#teamsparkle

I’m so behind in my blog posts, you guys. I was honored to be featured on Sparkle Athletic's blog in January. I know. Here it is, mid-March and I’m just now telling you all about it.

If you’re not familiar with Team Sparkle, they are as awesome as they sound. Sparkle Athletic was founded by three friends in 2010. A few years after their company was established, I ran the Warrior Dash with my daughter and a group of friends. We established a team of runners, some of whom were friends of friends. That's the beauty of running: you make connections with people that you might not have met otherwise.

One of those friends was a woman we met at the race with her now-husband then-boyfriend and their dog Frank. I obviously liked Brenna right from the start: anyone who has a dog sidekick named ‘Frank’ that also happens to be a Labrador has to be amazing, right?? Brenna had a bunch of ‘dress up’ stuff for us to wear: glitter skirts, striped sleeves and visors. I asked her where she had gotten the loot, and she casually explained her aunt Kelly owned a company that sold athletic wear.

This certainly wasn’t like any athletic wear I had seen before. I still own the skirt and sleeves Brenna give me that day, and I have worn my black and silver sparkle skirt to races several times over.

Believe it or not, I was actually able to salvage my
#teamsparkle outfit. I have laundry skillz, y'all.

Holy crap, were we ever muddy. Good times! I count my lucky stars we didn’t get hepatitis.

Anyway! It was an incredible honor to be a featured runner on their site. Many thanks to one of my favorite social media runners Carlee McDot for reaching out to me and making this happen.

#runalways

I was thrilled to be a featured on the  #RunAlways Instagram account in January. Like the name implies, it's an account designed to inspire and connect the global running community.

 

A RUNNING STORY ------------------------------------------ I am an addict/alcoholic. Running is a huge part of my recovery and it has turned into a form of meditation; my head is quiet when my body is moving. . I was 35 years old when I began running. It started out of necessity because my son wouldn't stay in childcare at the gym. I ran 3-4 days a week pushing a baby jogger, but it took a full year before it was something I looked forward to doing. . I had heard you could get high from running. At age 38, I decided to run my first full marathon. It was one of the most incredible experiences of my life. I ran my second full marathon on my 40th birthday. . Two weeks afterward, my entire right arm went numb during a run. I thought I was having a stroke or heart attack, until I realized the sensation stopped immediately when I began walking. I was diagnosed with bulging discs in my neck. My doctor said I had to stop running. . Against his advice, I slowly began running again. I made some corrections to my form and gave up road cycling. Three years after my injury, I ran my fastest half marathon and finished the course with a PR of 2:05. My glory was short-lived. During the race I felt a small tug on the back of my leg, but I had so much adrenaline onboard that I was able to shake it off and finish strong. . I tried running a few days later - the tug had become a sharp pain at the top of my right hamstring. I was diagnosed with bursitis. Despite seeing my chiropractor weekly, it took nearly four months of no running for the injury to heal. This coincided with some thyroid issues and I quickly gained 25 pounds. . Over the last 5 years, my relationship with running has changed and so have my expectations. Last November, I ran the same event, only to finish one hour and forty-five minutes slower than my PR. It was enormously humbling. . Running is a fickle thing. Injury has taught me to be resilient, and it is a part of my success as a runner. I always surprise myself when I persevere. - Featured Runner: Brea McInnes @babydoll_brea / California ~ It's not just about inspiring pictures, it's also about inspiring stories. _ Tell us yours: run-culture@run-always

A post shared by Run Always (@run.always) on Jan 23, 2017 at 4:31pm PST

The account is run (no pun intended) by several administrators, one of whom goes by the pseudonym Runnermarx. I discovered his account years ago, and he now has over 6.5K followers. Mark is a lifelong runner with a true passion for the sport. He's a great guy: outgoing, smart and incredibly knowledgeable. And yeah, it doesn't hurt that he starred in a beer commercial that aired during Superbowl halftime. Just sayin'. 

Anyway! It was an honor to be chosen to share my running story. Check it out and let me know what you think. 

5lbs Of Sugar In A 1lb Sack

If you have a generous bust like me, then you know my beef with sports bras in general. The best ones cost a fortune...but regardless of the cost, I always somehow feel like I'm wearing a bullet-proof vest. In desperate times, I have on more than one occasion worn two sports bras. I refer to this as 'double bagging'. I don't recommend it just for the chafe factor alone. 

It's inevitable; it's time to do laundry and I'm down to my last clean sports bra. It's the one that every time I wear it, I swear to myself, "Never again! I am NEVER wearing this again."

But then I get desperate, and I think that this time it will be different. See, the bra goes on fine...but taking off the sports bra? That does not. The last time I wore it, I got stuck trying to get it off. I nearly had to cut the damn thing off my body. 

You literally have no idea. Or maybe you do.

Jah feel? If you don't, you can just play along and pretend you do. #thestruggleisreal

Comfort Zone

I'm not really sure how it played out this way, but in the last week I did two things that were completely out of character for me, plus one thing that is completely reckless.

First, I held a scorpion:

My face says it all.

Yes, it's real. I asked if the scorpion was a 'stingless' variety. (It's not.) I asked if the sting hurt, you know...kind of like a bee sting? (The sting is similar to a bee's sting, except x50.) I was reassured to learn that the scorpion sting was unlike the bite of the brown recluse spider. (The flesh doesn't rot.) I still don't know what possessed me to hold this critter...but I have photographic proof of my momentary lapse of good judgement.

Second, I went stand-up paddle boarding for the first time:

The paddle board rental company is called 'Sup'.
I assume this is short for 'What's up?'

Success! The former headbanger in me often confuses
with 'metal' hands for 'aloha' hands. \m/ \m/ 

There was some concern about a large swell coming in, which made getting out and coming back in more challenging. The rental guy told us that he didn't really recommend it for newbies, but it was our call. I decided that since I had psyched myself to drive down there and give it a try, that I'd better just go for it.

There is a reason this girl doesn't do triathlons anymore; I am terrified of the open water. I enjoy the beach, but I'm much more comfortable playing in the surf than I am going out into deeper water. It was almost better to have a sense of urgency; we were instructed to get into the water and out past the waves as quickly as possible. I was in the water and on the board paddling on before I had a chance to even think. I was so hyper-focused on getting past the waves, I didn't even notice if the water was cold or not. 

My friend Jessani told me, 'You're so athletic, you'll catch on really fast!' Her vote of confidence was very sweet, but I was convinced I would fall right away. My legs were shaking from the adrenaline and trying to keep my balance. I was definitely out of my comfort zone, and it took me a good 20 minutes to settle into some sort of a rhythm. Paddle boarding was one of the hardest things I've done in a long time, but I can't wait to do it again!

And the last thing: Are you ready for the completely reckless and unexpected?

I'm going to Hello Kitty Con in November:

Amy Poehler font: Yeah, that's right. I'm 46-years old
and I'm going to Hello Kitty Con. Jealous?? 

Day 16

For each day of November, I am going to post an excerpt of the novel I'm working on for the next 30 days through National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). The goal is to reach 50,000 words in 30 days. And, go!

None of my friends played sports – except maybe some of the more athletic boys in my grade. Regardless of what we were playing at school in PE, I would move to avoid contact with the ball. I never understood all the fuss over organized sports. I could never work up enough enthusiasm to chase a ball around. We had been playing baseball and I didn't know the rule of touching home plate when coming in for a home run, so I ran in that general area and then back behind the fence.

One of the boys ran around the fence and tagged me with the ball while he screamed in my face, “YOU DIDN'T TOUCH HOME PLATE!” Seriously? It was so stupid that I just shrugged. 

Day 8

For each day of November, I am going to post an excerpt of the novel I'm working on for the next 30 days through National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). The goal is to reach 50,000 words in 30 days. And, go!

The PE teacher called me out during attendance for wearing a dirty sweatshirt. She asked me, "Is that a favorite, honey? You won't let Mom wash it?" The sleeves of my sweatshirt were grey with dirt, but I looked at her like she was crazy. My sweatshirt was dirty because we didn't own a washer or dryer and I couldn't be bothered to wash it.  

I imagined the other kid’s moms standing in their big backyards and pinning the wet sheets to the clothesline - while my mom was likely asleep. The act of collecting enough coins, hauling all our clothes to the laundry mat and losing a whole afternoon at the Wash 'n Fun made the task seem insurmountable. The way I looked at it, I was lucky to wear clean underwear daily. A dirty sweatshirt was the least of my worries.

We were required to run the mile weekly. Generally I was in the middle of the pack of girls, but on one day something just clicked. Coming around the final lap, I had managed to stay with the lead runners. My legs burned and my lungs were on fire - but as I rounded the corner for the final 20 feet, it occurred to me that run would be my personal best. I was thinking that the PE teacher would see my time and realize that underneath my dirty clothes, I someone special. And that’s when I tripped.

I fell hard. I scraped my knees and the palms of my hands and managed to chip my front tooth – but the worst part was that I got one of my infamous bloody noses. There was so much blood that it was hard to tell where it was coming from. I had knocked the wind out of myself, which in itself was excruciating – but nothing was as bad as being the center of attention.  I just wanted to crawl away and hide. One of my friends was the nurse’s aide for that period and she ran behind the school nurse, pushing a wheelchair. The nurse wheeled me back to her office, while my friend Julie trotted alongside and held my hand.

After the nurse cleaned me up, she called my mom and told her what happened. My mom told her she’d be down to pick me up in within a half hour. I waited on one of the cots for my mom to come. When Julie came in to check on me, I tried to thank her for being so nice – but when I opened my mouth to say something, my voice caught and some weird noise came out instead. I started to cry. It was so awkward that she just quietly backed out of the room.