I'm getting older and I consider that a very good thing. It beats the alternative.
My body (and mind) have reminded me of my age this week. The Big Race recovery hasn't been as difficult as I expected. It's been almost exactly as I expected. Sore muscles at the start were of epic proportions and they've faded into memory only. The only physical reminders I have are at my right heel (will that ever go away?) and my left second toe. It's still tender. I've been reading up on Morton's Toe. To call myself a genetic freakshow is a bit dramatic and won't bring me any sympathy. It does bring me the knowledge that my toe will get better and maybe I can prevent this pain from happening in the future.
It also makes me feel good to know that the Statue of Liberty and I have something in common - other than a pensive countenance which might be mistaken as guarding rather than welcoming. When I was spending hours online last week I found pics of her feet poking out from under her robes. Who knew?
So, my mind. Last night I went country western dancing with a friend. Let me take that back. I put on boots and jeans. She drove us to a honky tonk. We paid cover to listen to a surprisingly good band. (I say this because surprisingly, my ears didn't bleed.) She danced. I drank two bottles of Michelob Ultra beer and watched the dancing. Prior to going, I'd told her I wouldn't be dancing. I know how to two-step and polka. I can waltz. I don't love it and I didn't feel like it. I was happy to sit along the rail and watch. The crowd was all ages, twenties through sixties and up. Some were outstanding dancers. Some fair. It was fun.
During band breaks the DJ played the kind of music I usually dance to. When I'm on a cruise ship or when I'm out with friends and I've had two vodka martinis. I continued to watch. Honestly, I was happy to have "my foot hurts" as an excuse not to dance.
I also realized I'm invoking an age provision in my head. I'm going to call it the "Grandmother Clause".
If at a certain point in your life you are tempted to exhibit behavior that you are certain would mortify any grandchildren you have or could potentially have due to your chronologic age, don't.
I think it's pretty simple, just based on that one simple word: mortify.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not going to stop dancing. Just don't be surprised if THIS Brick House never once takes the Jersey Turnpike on the dance floor.
(p.s. I think my Dad would agree with the above. Here's to a fantastic Grandfather who knew how to keep it classy. Missing him as much today as I did three years ago. Broken hearts can mend. Thanks for the love.)
©Michelle Scofield, January 26, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Saturday, January 26, 2013
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
What's Next?
Several have asked, "What's next?"
I'm not sure. I've been so busy recovering. Or rather, I've been so NOT busy recovering. I've been sleeping and (at times) eating. I've watched a lot of trash television (via the net). I've read magazines. And I've been sleeping some more.
I developed a horrific toothache very late Saturday night. Seems one of the silver fillings in a back molar exceeded it's utility. It was older than my daughter and she's a Physician. You do the math.
I spent two nights in pain with my only relief being the discovery of an old lidocaine patch buried deep under my bathroom sink. I cut a small square and plastered it on my face and waited. For a few minutes I wondered if it was too close to the return blood supply to my heart - would I experience arrhythmia? I could do a little research. Nah, the pain was too intense.
Anatomy is my thing. I know the nerve supply to that part of my jaw. I know the blood supply. I can give a lecture on the pathophysiology of nerve pain. Pain trumped vascularity. I left the patch on.
Obviously, I didn't die and it worked enough to get me through to Monday morning.
I went to work at 7:15 and at 8am Monday morning, I called a dentist's office new to my neighborhood. The doctor himself answered the phone and said he could see me at 9. Awesome. I let my boss know I was leaving the office. (At this point there was no asking. Everything was informational.) By 11:30 I was back in the office. Although I was sore the remainder of the day, I woke up this morning feeling worlds of improvement.
I'll have the remainder of the repair done in a couple of weeks.
I'd read that marathon runners can expect to have an infection or illness immediately after the race. My bet is that all the ibuprofen I was taking for my heel pain masked the dental problem. When I backed off the analgesic, the tooth declared itself.
I'm just happy to have it taken care of.
I'm also happy to report that I ran a little over 3 miles today. I kept my pace a little quicker than I usually run. The sun was warm, the air clear, and traffic not too bad. I finished in 33:18. (No, I'm not setting any land speed records but I worked up a good sweat.) I've been feeling so sluggish laying around. Resting was good. I've done it. Now let's move on.
So, anyway. What's next? I'm not sure. I want to keep moving. Some running friends told me I shouldn't rule out another marathon at this point. I say bullshit. I'm not running another marathon.
I received an email inviting me to register for a limited field half marathon in March. I'm not even sure about that. It's right in my neighborhood. Maybe. I might.
I just want to run for the hell of it for awhile. I want to drop about 10 more pounds.
And I want to take a vacation. That's not so far in the future. Details to follow.
©Michelle Scofield, January 22, 2013 All Rights Reserved
I'm not sure. I've been so busy recovering. Or rather, I've been so NOT busy recovering. I've been sleeping and (at times) eating. I've watched a lot of trash television (via the net). I've read magazines. And I've been sleeping some more.
I developed a horrific toothache very late Saturday night. Seems one of the silver fillings in a back molar exceeded it's utility. It was older than my daughter and she's a Physician. You do the math.
I spent two nights in pain with my only relief being the discovery of an old lidocaine patch buried deep under my bathroom sink. I cut a small square and plastered it on my face and waited. For a few minutes I wondered if it was too close to the return blood supply to my heart - would I experience arrhythmia? I could do a little research. Nah, the pain was too intense.
Anatomy is my thing. I know the nerve supply to that part of my jaw. I know the blood supply. I can give a lecture on the pathophysiology of nerve pain. Pain trumped vascularity. I left the patch on.
Obviously, I didn't die and it worked enough to get me through to Monday morning.
I went to work at 7:15 and at 8am Monday morning, I called a dentist's office new to my neighborhood. The doctor himself answered the phone and said he could see me at 9. Awesome. I let my boss know I was leaving the office. (At this point there was no asking. Everything was informational.) By 11:30 I was back in the office. Although I was sore the remainder of the day, I woke up this morning feeling worlds of improvement.
I'll have the remainder of the repair done in a couple of weeks.
I'd read that marathon runners can expect to have an infection or illness immediately after the race. My bet is that all the ibuprofen I was taking for my heel pain masked the dental problem. When I backed off the analgesic, the tooth declared itself.
I'm just happy to have it taken care of.
I'm also happy to report that I ran a little over 3 miles today. I kept my pace a little quicker than I usually run. The sun was warm, the air clear, and traffic not too bad. I finished in 33:18. (No, I'm not setting any land speed records but I worked up a good sweat.) I've been feeling so sluggish laying around. Resting was good. I've done it. Now let's move on.
So, anyway. What's next? I'm not sure. I want to keep moving. Some running friends told me I shouldn't rule out another marathon at this point. I say bullshit. I'm not running another marathon.
I received an email inviting me to register for a limited field half marathon in March. I'm not even sure about that. It's right in my neighborhood. Maybe. I might.
I just want to run for the hell of it for awhile. I want to drop about 10 more pounds.
And I want to take a vacation. That's not so far in the future. Details to follow.
©Michelle Scofield, January 22, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Friday, January 18, 2013
Explanation Not Necessary
I've had 5 days to contemplate my marathon run and the subsequent pain and suffering. Yes, it's all that it's cracked up to be.
You know those grab bars next to toilets? The ones screwed onto hospital walls so that people who are weak and frail can lift themselves up from a seated position? Yeah, those. Let's just say it's a damned good thing I work in a hospital.
My quadriceps were screaming like an Edvard Munch painting. Walking down the 8 steps to my parked car caused me to groan deep - from the belly - like an injured beast. Pretty impressive in an empty, multi-level garage. The echoing moan was horrific. I know this because I saw the look on a neighbor's face when he heard it.
For 48 hours, all I wanted to do was sleep but every time I rolled over, I woke with pain.
Through the entire week I was eating nutritious meals. I filled my plates with lean protein and colorful fruits and vegetables. I drank gallons of water. I kept telling myself that I was rebuilding muscle, that I was protecting my kidneys, that I was doing the right thing for my body which I now kind of, well, love.
And things started to get better.
I noticed that I was able to stand without wincing in pain. I slept more than 3 hours at a time. My headache went away.
I made an appointment for a massage and although it was tough, it was the right thing to do. I woke up the next morning and had only a trace of soreness.
Today I laced up my shoes and allowed myself 2 miles of light jogging interspersed with walking. I didn't wear my Garmin. I didn't listen to music or a podcast. I lifted my face to the sun, I breathed, I moved, and I thought.
Here's the thing that's been circling my mind for the last week. I've been trying to figure out how to define the personality shift I experienced in training for and running my first (and God help me only) full marathon.
Confidence.
Can I elaborate? Not really. It's just there. I feel it. I know it. And that's all that I need from it. For someone who dealt with "not enough" a good portion of her life, this will suffice.
©Michelle Scofield, January 18, 2013 All Rights Reserved
You know those grab bars next to toilets? The ones screwed onto hospital walls so that people who are weak and frail can lift themselves up from a seated position? Yeah, those. Let's just say it's a damned good thing I work in a hospital.
My quadriceps were screaming like an Edvard Munch painting. Walking down the 8 steps to my parked car caused me to groan deep - from the belly - like an injured beast. Pretty impressive in an empty, multi-level garage. The echoing moan was horrific. I know this because I saw the look on a neighbor's face when he heard it.
For 48 hours, all I wanted to do was sleep but every time I rolled over, I woke with pain.
Through the entire week I was eating nutritious meals. I filled my plates with lean protein and colorful fruits and vegetables. I drank gallons of water. I kept telling myself that I was rebuilding muscle, that I was protecting my kidneys, that I was doing the right thing for my body which I now kind of, well, love.
And things started to get better.
I noticed that I was able to stand without wincing in pain. I slept more than 3 hours at a time. My headache went away.
I made an appointment for a massage and although it was tough, it was the right thing to do. I woke up the next morning and had only a trace of soreness.
Today I laced up my shoes and allowed myself 2 miles of light jogging interspersed with walking. I didn't wear my Garmin. I didn't listen to music or a podcast. I lifted my face to the sun, I breathed, I moved, and I thought.
Here's the thing that's been circling my mind for the last week. I've been trying to figure out how to define the personality shift I experienced in training for and running my first (and God help me only) full marathon.
Confidence.
Can I elaborate? Not really. It's just there. I feel it. I know it. And that's all that I need from it. For someone who dealt with "not enough" a good portion of her life, this will suffice.
©Michelle Scofield, January 18, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Sunday, January 13, 2013
While It's Fresh in My Cloudy Mind
Chevron Houston Marathon
about 48 degrees and raining
Split Time mph min/mile
5K 00:36:30 11:45 5.11
10K 01:15:36 12:10 4.93
15K 01:56:02 12:27 4.82
20K 02:40:12 12:54 4.66
HALF 02:48:49 12:53 4.66
25K 03:20:49 12:56 4.64
30K 04:04:50 13:08 4.57
35K 04:47:59 13:15 4.53
40K 05:31:26 13:20 4.50
Finish Net 05:49:39 13:20 4.50
I'm really glad I stayed downtown last night. The Hilton was awesome. From the minute I pulled into the valet lane (What? You expected me to do otherwise?), to check in, to mac and cheese room service (I was freaked out because I was awake and hungry at 11pm) to check out...the place was friendly, professional, and ran like clockwork. I was super pumped to realize that I'd been placed in room 12071 - same as my bib number. This put me in a beautiful King room, overlooking Discovery Green. I'm going to write one helluva excellent happy customer letter to their management.
Being downtown allowed me to arrive at the convention center at 6am without worrying about finding a parking place. I felt semi-rested even though I woke about every 2 hours last night. I'm really glad I didn't have to get up and drive in from Sugar Land this morning. Once in George R. Brown, I checked my gear and found a spot to settle in until it was time to head to the start. Knowing I was in the Open Corral (read: slow runners), there was no point in standing outside in the rain.
I talked to a young lady from Oklahoma City who also didn't sleep last night. She said she almost chose not to run the Half today because of lack of rest. Her husband told her that would be a weenie move. What did I think of that? Yeah, I said. She was already here. It would probably be kind of a weenie move. She laughed. She asked me about my gray bib. I told her about the Corral system and that it was my first marathon and I was just planning to finish. Time wasn't really on my mind. She asked my age. I told her. 52. For just a couple more months. I explained to her why it was so important to run 26.2 miles while I was 52. It's the math. 26X2=52. She surprised me when she told me how inspiring that is and that she will always remember me. She said she wants to run a marathon when she's 52. Wow. There is no way in hell I'm running one 26 years from now. I swear to God. No way. :) I don't care HOW bad my OCD gets.
We said goodbye. I went outside.
It rained. Like a mother. I was happy to have my clear plastic poncho to at least keep me from getting soaked - other than my feet. I was running in my own personal shoe puddles before I hit mile one. Squishy squish. And the famous jam at the corral? Wow. It took me over 15 minutes just to get to the start line.
Here's what I can tell you about running a marathon. Better yet, I'd rather let Steve Prefontaine tell you about running a race. "A race is a work of art that people can look at and be affected in as many ways as they're capable of understanding."
I heard that quote about 2 weeks ago and scribbled it on a Post It note. I've been carrying it around with me for inspiration. I felt it down to my toes and in my gut and it moved through my blood today.
I felt it as I stepped over the starting line and felt my son's presence next to me.
I felt it with every spectator who read my name on my bib and called out, "Go Michelle! You can do it! You've got this! Looking good!" (Standing next to them were my daughter, "I love you, Mama!" and all my friends and family who have put up with my nonstop running talk.)
I felt it when I looked ahead of me and saw thousands of fellow runners filling the streets and for a moment longed for my camera but instantly knew I didn't need it. I will never forget that image. Never.
I felt it when I saw my friends at the 21 mile mark with their dog, Ranger. A beautiful couple with their adorable dog - waiting for me!!! Suddenly I was the single most important runner in Houston.
I felt it when I turned the corner toward the finish line and two years of emotion swept over me and I knew I couldn't possibly name everything I was feeling but I was feeling such...openness and authenticity. And I was feeling love for myself and an unbridled sense of accomplishment. And I let it out. And dammit, it felt great.
Immediately after finishing, I retrieved my medal and shirt, claimed my gear bag, and found my friends Tom and Diana. They asked me where I'd like to eat lunch. Um...Anywhere? I wasn't clear on exactly how to move my legs - let alone how to navigate Houston traffic. They had a plan. We'd get my car and Tom would drive it. Good plan. I was able to tell him how to get to Pappisito's. Diana met us there. During the short trip to the restaurant, the cement in my legs cured and as I swung them out of the passenger side of the car, I realized that I was carrying two forty pound blocks with me. They moved, but it wasn't pretty.
We were seated after about 15 minutes and 1/2 a Michelob Ultra. Damned fine beer.
I ate only half of an enchilada dinner I thought I would devour. Not sure what was going on there. Guess I'm just too tired to eat. It was delicious but very rich. I brought the rest home and I imagine it will be my dinner. I'm not going out tonight.
I'm recovering and I expect the process to go on for some time. I've already had a soak in a hot tub and Epsom salts. My movie will be "Manhattan". My flannel PJs are starting to do their job as I'm no longer chilled. I took a personal day off work tomorrow. I have no plans other than to be kind to myself.
Speaking of which: If you've ever thought you might take on a big project like this, I say, "Go for it! You can do it!" I'm sore - no, I'm hurting. I also wouldn't trade the last few months for anything. And today was a once in a lifetime experience for me. Fantastic!
©Michelle Scofield, January 13, 2013 All Rights Reserved
about 48 degrees and raining
Split Time mph min/mile
5K 00:36:30 11:45 5.11
10K 01:15:36 12:10 4.93
15K 01:56:02 12:27 4.82
20K 02:40:12 12:54 4.66
HALF 02:48:49 12:53 4.66
25K 03:20:49 12:56 4.64
30K 04:04:50 13:08 4.57
35K 04:47:59 13:15 4.53
40K 05:31:26 13:20 4.50
Finish Net 05:49:39 13:20 4.50
I'm really glad I stayed downtown last night. The Hilton was awesome. From the minute I pulled into the valet lane (What? You expected me to do otherwise?), to check in, to mac and cheese room service (I was freaked out because I was awake and hungry at 11pm) to check out...the place was friendly, professional, and ran like clockwork. I was super pumped to realize that I'd been placed in room 12071 - same as my bib number. This put me in a beautiful King room, overlooking Discovery Green. I'm going to write one helluva excellent happy customer letter to their management.
Being downtown allowed me to arrive at the convention center at 6am without worrying about finding a parking place. I felt semi-rested even though I woke about every 2 hours last night. I'm really glad I didn't have to get up and drive in from Sugar Land this morning. Once in George R. Brown, I checked my gear and found a spot to settle in until it was time to head to the start. Knowing I was in the Open Corral (read: slow runners), there was no point in standing outside in the rain.
I talked to a young lady from Oklahoma City who also didn't sleep last night. She said she almost chose not to run the Half today because of lack of rest. Her husband told her that would be a weenie move. What did I think of that? Yeah, I said. She was already here. It would probably be kind of a weenie move. She laughed. She asked me about my gray bib. I told her about the Corral system and that it was my first marathon and I was just planning to finish. Time wasn't really on my mind. She asked my age. I told her. 52. For just a couple more months. I explained to her why it was so important to run 26.2 miles while I was 52. It's the math. 26X2=52. She surprised me when she told me how inspiring that is and that she will always remember me. She said she wants to run a marathon when she's 52. Wow. There is no way in hell I'm running one 26 years from now. I swear to God. No way. :) I don't care HOW bad my OCD gets.
We said goodbye. I went outside.
It rained. Like a mother. I was happy to have my clear plastic poncho to at least keep me from getting soaked - other than my feet. I was running in my own personal shoe puddles before I hit mile one. Squishy squish. And the famous jam at the corral? Wow. It took me over 15 minutes just to get to the start line.
Here's what I can tell you about running a marathon. Better yet, I'd rather let Steve Prefontaine tell you about running a race. "A race is a work of art that people can look at and be affected in as many ways as they're capable of understanding."
I heard that quote about 2 weeks ago and scribbled it on a Post It note. I've been carrying it around with me for inspiration. I felt it down to my toes and in my gut and it moved through my blood today.
I felt it as I stepped over the starting line and felt my son's presence next to me.
I felt it with every spectator who read my name on my bib and called out, "Go Michelle! You can do it! You've got this! Looking good!" (Standing next to them were my daughter, "I love you, Mama!" and all my friends and family who have put up with my nonstop running talk.)
I felt it when I looked ahead of me and saw thousands of fellow runners filling the streets and for a moment longed for my camera but instantly knew I didn't need it. I will never forget that image. Never.
I felt it when I saw my friends at the 21 mile mark with their dog, Ranger. A beautiful couple with their adorable dog - waiting for me!!! Suddenly I was the single most important runner in Houston.
I felt it when I turned the corner toward the finish line and two years of emotion swept over me and I knew I couldn't possibly name everything I was feeling but I was feeling such...openness and authenticity. And I was feeling love for myself and an unbridled sense of accomplishment. And I let it out. And dammit, it felt great.
Immediately after finishing, I retrieved my medal and shirt, claimed my gear bag, and found my friends Tom and Diana. They asked me where I'd like to eat lunch. Um...Anywhere? I wasn't clear on exactly how to move my legs - let alone how to navigate Houston traffic. They had a plan. We'd get my car and Tom would drive it. Good plan. I was able to tell him how to get to Pappisito's. Diana met us there. During the short trip to the restaurant, the cement in my legs cured and as I swung them out of the passenger side of the car, I realized that I was carrying two forty pound blocks with me. They moved, but it wasn't pretty.
We were seated after about 15 minutes and 1/2 a Michelob Ultra. Damned fine beer.
I ate only half of an enchilada dinner I thought I would devour. Not sure what was going on there. Guess I'm just too tired to eat. It was delicious but very rich. I brought the rest home and I imagine it will be my dinner. I'm not going out tonight.
I'm recovering and I expect the process to go on for some time. I've already had a soak in a hot tub and Epsom salts. My movie will be "Manhattan". My flannel PJs are starting to do their job as I'm no longer chilled. I took a personal day off work tomorrow. I have no plans other than to be kind to myself.
Speaking of which: If you've ever thought you might take on a big project like this, I say, "Go for it! You can do it!" I'm sore - no, I'm hurting. I also wouldn't trade the last few months for anything. And today was a once in a lifetime experience for me. Fantastic!
©Michelle Scofield, January 13, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Why Risk It?
Days to Chevron Houston Marathon: 5
Planned Run: 3 miles
3.02 miles 34:54 10:54 pace
5:30 am 53 degrees
I snuck in my morning run between rain showers. Today and tomorrow are supposed to be thunderous. That's January in Houston. The forecast for Sunday morning? 30 percent chance of rain.
Tomorrow I've got a 4 mile run on my schedule, followed by 2 on Thursday. I'm thinking I may need to consider the stationary bike instead of that 4 miler. I'm don't want to take any chances on running in the blinding rain - at least not before I have to. If that's what the weather holds for Sunday, I'll do it.
I worked a couple consults with my boss yesterday. We saw someone on the 4th floor and next stop was floor 2. Instead of heading for the elevators, he went for the stairs. I was sooooooo careful walking those two flights down. I could just imagine me falling and breaking a leg after all these months. Kind of silly, really. I'm probably in the best physical condition I've been in for my entire adult life. Stairs shouldn't be an issue anymore.
I've been washing my hands like crazy and avoiding crowds. I'd be really pissed if I caught a cold or this upper respiratory stuff that's going around.
I wonder if I have any bubble wrap...might be an interesting fashion choice for the rest of the week. Sweaty, but interesting.
©Michelle Scofield, January 8, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Planned Run: 3 miles
3.02 miles 34:54 10:54 pace
5:30 am 53 degrees
I snuck in my morning run between rain showers. Today and tomorrow are supposed to be thunderous. That's January in Houston. The forecast for Sunday morning? 30 percent chance of rain.
Tomorrow I've got a 4 mile run on my schedule, followed by 2 on Thursday. I'm thinking I may need to consider the stationary bike instead of that 4 miler. I'm don't want to take any chances on running in the blinding rain - at least not before I have to. If that's what the weather holds for Sunday, I'll do it.
I worked a couple consults with my boss yesterday. We saw someone on the 4th floor and next stop was floor 2. Instead of heading for the elevators, he went for the stairs. I was sooooooo careful walking those two flights down. I could just imagine me falling and breaking a leg after all these months. Kind of silly, really. I'm probably in the best physical condition I've been in for my entire adult life. Stairs shouldn't be an issue anymore.
I've been washing my hands like crazy and avoiding crowds. I'd be really pissed if I caught a cold or this upper respiratory stuff that's going around.
I wonder if I have any bubble wrap...might be an interesting fashion choice for the rest of the week. Sweaty, but interesting.
©Michelle Scofield, January 8, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Sunday, January 6, 2013
Countdown: One Week!
Days to Chevron Houston Marathon: 6
Planned Run: 8 miles
8:04 miles 1hour 32 minutes 11:27 pace
10:30 am 49 degrees
I'm glad I waited until today for my last longish run before next Sunday. The weather is perfect and I got a nice dose of sunshine. I think my mood would have turned toward the miserable and resentful if I was out there in the cold rain yesterday. Instead I felt happy and was able to exchange chipper greetings with other runners as we crossed paths this morning.
I love these days.
My right heel and ankle are slightly sore. I'm up to my mid calf in ice as I type. Good times!
I received my bib number and I'll be posting it to my Facebook page for those who are interested in following me electronically as I do this thing. Again, thanks for all the loving support. You're all the best. Each and every one of you! Love, love.
©Michelle Scofield, January 6, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Planned Run: 8 miles
8:04 miles 1hour 32 minutes 11:27 pace
10:30 am 49 degrees
I'm glad I waited until today for my last longish run before next Sunday. The weather is perfect and I got a nice dose of sunshine. I think my mood would have turned toward the miserable and resentful if I was out there in the cold rain yesterday. Instead I felt happy and was able to exchange chipper greetings with other runners as we crossed paths this morning.
I love these days.
My right heel and ankle are slightly sore. I'm up to my mid calf in ice as I type. Good times!
I received my bib number and I'll be posting it to my Facebook page for those who are interested in following me electronically as I do this thing. Again, thanks for all the loving support. You're all the best. Each and every one of you! Love, love.
©Michelle Scofield, January 6, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Friday, January 4, 2013
What Day IS This?
Days to Chevron Houston Marathon: 8
Planned Run: 3 miles
3.06 miles 35:23 11:34 pace
5:30 am 46 degrees
So I wrote "2012" maybe twice this week. I think that's pretty good considering I signed and dated about 14,000 charts. (Perhaps I exaggerate.) Otherwise I moved pretty smoothly into 2013.
Until this morning. I finished my run and before fixing breakfast, stopped at my closet to pull out my morning work attire. I'd need scrubs and sneakers. Another crazy clinic day. Thursdays KILL me. Huh. Wait a minute. I just did Thursday. Yesterday. Today is my catch-up day. I forgot about getting killed yesterday. Completely escaped me. How does one do that? I know it happened because I came home and decided to run this morning instead of last night...too danged tired. I put some chicken and artichoke hearts in the oven to bake. (Thanks to Brock and Regina for that yummy recipe.) I also put some cauliflower in the oven for a slow, sweet roast. While my dinner cooked, I changed into my PJs. Yes - I was dressed for bed by 6pm. I checked email, ate, watched Netflix, packed my lunch for today, and was almost comatose by 9pm.
I got Thursday killed.
No need to repeat it today.
Happy FRIDAY, Everyone!!! Hope you have a wonderful day. I'm going to go put on some Friday clothes and get ready for the weekend. M
©Michelle Scofield, January 4, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Planned Run: 3 miles
3.06 miles 35:23 11:34 pace
5:30 am 46 degrees
So I wrote "2012" maybe twice this week. I think that's pretty good considering I signed and dated about 14,000 charts. (Perhaps I exaggerate.) Otherwise I moved pretty smoothly into 2013.
Until this morning. I finished my run and before fixing breakfast, stopped at my closet to pull out my morning work attire. I'd need scrubs and sneakers. Another crazy clinic day. Thursdays KILL me. Huh. Wait a minute. I just did Thursday. Yesterday. Today is my catch-up day. I forgot about getting killed yesterday. Completely escaped me. How does one do that? I know it happened because I came home and decided to run this morning instead of last night...too danged tired. I put some chicken and artichoke hearts in the oven to bake. (Thanks to Brock and Regina for that yummy recipe.) I also put some cauliflower in the oven for a slow, sweet roast. While my dinner cooked, I changed into my PJs. Yes - I was dressed for bed by 6pm. I checked email, ate, watched Netflix, packed my lunch for today, and was almost comatose by 9pm.
I got Thursday killed.
No need to repeat it today.
Happy FRIDAY, Everyone!!! Hope you have a wonderful day. I'm going to go put on some Friday clothes and get ready for the weekend. M
©Michelle Scofield, January 4, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Mirror, Mirror
Days to Chevron Houston Marathon: 10
Planned Run: 4 miles
4.02 miles 45:38 11:21 pace
4:15 pm 43 degrees
Sometimes when I run, my feet aren't the only thing moving. My mind is, too.
Today:
-Gratitude for the depth to which the air can dive into my lungs when I open the space and allow it to clean out the old and bring in the new.
-Gratitude for feeling a door swing past a threshold of reluctance with only the slightest knock from me.
-Gratitude for having a mirror held in reflection of my own so that I didn't lose sight of myself while healing another.
-Gratitude for the opportunity to wake up tomorrow and do it all over again.
When I think about my career as a clinician, I live for the moments of contact that have nothing to do with laboratory values or breath sounds or wound care. I don't consider diagnosis or prognosis.
Today I am undeniably grateful for the opportunity to interact with my patients on a human level. It's just one of those days. Love, love.
©Michelle Scofield, January 2, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Planned Run: 4 miles
4.02 miles 45:38 11:21 pace
4:15 pm 43 degrees
Sometimes when I run, my feet aren't the only thing moving. My mind is, too.
Today:
-Gratitude for the depth to which the air can dive into my lungs when I open the space and allow it to clean out the old and bring in the new.
-Gratitude for feeling a door swing past a threshold of reluctance with only the slightest knock from me.
-Gratitude for having a mirror held in reflection of my own so that I didn't lose sight of myself while healing another.
-Gratitude for the opportunity to wake up tomorrow and do it all over again.
When I think about my career as a clinician, I live for the moments of contact that have nothing to do with laboratory values or breath sounds or wound care. I don't consider diagnosis or prognosis.
Today I am undeniably grateful for the opportunity to interact with my patients on a human level. It's just one of those days. Love, love.
©Michelle Scofield, January 2, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Free Association Run
Days to Chevron Houston Marathon: 11
Planned Run: 6 miles
6.05 miles 1 hours 7 minutes 11:09 pace
11:00 am 51 degrees. Still raining.
Follow along if you want.
I remember a yoga instructor who had us sit for half an hour once. It was maddening and, in hind-sight, enlightening. She told us to acknowledge any thoughts that arose and then use our mind's eye like the back of our hand to gently guide them away from us. "Just a push. A little nudge."
There weren't a lot of runners out today. Wait. I didn't see a single runner today. Only me. I mean, I saw my shoes. Where was everyone? The gym?
Were the gyms open today? Are they called gyms anymore? The one at work is called the "Fitness Center". I could go there tomorrow if it's too cold to be outside. I'm supposed to run 3 miles tomorrow. I don't really like to workout at work. I like to be away from work.
Nudge.
Pfffttt!!! 3 miles is nothing now. I can get up and do that before work. If it's cold, even better. Cold running improves my metabolism and mine could use some improving.
Gentle now. Back of hand.
I'd like to take up something that works my upper body. I'd love to have a heavy bag to hit here at home but I think it might somehow make a noise that would bother my neighbors below me. The ones I've had noise issues with.
Kindness.
I was up so late last night. My friend, Pam, and I called it a night at 12:30 but the party outside went on until about 4am. I need to move. This place isn't conducive to good sleep. My lease is up in July. It's close to work. Is this the life work I want for myself?
Gentle. Push.
Great. Another big dog. He's loose, with no owner is sight. He might be a friendly fellow or he might land me in hospital. I love dogs and since I started running I'm beginning to fear and curse them. This pisses me off. Turn around. Change route. Stop cursing the dog. He's behind me and he's just being a dog who happens to be owned by someone who doesn't know or care about my fear.
Maybe if I physically move my hand in front of my eyes and push these less-than-positive thoughts from my mind?
There's a guy in a car who sees me do this and he thinks I'm waving at him. He waves at me. That's funny.
Later on, another guy thinks it's funny to splash me by veering close and running through puddles.
Gentle now. Push. Back of hand.
I honestly hope both those guys have a safe drive today. I feel kinder and more loving to the one who waved at me than the one who soaked me with muddy water.
Maybe I'll sit for half an hour or so this afternoon. Couldn't hurt.
©Michelle Scofield, January 1, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Planned Run: 6 miles
6.05 miles 1 hours 7 minutes 11:09 pace
11:00 am 51 degrees. Still raining.
Follow along if you want.
I remember a yoga instructor who had us sit for half an hour once. It was maddening and, in hind-sight, enlightening. She told us to acknowledge any thoughts that arose and then use our mind's eye like the back of our hand to gently guide them away from us. "Just a push. A little nudge."
There weren't a lot of runners out today. Wait. I didn't see a single runner today. Only me. I mean, I saw my shoes. Where was everyone? The gym?
Were the gyms open today? Are they called gyms anymore? The one at work is called the "Fitness Center". I could go there tomorrow if it's too cold to be outside. I'm supposed to run 3 miles tomorrow. I don't really like to workout at work. I like to be away from work.
Nudge.
Pfffttt!!! 3 miles is nothing now. I can get up and do that before work. If it's cold, even better. Cold running improves my metabolism and mine could use some improving.
Gentle now. Back of hand.
I'd like to take up something that works my upper body. I'd love to have a heavy bag to hit here at home but I think it might somehow make a noise that would bother my neighbors below me. The ones I've had noise issues with.
Kindness.
I was up so late last night. My friend, Pam, and I called it a night at 12:30 but the party outside went on until about 4am. I need to move. This place isn't conducive to good sleep. My lease is up in July. It's close to work. Is this the life work I want for myself?
Gentle. Push.
Great. Another big dog. He's loose, with no owner is sight. He might be a friendly fellow or he might land me in hospital. I love dogs and since I started running I'm beginning to fear and curse them. This pisses me off. Turn around. Change route. Stop cursing the dog. He's behind me and he's just being a dog who happens to be owned by someone who doesn't know or care about my fear.
Maybe if I physically move my hand in front of my eyes and push these less-than-positive thoughts from my mind?
There's a guy in a car who sees me do this and he thinks I'm waving at him. He waves at me. That's funny.
Later on, another guy thinks it's funny to splash me by veering close and running through puddles.
Gentle now. Push. Back of hand.
I honestly hope both those guys have a safe drive today. I feel kinder and more loving to the one who waved at me than the one who soaked me with muddy water.
Maybe I'll sit for half an hour or so this afternoon. Couldn't hurt.
©Michelle Scofield, January 1, 2013 All Rights Reserved
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