Runner Crazy

Mike and I ran a 5K this morning and finished in 27:10.  Which averages us at a few seconds over a 9 minute mile, woot!  I ran it harder than I would have liked, but I think I did that because I knew it was only 3 miles.  That's the pace that I wanted to do my half at, but I also know I couldn't keep the pace I ran this morning up for 13.1 miles.  The day after my half I hurt.  Which I fully expected considering how much I had hurt right after the race.  But I realized when I woke up in the morning that I must block the hurting part out, because other wise I wouldn't keep doing these things!  And, another part of it is that I get the runner crazy now.

My sister ran her 2nd marathon on a slight stress fracture.  She went to a doctor who told her she couldn't do any more damage by running her marathon, and as long as she took 6 weeks off after the race she would be fine.  So she decided to run it anyway.  I thought she was nuts and asked her not to run.  But she ran it, took the time off to heal after, and completed 4 more after that. (That's 6 total. Yeah, 6.) 

I decided I'm going to do a marathon. (whether I do one fall '11 or spring '12 is still up in the air for the moment).  But I am going to do one, and before I'm 30.  I've been discussing my running schedule a bit with dr soc, and while he doesn't want me to do a marathon, he knows I'm going to do it anyway and will be my support staff day of.  I told him about Amy's stress fracture and her running anyway, which freaked him out, and he turned to me and said: "promise me you won't do that."

And I couldn't answer him.  Because I know now.  If the doctor told me I wouldn't do any more damage and said I was good to go, you bet your ass I would run.  I self diagnosed my shin splits and I still ran my 2 halves last year.  Shin splits are not a stress fracture so not even the same thing.  But I taped my legs, popped some pills and ran through the discomfort, because not running something I had been training for didn't even cross my mind.

The runner crazy is not something everyone gets.  But once you do...good luck ever getting rid of it!

Royal Dreams

I did not stay up or try to wake up early to watch the royal wedding.  But I did dvr the thing so I could watch all the hoopla and also to close the door on that particular princess dream.  By the time I woke up this morning, took the dog out and fed her, there was a new princess in England.  I stayed away from the interwebs because I didn't want to ruin the surprise for myself.  I settled onto the couch, a dog on each side, a coffee mug in one hand and the remote in the other.

Here is a summary of what I watched and some of my running commentary: 

• First hour and half: The Panthers selected Cam Newton.  And there were tornadoes in Alabama. ( I knew both last night).  English car.  The Panthers took Cam Newton!  Tornadoes in Alabama. Local weather. English person in a hat. The Panthers took Cam Newton! Local weather. Local traffic. Bad storms in the south. Cam Newton! English. Fun hat. Local news. Storms.  Yeah, hour and a half.
• Ok, finally, live coverage of the royals arriving.  Hats!   
• Man, the British do catty really well!  Maybe it's the accent.
• Oh the queen! She's wearing yellow.  I like yellow.  Dude, did the fashion guy just dis the yellow?  Uh, no, you can't be catty about the queen.
• Wow. It's really loud in Brittan!
• Hey, the Queen moves really well. 
• Should I be drinking coffee or tea?  Ehh, I'm not British. 
• queen gets a fanfare?! Awesomesauce.  Wait, of course she gets a fanfare. She's the queen (bitches). 
• Kate makes her appearance: Oh, pretty dress!  Bets are under or over: 15 foot train?
• Of course she's wearing a tiara!  You are marring a prince.  She had a lot of tiaras to choose from. Once again. Of course.
• Lovely is used a lot.
• Pippa. Damn! That is a fantastic dress!
• Agreed, very Grace Kelly.  Oh, from the House of McQueen. Nice. (Queen bitches. snicker) 
• Harry's epaulets are eating him.  Look out Harry, I'm coming for you.
• Why can't Wills look at her? Man, Mike better be looking at me when I walk down the aisle.  
• Awwww.  They look happy. 
• Singing. Crowd shot. Sir Elton! Queen, bitches. Cute British boys. And fast forward. 
• Who coughed during the hold his part?  Dude. 
• Yeah, traditional vows rock.
• More singing. That's a stupid hat, I don't care princess or not.
• Reading. More ffwd.
• What's the newsworthy part about her leaving out obey.  We knew this days before.  I'm not going to say obey?  Mike can though if he wants.
• Singing/reading. God I love my dvr.
• Only 8 minutes left. Boo, the dvr didn't the balcony kiss.  I would have if the first half wasn't Cam Newton.  God I hate local news.

First Round

Happy NFL draft day!  Ok, so I'm not as excited about that as say, dr soc is, but at least my Panthers have first pick! Wait. 

I don't really care about the draft at all.  But dr soc really really does.  He can't live without NFL football and since he's a long suffering Browns fan, his team usually has one of the first few picks in the draft.  This is their moment!  (Because I love my boyfriend I also cheer for the Browns now too.  I've already learned the most important phrase of being a Browns fan: there's always next year.)  So when I say he's excited, he's super excited.  You know how I took off running down the bubble of tulle path?  It's something like that for him, only with less squealing and no need for deposits.   

Anyway, he's cleaning up after dinner last night and talking all excited about draft day and I'm just uh-huhing like you do.  But he made some joke about how awesome it would be if he had the connections to select me in the draft as his wife.  Which, hell yeah!  I actually want that moment to be fairly private and really just between us (and maybe the dogs), but how freaking awesome would that be?  With the 6th pick of the nfl draft dr soc picks Sarah to be his wife.  Total awesomesauce. 

Because the ring hasn't come in yet and I know there are too many strings that have to be pulled for that to even be possible, it definitely got me thinking: I better be a first round pick!

Nomad No More

The other day I threw a small cardboard box into the recycling bin.  Why is this note worthy you may ask?  Because for a very long time, I never broke down a box or threw it away unless it was too damaged to be used again.  I've pretty much kept almost every single box I've ever received and still have the original packaging most of my stuff came in.

This mainly started in college.  I unpacked my new shiny dorm things from their original containers and then also kept the boxes my mom sent care packages in,  Yes, my roommates thought that was a little odd.  But when it was time to move out of our dorm room, guess who could pack all of her stuff and had a few left over to share?  Yep.   In my defense, at the time I was moving a lot.  I knew that every place I moved to, I would be moving out of in less than a year and would have to pack everything up all over again.  When I was on co-op, I moved every 3 months.  But why did I keep the original containers?  Because what better way to pack something than in a box specifically shaped for it?  Seriously! Ok, little ocd there too. 

So yeah, I keep boxes.  But I was getting tired of living a nomadic lifestyle.  Before I moved to Charlotte I counted how many times I moved, and realized this relocation would be number 20.  So I declared it my last move.  I would not be packing up all my worldly goods and shoving them into my protegee ever again (also, I had a new car at that point).  I don't need to collect or keep anymore boxes.  Old habits die hard, but dr soc is fearful I may be slightly a hoarder, so he pushed for me get rid of the packaging.  Eventually, recycling these things just came naturally.  So when I threw that small box in recycling bin without even thinking, I realized:

I am a nomad no more!

Not Long

I'm not "officially" engaged.  Official meaning the ring hasn't come in yet, so dr soc has not gotten down on one knee with it and asked me to make him the happiest man in the world by marrying him yet.  YET.  To some, the officialness of the status is just a semantic and the ring is a technicality.  We know we're getting married, we live together, the ring's on order, and the big thing is we're (ok, I'm) planning the wedding.  So why don't we consider ourselves engaged?  We just don't right now.  When he puts the ring on my finger is when we'll be engaged, and that's how we both see it.   

However, there's lots going on for someone who's not officially engaged.  I am no holds barred, unfettered, took off the down the bubble of tulle path without looking back planning our wedding.  We've set a date, set up appointments and meeting to look at things and vendors, priced caterers and djs, and my bubble of tulle spreadsheet (seriously, I named it that) is getting bigger and bigger as we speak.  All stuff I said I wouldn't do until I was engaged.

But we picked a popular date.  So if we want our choice of things and to stay within our budget, we need to be planning ahead.  I don't want to have to book an over priced whatever simply because that's all whose was available.  Plus, I have the time right now to pour over websites and read the fine print, and the squee momentum to keep me going.  Yeah I get balled up in the details sometimes and dr soc has to pull me back and refocus me (or say no to the 10 story ice sculpture (and the releasing of 2 doves symbolizing our love (what?)), but I love it.  Love, love, love it. 

The only small caveat about the officalness of my status and the wedding planning not lining up, is that now vendors are calling/emailing me, and some ask how long have we been engaged.  I'm not going to say, well, technically we're not yet, because then I have to explain the pragmatic plan in advance but not thinking of each other as a fiance yet.   And since they can't see me anyway, my answer is pretty simple.  "Not that long!"

Leave a Note!

The other day Mike went into the office earlier than usual.  Since I was sleeping pretty heavily he decided to not wake me up (a wise decision), but he didn't leave a note telling me that's what he had done (not a wise decision).  So when I wake up and get out of bed, he's nowhere to be found in the house and there's no note telling me where he is.  He had told me the night before what his plans were, but I was still pretty foggy in general since I had been sleeping so heavily.  Remembering something he mentioned the night before in passing didn't cross my mind as the obvious answer, so I start to worry a little bit. 

I look again for a note, but nada.  I debate calling his office to see if he's there, but just to be safe I call his cell because that's on his person.  If he doesn't answer that then I'll know to start worrying more.  But he answers, he's in his office and he's perfectly fine.  I do not let him off the phone though without a mild scolding telling him he needs to leave me a note other wise I don't know where he is, and I get confused and/or worry.  Which I swear is not co-dependent at all.

Well, last night we rented the movie a 127 hours. I watched most of it. I say most because **spoiler** the amputation scene was too realistic and graphic for me and I had to close my eyes.  But no one goes to look for Aron because no one knew where he was even going.  The end of the movie it's revealed that Aron still does his outdoorsy stuff, but now always leaves a note saying where he's going.  And while I know that neither Mike or I will ever be as extreme outdoorsy or as much as a loner as Aron was, I still turn to my boyfriend and say: "see how important it is to leave a note?"