I got back from National Conference a little bit ago, and it was great! I can't divulge too many secrets because there are 2 other groups going this month, but what a great time! I am so motivated...I hope I can spread it out and not crash and burn. :)
And, since getting home this afternoon, I have already booked a show! My friend is doing a fundraiser! Yay!!!
Now, I'm waiting for Jesse and the kids to get home. He took the kids to Iowa for the weekend. Ah...a few more hours to myself, and then it's back to normal. Whatever that is.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Exercise: an essay
It all started with the mile run.
Fourth grade we had our first mile run in gym class. We'd heard about it from the older kids, and we dreaded the day we'd have to "run the mile." I guess in American Education standards in the 1980s, we had to run it twice a year, but our gym teacher, Mr. Mason, would do it for a good two or three weeks in the fall and again in the spring.
It's not too hard to understand why I didn't like gym class. I was heavier than other fourth-graders, which opened me up to teasing. Looking back, I wasn't any bigger than them, just more awkward. I wasn't cool or anything even close to it. Not only was I heavier, but I had a big mouth, too. Tease a shy kid, it's over in 10 seconds. Tease a big mouth, it's just more fun.
We ran the mile in the neighborhood next to the school, something I bet now would be just unheard of. We also ran the mile in the large field used for recess. Every time around, we'd get a time. I was always last. People started to lap me. I rarely finished.
I remember one time, sick of the teasing and the running, I stopped at two laps when we were supposed to run three. I told Mr. Mason I had run the mile. He looked at me and cocked his head, but wrote my name down anyway. He put everyone's time up on the wall next to the gym. Mine was not there. He knew.
The next year, I switched schools, but still had to run the mile. Luckily the gym teacher at that school, Mrs. Yingst, only made us run it the twice-a-year bare minimum. I think I ran it once, but I'm not sure.
The spring of 1990, fifth grade, I hurt my knee while playing softball. I was told I had Osgood-Schlatter's disease. Great! A disease! I was way more excited than I should have been. I had a doctor's note out of running, or at least running the mile. It was like Christmas came early.
The thing about Osgood-Schlatter's disease is that you grow out of it. What it is, essentially, is the growth plate on the bone under your knee pushes your knee out. But, once you don't have a growth plate anymore, you don't have it anymore. I relied on the general apathy of the American school system. No one bothered to check up on me. I had reached and passed puberty by the time I was 14, but still that doctor's note stood.
Junior year of high school, I ran the mile. Not because I had to, but because I wanted to. I had been almost enjoying gym class, and wanted to give it a shot. I finished. It was a victorious day. Even my gym teacher was proud of me. I ran it in 12:14. Not a great time by any standards, but you know what? Some other girls didn't finish. I finished.
I've had knee injuries since, but I've always like exercising. Every time I'm on that treadmill and finish, I first look at the calories burned, but then look at the distance. I divide out the time to see how I've done.
I'm still not at that non-impressive 12:14 a mile, but I'm getting closer. I run at an incline, I run for half-an-hour at a time. And lately, my base speed has been increasing more and more each day. I can easily keep pace at a 4.0. Again, not impressive for anyone else but myself. After all, running at 4.0 mph is a 25 minute mile. But I'm doing it. I'm progressing. I'm finishing.
I'll never be a marathon runner or someone who runs as a hobby. I often say the only time I'll run is if I'm being chased. But the love of exercising, the love of myself, will always be there; no matter what my mile time is.
Fourth grade we had our first mile run in gym class. We'd heard about it from the older kids, and we dreaded the day we'd have to "run the mile." I guess in American Education standards in the 1980s, we had to run it twice a year, but our gym teacher, Mr. Mason, would do it for a good two or three weeks in the fall and again in the spring.
It's not too hard to understand why I didn't like gym class. I was heavier than other fourth-graders, which opened me up to teasing. Looking back, I wasn't any bigger than them, just more awkward. I wasn't cool or anything even close to it. Not only was I heavier, but I had a big mouth, too. Tease a shy kid, it's over in 10 seconds. Tease a big mouth, it's just more fun.
We ran the mile in the neighborhood next to the school, something I bet now would be just unheard of. We also ran the mile in the large field used for recess. Every time around, we'd get a time. I was always last. People started to lap me. I rarely finished.
I remember one time, sick of the teasing and the running, I stopped at two laps when we were supposed to run three. I told Mr. Mason I had run the mile. He looked at me and cocked his head, but wrote my name down anyway. He put everyone's time up on the wall next to the gym. Mine was not there. He knew.
The next year, I switched schools, but still had to run the mile. Luckily the gym teacher at that school, Mrs. Yingst, only made us run it the twice-a-year bare minimum. I think I ran it once, but I'm not sure.
The spring of 1990, fifth grade, I hurt my knee while playing softball. I was told I had Osgood-Schlatter's disease. Great! A disease! I was way more excited than I should have been. I had a doctor's note out of running, or at least running the mile. It was like Christmas came early.
The thing about Osgood-Schlatter's disease is that you grow out of it. What it is, essentially, is the growth plate on the bone under your knee pushes your knee out. But, once you don't have a growth plate anymore, you don't have it anymore. I relied on the general apathy of the American school system. No one bothered to check up on me. I had reached and passed puberty by the time I was 14, but still that doctor's note stood.
Junior year of high school, I ran the mile. Not because I had to, but because I wanted to. I had been almost enjoying gym class, and wanted to give it a shot. I finished. It was a victorious day. Even my gym teacher was proud of me. I ran it in 12:14. Not a great time by any standards, but you know what? Some other girls didn't finish. I finished.
I've had knee injuries since, but I've always like exercising. Every time I'm on that treadmill and finish, I first look at the calories burned, but then look at the distance. I divide out the time to see how I've done.
I'm still not at that non-impressive 12:14 a mile, but I'm getting closer. I run at an incline, I run for half-an-hour at a time. And lately, my base speed has been increasing more and more each day. I can easily keep pace at a 4.0. Again, not impressive for anyone else but myself. After all, running at 4.0 mph is a 25 minute mile. But I'm doing it. I'm progressing. I'm finishing.
I'll never be a marathon runner or someone who runs as a hobby. I often say the only time I'll run is if I'm being chased. But the love of exercising, the love of myself, will always be there; no matter what my mile time is.
Friday, July 4, 2008
Happy 4th!
Happy Fourth of July, all! We're looking forward to a relaxing day at home with the kids and Niki and Dan, with fireworks at the library later. Well, the fireworks aren't at the library, but we sit in the field behind it.
Even though I'm frustrated about finding places for the kids to go next week, I'm excited to go the Pampered Chef National Conference. We're staying at the Palmer house - I've been there before, but it will be nice to go back.
It looks like a beautiful day here. Can't ask for more than that!
This morning, the boys woke up early and came downstairs to watch TV. Usually when this happens, it means a ginormous mess to clean up. But today, the mess was kept to a minimum! I think they were only down here for half an hour or so, which helped. For breakfast, we had bread and blueberries. Guess who the blueberry princess is? You may not be able to tell in this picture, but she has about five blueberries stuffed in her mouth. She's also always looking for the camera now, much like her mother I'm sure, but I digress.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Frustrated
I'm trying to coordinate things so I can go to the Pampered Chef conference next week, and it's getting to be more than I can handle. I had to finagle things at work to get off because my schedule recently changed and my days off are now different. Okay, I did that. Then, I had to figure out financial stuff. Okay, I think I'll be okay there, but not without some sacrifice this week. I asked my mom to watch the kids, rather than keep them up here with Jesse and pay for our sitter Carrie to watch them two extra days, and she is, but can't watch them on Friday. So I'm waiting for my dad to talk to my step-mom about watching them.
Now, my mom is annoyed that I'll be spending the night downtown instead of coming back to her house each night. I know three kids can be a handful, but I really don't think it would be beneficial for me to get to her house at 10:30 at night, only to leave at 7 the next morning.
I'm doing all this so I can get this business off the ground, and possibly quit my job and stay home with my kids...and it seems like there's a bump in the road at every turn. Am I really not supposed to go to this?
I'm still trying to find someone to watch the kids Friday, because my dad thinks they may be too much for them to handle, and I'm so frustrated! I don't live down there anymore, and the people I know down there have their own lives and stuff to deal with.
I wish this would be easier.
Now, my mom is annoyed that I'll be spending the night downtown instead of coming back to her house each night. I know three kids can be a handful, but I really don't think it would be beneficial for me to get to her house at 10:30 at night, only to leave at 7 the next morning.
I'm doing all this so I can get this business off the ground, and possibly quit my job and stay home with my kids...and it seems like there's a bump in the road at every turn. Am I really not supposed to go to this?
I'm still trying to find someone to watch the kids Friday, because my dad thinks they may be too much for them to handle, and I'm so frustrated! I don't live down there anymore, and the people I know down there have their own lives and stuff to deal with.
I wish this would be easier.
I went and worked out again last night, but first weighed myself on Snap's scale...down another pound. Go me! I like working out, but I always feel like I'm on display there. Maybe because it's in downtown Dells, and everyone and their mom is walking past, looking in the window. I use the treadmill, which is right by the window. I feel like a freak show! "Come, watch the fat girl sweat it out!" Hey Snap, howabout some blinds?
I work today and tomorrow, 11 hours each day. I'm supposed to work Friday 9-3, but it's the fourth and I had plans made before the schedule switched. So, Beth at work was nice enough to cover my shift. Still, 11 hour shifts...they are not my favorite.
The kids and I went to the park yesterday. They had fun, but boy was it hot! We only stayed about 20 minutes. I brought the camera along and now I feel like one of those tourists I run into around here. What's my incessent need to preserve every moment? Um, did you read about those 11 hour shifts? Maybe that's part of it.
I posted my favorite picture. Not the best by any standards, but still my favorite. I put Casey on the monkey bars to hang for a picture. Only, I wasn't quick enough and he couldn't hold on any longer. The picture above is of him falling. He was fine...fell right on his feet and went to climb something.
Now I'm off to work. If you're in the area, stop by and buy some furniture from me! Make my 11 hours worthwhile. Oh, and can you bring me some lunch? I just don't have the stomach for fast food today.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
I-pod, do you?
I got an I-pod as a gift from my husband this past Christmas, and only now am I getting to play with it. Aside from an irritating time on the phone with Apple at my mom's house and a couple of times trying to use it at Jesse's office, I have not gotten to use my gift. Until now.
My name is Jessica, and I'm an i-tunes-aholic.
Music, pod-casts, even an episode of The Soup, why has this world never been open to me before? Oh wait, dial-up was my way of life.
I'm still trying to figure out i-tunes. For example, why can I only get my "workout" playlist on my i-pod, even though I created two others? And yes, I've sync-ed it.
Working out with the i-pod (by the way, I think I may need to name it) is definitely superior to not working out with it. Before, I'd go to Snap Fitness and get to read the TV shows. (Gotta love closed-captioning.) Last night was my first night with the yet-to-be-named i-pod. Wow. I actually wanted to move! And I'm finding my music tastes, at least for the fitness genre, are quite different than my usual tastes, bordering on embarrassing. Miley Cyrus anyone? Love it. Usher? Never had a CD...now I have two songs. And I'm discovering a very troubling crush on Justin Timberlake.
I can't wait for Jesse to get home so I can workout with the new songs I put on this morning.
My name is Jessica, and I'm an i-tunes-aholic.
Music, pod-casts, even an episode of The Soup, why has this world never been open to me before? Oh wait, dial-up was my way of life.
I'm still trying to figure out i-tunes. For example, why can I only get my "workout" playlist on my i-pod, even though I created two others? And yes, I've sync-ed it.
Working out with the i-pod (by the way, I think I may need to name it) is definitely superior to not working out with it. Before, I'd go to Snap Fitness and get to read the TV shows. (Gotta love closed-captioning.) Last night was my first night with the yet-to-be-named i-pod. Wow. I actually wanted to move! And I'm finding my music tastes, at least for the fitness genre, are quite different than my usual tastes, bordering on embarrassing. Miley Cyrus anyone? Love it. Usher? Never had a CD...now I have two songs. And I'm discovering a very troubling crush on Justin Timberlake.
I can't wait for Jesse to get home so I can workout with the new songs I put on this morning.
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