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Shy Ranter
http://shyranter.com/

I Don't Sweat and I Am Not a Runner

The treadmills are going whirr, whirr, whirr. All around I hear the cadence of pounding footfalls thump, thump, thump of dozens of disciplined runners. I quietly move over to the row of treadmills. I look to the left. I look to the right. I find an open treadmill. I get on the treadmill. I place my water bottle on the right, a towel next to me on the left—although I'm not sure why I have a towel, since I don’t sweat. I take out my book, set it up on the book shelf in front of me, and turn the treadmill to 3.5 miles per hour; because I’m not a runner.

I am a lot of things, but I am not a runner. Everyone knows that runners:

1. Sweat
2. Don’t read books while running, and
3. Actually run

And since none of those things apply to me, I know, for a fact, that I am not a runner. Well, at least, that was the case over four years ago. Until that fateful day. The day I became a runner.

I’m at the gym, minding my own business, leisurely strolling at 3.5 miles per hour, reading my book, all bundled up with a jacket and sweat pants (Because it's so cold in here!), and not sweating; when the runner to my right looks over to me and says, “Hi! I’m Lucy*. I met you last month at the pool.” I look at her and don’t recognize her. “Yes, we met during the kids’ swimming lessons, remember?” I look at her again more closely, and remember. She does look a bit familiar. At the pool, she had looked a lot different. She had looked like a normal person then. She did not look anything like the runner next to me.

Over the next few months, I get to know her.

“O my gosh!” says Lucy, “I’m completely drenched. I look like I just got out of the pool.”

I look at her and agree. “Yikes! You are. I guess I’m lucky that way. I’m always cold, and you see,” I lean in closer to her and whisper, “I don’t sweat. Not even in 100 degree weather.”

She is speechless at first, but then she adds. “That just means that you’re not exercising hard enough.”

The following day, we are on the treadmills again. Lucy, sweating profusely. Me, hardly perspiring. When Lucy looks over to me and says, “You know, if you’re not sweating that means that you’re probably not working hard enough. Why don’t you try raising the speed to 4.0 miles per hour?”

So I do. To humor her. I set the speed to 4.0.

Days go by and now I’m walking at 4.0 miles per hour. Reading my book. Again, Lucy is sweating buckets and buckets of sweat. Me, I’m as dry as the leaves in winter, and proud of it. Lucy is not impressed. “You’re still not working hard enough,” she says. “Try setting the speed to 4.2.”

To humor her, I do it. I set the speed to 4.2. This goes on for weeks. Lucy, sweating like a pig. Me, not close to breaking a sweat.

Fast forward a few months. I’m briskly moving along at 4.5 miles an hour.  When Lucy announces, “If you can walk 4.5 miles per hour, you can easily jog at 5.0 miles per hour.”

I stop in my tracks and almost fall off the back of the treadmill. I'm incredulous. I’m outraged. “But I’m not a runner!”  I insist. “I have bad hips.  I have weak ankles. I have high arches. I have asthma. I can’t run. I really wish I could, but I just can’t. It’s medically impossible.”

Lucy, just smiles and says, “Trust me. If you can do 4.5 miles per hour, you can handle 5.0 miles per hour.”

Just to prove her wrong, I try it. I crank that treadmill all the way to 5.0. I'm slowly jogging for a few minutes when I start to feel a bit warm, so I pause the treadmill and take off my jacket. I turn the treadmill back on and keep jogging for another ten minutes. At this point I notice that I can no longer read my book because my head is bobbing up and down and it's making me dizzy to try to read. I keep jogging. I feel perspiration rolling down my face. I’m not completely drenched, but I’m actually sweating. “Yuck!” I exclaim. “I’m sweating.”

Lucy smiles at me with an “I told you so smile.”

At that point I realize that like a runner:

1. I am sweating
2. I can't read my book on the treadmill, and
3. The treadmill is set to 5.0 miles per hour and I am no longer walking. 

And I think to myself “How is that possible? I’m NOT a runner!”

But that is because I had been wrong about myself. I am not, not a runner. On that day, I became a runner. A bona fide runner. A crazy mother runner.

Over four years later, after countless 5Ks, a bunch of  half marathons, and five full marathons, I am convinced that everyone needs a Lucy in her life. Everyone needs someone that will challenge her to step outside her comfort zone; to quickly move to uncharted territory; to do what she always thought was impossible.

*name changed

Top Ten Things to Do During Marathon Taper Week

It's the week before the marathon, and according to my marathon training plan I'm ready to run the marathon. Marathon runners know this week as Marathon Taper Week. Relatives and friends of marathon runners know this week as Get Out of the Way Week. And they use this time to plan a vacation in a different hemisphere from where the marathon runner will be located this week.

In the spirit of marathon taper week I've put together a "Top Ten" list of things for a marathon runner to do during taper week.

Top Ten Things to Do During Marathon Taper Week

10) Don't think about not running. This is really hard to do, because this is the week that the weather is perfect for running, and you notice that everyone else in the world is out running. 

9) Carbo load. You need to load-up on those carbs. Pasta, potatoes, bread. Bring it on! Remember, beer is full of carbs.

8) Check the weather forecast for race day. Obsessively check the weather. If you don't like the weather forecasted for race day the first time you check, keep checking until you get the forecast you like. 

7) Decide on what you will wear for the race. Have outfits ready for every type of weather condition you can imagine. Spend time trying on all these outfits.

6) Clean out your closet. Since your weekly mileage is down, you have all sorts of extra time. Be productive and clean out your closets. If after cleaning out your closets you still have extra time, you can clean out your garage, your kitchen pantry, your laundry room. The options are endless.

5) Memorize the race route map. This is important because you can't count that race officials will properly mark the course. Do you really want to  blindly follow the crowd and chance going off course? It's happened before. Don't take chances and memorize the route. 

4) Go on a  short, two-mile easy run to keep your muscles loose. This is also better known as attending the marathon expo. You can get your two miles of cross training easily by walking to the expo, walking around the expo, and standing in line.

3) Put together your marathon play list. If you spent enough time memorizing the race course, then you can even choreograph the music to coincide with the landmarks on the marathon route.

2) Set your alarm for race day, and in case you're worried that you will not hear the alarm, set two or three other alarms. The more alarms you can set, the better.

And the most important thing to do on marathon taper week.

1) Show up at the start line on the right day. 

The 26.2-Mile-Long Party

There is a mosh pit of people lined up on either side. The paparazzi are clamoring to get a better shot of you. The band is playing. People are cheering, waving banners, clapping. Complete strangers are trying to get your attention and are shouting out your name.

"Way to go, Kathy!"

 

"Looking Good, Susy!"

 

"Keep up the good work, Nicole!"

You look directly in front of you and see a cleared path to follow. People move out of the way to let you pass by. You are nervous and excited. The energy is all around. "That’s right," you think, "It’s time to Party. It’s time to get this 26.2 mile party on the road." Because this marathon has just started.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that anyone who links the word party with the word marathon is completely out of her mind. And I would normally agree with you on that one, if it weren’t for the endorphins from all the running. It’s like Elle Woods from Legally Blonde said, “Exercise gives you endorphins. Endorphins make you happy.” Yes, these endorphins make me so happy that I’m convinced that running a marathon is as much fun as a party, but wait, I can actually prove it.

First, other than Oktoberfest, where can you go and hang out with a mob of happy people with whom you share the same interests? A marathon is full of people with shared goals. Thousands and thousands of brand-new friends who, just like you, have trained for months. Friends that know what it's like to live off GUenergy gels and Gatorade for the past three months. They have carbo-loaded. They understand all about hill repeats, speed workouts, and long runs. If you tell them that you just ran 20 miles and then sat in a bathtub full of ice cubes afterward, they will nod and smile in understanding. And don’t forget that they also speak your language. Not only can they say the word fartlek, they can say it without bursting out laughing or quickly getting out of your way when you say it.

And if having thousands of new friends isn’t enough, how about all the celebrities you’ll see along the way? At my last marathon, I actually saw Elvis. I know, you thought he was dead, so did I, but there he was singing to me in front of the conservatory. By the way, I also saw Michael Jackson, Lady Gaga, the Blues Brothers, and a gorilla. A real gorilla. He was just standing there giving everyone high-fives.

How about all the free food and drinks? I used to think that Saturday morning at Sam’s Club was the place to go for free food and drinks, but no, a marathon has that beat. You go to Sam’s Club and there you might see five, maybe six free sample tables with one person working and fifty people lined up in a single file line to get a bite of bacon-wrapped, cheese, mini dogs. At a marathon, you’ll find at least twenty-four stations of table, after table staffed by hundreds of people handing out refreshments, and the best part; no waiting. And then there are the random strangers that will give you bottled water, free candy, fresh fruit, home-baked cookies, and even ice-cold beer. Try to get free, ice-cold beer at Sam's Club.

How can it get better than this? Well how about all the cool party favors they hand out. At the Flying Pig Marathon, I got a brand-new, technical shirt with the coolest logo of a pig dressed up like Batman. Who doesn’t love pigs and Batman? But together? I know, wow! They also give you a brand new Asics gym bag, and all types of free samples.

But the best thing is the fans. They line up all along the 26.2 miles for hours and hours, just to watch and to cheer-on the runners. They have cowbells. They have megaphones. They have cute babies. They have streamers. And they have the best signs in the world. They make these signs that say things like:

“Worst Parade Ever” (which is funny because it’s not true)

“Chuck Norris never ran a marathon."

“Don’t stop people are watching."

"Why do all the cute ones run away?”

And the best sign of all, at the mile 25 marker: “The end is near.”

As you can see, a marathon is just one long party. You get to make thousands of new friends. You get to rub elbows with celebrities. You get free stuff. You have strangers cheering you on and entertaining you the entire time. But best of all is that moment when you think that you’ve had enough fun. It’s been close to four hours and you look straight ahead. The end is near (that guy at mile 25 was right). You cross the finish line with your arms held high. And just as you stop, a fan places a medal around your neck. A shiny new medal. Now that’s what I call the end of a great party. A 26.2-mile-long party.

Very Expensive Knick Knacks

Being the good mother that I am, and wanting the best for my children, I’m always on the lookout for wholesome opportunities that will help me grow strong, healthy children. In addition to watching their diet, keeping them safe, and loving them beyond words, I realize that it’s important to provide them with opportunities to exercise their growing muscles. . .

Therefore, please explain to me why my children spend most of their time glued to their computers, or reading books, or working on arts and crafts? I’ll tell you what, it’s time for an intervention, that’s what that is!

A reality check moment occurred the other day. Googie was whining to me about how I never let him do any exercise, and how much he loved to run, and how I never let him go out for a run. When he was done with his exposition, and after I was done laughing uncontrollably (kids say the darndest things), I calmed down enough to ask him if he would like to join a cross country team. His brother was on a high school cross country team that also had a grade school team. It seemed to be a great solution to this problem.

He was so excited that he jumped up and down, hugged the guts out of me, and proclaimed me the best mother in the world. After I collected my guts and put them back in my body, we went to the cross country information meeting. He liked what he heard, so off we went to get a pair of real running shoes (real=expensive) and a couple of running outfits. All the bases were covered. No chance for an epic fail.

Eager to begin his first day of practice, Googie was dressed and ready to go. Running shoes. Check. Running clothes. Check. Giant water bottle filled with ice-cold water. Check. And out the door we went. We showed up to practice about thirty minutes early so we relaxed under a tree. The team started to show up. The coaches showed up. Practice began.

Googie had a lot of fun meeting the other kids on the team and taking part in the ice-breaker activities where everyone introduced themselves. Then just like that, the coach told everyone to run around the field to warm up, and a herd of runners took off. After the dust settled, I looked and saw Googie standing in the middle of the field, all alone, crying. 

I ran up to where he was. “What’s wrong?”

“Everyone is faster than I am”

“That’s okay, they have been running for a while. You’re a beginner. It’s okay.”

“I’m going to die!” he cries.

“No, you’re fine. Let’s just walk back.”

“I hate running! Why did you make me run? You think this is fun?”

“Yes, running is fun. You just went out too fast. You’ll be fine.”

“No! I will never run again! I don’t like cross country. I don’t like running on the grass. Why did you make me join cross country? I want to play soccer”

Thinking (or not thinking), I quickly point out, “Sweetie, soccer is running on grass after a ball.” This rational, statement flipped his switch. Did I say rational? Everyone knows that rational and children don't go well together. If Googie was upset before I said that, then he was completely unhinged at that point.

“You just don’t want me to do anything! You don’t want me to exercise! You don’t want me to have fun! You like to see me suffer! I never want to do this again!”  He was hysterical. I would also like to point out that there are not enough exclamation points in this world to express how that child sounded at that moment.

He was upset. I was upset. After I spent a fortune on cross country gear, he just quits on the first day of practice. Although I’m a firm believer that a person should finish what they start, I’m also a firm believer in peace and quiet. I think that twenty-plus years of practice as a mother have taught me this, at the least. And ten years of practice with this particular son have taught me that the probability of a good outcome if I insist he stay on the team and attend practices, would be zero. Weighing my options, I decided that he could quit.

Today, Googie is perfectly happy reading his books about Chemistry, building Rube Goldberg machines, and making a mess in our living room— while his running shoes sit nearby. His running shoes, very expensive knick-knacks, go really well with the décor in that room right now. Trés Chic!

Boys and Bugs and Spit and Blood

Being the only female in a house overrun by testosterone is rather exhausting. Males are noisy, smelly, and messy. A male’s idea of clean and hygienic is rather different than a female’s. For example, males are staunch believers in the ten-second rule; when something edible falls to the ground, they have ten seconds to pick it up and eat it. That’s just ridiculous. Any self-respecting female, or at least any rational person (I’m being redundant, sorry), knows that you only have three seconds to pick food off the ground before it becomes inedible. Then there’s the whole thing about manners. Boys and girls have different ideas of what constitutes polite, social behavior, especially at the dinner table.

According to Emily Post, etiquette expert, there is a correct way to behave at the dinner table, and she has a list of the Top TenTable Manners that are very basic and should be easy to remember. They include chewing with your mouth closed; not making any gross noises at the table, such as, blowing your nose or slurping; not sticking your hand in your mouth (or other orifices, gross!); using your napkin, keeping your elbows off the table; you get the idea. These are just a few of the ten, very basic and easy-to-remember rules, or at least I used to think they were easy to remember. I can’t keep track of how many times I have found myself teaching these rules, or reminding my table-mates of these rules, or how many times the rules get broken around here.

But with all the etiquette rules and whatnot that are out there, I have to say that I’m sure that no other family in the entire world has "The Two Basic Rules of Dinnertime Conversation" that we have at our home. These two rules are always followed around here, and it’s a rare day when both of them are forgotten at dinnertime. We could be talking about politics, religion, current events, or any controversial, non-controversial, or just plain lame topic. These two rules are always followed:

1)    Always bring up a bug of some type in conversation.

2)    Always mention a bodily fluid of some type at the dinner table.

Let me give you a few examples. You would think that the Bible would be a safe topic at the dinner table, but at this house the conversation would somehow turn to Moses, and someone (one of the male youngsters in this house) would most definitely bring up every bug in the ten plagues, as well as how the water was turned into blood. Or how about talking about the beautiful, flowering pear trees, or the sweet-smelling blooms on our linden trees; you would think that was safe, right? But then we would end up talking about bees, flower nectar, and the process that bees go through to make honey (FYI, it involves bodily fluids). Okay, you say, the weather is a safe topic, right? Wrong! We would end up talking about flies in the spring, and how they regurgitate what they eat every time they land on something. Or we would end up talking about mosquitoes in the summer, and how they suck your blood. Babies are cute and safe, you say. Umm, let’s not go there. You get the picture, I hope.

So, if you live in a male-dominated household and are looking for a way to spice up things at your dinner table, or if you want to lose a few pounds, why not consider adopting "The Two Basic Rules of Dinnertime Conversation." You too could be blessed by boys and bugs and spit and blood.

Mama in Pajamas

http://www.mycutegraphics.com

Sitting around the kitchen table, doing school work together as a family, beginning the day at whatever hour works best, wearing pajamas and fuzzy slippers, a typical homeschooling family starts its day. I remember back when I was researching homeschooling this was one of the scenes that was repeatedly painted by homeschooling experts.

I never quite understood the appeal of sitting around past breakfast time still in pajamas. Pajamas are for sleeping and nothing else, that is, unless you're sick or you have a newborn. The thought of going past breakfast still wearing my pajamas is depressing. I can't walk to the mailbox in my pajamas. I'm not sure why, but all I know is that if I have to open the front door for any reason, I will at least put on some real pants.

Apparently, I'm strange (surprised?). It seems that wearing pajamas in public is the thing for the PTO crowd to do, particularly while dropping children off at school. It's like a scene straight out of People of Walmart. I almost feel overdressed in the morning dropping my children off while wearing jeans, a Target crewneck, and gym shoes. That's right, I didn't get the memo. I can almost hear the other moms thinking, "Who does she think she is? Wearing real clothes here like that."

So, in tribute to these moms, and dedicated to their traumatized children, I present to you, my highly-regarded, award-winning, five-star poem entitled "Mama in Pajamas."

Mama in Pajamas
by http://mamarantingnow.blogspot.com/

she drives the kids to school

with rollers in her hair

she looks like such a fool

you wish she wasn't there

she walks out of the car

with slippers on her feet

why does she walk so far

why can't she be discreet

you hope your friends can't see

maybe they're all asleep

oh, Lord please have mercy

or else you just might weep

mama in pajamas

morning, noon and bedtime

tell your shrink your traumas

of mama drama school time

The Reverse Miracle

It's really strange how sometimes a child can feel perfectly fine until it's time to go to school. We've been having some problems with getting Googie off to school in the mornings. He has a behavior contract at his school stating that if he finishes his homework before 8:30 in the evening, I sign his homework notebook and he gets extra time in the gym when he gets to school. You'd think it would be that simple?  Ha!

The main problem we seem to be having is that he comes home completely exhausted from his school day. I pick him up from school (which is about ten minutes away) and as soon as we get home, he falls asleep and stays asleep until the morning. You can imagine how hard it would be for someone to complete their homework while sleeping. You can also imagine how hard it would be to wake up a sleeping child that is either a very heavy sleeper or a gifted actor, one so talented that he won't even wake up for pizza and ice cream.

And so, here we are, it's morning and the dreaded homework wasn't completed the night before. Everyone wakes up, eats breakfast, and starts their day. Googie is happily sitting on the sofa reading a book about family games (that child doesn't read fiction, but I digress) when he calls out, "Mom, do I have to go to school today?" Which actually means, "I didn't complete my homework so I don't want to go to school."

I continue what I'm doing and casually answer, "Yes, it's Thursday. You go to school on Thursday, you know that." He doesn't say anything for quite a while and I continue to pack his lunch and get ready to leave.

Suddenly, and unexpectedly, I start to hear strange, wild animal sounds coming from the family room. It either sounds like a raccoon is dying or a coyote is giving birth. As I ponder how a raccoon or a coyote got into the house--maybe the kids left the back door open again last night, or there is something trapped in the chimney; stranger things have happened at this house--I walk over to the family room and find Googie doubled over in apparent pain, groaning, and clutching at his stomach. "My stomach hurts," he moans.

"It's a reverse miracle!" I exclaim as I usher him to the car and take him to school.

Winner, Wiener, Whiner

 or What Does a Winner Do After Winning?

Right now, all I can think about is that line from the movie Shark Tale when Oscar says, "Wait, Lola, I'm not a nobody, I'm a wiener." Because instead of feeling like a winner, I feel like a wiener. You see, you're probably thinking that after winning NaNoWriMo I just sat down, took it easy, basked in my glory and gave up on writing. And you wouldn't be too far from the truth considering that it's been about five months since my last blog post. There was something about writing a 50,000 word novel that resulted in what appears to be a complete writing moratorium on my part, but not really. I've actually been doing a lot of writing, that is, if you count posting on Facebook, writing text messages, writing responses to e-mails, writing and whining in my iPad journal, and now writing cutesy titles for my boards on Pinterest. In short, I've been doing absolutely anything and everything to get out of revising my NanoWriMo draft.

Then one day not too long ago I found myself pondering a Mark Twain quote that keeps making its rounds on Facebook. It goes like this:

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.

At that point reality hit me on the head and I realized that  I only had about six months until NaNoWriMo started again. That little voice inside my head, that same little voice which kept saying that I needed a few weeks to regroup after NaNoWriMo before revising the novel. That same voice which kept saying that I needed to just forget the whole thing. That same voice which made the New Year's resolution to have a working draft of my novel ready before the end of the year. Yes, that voice, just told me that I needed to finish what I started.

Because when I really thought about it, I realized that years from now, when I looked back on my experience with NaNoWriMo, I would regret not having a finished draft of my novel more than I would regret giving up because the story would never be perfect.

In short, I'm back and I will finish that novel, even if it turns out to be silly.

I'm a Winner!

Yes, it's true. I Won! I'm a bona fide, card-carrying, badge-earning winner of NaNoWriMo. I finished writing 50,000 words of pure genius. Well, I can't guarantee that's it's pure genius, but at least it's the beginning of something.

Twenty-five days ago I began with a blank file, the misguided notion that I could write a novel in one month, and an idea for a novel. Now I have 50,000 words of what could someday be a best seller (a girl can dream, right?).

However, please, O, please don't ask me if you can read it now. These 50,000 words are just a draft of the beginning of a novel. Maybe someday in the future, after thousands of revisions, and thousands of more words, I'll actually have something worth reading, but right now I just have 50,000 words, a lot of gaping plot holes, lots of inconsistences, boring dialogue, and probably a lot of worthless nonsense.

But at least for now, I can go back to my previously scheduled life.

NaNoWriMo: Happy Donation Day and Hitting the Halfway Point

Today is NaNoWriMo Donation Day. It's the day when the good people at The Office of Letters and Light, sponsors of NaNoWriMo, encourage us Wrimos to donate toward the program. The National Novel Writing Month is a free program that is made possible by donations from viewers like you and me. No, wait, that's PBS, what I mean is that this program is offered free of charge to anyone who wants to take part; however, it costs money to put together and host this program so they need good people to donate money to make it all possible. Here's a little video that explains it rather well.




So, yes, I donated toward the program. And why not? If I didn't have NaNoWriMo to push me to get my novel written, the novel would just stay safely tucked away in my brain for years on end waiting for me to have the time to write it (never), waiting until I can make sure I have the idea perfectly outlined (Who am I kidding?), waiting until I am sure that I know what I am doing (procrastinating), or just plain waiting.

So here I am, close to the middle of the month, and I have hit the halfway point. I actually have written 25,000 words of my novel, out of the 50,000 word goal. That means that this novel is beating the three P's of procrastination, perfectionism, and paralysis.

May the long-winded, rambling, wordiness that is verbosity lead me to 50,000 words so that I can win this thing!

NaNoWriMo: Day ARGH!

No, I didn't just go all pirate on you. That's the sound of stress, but not stress caused by writing my quota of words for my NaNoWriMo novel. No, it's the sound of the stress caused by my attempt at trying to manage the stress in my life. When I embarked on this great, non-pirate filled journey, I envisioned long nights spent trying to come up with the words to fill a 50,000 word novel written in just one month. It does sound stressful, right? What I wasn't expecting was that coming up with the words wasn't the problem, the problem was that my life really is pretty stressful, and no amount of denial will cancel that out.

While I'm working on the novel, the words just seem to flow. Granted, I can't vouch for the quality of said words, which may end up being as good as a banshee screaming or me singing out loud (which actually sound like the same thing). Yes, while writing the novel I actually get lost in the story; I become the protagonist in my made-up world, and experience things that I have never done or will ever do as long as I retain my sanity (the jury is still out on that one). It's been an exiting, lucky, thirteen days of non-stop action.

My real life, on the other hand, has gone on as it usually does. With things needing to be done around the house, and me doing these things around the house. Then, today, I had an epiphany. Why don't I ask the other members of this household to help around the house a bit, especially now that I've taken up this temporary, new task of attempting to write a novel in one month. Some support here people, please? So I pick easy jobs like, "Someone, anyone, could someone please let the dog out?" I wait, repeat myself, no response, repeat myself again, then I hear "ARGH!" coming from the other room. Apparently, letting the dog out is a stressful job. So now I have myself under stress from all that needs to get done, and another family member that is stressed out beyond belief because of my bright idea to ask for help around here.

Then, I have an epiphany (great day for those, I hear). I will reduce my stress by not asking for help around here. Hear those crickets chirping? That's the sound of peace and quiet. The sound of stress reduction. The absence of ARGH!

NaNoWriMo: Day 4

Well, this post should actually be called Day 5, since technically it is the 5th day of NaNoWriMo, but I’ll still call it Day 4 because all I have to report is what I wrote yesterday, and I’m still hoping for a successful day.

Yesterday I was all about the experience. Last night, I even wrote a post reporting on how successful the day had been, including all sorts of statistics about my word count, about how I would finish the novel well before the 30th of November, and about how I had it all figured out. However, after barely surviving this morning, I started to look over what I had written, and laughed so hard that I about laughed up my lung. Who was I kidding?

This morning my son was running around practically yelling, “Danger, danger, Will Robinson,” like the robot in Lost in Space. You see, while I was being all Zen and writing all sorts of amazing things for my novel for the past few days, life was still going on all around me; I just didn’t notice.

Remember all those silly rules I wrote after Day 2? Something about sitting away from distractions like dirty dishes, piles of dirty laundry, clumps of dog fur? Did you know that just because you can’t see something, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist? You did? Then why didn’t tell me this? Let me tell you, I woke up this morning and noticed that all these things had magically materialized all around me.

Clean uniform pants did not exist in our house this morning. Food? Oh, that’s right, I was too busy to notice that we were all out of food. So, today I spent the day doing all those things that I hadn’t done while I’d been writing these past four days, which means that later on tonight, I’ll be drinking a nice hot cup of very strong coffee. Who needs sleep tonight? Not I! I have this thing to win!

NaNoWriMo: Day 3

 

 

Today I attended the NaNoWriMo Kick Off event, met some really cool people, and met many different types of writers. Before today, I always subscribed to the idea that writing is best done in complete isolation and in a sound-proof environment ― hence the statement in my previous post about noise cancelling headphones.

Anyway, I packed my laptop, notebook, pens, pencils rubber bands, index cards, stapler, ruler, highlighter pen, paper clips, glue stick, scotch tape, various styles of post-it notes, a letter opener (What was I thinking?), I actually talked myself out of bringing a calculator (Big mistake, I actually needed that one.), chocolate, and my handy-dandy noise cancelling headphones. I wanted to make sure I was prepared. I'm not sure for what I was preparing, but I was prepared.

I went to the event not expecting to actually get any writing done but to meet other real life people that were crazy enough to attempt this. It was good to find out that these other Wrimos (that’s what we’re called) were not just some avatars on an on-line forum; they were real, flesh-and-bone people.

And, I did get some writing done, not as much as in the previous two days, but I had a lot of fun being around other people that were working toward the same goal. It’s a bit like when I was training for the marathons with Team in Training; there’s something about being around others that have the same goal in mind. The Wrimos even gave me this really cool sticker that I stuck on my laptop. It says, "Limitless Imagination, Dangerous Overcaffeination, Questionable Sanity." I think that it pretty much sums up the whole thing.

The surprising thing for me today was finding out that I can still write my novel with people around me that are talking, joking, laughing, and having a good time. Since this experience is supposed to be fun, why not have fun while doing it, right?

NaNoWriMo: Day 2

No longer was yesterday All Saints Day, a very important Holy Day for Catholics, it was also the first day of NaNoWriMo. I am convinced that having started the day off with Mass and Holy Communion fed me in a way that allowed me to get through the day, and boy was it a doozy!

It was non-stop excitement all day, and with all that excitement, it was a miracle that I was able to find any time to start on NaNoWriMo, which would have been very sad indeed. How could I fail on the first day, right? But I am happy to say that not only was I able to carve out some time to work on my novel, I actually generated 2,141 words, well above the required daily average to reach my goal of 50,000 words by November 30. At this rate, I will be able to reach my goal and win this thing well ahead of schedule, probably even as early as November 25. And if not, at the least, it gives me some leeway if a day comes by in which I may not be able to generate the daily word quota.

So far today, I’ve been able to generate an additional 1,732 words, and I've gained a lot of experience in just two days.

• I learned that starting the day with prayer helps start the day off right.

• That I need to work in a place where I can’t see the dirty laundry, and the piled stacks of dirty dishes.

• To stay away from people that will distract me or at least to not be able to hear them (Thank you noise cancelling headphones).

• Not to answer the phone while working on the novel.

• Only check e-mail and social media during pre-determined breaks.

• Celebrate by doing a happy dance the moment I hit 1,667 words, then keep writing.

• Don’t edit the work as I write, I’ll have the rest of my life to edit the novel, but only 30 days for NaNoWriMo.

I also learned that I don’t need to spend countless months doing background research before I even start the story. For example, I don’t know anything about BASE jumping, but my character has already done a BASE jump, and it’s only the first day. I figure that I’ll learn about BASE jumping and other crazy stunts from my character as I write the novel. I’m looking forward to all the crazy, extreme things that my character will do.

By the way, my character is a man. What in the world do I know about being a man?

This whole thing will be a learning experience.

Tomorrow will be the local area NaNoWriMo Kick Off event. I’m a bit intimidated by the prospect of hanging out with writers that actually know what they’re doing. It's like I'm an impostor or something. But I read somewhere that a writer is someone who writes, and I think that defines me rather well. Not that I will be shouting it from the rooftops, but I guess the fact that I write makes me a writer.

So the writing continues!

NaNoWriMo: Day 1

NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month, starts today. The program is a challenge to write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days, which averages out to be about 1,667 words per day, or 69.46 words per hour, or about 1.16 words per minute (as long as I stay awake for 24 hours). I can do this. Please pass me the coffee. This year I will actually win NaNoWriMo. And to win it, all it takes is to actually reach the 50,000 word target by the end of the month.

It's sort of like a marathon, you know, you complete a marathon, you get a medal. And since I've already completed three marathons (been there, done that), I think it's time for a new challenge. That's right, at least if I complete this challenge I can actually say that I won. I can't exactly say that I won any of the three marathons that I've completed. When you complete a marathon, you're just a finisher. When you complete NaNoWriMo, you're a winner!

The goal is to be a winner. So I've spent the past few months planning my novel, outlining, writing character sketches, acting out some of the characters, and developing a strategy. Here are a few of my ideas:

1. I will not watch T.V. That's right, no T.V. But what if I'm running on the treadmill?
2. Ok, no T.V. except while running on the treadmill, or unless a really good show is on, or the Netflix DVD arrives.
3. Limited time on Facebook (whatever that means).
4. No outside interests other than writing, or praying, or housework, or taking care of the children, or shopping, or hanging out with friends (I hope I didn't forget something).
5. No radio, no music, no media distractions, other than enjoyable radio stations, music that I like, and interesting YouTube videos of cute puppies doing the kibble dance.
6. I will write a minimum of 1,667 words per day.

There, that's the plan. I can't wait to see my word counter go up, up, and up. That's because I will be a wiener winner.

Happy Halloween

Halloween is so much fun. What better time of the year to go out in public dressed up as a character, act like the character, and not have people think you're weird. Well, they might still think you're weird, but at least it's socially acceptable, at least it's mostly socially acceptable.

 

This Halloween I wanted to be Deanna Troi from Star Trek the Next Generation. I searched high and low for an appropriate costume, but wasn't able to find one. Instead of wasting more time and risking not having the costume in time, I ended up coming up with my own costume.

 

In order to make a costume of Deanna Troi, first I decided that I wanted to go as the Season 7 Deanna Troi that wore a standard blue Star Fleet uniform. Next I went and bought a mock turtle-neck shirt in blue, some black felt material, and off I went to design my own costume. This is what I came up with.

 

 

Not bad for someone who is at the most a beginner seamstress, and beginning seamstress is probably not the correct term, it's probably more like aspiring seamstress, or desperately hoping to be able to sew, or better yet, a person who owns a sewing machine and a pair of scissors. By the way, in case you were wondering, I'm the one on the left. I'm just saying.

 

Luckily, I already owned a Star Trek Communicator badge, and I was able to find some pins in the jewelry section of JoAnn Fabrics that looked like Star Trek rank insignia, or pips as they’re known by any serious Trekkie, which I’m getting close to approximate. I was also able to find a phaser at the local costume store. That's right, they had phasers in stock, but not any Deanna Troi costumes, and they call themselves a costume store?

 

With my brand new facsimile of a Starfleet science officer costume, a group of us went to a big Halloween street party in our town and had a great time.

 

Here we are getting ready to leave.

 

 

By the way, the guy dressed as a toilet man was the most popular person in the entire place. Everyone stopped to get a picture with the toilet man, or John, or any number of names that will not be mentioned in my PG rated blog.

 

 

I met a lot of other Star Trek characters and even ran into one of my biggest fans, who told me a lengthy story about how he grew up watching me on T.V., how I was his childhood crush, and how the show shaped his world view. And like a good ship's counselor, I politely listened to him. Here are some of my new Star Fleet friends.

 

 

Now off to get some candy. It's Halloween, in case you didn't hear.

It's a Thing!

 

As if life around here isn't complicated enough, now I have a new challenge: finding delicious gluten free and dairy free recipes.

I just recently learned that Bubba is gluten intolerant. We were already dealing with his casein allergy (a milk protein), and his peanut allergy, and my soy allergy. Yes, with each additional allergy, entire food categories are eliminated.

If you have ever been quoted as saying: "I just love pizza. I can't live without it, " watch out, you just might find yourself having to cut gluten (pizza crust has that) and dairy (um, hopefully I don't have to mention that cheese is a dairy food item) from your diet.

But I digress. What in the world is xanthan gum? That is the question. At our house, we spend a lot of time reading food labels, ingredient lists, nutritional information, recipes, and we do a lot of cooking from scratch. It's partly because we're concerned with eating a healthful diet, but mostly because we need to watch out for allergens in our food. While reading food labels we frequently would encounter xanthan gum. We would laugh about it, wonder what it was, joked about how delicious it was and about how we were all out of it and needed to add it to our shopping list. Little did we know that it was "a thing." Yes, you can walk into a store and actually buy xanthan gum.

And how do I know this? Because I found myself in the position of having to bake gluten free/dairy free brownies, and I learned that you need to use xanthan gum when you bake with wheat flour substitutes. It has something to do with having to make up for the elasticity that is lost when gluten is taken out of a recipe. Now, I can't speak for other recipes, but the first gluten free/dairy free brownie recipe I tried did not turn out too well. The brownies ended up being dense, crunchy, and not very chocolaty. And since I used oat flour, they sort of tasted like really bad oatmeal cookies.

However; being one to not give up so easily, the adventure will continue. I will explore strange new ways of baking, I will seek out new recipes and new ingredients, I will boldly bake what I have  never baked before.

Let's hope that it's yummy!

Where Are My Six Hours?

You would think that homeschooling two special needs children is very time consuming, you know, with the having to be responsible for all aspects of their schooling, their mothering, and the getting them to their various appointments, and you would be correct, it is time consuming. It's not just time consuming, it completely consumes you. It can consume you to the point that you forget you even exist.

Don't get me wrong, I loved homeschooling my children. By being with them all day long for so many years, I've come to know them and understand their challenges in a way I would have never gotten to know had they been in school for six hours every day. But I digress. The point I wanted to make was that now that my children are in a "brick and mortar school," I seem to have even less time. I'm busier than I ever was before.

What happened to the extra six hours a day I was supposed to gain by placing my children in a school outside the home? It seems that I spend all my time in the car, driving two children in two separate directions, driving them to two different schools,  getting them to their schools on time, taking them to separate doctors' appointments, taking them to all their various therapies, and picking them up from school on time, just so we can hurry back home, eat dinner, and spend more time driving around to their after school activities. And this is with just two children.

So, yes, although it defies all logic, I seem to have even less time now that my children are in school.

A New Chapter in My Life

With the new year, some changes have come my way.  Homeschooling children with special needs has taken a toll on me and on the entire family.  The burden of being the only one in charge of my children's education on top of all the demands of parenting special needs children was too great. Slowly, but surely, the Lord was guiding me down a different path.  One that would free me up to be a better mother, a better wife, and just a better person.  This month I made the difficult decision to place my children in what homeschoolers' refer to as "brick and mortar" schools.

This was not an easy decision, but it's the right one for us right now. So now, instead of homeschooling my children all day long, I'll be spending a large portion of my day driving them back and forth to their new schools. I'm sure that I'll be just as busy as I was before.