I had to look a certain way, act a certain way. I had to be a trophy. </div>
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I did whatever I had to do to be that trophy. I distinctly remember not eating a lot, if anything. I smoked like a chimney to curb my appetite and basically existed on Red Bull to stay awake. </div>
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It wasn't healthy. The fact that nothing serious happened to me shocks me to this day. And what's even scarier, is that nobody knew. </div>
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But it didn't stop. When I was getting married I kicked it into high gear and kept it that way until after we were married. And I would like to point out my husband is the polar opposite of the toxic person and literally could care less if I was a size 4 or 14. But for me, in my own mind, old habits die hard. Being thin was always synonymous with being pretty in my mind.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Af8Y_Nxw7NY_KpfOOLuLuxlk5AqAyw7duJ8xgM3GWXylVXLDdgHrE3E6B-XYx5Ve_AdRgstyKAK3N86s8bD_Z352ej2e3R-8YtbEfEN2fCYsNgp80d0icXTR-4NS4M9EpSYeN73zwXU/s1600/1928828_516374554320_9581_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="453" data-original-width="604" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Af8Y_Nxw7NY_KpfOOLuLuxlk5AqAyw7duJ8xgM3GWXylVXLDdgHrE3E6B-XYx5Ve_AdRgstyKAK3N86s8bD_Z352ej2e3R-8YtbEfEN2fCYsNgp80d0icXTR-4NS4M9EpSYeN73zwXU/s320/1928828_516374554320_9581_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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This was the thinnest I had been in years. I distinctly remember my Dad telling me I was too thin that night. I didn't believe him, I thought he was being ridiculous. </div>
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I was in the gym constantly, food was the enemy, everything had restrictions. Eat too much? Better work it off. That amazing Red Bull habit picked back up during this time as well. The less I ate, the more Red Bull I consumed. It was the only way to stay awake. Again, how did I not have anything serious happen to me?</div>
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This was my mind. This is was the voice constantly in my head. </div>
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Then I got pregnant with twins.</div>
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Good God.</div>
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I like to say I gained 70lbs when I was pregnant, but let's be real, 70 means 80ish. I also gained the majority in my last trimester, but I wouldn't change it. I had big, healthy, strong babies. My goal was to leave the hospital with them and I did just that. </div>
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But after...</div>
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Oh Lord...</div>
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I hated myself. I hated what I looked like, I hated everything about it. My stomach was literally destroyed. I had stretch marks everywhere. I fell into a depression. </div>
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God love Scott, he looked into surgeries thinking it would make me feel better, but I knew in my heart it wouldn't. It can't change what your mind sees when it looks in the mirror. </div>
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So then my obsessive self took to walking with my friends. We would push our kids around different neighborhoods and walk miles a day. The weight came off, but I still hated myself. </div>
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If we are being honest it took almost all 11 years since they were born to finally embrace this body of mine. I can say I finally have a healthy relationship with food. I completely credit running with this shift. I began to look at everything as fuel, not a reward, not a punishment. Fuel. Working out became my time. Time to clear my mind and make myself stronger, not skinnier. </div>
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Last month I was bathing suit (it still makes me groan) shopping and my friend Sarah finally said "buy the damn bikini" and my friend Leona added, "wear the damn bikini."</div>
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I did it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj__9QkH-EpQ53nyaavfmXJFG2xxi2boTDCAr4ttFHnGoINIP7YlEQIcyNS8u7fq0juCN3mQda6oCFqtiisuEG7Zwb7kTcjzjH1k3109H6JfFLkTzgY6viHd5yAD2VsT66nhiwjwwSWllQ/s1600/59698885_10106593640453700_4139889624807899136_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj__9QkH-EpQ53nyaavfmXJFG2xxi2boTDCAr4ttFHnGoINIP7YlEQIcyNS8u7fq0juCN3mQda6oCFqtiisuEG7Zwb7kTcjzjH1k3109H6JfFLkTzgY6viHd5yAD2VsT66nhiwjwwSWllQ/s320/59698885_10106593640453700_4139889624807899136_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Are the stretch marks still there? Totally. Do I have that mom pooch because my abs are totally split from carrying the weight of two babies at one time? Oh for sure. </div>
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But you know what, I don't care anymore. At this point, my goal is to stay fit. My goal is to continue to have this body do totally incredible things like run marathons and lift heavier than the guy on the machine next to me, all with a smile on my face. </div>
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Is it still a daily struggle? It can be. Did I feel myself edge towards old habits when I was immobile from my injury? 100% But I caught myself. I let myself get doughy knowing I could bounce back. </div>
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Real talk...am I 100% confident in my skin? No, but I'd say I'm a solid 75% which is so much better than I ever was. </div>
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Would anyone ever know this was the case? Doubt it. I can promise you anyone that knows me today would be shocked by all of this, simply based on the fact that whenever you see me I'm probably shoveling food in my mouth. </div>
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At the end of the day, I'll take the girl in the beach chair with stretch marks over the girl who starved herself to wear a size 4. I'm pretty sure I could bench that girl anyway. </div>
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Stay strong everyone. </div>
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<br />Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11856498580073957231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8854221851233882784.post-19418970545488626452019-05-14T20:00:00.000-04:002019-05-14T20:00:07.893-04:00Stubborn LuckOver lunch today I had someone ask me how my recovery was going. People have been commenting on the fact that I'm in heels, or that I look good since the break, and that it's nice to see me without the walker. It's hard to believe that just a few months ago I was confined to my bed in a ridiculous amount of pain. With the exception of when I first wake up, my limp is almost nonexistent. With the exception of the one-inch scar on my thigh, you'd never know I have three freakishly large pins holding my femur together.<br />
<br />
"You made it look so easy, you handled it so well."<br />
<br />
Did I? I don't think I did. I think I threw a fit the first night I was home. I distinctly remember throwing a pillow while crying because I was in pain and couldn't sleep. I remember taking my first shower, sitting on a shower seat with my leg hanging out of the shower because it was too painful to get all the way in and just sobbing. And when I say sobbing, I mean the all the way from your gut ugly sob, the kind where you can't breathe, but you don't make a sound.<br />
<br />
Those first two weeks I cried...a lot. Those first two weeks I swore...a lot. Those first two weeks I lost hope...a lot.<br />
<br />
I threw countless pity parties for myself. Sometimes people would indulge me, more often than not they wouldn't. I appreciate the times they wouldn't.<br />
<br />
Sure, it's fine to wallow in self-pity on occasion, because let's face it, the situation sucked...like really sucked. I went from running four days a week and hitting the gym at least two to three times a week to nothing. Zip, zero, zilch, nada, nyet, etc. I watched my leg muscles atrophy and it killed me. I worked for that calf, I worked for that quad and hammy. I put miles on those legs, they carried me through some of my toughest runs and helped me through some crazy shit, and they were disappearing before my eyes.<br />
<br />
It was devastating.<br />
<br />
I hated being helpless. I hated having people open doors, carry things for me, help me to my car. It drove me insane. Now, I would like to point out in a normal situation, I don't mind these things, but when I had a walker and physically could not do it myself, it enraged me. Thank you to those that understood that and let me be stubborn, but finally stepped in when they knew I needed it and whispered words of encouragement so I wouldn't be defeated.<br />
<br />
That helplessness humbled me though. The struggle of finding convenient parking (yes, I refused to get a temporary handicap parking tag...stubborn, remember?), the amount of time it took to get somewhere, the fact that I was exhausted from walking into a building, it humbled me. People do this on a daily basis and are not like me, they won't be getting better. I am so incredibly lucky.<br />
<br />
It's cheesy to say that, but I am.<br />
<br />
My recovery for all intents and purposes has been perfect. Everything is healing the right way to the point that I tend to forget I even broke it...well until I overdo it at the gym.<br />
<br />
I'll repeat it, I am so incredibly lucky.<br />
<br />
And maybe I did make it look easy, but I can promise you, it hasn't been easy, and it's not over yet. I still have a little more than a month before I can run and I just started reincorporating weights into my workout (cautiously of course). I had to laugh the other night because when I was leaving the gym I ran into my chiropractor. We were chatting on our way to our cars and he asked how I was doing. While catching up I mentioned that my surgeon humors me, he gets that I'm stubborn and that I want to push through and get to the finish line. My chiropractor laughed, tilted his head and said, "Yeah, I get that, in fact, I'm pretty sure I humored you, too."<br />
<br />
I can see the finish line approaching and I know it's not the full finish. I know I'll have to work back to where I was and I know I'll still have to go at a turtles pace. But I can see it and I'm ready.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11856498580073957231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8854221851233882784.post-26457197609525085732019-03-24T13:31:00.002-04:002019-03-24T13:31:46.098-04:00UnbrokenIt's been a few weeks since I finally received the all clear (well, majority clear) from my surgeon. I was cleared to ditch the walker, which I may or may not have already done a few days earlier, and begin working out, albeit, modified workouts.<br />
<br />
It's been amazing.<br />
<br />
It's been terrifying.<br />
<br />
Did I mention it's been amazing?<br />
<br />
I started cycling again on a stationary bike and finally hit the treadmill and elliptical this weekend. It has been simply fantastic to workout again. It's also slightly overwhelming the amount of support I have received. It seems like every time I have stepped foot in the gym I get the smile and "it's great to have you back" from trainers, fellow gym goers, receptionists, etc. It's overwhelming to think people you just happen to see would even notice your absence.<br />
<br />
The other thing that has been overwhelming is my reaction to the phrase "you're not broken anymore." It's silly really, but was I broken to begin with? Yes, I did break my femur, and thanks to my bill from the surgeon it shall forevermore be referred to as the pinning of the femur, but that was it. But upon reflection when hearing the phrase multiple times, yes, in fact, I was broken. I'm not going to lie, this broke me several times, not just my leg, but my spirit. I had so many pity parties, and so many times I felt like this was the absolute worst thing in the world, but that first time I hopped back on the bike, it went away. I realized at that moment just how lucky I was to bounce back in 6 weeks. I even gave it an extra week for good measure.<br />
<br />
I still have a slight limp, but most people don't notice it. I'm not in heels yet, but that will come with time. Honestly, if you didn't know, you probably never would.<br />
<br />
So yes, I was broken, and now I'm pinned together. What a ridiculously amazing metaphor for life, right?<br />
<br />
Now let's back to it, shall we?Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11856498580073957231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8854221851233882784.post-45954780871443680672019-03-03T11:58:00.003-05:002019-03-03T11:58:44.416-05:00Senses that Last a LifetimeThe senses are a funny thing, aren't they? It's amazing how you can react to a certain smell, a sound, a picture, you get the idea. I've been overwhelmed lately because it's a crazy week that I'm walking, or more appropriately hopping, into. I started thinking about the sounds I remembered from this week, and the smells and it got me thinking about all the things I remember throughout my life.<br />
<br />
Like the smell of Old Spice...my grandfather had a bottle in his bathroom and always smelled of it. It always reminds me of him, even to this day.<br />
<br />
The smell of my grandmother's perfume. I don't know what it was, but if someone near me has it on I instantly stop and look.<br />
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The sound of people's laughter. My aunt had the best laugh. Her laugh could make you laugh even harder than you already were.<br />
<br />
The sound of my son crying when we gave him quite possibly the most devastating news a 9-year-old boy could hear. That's a sound I would give anything to never hear again.<br />
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The clicking sound my daughter made when she had her seizure.<br />
<br />
The sight of asphalt in my periphery when I flipped the car I was driving, followed closely by the sound of glass shattering.<br />
<br />
My kids first cry when they were born. I remember holding my breath until I heard each cry.<br />
<br />
The first time I saw my Dad cry.<br />
<br />
The first time I saw Scott cry.<br />
<br />
The smells that pour through the house when I make my mom's dressing.<br />
<br />
The scent of my Mom's perfume.<br />
<br />
The last time I saw someone's smile, the laugh that went with it, and the feeling of hitting their helmet before they ran back onto the field for the last time.<br />
<br />
The senses are amazing and this week, I'm going to cling to all the memories that I can.Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11856498580073957231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8854221851233882784.post-4620438724612575742019-02-23T17:55:00.000-05:002019-02-23T17:55:02.582-05:00Pity Party of One, Your Table is Now Available<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This entire process has been a series of pity parties for me, but the one I have been dealing with this week takes the cake. This weekend is Princess Half Marathon weekend. This weekend would have been my ninth consecutive Princess Half and my sixth Glass Slipper Challenge. It sucks beyond belief, especially knowing that I will lose my perfect status for Glass Slipper.<br />
<br />
Aside from the race, it's also a girls weekend for me, my sister (who is celebrating a birthday today!) and niece. We run all the races, eat all the food, and park hop til our heart's content. Well, I am still hopping, just not between parks.<br />
<br />
I know the feeling will pass, I know at the end of the day it is what it is, but it still sucks, plain and simple. I know that I am extremely lucky to be healing as quickly as I am and to be surrounded by so many people that are helping with the healing process. Truly, I am (and I sparely use this phrase) blessed.<br />
<br />
So thank you to everyone that checked in on me this week because of the race. Thank you to my niece for understanding when I asked for no more updates from the expo. And thank you to anyone who has participated in my pity party this week, I promise I'll put on my big girl pants next week.<br />
<br />Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11856498580073957231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8854221851233882784.post-51906065032786346882019-02-16T13:34:00.002-05:002019-02-16T13:34:54.466-05:00What Did You Expect?I survived an entire week of work in the office. As silly as it sounds it was huge for me. Last week I made it two days and basically needed the entire weekend to recuperate. I was smarter this week and opted out of a few events and stayed in the office, which I think in the long run helped.<br />
<br />
I will say though, the funniest thing out of all of this are some of the comments I have received. I'm not totally sure what people thought I would look like when they saw me. Maybe something like this:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjahqdevGoFgBL9h_AxH1QRqVc7iCMuuruQADVMrYIXB3LmlROWVUffrH9iHhFVjUbogxMNTaXNDkid5RjLnpKSTF4R1AGriLk3KIQ8q5Da1hT8BErutONgbjpoy1cwBW6-DhBib1eGgt0/s1600/download.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjahqdevGoFgBL9h_AxH1QRqVc7iCMuuruQADVMrYIXB3LmlROWVUffrH9iHhFVjUbogxMNTaXNDkid5RjLnpKSTF4R1AGriLk3KIQ8q5Da1hT8BErutONgbjpoy1cwBW6-DhBib1eGgt0/s1600/download.jpeg" /></a></div>
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I mean, that's the only logical explanation because almost everyone that I saw throughout the week either said, "Wow, look at you, you look amazing!" or "Wow, you're standing!"<br />
<br />
Yeah, I look totally normal, and if you didn't see me walk with the walker, you'd have absolutely no idea. It's funny, but it's also one of those weird things I'm struggling with when it comes to this injury.<br />
<br />
I only have 2 weeks and 5 days with the walker and then I can safely return to the background of everyday life that I relish.Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11856498580073957231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8854221851233882784.post-13298675713441384812019-02-09T21:03:00.000-05:002019-02-09T21:03:14.837-05:00From Zero to MarathonI went back to work on Wednesday. I had told my boss come hell or high water I would be at my desk that morning. I honestly cannot tell you just how amazing it was to be back at my desk. It was the normalcy I craved. Now, don't get me wrong, it didn't come without some babying, and constant checks to see how I was. I have a feeling that will continue until I ditch the walker.<br />
<br />
I worked at the office Wednesday and Thursday, full days. Friday morning though, I woke up, started to get ready for work and Scott finally looked me in my clearly exhausted eyes and said, "just work from home today." He was so right. My friend Leona compared it to marathon training and how after a few hard runs you need to either dial back your miles or rest. So, reluctantly, I did just that.<br />
<br />
I've mentioned it before, but the mental games that come with this injury are by far the hardest. I look fine by all accounts, and if you saw me at my desk (and didn't see the walker), you would never know I'm two weeks post-op. And the reality is I don't know if anyone really knows how much it takes a toll on me.<br />
<br />
Something I have mastered over the years is the stoic face while in the midst of a crisis. Maybe it's the years of PR training, maybe it's my Eastern European heritage, who knows. The point is, in a crisis, I will never show my cards. You will never see me cry (unless you are deep in the inner circle), you may see a slight fluster, but that's it. When my son took a ball to the ribs at practice and dropped, I portrayed the calm parent, but on the inside, I was screaming. When my daughter went through a fence on her horse and flung to the ground, I didn't scream, I didn't yell, I was calm on the outside. In the midst of all of this, I've shown a calm face, a smile, an "I'm totally okay" but inside I'm screaming, I'm wailing, I'm defeated.<br />
<br />
Staying home on Friday was a giant pity party. I was upset with myself. Upset that I couldn't make it another day in the office. That I was weak. I cannot tell you how many times I was reminded that I'm still healing, that I'm actually probably going too fast. I was reminded of all that I've accomplished in the two weeks, and yet, it's not good enough for me.<br />
<br />
I know this is going to be a long process. I know this is going to be a challenge both physically and mentally. I'm thankful for my friends and family who talk me through my pity parties. The amount of support I have is ridiculous honestly. It's so much more than any one person normally has, and I am so grateful for it.<br />
<br />
Each day brings a new victory and I'm hoping to accomplish more this week than last week. And by accomplishing more, I mean actually work and go places, not accomplish watching more documentaries on Netflix.<br />
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Only 3 more weeks with the walker. Okay, 3 weeks, 4 days, and 16 hours from the moment I write this. But who's counting? Me...that's who.<br />
<br />
<br />Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11856498580073957231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8854221851233882784.post-24202539404255414122019-02-05T17:14:00.000-05:002019-02-05T17:14:22.426-05:00With Patience Comes Healing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm officially two weeks post op today. It's been an extremely long two weeks. I have been tested physically but mainly mentally/emotionally.<br />
<br />
The first week literally beat me up. I cried, I screamed, I threw pillows and I threw several pity parties for myself. It sucked. It sucked so much.<br />
<br />
Week two just messed with me. I was physically feeling better. I was splitting time between the upstairs and downstairs. I was going out of the house. Everything was getting easier. But I still couldn't do everything I wanted to do, and really I still can't.<br />
<br />
The surgeon was great today. I think he enjoys the fact that I am significantly younger than most patients for this surgery, so I'm an exception to his rules. He cleared me to drive, he cleared me for work, and he cleared me to start putting 20lbs of weight on my leg. I don't really know what that would be, so to be safe I just won't do more than just tap my foot on the ground.<br />
<br />
I am incredibly thankful for everyone that has either come over to hang, texted me ridiculous things to make me laugh, flown down from Chicago (what up Tay Tay) and most importantly fed my family. Honestly, I don't know what we would have done without all those meals!<br />
<br />
I'm pretty excited to head back into the office tomorrow, I even get to drive myself (shout out to the Doc for getting that approved!). Now let's hope these next four weeks fly by!Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11856498580073957231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8854221851233882784.post-91727547368170161622019-01-30T17:27:00.002-05:002019-01-30T17:27:57.778-05:00But the Reality is...That this sucks. This whole experience has been on the most mentally and emotionally draining experiences of my life. I have cried more over the dumbest (well, in my mind) things and have had full on breakdowns.<br />
<br />
Today I went to my GP so I could get a referral for my follow-up with the surgeon (yeah, I don't get it either). While I was there the nurse asked if I had been feeling depressed and I laughed and said well I have been in my bed for a week so...<br />
<br />
But the reality is I have been, how could you not be? The highlight of my day yesterday was that I can downstairs and got to sit on a barstool. I can't sleep because I'm on my back, which I'm sick of being on my back.<br />
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I can't do anything alone. I have to have someone on hand for everything. I'm an insanely independent person so the fact that I need Scott to get me in and out of the shower, car, you name it, makes me insane.<br />
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I also know people are walking on eggshells to a point to not upset me or give me a case of FOMO (that's fear of missing out, Mom), but the reality is, it sucks. I know everyone else is living their best life, you don't have to hide it. Scott felt guilty for running the other day and I laughed. Why? It sucks, but it is what it is.<br />
<br />
I know this is going to be a long process and it's only starting (151 days until July 1st, thank you, Shelly!). Each day will have its own unique struggle, but it will also have its own unique little victory. Today's victory? I made it downstairs, in the car, and into the doctor's office with no pain.<br />
<br />
Only 151 more days to go...Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11856498580073957231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8854221851233882784.post-62112441878533446572019-01-29T21:50:00.000-05:002019-01-29T21:54:16.470-05:00Best Laid PlansMy plan for 2019 was big. Well, not huge, but my plan was to get as close as possible to a 2:15 half, to run races I hadn't done before, to start cycling, and maybe do some duathlons. But as we know, the best-laid plans go awry.<br />
<br />
Let me set the scene for you...I found a bike. Okay, I didn't find the bike, my husband's friend found a bike. I fell in love with the bike. It was white with light pink accents. It was beautiful. I went away to Jekyll Island with some of my running friends for a 10k and he was set to get the bike. The seller bailed.<br />
<br />
No bike.<br />
<br />
Then my husband found a red bike for the same price. It was pretty, it was red, it was sassy. It was mine. I got the photo of the bike on the back of my husband's car and I could barely contain my excitement.<br />
<br />
I have a bike!<br />
<br />
I ordered a helmet, bike shorts, a jersey, gloves, and finally went to get shoes. Now, let me share something about myself. I'm stubborn. You know the phrase stubborn as a mule? That's cute. I'm worse.<br />
<br />
I went to a local bike store to get fitted for shoes. I decided I would go straight for clip-in shoes.<br />
<br />
Clip-in. Shoes.<br />
<br />
Scott tried to talk me out of them, he really did, but realized it was an effort in futility. We got home, I snagged some lunch, put on my adorable running tights and cycling shorts, helmet, and snazzy shoes. Scott had me practice a few times in the garage while he was holding the bike, I had him adjust the tension on the clips so it was easier to clip in and out. I walked my bike to the top of the driveway, hopped on, clipped in and...<br />
<br />
Fell.<br />
<br />
I hopped back up. I was totally fine. I got back on, clipped one foot in, threw my other foot up and it wouldn't clip and I wobbled and down I went...hard. Really hard. Like I screamed hard.<br />
<br />
I curled up in a ball, I wailed, struggled to get up. Scott got me back into the garage and asked if I was okay. I was in denial. Just get ice, I'm fine. He humored me for thirty minutes and made me get in the car.<br />
<br />
Go big or go to the ER, right?<br />
<br />
We got to the ER and my leg muscle was spasming. I went for an x-ray and did everything to not flip off the x-ray tech when she asked me to roll on my hip. Oh, the one that is radiating with pain? This one? Throw all my body weight on this? Kiss my ass.<br />
<br />
Then we waited. I had an 800 of Motrin and that totally took the pain away. Omg I almost couldn't type that because I was laughing so hard. Anyway, we waited and I heard the page from radiology for my doctor. I could see him from my bed and I saw his head tilt when he looked at his computer. Shit. Then I saw him walk to the printer. Well shit. Then he walked towards my room. I looked at Scott and said, "I broke something."<br />
<br />
I was right.<br />
<br />
I broke my femur right at the socket. I was lucky because I was pretty compressed so it never displaced. But nonetheless, I broke my femur.<br />
<br />
Everything after that was rapid fire. I heard surgery, maybe tonight, don't drink any water, you're getting admitted. I just stared and tried to wrap my head around the fact that I now would not be able to run the half marathon I was signed up for on Sunday.<br />
<br />
I was admitted shortly after and spent the night waiting. The next morning I met the surgeon. I would be getting 3 pins placed in my femur.<br />
<br />
I'm friggin' bionic.<br />
<br />
Or something like that.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I had surgery and spent another day in the hospital. Huge shout out to my friends for coming and keeping me company (and for the snacks!).<br />
<br />
I've been home since Wednesday and it's been an adventure. I'm stuck in my bed until my follow-up and I have the sweetest walker this side of the nursing home. I already know that I'm probably not running until July at the earliest and it's killing me. Now I just wait and see what the plan is for rehab and moving forward.<br />
<br />
I really do want to say thank you to everyone that has checked on me, visited, brought my family dinner, sent flowers, sent inappropriate memes, you name it. Thank you to my sister for coming down to help out, even though I think the main reason you came down was to skip the sub-arctic temps in Chicago.<br />
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But I couldn't do it without Scott. Thank you for letting me freak out, throw a pillow, cry, sob, wail, cuss, and have the biggest pity party. Thank you for being the best nurse I could have!<br />
<br />
Now let the countdown to July begin....Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11856498580073957231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8854221851233882784.post-26947490232313012472019-01-01T17:52:00.000-05:002019-01-01T17:52:42.937-05:002018 Recap and Plans for 2019<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggyLhiMUrhdSPJzz0tjXTzWvo4dBayCQ4HZghBqO5Lsh1vYpAnTNe-rdUKFtRcIg42DFG0AAcxbjbT30jPIrUTLrl8Iae_XqR5nYA6HUCLSLEPZUxCuvlmth-DcyEANORg5_BZX7W03KA/s1600/26229621_10105350678060300_1767136574936746423_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="638" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggyLhiMUrhdSPJzz0tjXTzWvo4dBayCQ4HZghBqO5Lsh1vYpAnTNe-rdUKFtRcIg42DFG0AAcxbjbT30jPIrUTLrl8Iae_XqR5nYA6HUCLSLEPZUxCuvlmth-DcyEANORg5_BZX7W03KA/s200/26229621_10105350678060300_1767136574936746423_n.jpg" width="132" /></a>Part of me is surprised that it is 2019, and then the other part of me is like OMG finally! 2018 was kind of a really long year, is it just me?<br />
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2018 had its share of challenges for me, but it also had a ton of milestones. I completed my first (and only?) Goofy Challenge. Yes, that's 39.3 miles in two days...back to back...because I'm clearly Goofy. It was some of the coldest conditions I've run in for the half and then for the full, we had a 20-degree temperature swing from race start to finish. It was disgusting! But you know what? I did it, and I bet my previous marathon time. And it did it all with my squad beside me.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGnnT5b_TKbhLjrUauArSpw0q-u6L1gUqlCg7lPV8z6IhMVrmMlD4oBd-44f6aTtwPMOL_K19vHv9fjSPoOLm3PLsFrGlt9lrCb4V79sQN9_rmRNpB_93xV2LYOkARytE3rBQSFUvkUCc/s1600/28377871_10105486478619890_8927117472192100231_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="638" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGnnT5b_TKbhLjrUauArSpw0q-u6L1gUqlCg7lPV8z6IhMVrmMlD4oBd-44f6aTtwPMOL_K19vHv9fjSPoOLm3PLsFrGlt9lrCb4V79sQN9_rmRNpB_93xV2LYOkARytE3rBQSFUvkUCc/s200/28377871_10105486478619890_8927117472192100231_n.jpg" width="132" /></a>I also crushed the Princess Half Marathon. I have been chasing a finishing time of 2:30 for a long time and this year I wanted it more than I've ever wanted anything in my life. I ran with two members of my squad and they got me to mile 7.5 ish before telling me to run and if they caught me they'd kick my ass. It was when I hit the fountain in EPCOT after the turnaround that I knew I could do it. It was within my reach. I dug as deep as I could and when I passed the 2:30 pacer that I had lost around mile 5 I started to tear up. I did it. I did it with seconds to spare, but dammit I did it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ6LE9_XHR5QwFxO1XzZaQhjJGxz_si9e3E2vaiUmyfRBp946kagLsGb4Hjo9iLN2cZTNcQnWhopWCpqWgtWuPrhh_tAwNNnUbgV1xxRBV45EvB733Zg5Xv0TPEtu12SocXJI_aL26HNU/s1600/44023328_10106089261238690_1858637154494709760_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ6LE9_XHR5QwFxO1XzZaQhjJGxz_si9e3E2vaiUmyfRBp946kagLsGb4Hjo9iLN2cZTNcQnWhopWCpqWgtWuPrhh_tAwNNnUbgV1xxRBV45EvB733Zg5Xv0TPEtu12SocXJI_aL26HNU/s200/44023328_10106089261238690_1858637154494709760_n.jpg" width="200" /></a>Oh, and I did this little thing called the Chicago Marathon. My niece and I signed up through ALZ Stars and planned to run together. Somehow I got a 43 minute and change PR. While that was awesome, nothing, and I mean nothing, beats running those 26.2 miles with my niece. To see how far she has come in her running and to <br />
have her right there with me was the best thing I could have ever asked for.<br />
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I do not have any big races planned for 2019. Right now my focus is to run races I've never done before. I want to explore. I want to work on speed. I want to work on stamina. Basically, I want to be the best version of me, both running and personally, that I can be. I cannot wait to see what 2019 brings me. Thank you 2018 for serving me a giant slice of humble pie, now watch in 2019.Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11856498580073957231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8854221851233882784.post-5432001467597072042018-12-31T08:43:00.001-05:002018-12-31T08:43:57.884-05:00Parenting Corner: Leading By Example <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The past few years I have been lucky enough to work somewhere that allows me to have the time between Christmas and New Years off to spend with my kiddos. Not only does it make it easy as far as childcare is concerned it also gives me and the kids a chance to have some time together, just the three of us. I always try to find things for us to do that are new and exciting. This year I added a volunteer aspect to our adventure. We would spend two days with the kids at the Central Florida Dreamplex Dream Academy Camp. <div>
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The Central Florida Dreamplex is an amazing organization. They give children and adults with physical and developmental disabilities the opportunity to grow by meeting recreational, fitness, and social needs. I became aware of the organization a little more than two years ago through a friend that works there. I hold this organization very near and dear to my heart and if my schedule allows I jump at the chance to help out. I was thrilled the kids would be able to help this year with me. </div>
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Now I also had my concerns going into two days at the camp. And let's be serious, what was I thinking signing up for two days not knowing how the kids would handle one!? I had a feeling my dude would be fine, but my little miss? She was another story. I knew they were both overwhelmed when we arrived. It is a lot to take in when you do not know what to expect. I was so pleased that they both settled in and by the end of our shift they were begging to come back the next day. </div>
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I cannot even fully express the feeling I had when I looked over and saw a child sitting in my son's lap and the way he was speaking to him. It was so sweet, so tender, so caring. And my daughter? To see her running around with the kids in the gym and treating them like any other kid made me happy beyond belief. After two days, they both made the comment that the kids at the camp are just kids and should have the same opportunities as everyone else. I knew at that moment I made the right decision in bringing them there. Their eyes were opened and their hearts a little fuller. </div>
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Now, I didn't write all of this as a humble brag. At the end of the day I simply want my kids to be caring human beings (read: I don't want to raise assholes). I want them to be the first to invite someone to sit with them. I want them to stand up for others. I want them to be the ally that someone may desperately need. The only way I can think to do that is to show them. At the camp, they became at ease once I was on the ground with the kids and had someone in my lap playing. We as parents need to show our kids what we want to see in the world. </div>
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I am not the perfect parent by any means (literally the day after they did these amazing things one threw a shoe at the other and gave them a black eye...see it's all about balance), but it is my hope that maybe, just maybe I can get through to them and they will be the caring global citizens that I would like them to be. And who knows, maybe this will be their passion in life? <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11856498580073957231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8854221851233882784.post-29183598771639741992018-12-30T19:17:00.002-05:002018-12-30T19:17:54.289-05:00A Very Merry Grinchmas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I could not get myself into the holiday spirit this year. I feel like it gets worse and worse with each passing year (please tell me I am not alone in this). The stress of buying presents, hiding presents, planning dinner, organizing parties, attending parties, parades, cookie decorating, blah blah blah...it's enough to suck the life out of you. And don't even get me started on family Christmas card photos. Y'all, I was a Grinch.<br />
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I don't think I finally got into the spirit until O Come All Ye Faithful was sung at children's mass on Christmas Eve. That song reduces me to tears every time, and no not because Carol Brady was singing it when Mike came out of the mine during A Very Brady Christmas. Maybe it's because the song itself is a reminder of what the holiday is all about. There is no mention of presents, or decorating cookies that are Instagram worthy. It's simply O Come All Ye Faithful...joyful and triumphant. It's a reminder that this holiday is about a husband and wife who had a baby in a barn because that was the only place they could find. It's about the foundation of a faith that has raised not only me but countless other people on this planet (trust me I'm not going to go all religious in the post).<br />
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That was the moment when, much like the Grinch, my heart grew three full sizes. I looked at my family and smiled. This was what Christmas was about.<br />
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I hope all of you had a wonderful holiday and have recovered from the sugar/alcohol combination. I'm looking forward to 2019 and plan to push myself harder than I did in 2018. I have times to beat, muscles to gain, and myself to find again. I'll be honest, I have been seriously lazy since the marathon and just cannot get my mind in the right space for running. I'm hoping the new year will help clear some of the cobwebs and help me get back on the right track.<br />
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Wishing you a happy 2019!<br />
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Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11856498580073957231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8854221851233882784.post-67885677158936103872018-12-11T07:00:00.000-05:002018-12-11T07:00:08.319-05:00The Reality of Alzheimer's - A Daughter's TakeMy parents came down for Thanksgiving this year. These times with them are special to me, and I'll be honest, I was not the ideal daughter this trip. I was overwhelmed by my Dad's Alzheimer's. Can I be really honest and say that I am ashamed to admit that?<br />
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The intelligent, article reading, finding all the facts part of me knows that my Dad will never be my Dad again. He was lost a few years ago when the diagnosis was made. Sure, he looks like my Dad, still kind of acts like my Dad, but he's not my Dad. He's the shell of my Dad. The emotional, self-proclaimed Daddy's girl is having a hard time coming to grips with this reality.<br />
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To see the confusion in his eyes and frustration quickly replace it was hard.<br />
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To hear him ask if this is where he lives now and ask what happened to their house was hard.<br />
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To see this disease weave in and out throughout each day was hard.<br />
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But you know what else was hard? To see the toll it takes on my Mom. She is his 24/7 caregiver and it's wearing on her. I know I was getting irritated when she would respond in a not so nice tone, or take her frustration out on me (and maybe I did the same), but at the end of the day, I cannot imagine what this is like for her. The man she married almost 57 years ago is not that same man.<br />
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And you know what else was hard? To see my kids handle it better than I did. They rolled with it while I crumbled. We went to the movies and my dude was there for my Dad every step of the way while I was stifling an anxiety attack.<br />
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This disease is more than forgetfulness and it affects more than just the patient. It ripples throughout the family like a boulder being thrown into one of those picturesque ponds. Everyone handles it differently, and I thought in my heart of hearts I handled it well before this trip. I thought I was one of the strong ones because I did the research, I studied up on the facts, but in reality, I'm a coward that does not want to face the reality. I have my head buried in the sand, and that sometimes feels like it's burying my head a little deeper with each conversation.<br />
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I wish I was stronger. I wish I could do more. I wish I was a better daughter on this trip. I wish a lot of things really. I wish my Mom had the man she fell in love with to grow old with without this disease. I wish he could have his memories. But most of all I wish nobody else has to go through this. I wish we had a cure or hope for a cure.Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11856498580073957231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8854221851233882784.post-4156936691436265392018-12-10T17:44:00.000-05:002018-12-11T14:55:02.425-05:00Look Who's Back...Back AgainIt's been a while...a year and four months to be exact. A lot has happened in the time, I'll save you the details, but in short, we bought a house (and survived), I changed jobs (and love it), Scott was promoted (I think? I can't remember), the kids turned 10, I ran two more marathons, a few more half marathons, and I do not want to admit how many pairs of running shoes I've gone through.<br />
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I've lost myself, I've found myself, maybe I lost myself again, and maybe I'm working to find myself. I realized I missed writing for fun. I write on a daily basis for work, but let's be real, it's boring and gray. (Is it gray or grey? I flip flop between the two)<br />
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I want to start writing again. I want to document my life, my struggles, my triumphs, my "you won't believe what the hell just happened to me" moments. I'm happy to be back...now grab some coffee and let's start chatting again, I've missed you.Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11856498580073957231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8854221851233882784.post-85084013812356336262017-08-01T06:13:00.000-04:002017-08-01T06:13:30.599-04:00I Just Felt Like Runnin': 200 Days StreakingI did it. I completed my run streak. Going into this challenge I was hoping to make it 100 days because let's be honest, life gets in the way, a lot. I learned so much about myself during these past 200 days and it is hard to believe this challenge is done.<br />
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In 200 days I...<br />
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<li>Have run 611.24 miles</li>
<li>Have wanted to quit more times that I want to admit</li>
<li>Have said the phrase "It's only 11 minutes, you can do 11 minutes" every time I wanted to give up</li>
<li>Have blown through 2, almost 3 pairs of running shoes</li>
<li>Have pushed my own limits and learned when it was enough</li>
<li>Still love running</li>
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A huge shout out to everyone who has supported me throughout this and put up with my constant #runstreak posts. Now I'm ready to focus on Chicago and push through to Goofy.</div>
Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11856498580073957231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8854221851233882784.post-56331319355829846582017-06-17T19:57:00.000-04:002017-06-17T19:57:36.118-04:00In a Corral Far Far Away - Star Wars Dark Side Half Marathon<div style="text-align: center;">
I mean this race only happened on April 23rd and I'm just now writing about it...yikes!</div>
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I normally do not run long distance races at this point in the year because a) it's hot b) it's humid and c) it's hot and humid. However, this year the half fell on my birthday so I had to have the bling. I had to!</div>
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My sister met up with me for the race and we hit the expo on Saturday, which is the last day. I have never gone to the expo this late and was shocked at how empty it was. Y'all, it was so empty that I was basically making rapid purchases to the point that my bank froze my account. Whoops!</div>
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We spent the afternoon at Magic Kingdom and got our carb on over at Tony's, which tends to be our go to carb loading place.</div>
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I have to admit, we are pretty friggin' adorable.</div>
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Race morning came and the humidity hit me when I opened the door. I was super pumped....or whatever. The cool thing with this race was that one of my run the year teams was racing.</div>
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Plus, this would be the first half marathon Tanya and I would run together. We make a pretty good running duo. Coincidentally we also make a kick ass wine drinking duo.</div>
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The humidity sucked from the word go and I know at one point I looked over at Tanya and said "Don't ever let me sign up for this race again." Now Tanya runs at lunch time when it is 90+ degrees with 100% humidity so she was just trucking along and I was like....</div>
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I was struggling around the 7 mile mark. It was gross outside, I started to cramp and I was just done, unless there was a camera, then I was all...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ9jkIBG97hSXCxJ3kqHVYPUhupVB5Nn1hlp7BxxAyw9Fc-SmwKn5LoiLHm7Dg7uj1otIIWJa7nyM-wjcye59cbxsvhygEhHm03DkOI-ueOZ9fIlea8O-STQ8fmj3ucz9dzb1LIlmLRgw/s1600/18057227_10104513199199650_1244975882036199526_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="638" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ9jkIBG97hSXCxJ3kqHVYPUhupVB5Nn1hlp7BxxAyw9Fc-SmwKn5LoiLHm7Dg7uj1otIIWJa7nyM-wjcye59cbxsvhygEhHm03DkOI-ueOZ9fIlea8O-STQ8fmj3ucz9dzb1LIlmLRgw/s320/18057227_10104513199199650_1244975882036199526_n.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
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I sent Tanya ahead once we hit World Showcase. I knew she would kill it and I knew I was holding her back. I kissed my goal of 2:30 goodbye and settled on as close as possible to my previous PR (2:37). I came in at 2:40 and all I wanted was that damn cheese and chips from the snack box and my medal. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW3I8VxYLR6GVpehp2RTn3R1Ds7SfCNsgbo_YqroHSvBXyWWimob1oAzrb5XD6LL9HHnZSQZ0Q1_-Y49y7i8TgxLZOcBpBZmln-313tP-0XPbR_GTLmtDi5fV2Eyj2kN8xNw1hSy5eo6Q/s1600/18119131_10104511576321910_8111058141135048697_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW3I8VxYLR6GVpehp2RTn3R1Ds7SfCNsgbo_YqroHSvBXyWWimob1oAzrb5XD6LL9HHnZSQZ0Q1_-Y49y7i8TgxLZOcBpBZmln-313tP-0XPbR_GTLmtDi5fV2Eyj2kN8xNw1hSy5eo6Q/s320/18119131_10104511576321910_8111058141135048697_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Seriously, this photo encompasses my entire experience. And do we walk to talk about salt in an open wound for a second???? The medal didn't even have the date on it! That was the whole reason I ran the race was to have a medal with my birthday on it!</div>
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Overall the race was hot, humid and gross, but if it was in a cooler month I would totally run it every year. I love Star Wars and to see the characters on the course was pretty fantastic. </div>
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Thanks to my team rum mates and my seeeester for making it a birthday to remember!</div>
Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11856498580073957231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8854221851233882784.post-72968819065531309762017-05-22T06:04:00.000-04:002017-05-22T06:04:03.857-04:00Therapy Running<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEzYMy8PoR1S-0kotyjOf-mnuYpGYiaMXjwF4fZnKY_lqSOZATpDTQRBpn_DkMlyCXb06qXOOrYkU7oHaruxNWUgwnrhH9QLV5QyzuLY_PetRFEg1Lv87mWKUyIGaB_CRXSdsbaZEhe2k/s1600/running.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEzYMy8PoR1S-0kotyjOf-mnuYpGYiaMXjwF4fZnKY_lqSOZATpDTQRBpn_DkMlyCXb06qXOOrYkU7oHaruxNWUgwnrhH9QLV5QyzuLY_PetRFEg1Lv87mWKUyIGaB_CRXSdsbaZEhe2k/s320/running.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
This past year has been, by far, the most challenging year I have had as a wife, mother, and well, quite frankly, as a human being. I'm not even being a little dramatic, this past year just killed me mentally.<br />
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I honestly don't know how I coped with things prior to running because this past year that's the only way I coped. I cannot tell you how many miles ended in tears, moments of satisfaction or just moments that told me it was going to be okay.<br />
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A couple weeks ago I laced up my shoes after quite possibly one of the worst mornings of my life. I had to run it out. I had to get myself in a zone that focused on nothing but getting from point A to point B. I pushed myself, hard. And surprisingly, when my run was done, the worst morning of my life was the best day of my life. The hardship was behind me. The frustration was gone.<br />
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Find whatever it is that will give you that release, because to have that moment of bliss after pure shit is one of the best moments in the world.Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11856498580073957231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8854221851233882784.post-65920676278084922512017-04-17T06:28:00.001-04:002017-04-17T06:28:30.481-04:00Princess Weekend 2017 - 10k and Half<div style="text-align: center;">
So it's been a while since the race...a long while...I know....</div>
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Here's a quick photo recap and some thoughts on the races.</div>
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For the past couple of years we have kept with our Alice in Wonderland theme. Lorren and I typically run this race together and usually at some point she curses me out. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMwC165XYY3pNECaN-Bd7qPJwYMvWh6VQLfmlybggOGedrjzS9JCRy3-XwSzlze5euZXUeBJbmYsmyIbLa3aQa4ebjBpZDwxfxG0DXRFIO2iJxXOnRx89AGiuUfAO7NxgQTuqIqct7uoc/s1600/IMG_0587.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMwC165XYY3pNECaN-Bd7qPJwYMvWh6VQLfmlybggOGedrjzS9JCRy3-XwSzlze5euZXUeBJbmYsmyIbLa3aQa4ebjBpZDwxfxG0DXRFIO2iJxXOnRx89AGiuUfAO7NxgQTuqIqct7uoc/s320/IMG_0587.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf3K1rA3ETaEqWvhIhnFuP7elUi8tfOBiaN4QcapPpCEryiqFfkJI_TTdMifpOsb9KwZHBqAT7654nYzUj9HcAnViS_6jYsIgMXkiSFuCZL0SC_dOz9idR7nVvOj8bTNUYZlROlP4MmvE/s1600/IMG_0588.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf3K1rA3ETaEqWvhIhnFuP7elUi8tfOBiaN4QcapPpCEryiqFfkJI_TTdMifpOsb9KwZHBqAT7654nYzUj9HcAnViS_6jYsIgMXkiSFuCZL0SC_dOz9idR7nVvOj8bTNUYZlROlP4MmvE/s320/IMG_0588.JPG" width="212" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQJc9ForaCNN_dkPs3eHESgwY0JnVyPSaKmsKsruTsc_2SgLOi45xYSd5o5Gx_fwZQwdkKwg1-WAO35IIpcMbxNWx0MR3LRcVHFSDLP-QI98Mq30aXC760BzHuw2Qyj_dr_DsbiLIZ-Qo/s1600/IMG_0573.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQJc9ForaCNN_dkPs3eHESgwY0JnVyPSaKmsKsruTsc_2SgLOi45xYSd5o5Gx_fwZQwdkKwg1-WAO35IIpcMbxNWx0MR3LRcVHFSDLP-QI98Mq30aXC760BzHuw2Qyj_dr_DsbiLIZ-Qo/s320/IMG_0573.JPG" width="212" /></a></div>
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We had our own cheering section on the Boardwalk this year. The whole crew came down in their jammies to cheer us on. I cannot tell you how many friends of mine that were running the race said they saw my crew. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfR983etUyc_mLRqASSDPgOtQPMig62eCg2LfR-9hsyHCuDpCgKD6ImHaOTkPtK8xIYbiOq7xGhsevyWD7029YBl6bBIuQd7HI1cYbq3M96pxg13Am12SecLkNyc-zv4GIvi0OLaQzWwA/s1600/IMG_0556.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfR983etUyc_mLRqASSDPgOtQPMig62eCg2LfR-9hsyHCuDpCgKD6ImHaOTkPtK8xIYbiOq7xGhsevyWD7029YBl6bBIuQd7HI1cYbq3M96pxg13Am12SecLkNyc-zv4GIvi0OLaQzWwA/s320/IMG_0556.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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It was a good race, we pushed but not too hard since the half would be the following morning. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMrkLBPAQTXh-dVVlGDoKtk9k9fjC-CepZM-SGmSrUwygafRgqnBqZa6rscoZ9v4bpMV7rSzHOW4fKejw-pE19CuRs9SPqIrSS6jo8r1zA9mM8AdPHIwSznKT6hcRra9L5j088NEJ5tjo/s1600/IMG_0560.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMrkLBPAQTXh-dVVlGDoKtk9k9fjC-CepZM-SGmSrUwygafRgqnBqZa6rscoZ9v4bpMV7rSzHOW4fKejw-pE19CuRs9SPqIrSS6jo8r1zA9mM8AdPHIwSznKT6hcRra9L5j088NEJ5tjo/s320/IMG_0560.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Now onto the half! For the past few years there has been a group of guys that run dressed as princesses. They are total studs and we have had our eyes set on finding them and taking a photo with them. I knew they were going to be in my corral so I would be able to sneak a photo, but they were hanging near the front when we first arrived. Lorren and I jumped at the chance to score a photo with our favorite, Jasman. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-4CrinknEAz2igjmUyeBThckg30EhLLCY2pybaNxA37r9ZgsW7aeRushaev4ka_qqQSuOl_Q7N1nxs-rg5muH3Q4MQLxVsA-KHa1cgmQKX8elWe5Rogg2wrDTqHsD0H9GfLZJ8KOpMng/s1600/IMG_0605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-4CrinknEAz2igjmUyeBThckg30EhLLCY2pybaNxA37r9ZgsW7aeRushaev4ka_qqQSuOl_Q7N1nxs-rg5muH3Q4MQLxVsA-KHa1cgmQKX8elWe5Rogg2wrDTqHsD0H9GfLZJ8KOpMng/s320/IMG_0605.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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I knew it was gonna be a good race.</div>
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The race started a little late because traffic was awful, but when it did, I was good to go. I took off nice and steady and kept the same pace for the first 10k of the race. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0WFQbwtTS9Ipv2KHTGd6KkHXBnRLvIDExt48wMkIwf8bDHlJKzUiT8gvYy4EisJHdUty4SpelVZqKLj3jW0YPr4DjEyaUM4IQpnBSm9Qu74jLbMyOGz_odhZbcjIDtoyUT1GbYoSYu3Q/s1600/IMG_0610.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0WFQbwtTS9Ipv2KHTGd6KkHXBnRLvIDExt48wMkIwf8bDHlJKzUiT8gvYy4EisJHdUty4SpelVZqKLj3jW0YPr4DjEyaUM4IQpnBSm9Qu74jLbMyOGz_odhZbcjIDtoyUT1GbYoSYu3Q/s320/IMG_0610.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Then it was game on. For the last half of the race I kicked it into high gear and pushed. I had a goal and I wanted to hit it. I wanted to be under 2:40 and my ultimate goal is 2:30. I came in at 2:37 and change. It was huge!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ5EsL7XOtCb502oS4WkSTtG1o26TTZ_Smcw9rJP2qz2G8MDmufgD_hd6S6g2LnaZ_7N3dqI8HP523kPE_IVmaM_L029rIO0OL5CK8KQEab6PjkDdZsKH3ltGlcxlfkGsOJUQsqdkoPDs/s1600/IMG_0623.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ5EsL7XOtCb502oS4WkSTtG1o26TTZ_Smcw9rJP2qz2G8MDmufgD_hd6S6g2LnaZ_7N3dqI8HP523kPE_IVmaM_L029rIO0OL5CK8KQEab6PjkDdZsKH3ltGlcxlfkGsOJUQsqdkoPDs/s320/IMG_0623.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmxCFedatOFZb7oYVoaB5PJY_VRa1y9oH07iLRj10pgXB25yRPq9M-3IR2tuPKbQiBYr3EocbPDWQrqa-ypovaTBTTXcdL5CRY7NjpBx6Jz49Msi31wUq_36AyXpHLeoyDBxcUIp2sQSQ/s1600/IMG_0613.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmxCFedatOFZb7oYVoaB5PJY_VRa1y9oH07iLRj10pgXB25yRPq9M-3IR2tuPKbQiBYr3EocbPDWQrqa-ypovaTBTTXcdL5CRY7NjpBx6Jz49Msi31wUq_36AyXpHLeoyDBxcUIp2sQSQ/s320/IMG_0613.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Best part of hitting your goal? Having those you love at the finish! Scott met me to give me my medals and my parents and kiddos were there too. After Lorren and Cathy finished we all had our celebratory beers. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRuJUkKLaUd8m8JMPRkm4ob8MsiaanaqhW1D14LZmwDHZWegmHvn-kOKA0RP7Ieu6BNT96LF3yu41Ykm5o6HAp8gGNW7CcsBTB9gZg5YHbywM2OnNxrFTMlf1-CzoUDJ0xJBdtS0Nmtbs/s1600/IMG_0677.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRuJUkKLaUd8m8JMPRkm4ob8MsiaanaqhW1D14LZmwDHZWegmHvn-kOKA0RP7Ieu6BNT96LF3yu41Ykm5o6HAp8gGNW7CcsBTB9gZg5YHbywM2OnNxrFTMlf1-CzoUDJ0xJBdtS0Nmtbs/s320/IMG_0677.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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This is the first time my Dad was at the race and I loved having him there. Even though he was a little peeved about the shirt we picked out, I adore this photo. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2P7jy_hGehdIcYOVB8WLFVNJIZhNQHFni3GgZiO3lM7nEhFA9og6nHiU0a960M29rAldbiQEw7EGANU9mQbBtNRb1l-nATxvIWiJkbXDYJVIL-DWHV_n-k2jnfm4T3C1_O9QIruev7EY/s1600/IMG_0713.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2P7jy_hGehdIcYOVB8WLFVNJIZhNQHFni3GgZiO3lM7nEhFA9og6nHiU0a960M29rAldbiQEw7EGANU9mQbBtNRb1l-nATxvIWiJkbXDYJVIL-DWHV_n-k2jnfm4T3C1_O9QIruev7EY/s320/IMG_0713.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Next up is Star Wars this weekend. If you follow me on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/twicethelovehalfthesleep/">my Facebook page</a> check in for photo updates! </div>
<br />Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11856498580073957231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8854221851233882784.post-89195592350074307522017-03-12T19:56:00.000-04:002017-03-12T19:56:12.124-04:00Princess Weekend 2017 - Expo & 5k<div style="text-align: center;">
Ah Princess weekend. The weekend where my sister, niece and I descend upon WDW for a weekend of running, popcorn, and shenanigans. This year my parents joined in on the fun and my brother happened to be there as well for a golf trip. </div>
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Day 1 of our journey happened to coincide with Cathy's birthday. To celebrate we enjoyed some southern fried goodness and hummingbird cake at Art Smith's Homecoming in Disney Springs. The food here is beyond delicious and I am still slightly traumatized by the speed in which my niece consumed deviled eggs. </div>
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After dinner us girls headed to the expo to pick up our packets and shop (naturally). This is the latest we have ever gone to expo and it was fabulous. There was nobody there. We literally walked right up to everything. </div>
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We didn't even wait to take our picture with the sign. Whaaaat???? The three of us are perfect glass slipper by the way, just in case you wanted to know that fun fact.</div>
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The theme this year was Beauty and the Beast so naturally Lorren and I had to snag this pic....</div>
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To tell you how empty the expo was, we were able to get a photo with Rapunzel...</div>
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...and the rose from Beauty and the Beast...</div>
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It was early to bed though because we had the 5k the next morning, but that didn't stop Lorren from challenging me to a plank off...</div>
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Guess who won? Hint: not Lorren.</div>
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The 5k is a favorite for us because it is just really chill (not timed at all) and we just walk and have fun.</div>
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We also wear our Peggy Sue shirts for this race. If you have been with RunDisney for a while you know all about her. She was our favorite spectator and it is just not the same without seeing her on the course. </div>
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After the race we met up with everyone for breakfast. I was even able to snag a rare photo of this guy smirking.</div>
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I cannot even begin to tell you how much it meant to have my Dad there for race weekend. The three of us have been <a href="http://act.alz.org/site/TR/ActiveEvents/IL-GreaterIllinois?px=13103372&pg=personal&fr_id=9536">raising money for Alzheimer's research</a> in honor of him and it just means so much to have him there. </div>
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I'll have more posts covering the other races in the coming days. </div>
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<br />Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11856498580073957231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8854221851233882784.post-26072173825852643842017-03-05T19:22:00.000-05:002017-03-05T19:22:13.175-05:00Find Your Tribe<div style="text-align: center;">
Yet again I have failed in the world of blogging. I have not posted since the marathon and there has definitely been a lot of exciting things happening. I will post about my run streak as well as Princess weekend, but right now I want to write about finding your tribe.</div>
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Your what?</div>
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Your tribe.</div>
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Something I have learned throughout this crazy running experience is that you only get stronger when you surround yourself with strong and encouraging people. You need people around you that push you to be your best self. You need the challenge.</div>
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My tribe is pretty big and pretty kick ass if I do say so myself. My Mamas from MRTT are always pushing me and always challenging me. It is so refreshing to have a group of women who constantly build each other up. </div>
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My running buddies are equally amazing. Sometimes you just need a run with one other person. Sometimes those runs are filled with conversation (maybe more conversation that running) and sometimes they are quiet, but words are not needed. </div>
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My family is fantastically supportive. My sister is constantly cheering for me, my niece is as well. My parents came out to cheer us on in their pj's for goodness sakes! It doesn't get much better than that!</div>
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My kiddos are so proud and honestly it means the world. They get excited when they see me on a course and they tell me how proud they are of me even after a weekend run. </div>
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Of course I cannot talk about my tribe without mentioning the chief himself. I'll tell you what, I lucked out. Scott is one of the most supportive members of my tribe. He pushes me, supports me and keeps me going. This past race weekend when I knew I was close to a PR my phone was blowing up with texts from him telling me to "GOOOOOOOOO!" Not everyone gets this kind of support from a spouse. I mean, really, this distance running is a total time suck and kills most date nights (Oh you wanted to eat cajun food tonight, yeah I'm running 10 in the morning that won't end well), but he gets it. As he enters the world of duathlons and triathlons I can only hope that I am as much of a support system as he is for me. </div>
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Everyone needs a tribe. Everyone needs a support system in this world. I will happily join your tribe and help cheer you along the way! </div>
Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11856498580073957231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8854221851233882784.post-58376397898442202342017-01-15T19:41:00.001-05:002017-01-15T19:41:54.836-05:00WDW Marathon 2017: Non, Je ne regrette rien<div style="text-align: center;">
Well another marathon weekend has come and gone. I was signed up for the Goofy Challenge which is where you run both the half marathon and the full marathon...back to back like a totally and completely insane person.</div>
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I'm gonna be honest, I was not ready. I got some miles in, but not nearly enough. I was sick to my stomach going into the weekend because 39.3 miles is a lot. My plan was to run the half with my friend Carrie because she was coming off an injury. I knew we would be slow and I was good with that. 26.2 after that though? Oooooh Lordy.</div>
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Then mother nature was like....</div>
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The radar was tracking heavy storms with a ton of lightning for Saturday at race start. The decision was made by runDisney to cancel the half.</div>
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Cancel.The.Half.</div>
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Yes. That happened.</div>
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Since the decision was made that night Cathy and I were able to sleep in, and by sleep in I mean I woke up at 6:30 and started tracking the weather to see when I could sneak in a run. I found a window and took my chances. I am so glad I went because what I saw was the most amazing thing I have ever witnessed.</div>
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Runners, running and cheering and celebrating. Disney may have canceled the half but these runners were out there earning their bling. They had on their bibs, they were in costumes, you name it. When I made my way to the main building of Riverside there was a group of people handing out water and Powerade. It was amazing.</div>
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I only ran 2 miles because I knew the rain was coming back and I really did not want to get stuck in it. Plus, Cathy and I were going for breakfast!</div>
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Heck yes we were matching, you wanna say something? </div>
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After breakfast we headed back over to the expo because Cathy needed to pick her race reimbursement option (yes, they offered 4 options which is completely unheard of!) and I wanted to swap out my Goofy Challenge stuff for marathon gear. </div>
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Literally everyone was doing the same thing as us. It took forever to get there, five seconds while we were there and a lifetime to leave. Seriously we waited longer on the bus than most people waited to get on the new Frozen ride. But did the people on the Frozen ride have this kid photobomb their selfie? No...no they did not.</div>
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The whole expo debacle really screwed up our day because by the time we were done it was time to head back for dinner and get some sleep. There was no time for popcorn OR cotton candy. Ridiculous.</div>
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Before I knew it, it was upon me....</div>
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Marathon morning was cold. And I'm not just being a Florida wimp, it was 30 with a windchill in the 20's. Thankfully I was layered to the high heavens and had some hand warmers. </div>
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I was pretty okay going into the full since I saved my legs the day before, so my nerves were pretty good when I started. My only issue was that I was cold. I finally started to warm up around mile one and a half and decided to shed a layer. This was all fine and dandy until I turned the corner and hit a head wind. Yeah, that was awesome....NOT.</div>
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I had to just keep moving, it was the only way I was going to stay warm. I made it to Magic Kingdom not long after the sun came up and it was a much welcomed sunrise. I was still feeling pretty good and tracking to finish in under 6 hours (for reference last year I finished in 6:38). </div>
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How fun is this security cast member? I went to take my selfie and saw him walking up to me, he asked if he could take the photo and I said, no you should be in it!</div>
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Have I mentioned I love running through Magic Kingdom? It's my favorite and one of my favorite parts is usually the mile 7 mark. Last year the mile marker was Bambi and I lost my mind (I LOVE Bambi and I love the song "Little April Showers" which was playing). This year I almost lost my mind because who was at mile 7?</div>
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Sam Motha Lovin Eagle.</div>
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I love Sam Eagle. You don't even know. If I could have scaled Hall of Presidents and kissed his beautiful blue beak, I would have and then run from my security friend.</div>
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Sam Eagle y'all! Ah!</div>
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Okay, I'm back...(SAM EAGLE)...</div>
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I was still clipping along coming out of Magic Kingdom and heading towards Animal Kingdom. This stretch was a little different as far as entertainment this year. For instance, they had this gem:</div>
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No, not the woman dressed as Dory, the 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea ride vehicle. It is my brother Kevin's favorite ride. Okay, marathon detour...on one of the first trips to the World (maybe it was the first, I don't know, I wasn't there) my family waited some ungodly amount of time to ride this ride because Kevin wanted to ride it. Upon arrival at the front of the line my brother said he was not going on the ride because it looked stupid. My father being the calm cool and collected person that he is threw him into the submarine and the rest is history.</div>
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The course changed a little before heading into Animal Kingdom, which I anticipated because of the construction at Hollywood Studios. But LORD is it boring on that stretch of highway. Thankfully we had some entertainment in the form of barnyard animals when we entered the park.</div>
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I was still doing pretty well in Animal Kingdom as is evident by this photo:</div>
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Look at my jazz hand smiling face behind this poor woman. </div>
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Once we left Animal Kingdom the stretch of highway I despise was upon me...Osceola Parkway. Snoooooooze fest with a head wind because that sounds amazing. </div>
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After what felt like forever I made it into Wide World of Sports. Last year this is where my stomach gave me the middle finger and I had to do a lot of walking. This year I was doing pretty well and met up with the 6 hour pace group. 6 hours was still better than 6:38 in my book. </div>
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Except I hit my wall. Mile 21 my body and mind were like, "Oh, this is cute." </div>
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Then I saw Shelly (MRTT ROCKS) around mile 22 or 23 and all was right in the world. We walked and talked our way through the final few miles. We even ran the last .2 and I didn't look like I was dying, so bonus.</div>
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I came in at 6:14 which was a 24 minute PR. That's huge and I should be insanely proud, but part of me thought if I trained a little better I could have been sub 6. But no matter what I had this waiting for me at the finish:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdftEhuXfH9lLYhdfNdxTg3C8ItevFeIK9s0CplfyNb22cs-n59saZBzQMuBDlLp0T8-GqgAFCkYQk1wfIcFZQVdQV-iABiXOZ4eMmDGvztx9UWrDRth_7h-jG_BcxAFzeQtdVhkkhoqc/s1600/marathon10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdftEhuXfH9lLYhdfNdxTg3C8ItevFeIK9s0CplfyNb22cs-n59saZBzQMuBDlLp0T8-GqgAFCkYQk1wfIcFZQVdQV-iABiXOZ4eMmDGvztx9UWrDRth_7h-jG_BcxAFzeQtdVhkkhoqc/s320/marathon10.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Something about getting my bling from him makes it that much sweeter.</div>
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This marathon went a lot better than I could have imagined and I am eager to actually complete Goofy next year.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9qIHd2xCl4qUWPICavrAx04tbY3vhyphenhyphen89IplMCHzDlLTLtAGsDViuJXRb1vsSMgnOHXYl4EvlBwiF-FLxmgvkx5ZkCH0xCJkqpLMPZVcWyLhRjFJw8DnwuTqLFxJ_xuqNNTtF46WNxc9k/s1600/marathon11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="176" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9qIHd2xCl4qUWPICavrAx04tbY3vhyphenhyphen89IplMCHzDlLTLtAGsDViuJXRb1vsSMgnOHXYl4EvlBwiF-FLxmgvkx5ZkCH0xCJkqpLMPZVcWyLhRjFJw8DnwuTqLFxJ_xuqNNTtF46WNxc9k/s320/marathon11.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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A huge thank you to my sister who also braved the cold to cheer me on and who wrote encouragement signs in French, a language neither of us speak. This is our jam though and throughout my training Cathy constantly sent me this as encouragement:</div>
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I am thrilled this marathon is behind me and like I said, I cannot wait to really commit to next year. I pushed myself harder this year and it totally paid off. </div>
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Now I will leave you with this...proof that no matter how old you are you will always be the baby sister that the older sister photobombs at Cinderella Castle.</div>
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So...Goofy 2018 training starts now, right?</div>
Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11856498580073957231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8854221851233882784.post-78926385453702931772017-01-01T17:57:00.001-05:002017-01-01T17:57:43.706-05:002,017 in 2017!<div style="text-align: center;">
2016 was my lax year for running (and for posting on this blog too, am I right?). I did so much in 2015 to get ready for my first full and then after completing both that and princess, I hit a wall. I thought signing up for Goofy would light my fire, and it did, until it was Shanghaied.</div>
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I can't blame the lack on miles on Scott's four months in Shanghai. I checked out, plain and simple. Thankfully, I did start running with my local Moms Run This Town (MRTT) and I have been conquering things I never thought possible.</div>
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I always knew I could run a little faster, but they made me do it.</div>
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I always knew I could up my intervals, but they (they meaning Tracy) made me do it.</div>
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I always knew I could conquer the hills and still keep going strong, but they made me do it.</div>
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I have some ambitious goals for 2017, but hey, why not? I have a team set to run 2,017 miles in 2017 (our team name is We Thought You Said Rum, because obviously...). I am personally challenging myself to run 1,000 miles this year. Yeah, I know, that's crazy, but I am running two marathons this year plus who knows what other races. The training will get me there, I'm sure of it.</div>
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I'm also streaking...</div>
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Okay, not that kind of streaking. I'm doing a running streak. Basically I just need to run 1 mile a day for as long as I can. I was going to officially start today, but I've run every day since Thursday, so happy day 4 for me!</div>
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I will try to do a better job posting about my trainings on here. I wish all of you a very happy and healthy new year! </div>
Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11856498580073957231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8854221851233882784.post-9275323316848518192016-12-18T21:07:00.000-05:002017-01-01T17:48:21.458-05:00What I've Been Up To...<div style="text-align: center;">
It's been busy over here...</div>
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We raced for cinnamon rolls in Memphis over Thanksgiving.</div>
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My little Miss ran with Girls on the Run and I got to be her running buddy!</div>
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I ran with my wonderful MRTT ladies around the Boardwalk.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZkl3HjF68VHggY0NRPpsHA8BnFTMcDSl2NMg6rNVyan-ODBePrUvcnuTsLhO2MyP5W0WIhG8aNhV6hELypS2LH4NTZ8gTfsUuSgxzJMOzEtb32Te0Tv-QS3l9znEd9vwAnyDC6thXCac/s1600/15370197_10104074910139440_1473612479459015532_o+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZkl3HjF68VHggY0NRPpsHA8BnFTMcDSl2NMg6rNVyan-ODBePrUvcnuTsLhO2MyP5W0WIhG8aNhV6hELypS2LH4NTZ8gTfsUuSgxzJMOzEtb32Te0Tv-QS3l9znEd9vwAnyDC6thXCac/s320/15370197_10104074910139440_1473612479459015532_o+%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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And then did it again and shaved an HOUR off my time for this distance from a year ago. </div>
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Goofy is right around the corner and I'm getting anxious. I hope all of you are well!</div>
<br />Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11856498580073957231noreply@blogger.com0