Amateur Diagnosis

The weather yesterday and today meant driving with the windows down: Sunny, calm, and warm. The kind of warm that starts on your skin and seeps into your blood, bones, and heart. The kind where you sit in the car when you first get it in without turning it on, just to feel it. Thankfully, I had a pressing errand requiring me to make a quick trip to the post office, so I was fortunate enough to realize just how gorgeous it was. I immediately thought, "I love how I feel, and I want to share it! I should blog about how beautiful it is right now." Which, to be honest, has been somewhat of a novel thought for me over the past couple of months (if you couldn't tell, I wasn't really up for the task this winter). Then I realized it - just like my pal, Heather, wrote in this post, I must have seasonal affective disorder, aka the winter blues. Don't get me wrong, I love Christmas and will sing carols with the best of them from Thanksgiving on in, but the cold weather and short days really drag me down. I bundle up, don't go outside, don't exercise, and eat lots of carbs (sounds like fun until your pants become snug, get a tummy ache, and you are on the verge of scurvy).

So with that, once I returned to the office ten minutes later, I immediately nixed plans to take a lunch break indoors with a pal. Instead, I switched to grabbing a quick bite at my desk in order to head out for a little run in the sunshine. Fate definitely had this in store for me: I had appropriate workout clothes in the trunk (not leggings, but shorts! And socks! Which I normally forget), and a towel left in the locker room at work. Hooray! The stars aligned in my favor.

I pumped up my almost-forgotten running mix and hit the road. Needless to say, it was a euphoric 3 miles. Each song on shuffle was just right, and my muscles squealed with joy at such a foreign feeling (no elliptical or walking, no indoor workout DVD; just pure, unadulterated movement soaking in the Vitamin D). I returned with rosy cheeks, crazy hair, and a glow. Perfect.

Then I checked the weather for today - just the same, but warmer! I couldn't be more happy. To be sure, I made plans to bring back my gear for round two, and did just that. This time I had no head phones, but a co-worker. We had the birds chirping, and the sky was so bright and clear that we noticed buildings from afar through the still bare trees.

It felt good to get back the runner's high (and while I know it isn't the runner's high you get when you run a marathon or something, it was adrenaline and blood pumping enough for me). I don't dare to look at next week's weather report, because I know this is a small February miracle and I want to enjoy it as much as I can.

So with that, I knew. I knew I was not a winter girl, but a diagnosable spring one. One ready for sun, blossoming plants, and new adventures.

Amateur Ragnar Relay Runner

About a month ago, Scott and I received a random message from our friend Richard. The message was a little hazy, something about late notice, a race lasting 24+ hours, 12 runners, 36 legs, and a reflective vest. Needless to say, we hemmed and hawed a bit. Scott needed to do a single looong run for his marathon training; I planned on going to SunFest in Ocean City with my MIL. It didn't look like it would work out.

The next day we got a desperate text, and before I knew it, Scott committed us to the race in a three-word comment on Facebook (my husband is a man of many words). A week and half later, we found ourselves standing in the chilly morning air of Rocky Gap National Park with a hundred other crazy people. Time flies when you have no idea what you're getting yourself into.

With that as some background, I'd now like to tell you a story. A story of 197 miles, a giant white van, and six people, two-thirds being complete strangers.

First, the van. The back bench was for sleeping (aka my bench); the front bench was for recovery, complete with baby wipes and tennis balls (aka the grossest); the front passenger was the navigator; and whoever didn't fit any of those roles got to sit in the middle. Most notably, the van did not smell good.

The key to this story are the six Dental Runnin' Rammers runners the van carried:

First, Richard, aka "Pepto." Our fearless leader, runner number six, and owner of the much-coveted captain's shirt. I can't think of a better guy to wrangle up a team. He also completely schooled his last leg, setting a PR. 

Then we have Heather, aka "the volunteer." The leader's other half and the only one from our van to take on another leg (our team only had 11 people, not 12, so three people had to pick up extra legs). I'm pretty sure Heather had another nickname, but it escapes me at the moment. Heather was also runner numero uno and rocked it like a hurricane. Basically, she's my hero.

This is Spencer, aka "VERY hard." Spencer was runner number three. The first leg for this runner had difficulty ranked at the hardest level (very hard). To be sure, we didn't forget it. Spencer was also our videographer and drove the giant van like a champ. His past life working for the UPS definitely came in handy.

Now for runner number five - Josh, aka "The Pecerciser." Although the Ragnar had people from all walks of life, most people were pretty hard core (present company included). The hard core dudes typically ran sans-shirt, and not even a blind man could ignore the -1% body fat on these guys. Whilst driving by one particularly cut runner (you could seriously see how this guy's muscles worked. It was like watching a Discovery Channel special on the human body), Josh commented that this was the kind of guy his wife dreamed of. The ultimate pecerciser.

Then there was runner two, Scott, aka "the Hulk." Seriously, you don't want mess with this guy; just look at that mug! Scott's hulk-ability was so intense that not even his own toe nail could keep up. I can't lie, he totally killed it. That black little piggy did not go to market, but stayed home. It couldn't handle the hulk-ness of Scott overtaking the Ragnar.

Finally, there's me, yours truly, aka "livin' on prayer." I was the fourth runner. Right around the beginning of the race, I mentioned we should have a quick prayer. Then just before my second leg (around the o-dark-thirty of night), I asked Scott to say a prayer because I am deathly afraid of the dark. I kid you not, my most-hated household task is turning off the light before bed. My adrenaline rushes like no other, and how do you expect to fall asleep with nerves running like crazy? 

Any way, back on track: my third and final leg comes up, just before the dawning sun. This time, I say a desperate prayer for motivation. Even though I probably (definitely) slept the most (another nickname could've been sleepy - the most repeated phrase was probably "yeah, Mary's still asleep back there"), I was struggling. My mental and physical wills were shot. Six miles and a couple of hills stood between me and the sweet comfort of a very smelly van. Those six miles may as well been 50. 

Yet, I said the prayer and my teammates pulled me through the entire way. God granted me with incredible motivation in the form of five very cool cats. 

The Ragnar is probably one of the coolest things I've ever done. I mean, I've done a lot of cool stuff - like band in high school, or wearing pajamas all day - but this completely takes the cake. While Richard may have gotten other people to do it if we skipped out (actually, he probably couldn't, but nonetheless), I'm glad he asked us. I can't think of a better way to spend a weekend (except for maybe at a spa... but I digress), than with a group of hilarious, supportive, stinky, sweaty, and sleep-deprived friends, both old and new.

So who is in for Ragnar 2011? All the cool kids are doing it (even the ones with their eyes closed; sorry, Rich. It was the only group one I had).

Amateur Bystander

Whilst running earlier this week, I was fortunate enough to run by two dead animals. At first I thought "this is not a good sign," followed by "these things come in threes; ugh, what is next?" I think the third thing may have been that a building I passed just put down fresh mulch so it smelled like poop. Good times.

Any way, a totally extraordinary event occurred to redeem all these bad omens (which made me think I may end the run with a massive heart attack and join my little animal friends). As I was finishing up by heading NE on Riva, an older Honda turned left out of the community aquatics center, across the street from yours truly. Unfortunately for the Honda family, they left their swim lesson garb on the back of their car and it flew all over road. Fortunately for the Honda family, I am a kind stranger, and always looking for a decent reason for a walk break. They turned into a nearby parking lot up the street while I gathered goggles, soaking trunks, goggles, and the like. The Honda Family man (who didn't speak very much English, I think... but donned some sweet silver braces) graciously accepted my returning of swim goods with a nod. Needless to say, I still feel pretty awesome about my completely random act of kindness. Good karma: 1; bad karma: 0. Bring it on!

On another bystander note, I saw the first fireflies of summer while walking the dog last night. All I can say is that it was magical.

So, what random acts of kindness have you committed lately? Seen any hints of summer yet?