Bah. I'm tired today and a little emotional-- probably hormonal. I can tell I'm starting to make mountains out of molehills, so I am trying to nip these little thought loops in the bud. Sometimes I am a big fan of being a masochist, and making myself upset by the little stories I tell myself. Stories that either used to be true, and now aren't; aren't a big deal; or just are not true at all.
There is a group run (for Kirksville Multisport) this evening at 5:30. I know Carol would like to do it, but she was also looking last night for people who run at her pace-- which is significantly faster during races than mine. So, that means I'm looking at a 6.5 mile run by myself-- or alone in a crowd of people who run faster than I do. I think I'm going to give her a call, but I'll probably run earlier today by myself just so I can clear some cobwebs. I am feeling a little twitchy, like I should get outside and move my body before I can concentrate on thinking work. That's one of the reasons I'm writing this morning, in an effort to clear my head a bit.
So, far with my dad, no news. He should get a call today or Friday with the results of the scan that was done (looking for cancer) on Monday. He said Tuesday was a long day with his finger amputation, and then he dipped his bandage in ketchup at McDonald's on the way home. He then drove himself back up to Salt Lake City yesterday, in spite of the fact that he'd not only had surgery done on his dominant hand, but they also removed cancer cells from his elbow (lymph nodes) and under his arm (same). He claims not to be feeling sore, not needing his pain killers, but I'm not sure a two-hour drive is a good idea anyway. Today they get a day at home, then back up tomorrow to have staples removed. I probably should have gone out this week despite his protests and despite the financial cost. But I didn't. So, move along. I think my brother is going out there this weekend.
Also, as people keep telling me, if he does have more cancer that requires treatment, I'll need to go out. His brother-in-law lives nearby and drove them on Tuesday. But his brother-in-law is older than my dad is. I'm not [trying to be] ageist, but all these old people driving is making me nervous.
The kids are with their dad this weekend. Yesterday, despite being told that there would be a lot of waiting around and boredom, Tommy came to the St. Patrick's Day run. He jogged up to the DuKum with me and Carol. Then, he found some classmates to hang out with before the run. He ran pretty well! He did the 1.5-mile run, and someone handed him a glass of water at the end. He did it in 19 minutes and something seconds. I know this because he says he came in at the same time as Royce, who did the 5K in 19 min 2 seconds.
I did not meet my personal goal of not walking during the race-- but during my first mile, I did it in 10 min 30 seconds (which is quite a bit faster than the 13-minute mile I usually train at); at mile two, I was still well under 22 minutes (so still going faster than 11-minute miles); then I got tired, and had to walk a bit during the third mile, but picked it up and ran the last half-mile hard. My time was 34 minutes, even, as I heard it. Nice, because my time last race was 37 minutes and more than 30 seconds. So, I shaved off some nice time. That wasn't even a goal!
I did meet my goal of not coming in last. In fact, people kept coming in for awhile after I was done. I was also out of breath and tired after the run-- I hadn't really been at the last run, because I didn't run it hard enough. My high school track coach used to get pissed because I'd hold back during my runs. My foot doctor (from 13 years ago when I had one) was at the race wearing a green shirt that said, "If you're not puking, you're not running hard enough." I told Carol, "If I don't feel like crap at the end of this, I'll kick my own ass." So, I felt like I acquitted myself well, despite the walking.
Should *really* *really* just give up the cigarettes for good. I went to karaoke Tuesday night and not only smoked a little, but drank and stayed out late. I smack myself and think, "How much better would my run have been if I *hadn't* done that?"
Last night right after the race, Carol and I were talking about going back out for St. Patrick's Day after we'd gotten our families home after dinner and showered and changed clothes. I called her, almost dead on my feet, at around 9, and we both bailed. I was in bed by 10pm. That, of course, led to being awake for an hour or more in the middle of the night, and now I've been up since 6 a.m., and I would like a nap. Or more coffee. Or something. But at least since I'm writing right now, I am keeping the other stories at bay.
The sun is out, so I think I'll take a shower and walk up to the coffee shop, order some mocha, and see if I can get some more work done on the project I was working on yesterday.
What is new with you?