The overeager, overachieving bus person had his hand on my salad bowl.
“Excuse me,” I said looking first at his hand and then to his face. “I’m not done yet.”
You want to freak somebody out….
that freaked out eager-beaver table cleaner.
Having time to kill in Athens, I decided to work and treat myself to lunch. I don’t do this ever for I am a good curb-excess-spending wife and mother.
And this guy was trying to take my salad.
Don’t come between a woman and her salad. One that is a treat she rarely enjoys. (Don’t come between me and any food actually.)
Clearly, I had hardly been here 30 minutes and though the restaurant was busy, no one was waiting for a table.
I was abiding by all the establishment’s login “thou shalts” as I understood them. And besides, this was a treat. He wanted me to rush through my ice cream sundae with sprinkles. (Well, my theoretical ice cream sundae.)
I figured an hour was fair enough for a ten dollar purchase.
The Beaver didn’t think so.
I’m bugging the poo out of him and he’s a little shaken. I see him as he furiously sweeps under the tables around me.
Close. But not too close.
It’s not fair that the woman across from me has sat there with her lunch companion — not eating, talking away — longer than I and he hasn’t reached for her bowl.
Clearly, my equal rights under the 14th Amendment as it applies to large franchise eateries with free WiFi had been violated.
No, there’s safety in numbers. The Beaver only looks for the lone pathetic woman (having a wonderful time) to try to hurry out the door.
He did until he found out this one bites.
Or gives a slightly threatening growl.
A grr.
He must have found some other patron to torment for haven’t seen him in a while.
Okay, time for me to go.
Pity.
Ever squat on a table? Either by yourself doing work or talking with friends?
If they were to make a movie of your life what would the soundtrack be like? Share 10 songs that best tell the story of your life.
So here it goes…
I am so trapped in vinyl.
1. Daydream Believer by the Monkees.
As a little girl, I lived in a dreamworld with tons of imaginary friends who I tried in vain to convince my mother committed all the mischief she pinned on me. The Homecoming Queen part never come true (though surely I must have dreamed that it did).
2. Daughters by John Mayer.
It was Mom, Dad, my sister and I. Dad was the dominant figure in our world. Maybe it was easy to live in daydreams when dad took care of everything. Yes, an estrogen-filled house run by dad. (Who was very dear.)
3. Breakaway by Kelly Clarkston.
What does a dreamer with a dominant dad do when she starts to wonder “What about My Dreams?” She head to Texas to school, decides to go by a different name and has the time of her life (until that point) at college.
4. Oh Atlanta by Alison Krauss.
After four years in college, I headed deeper into the Southland and spent the next few years of my life miserable at Emory Law School. Got my Juris Doctorate and boo-co loan payments. (Which my dear parents did pay most.) The absolutely best part of law school was the friendships I made. Love those folks. Especially one in particular.
5. Lawyers in Love by Jackson Browne.
One night at a law school party, innocently talking to Artie Handleman, we were rudely interrupted by a fellow who asked, “When are we getting married?”
The joke was sooo on him. Two and a half years later, we did.
6. Small Town by John Mellencamp.
After over a decade in Atlanta, we moved out to small town Georgia over a decade ago. You can breathe in a small town and people care in a small town. I could never go back to big city life again. (At least without a lot of kicking and screaming.)
7. Learning to Fly by Tom Petty.
Hit mid-life and looked around. Started to spread my wings. Or what non-daydreamers might call having a few mid-life crisis moments. Luckily, I flew more then I crashed. (Or maybe I just dreamed it that way?)
8. With a Little Help From My Friends by the Beatles.
Couldn’t have gotten through life without my friends. The number one being my husband.
9. Mr. Blue Sky by ELO.
Another mid-life revelation. If I am a dreamer — why not dream positive?
I committed to going through the second part of life half-full.
10. Still Crazy After All These Years by Paul Simon.
No one captures the human condition as a song writer like Paul Simon. But what do I know?
Finally, the best moment of cinema and song — and I guess if truthful, this kind of sums me up.
What about you? What is some of the soundtrack to your life?
5. Lawyers in Love by Jackson Brown. After for years in
Unless injured or gravely ill, I’ve run for exercise the last 28 years of my life.
If you are new to running or a long time runner who wants to see that all runners’ neurosis are the same, you might want to follow along. (I mean normal runners. Not a gifted gazelle from another planet’s gene pool.)
Since I blog daily and Saturday’s find me out on a training run, it occurred to me that each Saturday for a bit, I’m going to share what I have learned over the last 28 years. I maybe not a certified expert — but I have street cred.
* * *
I’m training for the Disney Princess Half end of February and the ZOOMA Half at Lake Lanier on April 22.
Today I was to run 10 miles.
The first point ‘ll cover this in post is the most critical — other than finding a training plan and sticking to it — to getting your required asphalt time in.
DO IT EARLY.
Here’s the painful part.
Get out of bed before light — usually in the cold. Early enough to have a spot of coffee, stretch and go. I’m like a turtle poking around in the morning, so if I want to be out the door by 7 a.m., I need to be out of bed by 6.
Fighter fighter would not be the profession for me.
If you have a family, early translates…BEFORE CHILDREN STIR.
Made that mistake this morning. Once their up, it’s soooo hard to make it out the door.
But thank goodness my Prince said he would take his hungry fiefdom to Waffle House.
Some helpful things I do to help get my rear in gear and out the door early.
* Remember to set alarm. (This really helps.)
* Lay clothes out. Look at weather the night before and plan your athletic wear accordingly.
* Coffee pot already to turn on.
* Get out of bed when the alarm sounds. (This is where I had critical mass failure today.)
* Have a running buddy. Knowing Kim is pulling her van up in your driveway helps to get the most protesting bod vertical.
* Lace up and get moving.
And once you do — it’s great. It was this morning. A quarter mile into the run, it was so beautiful, I was questioning why, oh why is it hard to get out the door?
Ten miles done.
What about you? When do you get those long runs in?
I’m the only women in America who has never seen any of the Twilight movies.
My daughter has. Because her father watched them with her.
She is having a birthday this weekend and today was the day take cupcakes to school.
Poor Guy. He sat waiting patiently under wraps to be eaten.
Yes, she is Team Jacob.
Like everyone else on the planet.
If I had to choose, I would choose Team Edward.
No, I’d chose Team Edward-with-a-Tan. Surely, vampires could withstand a spray-tanning if they can hang out on cloudy days. (Which is a totally bogus rule I think. I chose to be a purist in matters I know nothing about like vampires.)
Kids really watch you when you have a tray of cupcakes. Boys even don’t say anything about eating a Jacob cake.
When asked why she likes Jacob my daughter’s reply, “Because he’s cute.”
FYI. I ordered half chocolate Jacobs and half vanilla. The chocolate RULED. The only child who wanted one was Colin Sitzmann and after I got so excited to give away a vanilla Jacob, my daughter told me he was not in her class.
Rule Number 2345 of taking cupcakes to school: CHILD’S CLASS ONLY. I made this mistake once with my oldest son and was sentence to three afternoons study hall.
My daughter had only one request.
Leave his face for me.
Done.
The Jacob-in-Frosting is growing on me but think I’ll stick with Edward-with-a-Tan.
Andy is a huge Alabama fan and the last time I swam in the afternoon was the day of National Championship game.
“Congratulations,” I said. For in the South we congratulate people if “their” team wins as if they were in uniform on the field throwing the ball around.
Then I had a bit of panic.
Did Alabama win? They did win didn’t they?
I couldn’t for the life of me remember if they indeed won.
“Yes, they did,” Andrew replied. “Quite handily.”
That’s why I was at the pool. If I needed to dunk my head in water to clear the fog — I might as well get some exercise.
I got in my lane and did my workout.
The older guy to my left was smoking fast (for an older guy.) Then to my great relief I saw he was wearing huge scuba-type fins.
There were two older women to my right. They exercised up and down the lane.
I’m not by any means an extroverted swimmer, but if I’m kicking with the board and make eye contact with another pool participant, I only think it civil to smile, nod, or give some recognition that they are another human.
I swam and tried to enjoy it. Tried to squash thoughts how my shoulders will never rotate like they should on the backstroke and how my chest never seems to pop out of the water like the aqua queens.
I got done and went to the locker room.
While getting dressed, I heard the two older women come in.
And one remarked to the other, “That was Marveloouusss.” The word went on for about 10 syllables and was as rich, deep and melodic as a banana split on a July evening.
Her marvelous resonated over and over in my head. I wish I had it recorded.
I’d play it and swim in it.
She didn’t look like she was haven’t all that much more fantastical fun than me. Heck, even pokey me lapped her constantly. (Yes, I live to lap octogenarians at the Aquatics Center.)
She rode in with a no-funny-business attitude and a sleeve-full of quarters.
I’m taking back my children’s rooms. I’m taking back 15 whole minutes of our morning rush out the door.
How you say?
Yes, for the cost of a gallon of gas 50 years ago, I am going to gain control over my mornings.
Here’s the deal. I give them .25 cents if they make their beds and straighten their room.
They can earn another silver George Washington if they are dressed (including shoes — won’t press for socks), have book bag on shoulder and are ready to head out the door at 7:50 a.m.
A vast improvement over the 8:02 a.m, 8:05 a.m. we’ve drifted down to (or is it up to) lately.
Here’s the best part about the Quarter Bribe for an On Time Ride game,
All manner of ugly talk and bodily functions to-gross-out-other-captives-of-enclosed-car are reasons for mom deciding to take a quarter earned that morning — back.
Woo. I already feel more powerful.
It works. I’ve done this before.
I’m so ready for a game of Quarters.
In more ways than one.
How do you bribe your children? Come on. I know you do.
Setting goals (like New Year’s resolutions) gives me a desired target to aim for….and the feeling of accomplishment when I meet the challenge.
Everyone came into this world wired-differently, but it seems like a pretty common resolution (the voracious blog reader that I am) was to put more emphasis on good health and fitness in 2012.
And if you are within a drive of Atlanta have I got a great challenge for you.
If you’ve always desired to train and run that first race — ZOOMA gives you everything you need.
The ZOOMA Women’s Race Series has been around since 2007. This year they will hold races in destination locations including: Austin, Texas, Annapolis, Cape Cod, the Great Lakes and ATL-GA.
Brae Blackley the ZOOMA series founder, is a mom of young children. She gave up a high-powered corporate law practice to pursue her passion of inspiring women to live healthy, active lives and have FUN in the process.
As a gal that’s been around the 13.1 block a few times, so many things impress me about ZOOMA.
* The races are smaller with limits on registrations.
* They select running Ambassadors in each location who devote their time to spreading the good word about ZOOMA, encouraging registrants of all levels and leading weekly training runs.
* Access to advance copy on training for Half and 5K distances from Train Like a Mother, the upcoming book from Sarah Bowen Shea and Dimity McDowell authors of Run Like a Mother.
* They encourage runners to come out early to the expo and spend the night at the great resort before the race. Relaxing with friends enjoying their accommodations.
* Did I mention the After Race Party with great venue by the lake, music, your friends and Barefoot Wine & Bubbly? Can you say FUN?
There is nothing like crossing the finish line. You should feel proud!
I’d be happy to discuss more of the details about the race with you. Just leave a comment and I’ll e-mail back.
Come out to the Big Atlanta Kick Off Party, this Saturday morning, January 28 from 8:30 to 11. The event at the Big Peach Running Company on Peachtree Road in Buckhead — will have lots of info, swag and you can meet some of the Atlanta race Ambassadors. And look for some thing cute to train in.
When you sign-up for the race online be sure to use the Discount Code: ATLCON3. You’ll save $10 of the Half registration and $5 on the 5K.
So come-on girlfriends, get your running shoes on.
Once again I surfed over to Stasha’s blog The Good Life to link up with Monday Listicles.
Because I am FABULOUS at making lists. They are on 3 x 5 cards littered all over my house — ask Diana Blanton, she will nod affirmative.
Implementing them is the problem.
That’s why this Monday’s list is perfect for me.
“10 things you’d like to see happen before you die”
Like any of these things are EVER going to happen, but I shall list away. Because I got an A+ in IB List Making at Winter Park High.
1. Me wearing bonnet, holding mint julep (holding onto the handrail for they are dreadfully strong drinks) standing in the grandstands at Churchill Downs cheering my thoroughbred (bought with earnings won buy me at a poker game) win the Kentucky Derby by 10 lengths. Okay, I’d just settle for making Churchhill Downs the first Saturday in May before I die.
2. Me learn to play poker. (See Number 1.)
3. The Eiffel Tower. Or be able to spell the word Eiffel without having to open another tab to look it up.
4. Run the marathon at Big Sur.
5. A brand spankin’ new right knee. (See Number 4.)
6. Me performing a stand-up routine in front of an live audience. Because I am getting tired trying out jokes in front of my daughter’s stuffed animals. They are cute, but just politely stare. (Except the Angry Birds. They give me attitude.)
The thought terrifies me but I think my list should include something scary and parachuting is so out of the question even for a pipe dream list like this.
7. The United States of America debt free.
8. Still laughing at Number 7. How about me debt free?
9. All my children finding their passion in life and being able to support themselves and life with someone they are wildly in love with. (And still remember to throw a couple bones my way when I need a knee replacement.)
Good grief. Has it been that long? I immediately suppress thoughts of “dog’s dead” scenarios and vow to make an appointment Monday.
I really want a new doctor.
I must get the house under control tomorrow.
Daughter hasn’t practiced piano once all week — for fourth week in a row. And I had done so well, rehabilitating myself as a somewhat competent piano mom in the eyes of her teacher.
Where are my children? Let’s see. One is spending the night out, one is in her bed, the other is on the couch where he fell asleep last night.
I start to pick them off one by one — praying for them.
Finally, I pick up my phone to see what time it is.
3:40 a.m.
Read a few emails, respond to a few emails.
This all goes through my head lying awake in bed.
Then I hear rain.
Ugh. I’ve got to be up and out of bed for the 10.2K (yes, 10.2) in the morning.
Finally, I pop an herbal sleep aid lozenge on my tongue and guess I go back to ZZZZZ.
* * *
I leave my house about 8 a.m., no rain.
Get to race.
Rain.
But in the mercy of the good Lord, it is fairly warm and I dressed in layers.
Because my hormonally-challenged bod goes from cold to “I’VE GOT TO RIP ALL THESE CLOTHES OFF” in like nanoseconds.
It was a good race. Lots of rain.
Toward the end I passed two men, younger than me. We exchanged pleasantries.
Or so I thought.
They were talking so loud that I could tell where they were behind me.
When we passed Mile Marker 6, one of them learns from his friend that this race is a 10.2 K.
“That’s another quarter mile. I’d rather crumple and die here than run another quarter mile,” the one says to the other.
But rather than crumpling into a heap, those chatty bast*rds passed me on the last hill.
(Not fair. They made me laugh weakening my body’s ability to stay ahead of their younger men-selves.)
But looky, looky.
I love small races.
What about you? What about small races in the rain?
