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Losing it

I so wish this post was about losing the holiday pounds but alas, it is not. It is about me being a dumb-ass. I’ve lost (and lose) many things; my sanity, my temper, my patience all being high on the list but I don’t lose material objects. That’s not to say I’ve never lost anything tangible, I’m still mourning that cute sweater and dress I left in that Vegas hotel room 12 years ago (and no, it’s not a what happens in Vegas story, the clothes were hanging in the closet and I just forgot to pack them). But I digress. I’m good at keeping my wallet, my shoes, my lipstick, my glasses, my keys – you name it – where I can find them.

Until yesterday.

Crusher and I were heading for a trail run but stopped at Petco to get dog food first. All good. Quick trip, dog and dog food loaded in the car. And then I can’t find my car key. Anywhere. And when I say anywhere, I mean I even crawled under my car to look for it. It was truly the mystery of the vanishing key.

A woman parked next to me helped me look around the car and as she drove off, left me with this parting gem, “You know, when you stop looking for it you’ll find it”. Helpfully unhelpful, thank you very much. Like I didn’t already feel stupid.

I called hunky hubby but he had gone surfing, and was not close enough to help. After my initial annoyance passed, I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I am capable and was going for a run anyway. It all comes back to the concept of making lemonade.

So I got the dog back out of the car, grabbed a bottle of water, my house keys (could you imagine if I had left those in the car) and took off running. It’s only about 2.5 miles so it didn’t take forever. Once home I got my extra car key, hopped on my bike and went back to my car. A dude hanging out by his truck in the parking lot (I didn’t ask) helped me load my bike in the car and when I got home and tried to open my tailgate, it was stuck.

I drive a Volvo XC90 and the back hatch is split into a top piece and a bottom piece so it opens wide. Somehow my key had slipped under the bottom half where it bends to connect to the car. While I was driving it must have loosened and lodged itself in the joint (for lack of the proper word, though I’m sure some car-guy or engineer knows what it is really called) that makes it close and got stuck.

After a  little maneuvering, I was able to jiggle it out, get the tailgate open and recover my key. Thank goodness.

It wasn’t the workout I had planned, but it was a workout, so I’ll take it.

What is the dumbest thing you’ve ever lost?

gingerbreadmama

Nailed it!

My 5K was better than I expected, although it took us longer to get to the race due to road closures then it did for me to run it.

It was an extremely well-organized event, the weather was a perfect California day, the course was near the ocean and I ran it in 35:25, which is much faster than I expected.  Afterwards there was free food and free beer. Good times.

I feel good about it and I’m looking forward to running more.

My next 5K is this Saturday, and my goal to shave at least 25 seconds off my time. Run mama run!

gingerbreadmama

Run mama run

I used to run all the time. Long distances. I can’t recall when exactly I stopped doing that but I do know it was pre-ipod/small mp3 players and had something to do with me not wanting that much alone time with my angsty thoughts. So it must have been when I was in my 20s.

I’ve wanted to get back into running for a long time and on Sunday I am doing a 5K in Long Beach. I haven’t run a “race” since 2008 and truth be told, I walked a good chunk of it with my friend Kelly.

Gingerbreadmama and Captain Fussypants, 2008

I’ve been half-ass training for this upcoming 5K and I don’t feel completely ready. I realize it is only 3.2 miles and that this race is attached to a marathon and a half-marathon, which are considerably farther distances, so I shouldn’t whine about 3 measly miles but am feeling nervous about it anyway.

This one is called the Run Forrest Run, aptly named – they must have seen me coming – because me running is more like a jog and after the spectacular, inebriated tumble I took at the Blink 182 concert, wrecking my knee, I’d consider my pace to be just above limping.

But I’m lucky to have a circle of trust and in it a dear friend who embodies the word persevere, who asked me what my goal was. Without hesitation I responded, “To finish”. She chuckled and said, “Then you’re ready. And then you can beat that time in your next race” (because she knows I am doing the Chapman 5K less than a week later).

So here I am, two days before my race and I guess I’m ready.

gingerbreadmama