Beyond a Birthday

I heard someone say once that by the time you turn 25 all of your habits are in place.  I certainly hope not.  I am now 25...

I really did not think that I would take it all that hard.  I felt it hit me 2 days before my birthday.

I am turning 25, I have some terrible habits still and I don't really know what I am doing with my life.

Commence freak out.

But I'm a little better now.  Now that it has come and gone and there is nothing I can do about it.  What I can do is thank all of the people who made it such a wonderful day.

The day before my birthday my entire family (except one brother-in-law, Dan) came together to celebrate.  Including husband and myself, it was 14 people. Glorious.

The whole gang went to a recreation of Bethlehem which was really special, but quite cold.  After we left the camels, carpenters and Roman guards, we went back to my eldest sister's house to eat dinner made by my husband. It was so nice to not have to cook or do anything. I just sat back, danced with my nephews, (check this out... he's quite the little groover) and drank wine.

After dinner came the great unveiling.  I opened cards and an amazing necklace from friend/sister, Mary Allison and her husband/brother-in-law, Ben.  Next, Jeff slid out a giant box.  I was sure that it was going to be something for photography, but the box was just a little too big.  Then I saw a plastic handle on the top.  Hmmmm...  looks more like a set of caphalon pans than anything else.  Caphalon pans would have been nice, but instead I got a honking new computer.  It is glorious.  I cried.

No seriously, I  sobbed.  I was crying so hard I was wiping snot on people and giving wet nasty kisses.  Every single member of my family pitched in, including my in laws who were not able to be there that night.  My husband organized it all and I can not tell you how much of a surprise it was, nor can I tell you how many hours I have spent on it so far.  It's embarrassing.

On the night before my actual birthday I was lucky enough to have accidentally turned off my cell phone so I got to sleep in.  Ohhh what a gift to myself!  After my mid-day awakening, Jeff and I went to get bagels... obviously.  Then I went to take my mother flowers, a little birthday tradition we have.  Think about it, what work did I do on that day?  Nothing. She's the one who deserves the gifts.

Speaking  of my mother, my Momma got tickets for us to do a candle light tour of Monticello on the night f my birthday!  It was amazing.  We even got to go into the rotunda room.  I don't think I will ever forget it.  After our dork fest we went to have dinner at my parent's house where my precious Papa had made me steak, potatoes (no sour cream) and broccoli.  Again, so many nice things done for me on my 25th.

The last gift I MUST mention was an amazing painting my good friend Kate did of my bridal portrait.  I had NO idea she was so good!  I am in awe of how much cooler she is than me. :)

In closing, thanks again to everyone who called, texted, facebooked, and visited.  I love you all.  Some more than others.



Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.

You make me want to drink.

You know who does that?? Only my Hokies, and my job. You are not allowed to join those ranks.  You are not allowed to make me cry. You know who does that? The Hokies and my job.

So guess what?  Unless you are going to lose to JMU or sign my paycheck, please don't address to me for a while.

Yeah that's right, I am talking to you.  I am talking to YOU, the fellow female, the fellow bra wearing, PMSing, hip swinging female who asked me if I was pregnant.  I KNOW I'M OVERWEIGHT.  But guess what I'm not... PREGNANT. Nor am I too proud to blast you on my blog.

You know why I am blasting you on my blog? Because when you asked me if I was pregnant, my first worry was about how awkward YOU were going to feel when I said 'no'.  But sho nuff, you didn't bat and eyelash.  You simply said "well I was just betting you were since everyone else is", and by betting I was pregnant, you were betting I wouldn't slap you.


I don't want to be nasty, but where were you raised that it is EVER ok to ask someone who is overweight if they are pregnant.  You have known me long enough to know that this tummy is not from a parasitic fetus living inside of me.  It is from the second serving of manners my mother gave me growing up.  Want some?

So after calling my husband, friends and sisters, crying my mascara off, and refusing to eat dinner, I am now sitting on the couch, watching Man VS Food, because apparently I need to learn how to put my noteworthy girth to good use through competitive eating.


P.S. Hi Brian! Bye Brian!


Richmond Half-Marathon :)

The above shirt highlights my feelings exactly.

Let's start at the beginning.  Since this was my second half marathon, there was a little bit more pressure to do well time-wise.  The runs leading up to the race were not going very well. Shin splints, lack of mental focus and an overall feeling of not wanting to be running.

When the run started I paced myself behind what looked to be a a group of sorority girls. They were running a really great pace and they were quite entertaining!  However, while I was running I started to realize I was having tummy problems.  Buuuuh.

At about mile 2 (yep, only 2 miles in) I decided it would be better to puke and get it out of my system than to suffer for 2 more miles.  As I was waiting in line for the bathroom I realized the grand flaw in my plan.  Ponder this for a moment... what could be worse than being face first in a porter potty?

I wasted about 4 minutes waiting for a potty break that would end up being no more than a pee stop.  At this time, I had lost the pack of Tri-Deltas or whatever they were, so I had no more entertainment. I did however have a lingering memory of a failed attempt to puke.  Pleasant. I know.

At mile 4 I began to feel worse and worse. It felt like at any moment I was going to 'exorcist' on the runners in front of me, and depending on how far my head spun, the people behind me as well.  I was sure that it was not the running, because I was on pace with my practice runs and I didn't puke then.  It was the feeling of eating something I should not have that morning. It was the same feeling I got at the 4 miler.  The race where I puked in front of children. Not my best moment.

Eventually I saw up the straight away that I was coming up on a crowd of cheerleaders and spectators, and knew that I did not want to ruin any more childrens lives with my little show.  I decided porter potty or not I was going to have to end this feeling so I ran into the bushes and started attempting to lurch.  The woman to my left at the time looked over in surprise.  I can tell you I was mor-ti-fied, but instead of hiding in shame, I looked at her and said "this is my worst nightmare".

I wanted to stop. I wanted to puke up whatever it was that was bothering me, and curl up on the sidewalk, pondering all the while if when the sweeper comes along, maybe they would collect my limp, puny, vomitrous body.

With another failed attempt to puke on the books, I hit the pavement.  One mile later I saw Lauren and Terra! It was inspiring to see them leaving the park as I entered.  The park loop was gorgeous! I thought that it would end sooner than it did (it ended up being over 3 mile) but it was nice to be in the shade and in the leaves. :)

After leaving the park, I got to cheer for some folks who were suffering more than I was and who were 3 miles behind me, but still moving! Which was the same spot where I saw Lauren and Terra, and I am sure they were having the same thing I was. :)

"Awww... they are so ______ (insert synonym for fat, slow or about to die)."

After leaving the park I really don't remember much until mile 10.  Or what I thought was 10 miles. Yep, I was on mile 9 and I thought I was on mile 10. I looked at my pace and was ASTONISHED at how well I was doing.  I knew that I had lost many minutes living "my worst nightmare", but I must have been flying during my black out miles.

When I realized I was really not all that mad. I knew that I had not done as well as I had wanted, but how can you be mad when you realize that you only have 3 miles?  Even if you thought you only had 2.1...

The best moment was when I came up to mile 12.6 or so.  I was booking it down the hill and I hear my name, well my nick name, being yelled by three people. I looked over to my left and I saw my sister Megan, who had run the 8k, my sister Alison,  my friend Jessica (whose husband ran the marathon!) and my nephew, Duncan!  They were holding an amazing sign made by my other sister Katie. It was a real family affair. :) Needless to say I am out of breath, out of energy, flopping downhill and sobbing. Not a cute site!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Regardless, I got to the finish line and heard even more people cheering!  When you run a race there is nothing better than the sound of people cheering for you. Although at mile 2 the best sound may have been me actually vomiting.  ANY WAY...

When I got to the finish line, Megan, Alison, Lauren, Terra, Jessica, Duncan, My mother and father-in-law, my sister-in-law, two nephews and my husband were there.  Can you say celebration??  We even got the super cool nasa blankets.  I felt like a rockstar.  A rockstar who still had to puke.  So I did.  On the side of 95.  Better late than never?

Just like this blog. :)

Oh and here's an update for you- I have put my name in for the New York Marathon.  I find out in April if I am in or not.  Wish me luck?  Yeah, that one.