Sharing this post from my friend, Jennifer, about her 5k this weekend. Read below and join in the fun!
Ladies and gentlemen, I’m here to challenge you! That’s right, YOU! I want you to get out your phone, pull your planner from your purse, go to the calendar on the wall of your office. Now, pull out a pencil, a pen, a marker or poise your finger over your screen to mark June 11 […]
via Makeshift 5k: My Challenge For You — Stellar Fashion & Fitness
Recently, my fashionista fab friend, Jennifer, asked me if I wanted to have a shopping field trip to my favorite store, Torrid. Let me preface this by saying I HATE shopping for clothes in person. I haven’t shopped for clothes in a physical store in years. As it happens a lot of time, when you are a big girl and the selections are limited, you want to go less and less. Add to that the feeling that nothing fits or looks right, and you pretty much want to bury yourself under your covers and never come out. But, women need clothes and I’m no exception. For me, clothes shopping is akin to going to the dentist – I never go with anyone because I don’t want them to see me cry, sweat, or scream and I get terribly overheated and come out looking like world’s largest radish. So, I browse and click from the comfort of my laptop and try things on privately in my home where I can prance and dance (or burn them) all in secret.
Poor Jennifer had no idea what she was asking when she extended the invitation. Since we are extremely close, I knew I could confide my apprehension to her and she would understand. And she did. But she also asked me to go because she knew I wanted help. I’ve told her more than once how much I love her style and how much I need some style tips and wardrobe suggestions. So, putting my fears and ill feelings aside, I agreed.
Still full of ickiness on Saturday when we met, I was soon at ease. She came in like a fairy Godmother – no kidding – bibbitying and bobbitying all over the store, gathering armfuls of clothes for me to try. Outfit after outfit went from her arms to the saleswomen to the dressing room. I went ahead to the room to mentally braced myself for trying on clothes in the store and in front of someone else that I knew. End result? No big deal at all! Jennifer put the cutest things together, was extremely sweet and supportive of all my insecurities, and quickly squashed any fears that lingered in the dressing room. I felt 16 again, giggling and trying on outrageous outfits alongside tasteful ones and even posed for pictures. PICTURES. AS IN EVIDENCE. AND MY SMILE WAS REAL IN THEM! (blackmail photo above)
She’s not a personal shopper by trade, but the girl has ALL the skills to be one and I know she’d love the opportunity to help anyone with tips and ideas. I asked her for shoe, jewelry, and outerwear advice along with the outfits we put together. We both left with some great outfits and I didn’t vomit. HUGE win. Because of Jennifer I can say with certainty that I will venture back into Torrid in the future to shop and try clothes on. Sometimes all we need is a fairy Godmother!
It’s no secret that I am in love with Birmingham. I dub myself “Birmingham’s Unofficial Cheerleader” (at least until they create the position for me). What thrills me to no end is that I’m not alone. Birmingham is a city full of love for one another. We have helped launch hundreds, if not thousands, of books, movies, businesses, incubators, and more just from supporting each other in our endeavors.
Take Carrie Rollwagen and Amy Bickers. Active members of the Birmingham community, they decided to launch Kickstarter campaigns to try and publish books that they wrote. Success! Completely crowd-funded books by local authors because Birmingham believes in its own. Another great example is Sidewalk Film Festival, a local independent festival that recently had its biggest year due in part to thousands of Birmingham believers shouting from the rooftops how amazing it is over the years.
On a personal note, I’ve found so much support in groups like See Jane Write and Birmingham Girls Club, created to help other like-minded women find and build their own tribe. For example, I’m sitting in a coffee shop right now with a room full of other women, blogging and writing. My blogging buddy, Jennifer, and I put the word out earlier this week that we were going to be setting some time aside to just work on our blogs this weekend and invited others to come along and here we are. This is the power of our community, supporting one another even with no words and just the clicking of keyboards.
I believe in Birmingham. She believes in you. Birmingham’s got your back!
Today kicks off one of my favorite times of year. November is #bloglikecrazy month over at See Jane Write and it’s always fun to get to know my writing sisters even better during this time. We strive to blog every day during the month of November.
I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve this year so I am really hoping to do it! With a month-long challenge for Birmingham Girls Club over on Instagram going on, as well as my own personal meditation challenge – a la Deepak Chopra – this will prove to be very interesting. But I think I can do it!
I’ll also be moving more this month, too, care of Jennifer over at Stellar Fashion & Fitness, SOL Dance Experience, and – hopefully – some swimming. We have the Mustache Dache coming up in a few weeks and I’d really like to participate this year if I can.
So, welcome to November and off we go! At least we got an hour back last night. 😉
P.S. Also, in a completely unrelated, yet hilariously funny side note, I accidentally had a few typos before proofing just now: “sleep” instead of sleeve above, as well as “medication” instead of meditation. I wonder if my body is trying to tell me something about sleep and medication. 😉
The title pretty much sums it up so that’s all there is to this post.
KIDDING! But that is what basically happened last night during the Foam Glow 5k at Talladega Superspeedway. Check me out trying to tell myself beforehand that I dance a few times a week (for fitness) and swim, so I can handle a measly 3.26 miles with no problem. HA!
I didn’t tell anyone about registering or going to the 5k in case I chickened out or, quite honestly, didn’t finish. I have amazing friends who run 5ks just for fun like Jennifer and Javacia and then other friends like Tanya and Mia who are beasts running marathons and ultra trail courses. They’re crazy, but inspiring. So, I kept my 5k a secret because I didn’t think it would be a big deal. Boy, was I wrong!
I have plantar fasciitis in my right foot so knew going in that it would be difficult; it’s what derailed me on last December’s Mustache Dache and I didn’t finish. But my heel felt ok (not great, but bearable), and I wanted to give it a try. I mainly went to glow in the dark (who wouldn’t???), but knew the exercise would be great for me. My husband did it with me and I am so thankful for that. I started off ok, slowly jogging for a bit at the beginning and then transitioning into a walk soon after.
The course was on the outside of the race track itself, going around the entire oval, and I never thought it would end. Every time I covered a distance, there was more stretched out in front of me. Then the thoughts started coming: “I could have sworn they said there would be a water stop 1/2 way?” “Surely we’ve gone over halfway and they just forgot it.” People around me were starting to murmur about a water stop. I stopped to rest and stretch my lower back which was tightening into a knot. Breathe, stretch, breathe. Ok, let’s go!
Two minutes later, ouch. I need to stop again. In my head: “WHERE IS THE WATER? WILL THIS NEVER END? Where are we? Why is it so hot?” Keep in mind, we had brought water with us so I wasn’t thirsty – just looking for that benchmark. Ok, let’s get up and keep going!
Wait, I need to stop again. Head: “WHERE, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY, IS THE WATER STOP? DID WE MISS IT? I think they forgot it. Surely we’re at least 2/3 of the way done by now.” I quit. I can’t do this anymore. I’m done. Here come the tears. “Are you ok?” from passersby as I sit on the grass and try to blend in the darkness. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you” while trying to hide my face and tears behind the giant Powerade Zero bottle. Safety truck guy comes over, “Are you ok?” Yes, I’m ok. “The ambulance is right down there and will be here shortly if you just want to wait on that.” Hubby: “We can wait for it if you want.” Bless him! Thank you for understanding and offering. No, I got this. Give me a second. Ok, let’s go!
Tears streaming down my face as I walk, limping, legs are jello and arms are shaking. “WHY IS THERE MORE FOAM? TAKE YOUR FOAM AND SHOVE IT UP Y….WHERE IS THE WATER STATION??” Another stop. Another cry. Another wipe of the tears and we’re off. I did that quite a few times before…..
LOOK! LAND HO! WATER! “Do you want water?” asks hubby. No I don’t want water! I just wanted to see the stupid thing! Wait, what? You mean we have ONLY GONE HALFWAY? Another stop on the side, more tears because I quit. I’m done. I can’t do anymore. I’m only halfway? I hate this. No more. “There’s an ambulance over there, let’s just make it there and you can ride back,” says hubby. Thinking about it. Debating in my head. Resting. Breathing. Trying to get my heart rate down to a non-newborn level. No, keep going. “Ok, let’s go,” (much less enthusiastic).
The rest of the “race” was a blur with people flying by on my left and right, cracks in the asphalt to watch for in the dark, music wafting here and there from somewhere, hubby constantly checking on me and stopping with me every few minutes because I “just can’t go anymore.” I think there were probably 2 more hours of that – I have no idea. Time and space were foreign to me by then. I was drenched, overheated, beet red, shaking limbs and body, couldn’t get enough oxygen in no matter how hard I tried, and my heart rate was off the charts. (I’m sure all of that is exaggerated somewhat, but the beet red face is completely true – picture at the bottom.)
I see spotlights. I hear music. It looks like a party, but I could be hallucinating in this pitch black desert. Headlights. People are leaving the track. Good riddance! You talk too much for those of us trying to keep our lungs in our chest. And the smoking DURING the race that I inhaled as you went by? I wanted to kill you.
The trucks are coming up behind us. The ambulance is passing us. OH MY GAWWW, I’M LAST! I DON’T WANNA BE LAST! But I’m doing it. I think I can make it. SO WHAT IF I’M LAST? I DID IT! Well not yet, but I’m going to try. Rounding the last turn, come around to the party, people are still walking between the cones. WHY ARE WE STILL WALKING? WILL THIS NEVER END? OMG, WHERE IS THE FREAKIN’ FINISH LINE? “Right there, honey. See it?” Oh, where all the lights are flashing and people are taking selfies. Ok. I can do that. A….few….more…..steps. BOOM. The earth shakes as I pass out. On the ground. And I wasn’t last (not that it matters, but seriously that was a secret goal of mine).
I have to give hubby MAJOR kudos for going with me, talking me through it, putting up with my tears, letting me hang off his back and shoulder when I could barely walk, and being there for anything and everything I needed. Thank you, baby!
I’m doing the Mustache Dache in December with a group. I’ll start properly training now so maybe I won’t cry as much during that race. 🙂 The point of the story, kids: Find someone who will let you hang on to them during a 5k and don’t ever let go!
