Me in Place

Ed. Note: I full understand the irony in posting what I’m about to post after the previous one on Chocolate Sandwiches. Trust me. I get it.

About two months ago, I signed up to be a House Party host. If chosen, you received the new Jenny McCarthy Your Shape Wii game and free Jell-O Mousse Temptations – but you had to promise to host a  “fitness” party and do a blog post, etc about the game. I was one of 3,000 hosts chosen to host my party on January 9th. When I saw that email, I thought two things: “Ooh, goody, a free game!” and “Mr MIP and all close relatives o’ mine are fer shure making fun of me for this one!”

I figured I needed to add something a little more interesting than just watching a Wii game while eating diet Jell-O pudding  (although both are good!)- so I asked our friend, Dave – who owns his own gym and is a personal trainer – to come speak to us about diet and exercise and he graciously agreed.  Dave spoke for about an hour and gave so much good information about exercise and nutrition – I cannot thank him ENOUGH. I wish I could write out everything for you here – but, lucky for you, Dave is available for you too! If you need a trainer, are interested in metabolic testing,  or just want to have a consult, Dave’s your guy. Here is the LINK to his business, Integrated Fitness.  (Dave the Trainer, I’m sure,  does not endorse my chocolate sandwich genius idea.)

And, for those who asked, there are other House Party opportunities – check their site out HERE.

(And, can I just say that Dave the Trainer plays electric guitar and Mr MIP plays electric guitar and when the two of them  – along with a couple others – totally rocked when they played Trans-Siberian Orchestra’s “Christmas Eve/Sarajevo 12/24″ this Christmas season?? )

I’ll post a review on the game itself tomorrow!

How was your Thanksgiving? Ours was fine. Nine kids ages ten and under are in the family right now – you kinda have to escape to the TV room for a while if you’re going to make it!

The morning started bright and early with my brother and I doing our (now) tradition of running a 5K Turkey Trot. Seeing as how it was 36 degrees (but thankfully not raining when the race started), I was just pleased to finish (but not necessarily pleased with my time). I am definitely an indoor cat, so the cold is always a shocker to my system. But all’s well that ends well. The conversation at the end is now also a tradition. Bro. Jeff finishes first and comes back to the three mile marker where there’s .1 miles to go – you’d think .1 miles to go would be an encouraging thing, but not necessarily. Bro. Jeff jogs alongside me and says, “C’mon, Kelli, c’mon.” I say, “But I’m going to throw up.” He says, “No you’re not. Keep going.” I say, “I’m gonna throw up.” He says, “Keep your head up and look at the finish line, not the ground. Don’t look at the ground.”

Who knew a brother could actually be an encouragement?

A few days ago, I celebrated my first year anniversary of my relationship with the Gym. I celebrated by having a piece of Portillo’s chocolate cake.

I’ve done a thoroughly scientific research project on the elliptical machine in my approximately forty hours I’ve spent on that stupid machine and I thought you might want to know my findings. The elliptical gives you a reading of the calories you’ve burned. Now, whether that reading is right or not is the question. But since I was always using the same elliptical, I compared my calories burned on the same machine, therefore, my science project is totally and completely valid.

In a half hour, I burned:

180 calories watching Food Network, but 270 calories watching Man Vs Food (the one where he eats those huge plates of food…disgusting and strangely motivating).

140 calories listening to Seth Godin (Marketing Guru) read his book, “Tribes” (great book, btw), but 230 calories watching the marketing of bedding sets on QVC.

230 calories watching the Cubs implode vs. 380 calories watching any football game. I don’t even care who’s playing, watching football is always better than watching slow baseball.

210 calories listening to Michael Buble sing his little soul out to me vs. 400 calories listening to my workout playlist which includes:

Skillet – Hero
Linkin Park – New Divide
Bruce Hornsby & the Noisemakers – Spider Fingers/Tempus Fugit
Beyonce – Single Ladies (Yeah, I said it…)
Michael Franti – Hey Now (I Love You)
U2 – Magnificent

What’s my lesson and truth to you? Don’t watch Food Network. Let Michael sing to your soul in your car. Skip the stupid Cubs, watch those cute football players and listen to loud music.

You’ll burn off that evil Portillo’s before you know it.

#21 on Jeff’s 25 Things Everyone Should Experience in Northern Wisconsin included a photo with the Rhinelander Hodag. (We accomplished a couple of the items on the list over the weekend – I’ll post photos for proof):

Today was my very first Long Run of my life. Friend PH told me anything 5 miles and over counts as Long. I thought it was anything over .75 miles is Long, but whatever, I’m just showing up to the game, it’s not me that makes the rules.

I knew the guilt wouldn’t leave me alone until I got the 5 miles done, so I got on the treadmill at the crack of 9 a.m. And started away. Now, again, let me say I have never ever run that far in all my life on purpose. Or even accidentally. Oh, except this one time last summer, SuperBoy turned into Naughtiest Boy Ever at the park in Minocqua, Wisconsin where friends Craig and Tiffany first declared their love for each other. Well, trust me, declaring your love for one another has the eventual potential to turning into a three-year-old who won’t come when called. “Get over here now!” I semi-yelled so as not to interrupt the other happy families. He took off running. Ran to the top of a slide structure and said, “I won’t! No! Stupid!” Well! I never! I was so mad by this time, but really there’s so little you feel you can do when the entire little group of children stops in their tracks and stares at you like, “What is she going to do now??” They all stared at me. I grinned at them to show that I really was nice and then turned to SuperBoy with my super mad mommy look… which did nothing to stop him. He took off running again. A little boy, about 8 years old, came up to me and said, very seriously and very kindly, “I can get him if you want me to.” I told him “sure.” So the boy takes off running after SuperBoy and, I kid you not, lays SuperBoy flat on the ground with the nicest, gentlest full body tackle I’ve ever seen. I thanked him and carried away SuperBoy for a long talk with me. (The boy’s mom saw what happened and was so apologetic, I just said, “No, no, he was helping me. I told him he could do it.” Which probably sounded weird.)

Anyway, all that to say, that’s probably the last time I’ve run very far at all. But I want you to know I made it. All glorious 5 miles. I have learned that I run much faster if I run to music. So I played all my favorite fast songs, including my new motivational favorites from “Running to Cadence with the Marine Corps.”

Pain…in my back.
Pain! In my back!

Pain… in my legs.
Pain! In my legs!

That’s okay!
That’s okay!

We’ll run it out.
We’ll run it out!

We’ve got the fever! We’re hot! We can’t be stopped!
We’ve got the fever! We’re hot! We can’t be stopped!

Okay, well, don’t tell the Drill Instructor, but that might be the line I’m kinda lying on when I shout it, because clearly, I could be stopped and would actually welcome the stopping.  And it’s when I stopped that I felt the “runner’s high” everyone talks about. There’s nothing like the high that comes when you get to put your checkmark next to the “5 miles” on the training schedule.

There’s an article out there today about a man who is attempting to be the oldest marathon finisher ever at the age of 101. You can read about him here.

So I was thinking that maybe I needed a cause… a story… a reason.

Girl, thirty-something, attempts to be the slowest half-marathon finisher ever. Kelli W credits her slowness to an obsession for the seasonal Robin’s Eggs candy and a penchant for mochas. She says she’s running the half-marathon to prove that she’s not too busy in her life and that one can always find time to do what one wants to do. In order to prove that point Kelli tells us “the slower I go, the longer it takes – just proving my point further. You can enjoy Robin’s Eggs and be a slow runner.” And she figures the longer she takes doing her miles, the longer other people have to watch her children for her. She is promising that whatever monies she raises will be donated to the cause of Her Children, ages 4, 5 and 8, who need new sandals for the coming summer. 

The funniest thing I heard all week: I was a helper in my 5yo daughter’s ballet class this week. Which meant I took attendance and helped watch the kids and held on to SuperBoy and tried to keep him entertained for an hour – it did not mean I was doing a plie or entendre or whatever they are. Anyway, I’m watching as the little girls do their stretches, and the teacher says, “Okay, now side splits.” My 5yo leans over and (fully aware her mother is watching) goes down as low as she can, letting out a couple “owie! owie!” comments. The teacher says calmly, “Suffer quietly.” The same thing happened a few minutes later as they stretched over to make the pretend cookie dough. 5yo lets out a “owie!” and the teacher responds, “We suffer quietly.” I seriously had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing out loud.

We’ve instantly adapted that phrase into our parenting. It’s a fun response to the whining done around here. “But I don’t LIKE corn.” “We suffer quietly.”

When I did my 4 miles today – I kept laughing to myself and the internal complaining I do. “Man, I’ve only gone a mile? Wish I was done. Ow. My knee. Ow. My other knee. Booooorrrrring.” “Suffer quietly.” 

I think it would be easier to suffer quietly if there was a big piece of chocolate cake in my mouth.

Yo, whassup? Today the Cubs played and won! And my dear, dear replacement buddy, Mark deRosa (or Marky D as I refer to him, cause we’re such good friends) had his surgery and is okay. Bro Jeff says I should never cheer for any one particular player – when I do, they immediately get injured or traded. Todd Walker being my old fave whom I still miss dearly. But Marky D replaced him and now look what happens. Anyway, in all seriousness, it is a reminder that baseball is “just a game” and he and his wife are in my prayers as he recovers! Although Bro Jeff says my prayers never do anyone much good either. Hm.

Anyway, the Cubs won! I wore my Cubs sweatshirt in honor of them and listened to the entire game.

Other updates:

Reading: John Grisham’s latest: The Appeal. So far it hasn’t had much action…hope it picks up soon.

SuperBoy: Ran and jumped on me tonight and surprised me… I responded with an “ouch!” he said, “what? I just like you!!” Aw, melted my little heart.

Half-Marathon Training: Going good. Three miles today. Get super irritated when I read things on blogs or magazines like, “Went out and did a quick 8 miles this morning…” “Only did 8 minute miles today… not so good. Will have to push tomorrow for a 5:30.”
One step at a time, baby, one step at a time. My reports look more like: “Took me until 8 pm to do my run. Only did it because of the immense sense of failure I felt creeping up on me if I went to bed without doing it. Didn’t go very fast due to chicken and rice dinner. Kept thinking of chocolate cake the whole time. Hope to hit a 12 minute mile tomorrow.”

But, you know, I figure I can be an encouragement by being the last person across the line at the half-marathon. I mean, who wants to be last? I’ll take on the burden of that, no biggie.

This last week has been a haze. Don’t know why. Just happens after the holidays. It allows me to use one of my favorite words, though. That word is “ennui.” It’s a French word pronounced “On-wee.” Try saying it. No, no, like you’re French. “On – wee.” A little up at the end. It means a general sense of apathy/lethargy. My view of the week is best summed up in portions of emails I sent to my brother. Join me on this retrospective look at Kelli’s Holiday Ennui As Expressed In Emails to Bro. Jeff:

Dec 31: Sleeping in late and reading a lot and doing stuff around the house. Friday we went out with Stephanie and Joel and mom watched Carter. We went to this awesome Mexican restaurant that is kinda dark and the food… Wow, the food. Went to Borders. Saturday not much. Sunday not much. Really not much. It’s been nice.

Jan 1: Happy New Year to you and yours! Did you make goals? I didn’t yet. I am going to tonight, hopefully.  (Ed. Note: I still haven’t made any!!)

Jan 2 Part 1: I am making clam chowder for lunch. It’s been a long time since I’ve had it. But it’s very cold out and I need it. I also am fighting a headache. And no, the headache’s name is not Carter.
Jan 2 Part 2: I just thought you should know that, in accordance with our inherited traits, I am currently moving furniture to bring in the New Year.

Jan 3: I successfully held school today. Successfully is not really the right word, but that’s what the internet is for: for hyperbole and overstating what we’re really like.

I just finally decided I would get back in the real life game and pulled out my calendar. I ignored it for the Christmas holiday. It was nice. I hate obligations.

Ah, yes. Life is good. Au revoir, my good man.
Jan 3 Part 2: I have a general overwhelming blanket of ennui over me this week. Still struggling with it. But I will survive, I will survive, As long as I know how to love, I know I’ll stay alive, I’ve got all my life to live, I’ve got all my love to give, I will survive (Hey hey) I will survivvvvveeee!

Jan  4: Okay. I just took a shower to try to get the ennui off.

Jan 4 Part 2: Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling youuuuuuu (Ed. Note: Lyrics from “Silent Running” by Mike & the Mechanics)

Jan 4 Part 3: FYI: If you go to Hal’s site you’ll see some white words  that say “Select Your Training” – (It is under the orange banner on the page)… Then scroll to your race, marathon, half, winter, etc and it comes up with a plan that you can print out.
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Did you see that? Did you see how it transpired from watching way too many episodes of “Good Eats” to the end where I’m ready to sign up for my first half-marathon! We’re discussing doing one in May. Bro Jeff is going to attempt the full marathon and I’ll be doing the half. Woot woot! Bring it on! I’ll be bringing you updates throughout the weeks on the blog. Mainly because I probably will feel more ennui at some point and I’ll need your support!

This weekend was my very first 5K! And while I did manage to finish it, I did not finish it well. But, as with most things in life, you have to block bad; filter good. Let me try to set up the scene for you:

My friend, she of the Perfect Hair, came with me and we decided to make an Event of it and stayed overnight in the Hyatt on the McDonald’s Corp/Hamburger University grounds. (Slightly disappointing that there weren’t complimentary Happy Meals in our room.) It was at this point I made my friend sign a contract (yes, a literal contract entitled “What Happens In Lisle, Stays in Lisle”) that she would not divulge to her faster marathon friends anything about: my time, my complaints, my neediness. She signed it. She better keep her word.

The next morning, we woke bright and early, and seeing as how I tend to be more the “let’s get up at the crack of noon” type of person, being up early enough to take this photo was pretty amazing:

We got to the race in time to check in and get a good parking spot. Then we waited around for an hour. People were lined up, coming in right up until the time of the race. I was feeling okay. Nervous, but okay. It was when the Announcer Lady said “You are helping make the world a more beautiful place” and “Welcome to one of the more challenging courses in the Chicago area”, that I officially started to Freak Out.

And off we went. The good thing is, I finished. The bad thing is, about half a mile into the race I panicked and heard all the people running around me and up behind me and the incline just kept going and going (and you know how I feel about inclines) and I wanted to crawl off on the side of the path, curl up in a ball and cry for my SuperBoy to come save me. What in the world was I thinking? I can’t run! I can’t do this! A punk dad runs past at this point, pushing his two year old in a stroller and talking loudly. I panic even more. I tell PH (Perfect Hair), Um, I need to walk and oh, by the way, I don’t want to do this anymore.

Now, in my defense, I am not a panicky person and I am usually not a quitter. But suddenly all my nerves made my throat close up and I kept thinking, “You want to quit a 5K? This is nothing! You loser.” When your goal is to have that sappy guy do a sad biography about you on NBC during the Olympics with weepy music playing in the background, it’s disappointing to falter in your very first race ever. (But, now that I think about it, I suppose that fact itself will add to the pathos in my bio)

The course, as promised in the promos, was a “rolling course,” and apparently in the running world, rolling course means rolling HILLS. Yikes. PH says they were “valid hills” and allowed me to use them as an excuse for my troubles. Very kind of her.

So this internal monologue went on the whole time, with me alternately making jokes about myself and complaining about myself… to myself. PH Factor was a good cheerleader and was encouraging and made me keep going. And after a while, it wasn’t so bad and I knew I wouldn’t quit.

Toward the end, I noticed this little Punky 10 year old girl who was doing so well and her dad was cheering her on and it was adorable, but it wasn’t quite so adorable that a Punky 10yo would beat me, so I ran as fast as I could to the end, finishing in 38:46 – which is not good, my friends, and I can’t believe I just said it out loud.

So, now I’m a couple days distanced from it and each time I tell somebody about it, I just laugh. Because it was humorous. There is one side of my brain that is embarrassed and not proud of myself. Then there’s this other side that says, Three frogs were sitting on a log. Two decided to jump off. How many frogs were left?

Three. The two only decided to jump off, they didn’t actually do it. For me, just getting out there and doing something public and something timed and rated was a big step in the right direction. Did I make the world a more beautiful place? Um, no, me and exercise? Not beautiful. But at least I jumped off the log.