This week has been a little rough. On Saturday, Tom got sick, and on Sunday it hit me too. Stomach virus. Blech.
It took until Tuesday night for my appetite to return, and I didn't feel up to running until Wednesday. So, last night when I finally got around to running, I was pretty dismayed at how hard it was. Firstly, I couldn't decide which program I wanted to run on the treadmill, so I started three before I decided to just run with no program.
I was really surprised at the difference in how I felt just the week before, when all the nightly runs felt easy, and how I felt last night, when I slowed down to a walk at least twice. I'm going to chalk it up to the five day break and not worry about it. I was able to run for at least a mile before I dropped the speed back, so I'll just build from that.
We're planning to do a 5K on Valentine's weekend, so I'm working towards that at the moment. My goal is to run the whole time and to complete it in around 36 minutes (That's a roughly 12 min mile). I've got two weeks until then, so I think it's do-able.
Susan came to stay with us while we were sick, and I can't say enough how much we appreciate it. It made a big difference to be able to just sleep most of Sunday and not try to herd Emmy and deal with my nausea.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Treadmill
Not much is happening at the moment. We're finishing up a round of antibiotics (and by "we," I mean Emmy). We had dinner with Weez and the D (and mini-weez) on Saturday. Dad has finished the toy chest construction, for the most part, and we are now on to lacquering (I think "lacquering" is the correct way to verb that word).
I have been educated somewhat about the difference between lacquer and stain during this process. Dad chose lacquer because (and he can explain it much better, and might cringe at my explanation, but I digress) it won't damage the wood grain to remove it. Apparently stain is much harder to remove if you wanted to change the color. Dad was a little peeved that we wanted the wood to be dark to match the rest of our furniture. Dad's aesthetic is much more natural wood grain and choosing colors based on how best to feature the natural wood.
Our aesthetic (mine and Tom's) is that we (as newly minted adults) want all of our furniture to look like it goes together instead of looking like a garage sale hodge-podge.
All of that being said, the toy chest is gorgeous. I really think Emmy will love it. Especially once she develops the upper arm strength to lift the lid. But that's the downside of solid wood construction.
And now, back to the title of the post, which was my intended subject. On Saturday, Sears delivered our new treadmill. I'm so pleased with it, and the deal we got on it by buying it from the Sears Outlet.
As I've mentioned previously, my goal is to run the 1/2 marathon (as opposed to walking it, which I did last year). So, I've run three nights in a row now, running the whole time, though at a moderate pace (4.5 mph or around a 13.2 minute mile). After my run last night, I came in and proudly announced that I had increased my run from 35 minutes to 40 minutes, and was shocked when Tom, not only not enthusiastic, chided me for pushing myself too far, too fast.
And I realized that I have no idea how to train for the race. None whatsoever. I have no idea how to gradually build up my skill so that running the half won't be the misery that it was last year. I have tried to block it out, but I was miserable during the race last year. I don't even think I made it to the halfway point before I started whining at Tom. "Why do people do this to themselves?" The only reason I didn't quit was that I knew I had to make it back to the car anyway, and if I left the race course, I'd have to navigate back to the car myself (as opposed to following the course and knowing that it would take me back to the parking lot eventually).
I'm also not a very patient person. The things that I'm good at have always come easily, and I find that I get frustrated very quickly with things that require more effort. That's why I struggled so much with weight loss. I'm still not at my ideal weight, but I'm much closer to the size I was when I started college. Anyway, getting back to my point, I have this idea in my head that anything short of this *drawing an imaginary line* is laziness, or a cop-out. So, I get an idea of where I should be and I try to push for that. I've looked at some training schedules, but none of them seem to be what I'm looking for. Tom's worried that if I try to get to being able to run continuously for 13 miles too quickly, I'll burn out and quit. And since he knows me better than pretty much anyone, I'd say he's right to worry.
So, I'm willing to back off, but now I've lost my confidence that I knew what I was doing. I don't know what's too much and what's not enough. And I don't know what I'm aiming for tonight on my run.
I have been educated somewhat about the difference between lacquer and stain during this process. Dad chose lacquer because (and he can explain it much better, and might cringe at my explanation, but I digress) it won't damage the wood grain to remove it. Apparently stain is much harder to remove if you wanted to change the color. Dad was a little peeved that we wanted the wood to be dark to match the rest of our furniture. Dad's aesthetic is much more natural wood grain and choosing colors based on how best to feature the natural wood.
Our aesthetic (mine and Tom's) is that we (as newly minted adults) want all of our furniture to look like it goes together instead of looking like a garage sale hodge-podge.
All of that being said, the toy chest is gorgeous. I really think Emmy will love it. Especially once she develops the upper arm strength to lift the lid. But that's the downside of solid wood construction.
And now, back to the title of the post, which was my intended subject. On Saturday, Sears delivered our new treadmill. I'm so pleased with it, and the deal we got on it by buying it from the Sears Outlet.
As I've mentioned previously, my goal is to run the 1/2 marathon (as opposed to walking it, which I did last year). So, I've run three nights in a row now, running the whole time, though at a moderate pace (4.5 mph or around a 13.2 minute mile). After my run last night, I came in and proudly announced that I had increased my run from 35 minutes to 40 minutes, and was shocked when Tom, not only not enthusiastic, chided me for pushing myself too far, too fast.
And I realized that I have no idea how to train for the race. None whatsoever. I have no idea how to gradually build up my skill so that running the half won't be the misery that it was last year. I have tried to block it out, but I was miserable during the race last year. I don't even think I made it to the halfway point before I started whining at Tom. "Why do people do this to themselves?" The only reason I didn't quit was that I knew I had to make it back to the car anyway, and if I left the race course, I'd have to navigate back to the car myself (as opposed to following the course and knowing that it would take me back to the parking lot eventually).
I'm also not a very patient person. The things that I'm good at have always come easily, and I find that I get frustrated very quickly with things that require more effort. That's why I struggled so much with weight loss. I'm still not at my ideal weight, but I'm much closer to the size I was when I started college. Anyway, getting back to my point, I have this idea in my head that anything short of this *drawing an imaginary line* is laziness, or a cop-out. So, I get an idea of where I should be and I try to push for that. I've looked at some training schedules, but none of them seem to be what I'm looking for. Tom's worried that if I try to get to being able to run continuously for 13 miles too quickly, I'll burn out and quit. And since he knows me better than pretty much anyone, I'd say he's right to worry.
So, I'm willing to back off, but now I've lost my confidence that I knew what I was doing. I don't know what's too much and what's not enough. And I don't know what I'm aiming for tonight on my run.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Snow and Sinus Infections
This week has been weird. Sunday night, it snowed, and the snow was... 3 inches deep! (in my area) That's a lot of snow for Tennessee. So, school has been out for the whole week, and side streets have been dicey because we don't plow or treat those roads. The main roads have been fine since about 7 am Monday morning.
Luckily, our daycare didn't close this week (which was a rare and much appreciated surprise) Unluckily, after we took Emmy to daycare on Monday, she got sick and I had to go pick her up. So, Monday, I got to work for grand total of 45 minutes. I thought it was the daycare over-reacting when they called me after she "threw up," but when I got her home and fed her some bananas, she did it again. It wasn't anything dramatic, just normal baby spit-up, but I knew the daycare wasn't crazy (this time!).
Later that evening, Emmy seemed a little fussy, a little snuffly, and then we noticed the eye gunk. Earlier in the day, I noticed a dark circle under her one eye, and when I saw the eye gunk, I knew it was another bout of conjunctivitis (or pink eye). On top of the sniffles, we figured it would be a good idea to take her to the doctor. So, Tuesday morning, I stayed home for a couple of hours to assess Emmy's condition and make the appointment with the doctor.
Poor Emmy. When she woke up, her right eye was stuck closed with dried eye gunk. I tried to wipe it away with a warm wet washcloth, but she was having none of it. So we resorted to a bath to try and dissolve it away. Her crying that morning was hoarse and really pitiful sounding.
So, Tom took her to the doctor and I went to work. She has a sinus infection, which (somehow that I don't understand) caused her conjunctivitis. We were given antibiotics and Emmy went home to nap.
By the time I got home Tuesday night, she already looked much better. We decided we'd see how she looked in the morning before deciding whether or not to send her back to daycare.
Wednesday morning, she was much better, but had a dramatically runny nose, so I stayed home again. Tom was able to work from home, which was good, because it snowed all day, and apparently the roads over by his work were bad.
Today, finally, Emmy went back to daycare. She is much better after two days of antibiotics. And me? Well, I'm only one month in and I'm almost out of sick leave again. Hooray.
Luckily, our daycare didn't close this week (which was a rare and much appreciated surprise) Unluckily, after we took Emmy to daycare on Monday, she got sick and I had to go pick her up. So, Monday, I got to work for grand total of 45 minutes. I thought it was the daycare over-reacting when they called me after she "threw up," but when I got her home and fed her some bananas, she did it again. It wasn't anything dramatic, just normal baby spit-up, but I knew the daycare wasn't crazy (this time!).
Later that evening, Emmy seemed a little fussy, a little snuffly, and then we noticed the eye gunk. Earlier in the day, I noticed a dark circle under her one eye, and when I saw the eye gunk, I knew it was another bout of conjunctivitis (or pink eye). On top of the sniffles, we figured it would be a good idea to take her to the doctor. So, Tuesday morning, I stayed home for a couple of hours to assess Emmy's condition and make the appointment with the doctor.
Poor Emmy. When she woke up, her right eye was stuck closed with dried eye gunk. I tried to wipe it away with a warm wet washcloth, but she was having none of it. So we resorted to a bath to try and dissolve it away. Her crying that morning was hoarse and really pitiful sounding.
So, Tom took her to the doctor and I went to work. She has a sinus infection, which (somehow that I don't understand) caused her conjunctivitis. We were given antibiotics and Emmy went home to nap.
By the time I got home Tuesday night, she already looked much better. We decided we'd see how she looked in the morning before deciding whether or not to send her back to daycare.
Wednesday morning, she was much better, but had a dramatically runny nose, so I stayed home again. Tom was able to work from home, which was good, because it snowed all day, and apparently the roads over by his work were bad.
Today, finally, Emmy went back to daycare. She is much better after two days of antibiotics. And me? Well, I'm only one month in and I'm almost out of sick leave again. Hooray.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
We have a Tooth!
I'll be honest, Emmy's complete lack of teeth up to this point was starting to become a little weird. Suddenly you find yourself making excuses or jokes every time the subject comes up.
But I am happy to announce that the other night, I spotted a tooth! It looks to be either her left canine, or the one immediately next to it. (No one cares which specific tooth it is, crazy lady!) It's just barely emerged, so all you can see is the tip, but I can see it, and I felt it, and I promise, it's a tooth!
Tom hasn't seen it yet. The best way to look in her mouth is to make her laugh while she sits on your lap, and last night, after we picked Tom up at the airport, she wasn't in the mood to sit on laps.
I'm so excited that we finally got a tooth. Now we really have to start brushing teeth at night.
And then our next goal can be working on no longer speaking in the royal we.
But I am happy to announce that the other night, I spotted a tooth! It looks to be either her left canine, or the one immediately next to it. (No one cares which specific tooth it is, crazy lady!) It's just barely emerged, so all you can see is the tip, but I can see it, and I felt it, and I promise, it's a tooth!
Tom hasn't seen it yet. The best way to look in her mouth is to make her laugh while she sits on your lap, and last night, after we picked Tom up at the airport, she wasn't in the mood to sit on laps.
I'm so excited that we finally got a tooth. Now we really have to start brushing teeth at night.
And then our next goal can be working on no longer speaking in the royal we.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Resolutions
I don't really like "resolutions." It's never made much sense to me, and they always get dropped long before February rolls around.
I do, on the other hand, like goals. I have lots of goals, and I work towards them year-round. For the purposes of the new year, however, (Boy, do I love commas, or what?) I will say that my goal is to run the majority of the Country Music half-marathon in April. I walked most of it last year, and I hurt my foot by hobbling the last few miles to compensate for a blister. So, my goal is two-fold. I'd like to run for most of the 13.1 miles and I'd like to do it in a way that doesn't leave me limping for three weeks afterward. My time goal is 2:45.
Tom (who turns 30 in February) is planning to run the full marathon for the first time, which means that we won't be running together.
Here's to a new year and a new running goal.
I do, on the other hand, like goals. I have lots of goals, and I work towards them year-round. For the purposes of the new year, however, (Boy, do I love commas, or what?) I will say that my goal is to run the majority of the Country Music half-marathon in April. I walked most of it last year, and I hurt my foot by hobbling the last few miles to compensate for a blister. So, my goal is two-fold. I'd like to run for most of the 13.1 miles and I'd like to do it in a way that doesn't leave me limping for three weeks afterward. My time goal is 2:45.
Tom (who turns 30 in February) is planning to run the full marathon for the first time, which means that we won't be running together.
Here's to a new year and a new running goal.
New Year's Week
We spent the first part of the week at home. Poor Tom had to work, but at least he was able to work from home. We're working on weaning Emmy off the bottle, which on the one hand has been easy, but I think that might only be because Emmy doesn't have the words to ask for a bottle. If she did, I imagine we would have a lot more setbacks as Tom and I are sometimes at the point where we'll do anything to get her to stop fussing, even stepping backwards in our child rearing.
To be honest, at the time, I didn't really attribute the fussiness to the fact that she wasn't getting a bottle, but at some point, it sort of dawned on me that we had made a big change and not really considered the fallout.
It was Susan who reminded us that in the past, whenever she fussed, we checked her diaper, then gave her a bottle, and here we were refusing to give her a bottle, and instead presenting her with a sippy cup (!) full of cold (!) milk.
Wednesday night was Mom's birthday dinner. I feel really bad about it, because Emmy was so fussy that we left early. We've taken her to restaurants many times, and she is usually very well-behaved. She loves to people-watch, and there are always so many people to see in restaurants. But the restaurant was loud and crowded, and since she wasn't in daycare all week, her schedule was off, so for whatever reason, she was squirmy, fussy and loud. All of which are elements of Tom's baby nightmares. We tried every snack we had in the bag, we tried some of the restaurant's bread, we even broke down and gave her a bottle. We tried walking around, sitting on laps, and none of it made any difference. So, we got our food wrapped up and we left. That's all you can do with a fussy baby at a certain point.
The thing I feel bad about is that I had to leave Mom's birthday dinner early. Tom says that we will wait until later in the month and take her out for another dinner.
Thursday morning, we drove down to Fayetteville to spend the weekend with Susan. It was a good trip. We got to do some shopping, and Emmy got to eat several new meals. (Ham and potatoes! Clementines!) We got home Saturday night and Tom flew out to Pittsburgh Sunday evening.
Tom's been traveling for work more frequently, and this, a four day trip, is one of the longest so far. I try not to mention it because I don't want Tom to feel guilty about things that are required for work, but I hate it when he travels. I hate that he's not home and I hate the added stress of taking care of Emmy by myself. That being said, the days go quickly. He'll be home tomorrow night, and we'll be at the airport to get him.
To be honest, at the time, I didn't really attribute the fussiness to the fact that she wasn't getting a bottle, but at some point, it sort of dawned on me that we had made a big change and not really considered the fallout.
It was Susan who reminded us that in the past, whenever she fussed, we checked her diaper, then gave her a bottle, and here we were refusing to give her a bottle, and instead presenting her with a sippy cup (!) full of cold (!) milk.
Wednesday night was Mom's birthday dinner. I feel really bad about it, because Emmy was so fussy that we left early. We've taken her to restaurants many times, and she is usually very well-behaved. She loves to people-watch, and there are always so many people to see in restaurants. But the restaurant was loud and crowded, and since she wasn't in daycare all week, her schedule was off, so for whatever reason, she was squirmy, fussy and loud. All of which are elements of Tom's baby nightmares. We tried every snack we had in the bag, we tried some of the restaurant's bread, we even broke down and gave her a bottle. We tried walking around, sitting on laps, and none of it made any difference. So, we got our food wrapped up and we left. That's all you can do with a fussy baby at a certain point.
The thing I feel bad about is that I had to leave Mom's birthday dinner early. Tom says that we will wait until later in the month and take her out for another dinner.
Thursday morning, we drove down to Fayetteville to spend the weekend with Susan. It was a good trip. We got to do some shopping, and Emmy got to eat several new meals. (Ham and potatoes! Clementines!) We got home Saturday night and Tom flew out to Pittsburgh Sunday evening.
Tom's been traveling for work more frequently, and this, a four day trip, is one of the longest so far. I try not to mention it because I don't want Tom to feel guilty about things that are required for work, but I hate it when he travels. I hate that he's not home and I hate the added stress of taking care of Emmy by myself. That being said, the days go quickly. He'll be home tomorrow night, and we'll be at the airport to get him.
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