- Jessica Azar
Just got back from the Michigan Challenge Balloonfest (which is super sweet btw) so sorry for yet another late night post. I’ll be short and sweet and get straight to the winner which yes, yes I did let my 5 year pick at almost midnight. Somehow after a super busy day of running around she managed to stay awake for the entire car ride home which was anything but short. I figured since she was up she might as well pick the winner of the $100 GNC Gift Card and that winner is…
And yes, I do realize that is just a bunch of letters but that’s what this mystery person entered the giveaway as and that’s who the Little Miss chose. So congratulations lwknop!!! Please send me an email at firstname.lastname@example.org and I”ll fill you in on all the details.
If you don’t happen to be lwknop, don’t worry there’s still more goodies to win, check out my Crave the Cute Giveaway for starters and then swing by my Running Mamma Giveaway after that (although, no promises on that one. I may have already given away all I have to give, I haven’t had a chance to go back and count the entries yet.)
It’s so pitiful really. How soon one bubbly little butterfly of a 5 year old girl at her summer track program can be reduced to tears, sobbing, scrapes & blood that is.
Yes. We had our first major public athletic injury at the track meet last night. After an hour and a half of spinning, twirling, dancing, running through sprinklers (with that stinky egg smelling water-FAN. TAS. TIC.), holding hands, and oh yes, a few actual running or runningish type events thrown in there for good measure, things were going swimmingly. The Little Miss was ear to ear grins and fully confident she would be taking home a ribbon for something. She had no idea what, but just knew it would be something nonetheless.
Then came the last event. The 100 meter dash. I had moved from my perch near the finish line where I had been giving my best effort to entertain my two-year old, The Tiger. I moved partially because The Tiger was no longer entertainable, at least not in the confines of her stroller and a full out fit was nearly inevitable, but also because the Road Runners (the team name of the 4 & 5 year olds, although I’m not exactly sure why since I would hope not a one of them would be ever running on the road at this point. Maybe it’s a little more Wylie Coyotish? Do they even know that cartoon these days? They should probably be Baby Jaguars or something, anyhow…), they were getting a little antsy waiting for their turn at the final event and I thought a little more supervision, at least for mine, was in order.
At long last, The Little Miss took the ready position at the starting line. Ready position, as in the kind of ready position she’s supposed to get in for t-ball, squatted down a little, hands on her knees (maybe that’s what threw her off? No ball was hit in her direction). On coach’s command, she took off, giving it EVERYTHING she had. Unfortunately, about 10 steps in, everything she had with her upper body turned out to be much more than everything her legs had and she bit it. HARD.
Now, don’t worry too much. She was able to stop all that wicked fast forward momentum propelling her to the front of the pack. In an awesome display of toughness, she brought herself to a complete stop with…her face. But she did thankfully come to a stop eventually. But it wasn’t only her face that took the beating. Her hands, knees, legs, collar bone, and even her stomach all had some nice scrapes which we’d later discover after washing the track off of her.
And her brand new white running shirt I just bought her? Um, yeah. It pretty much looks like she went and laid under a four wheeler or something. It looks just exactly like a giant tire track down the front of her, might I repeat, NEW, shirt. For future reference, should you register your child for a track program that will take place on a black track and have the brilliant idea to pick out a nice new shirt for him or her to run in, if your options are black or white, the correct choice is NOT by any means white.
So what did my baby do after her major wipeout? She got right back up! (So proud) Sobbing, she started heading towards the finish line. Now, I’m not entirely sure whether or not she was heading down that way because she thought I was still standing there or because she just wanted to finish the race, but she had fallen pretty much right in front of me and I could see she had quite a bit of blood happening. So in an effort to both put an end to her misery and prevent her from freaking out when she realized she was bleeding, I hollered at her and waved her over. Her coach was nice enough to lift her over the fence to me so we could go get her cleaned up. “Oh man, that her hurt,” he said when he got an up close look at his little piece of road kill.
I left Tiger with my mom and took my beat up little princess to the bathroom by the hand, tears streaming down her face the entire way. Now, I’m sure it hurt. But she really only had two major concerns. One, she didn’t finish the race and get to help her team. And two, she wouldn’t get a ribbon for that race. **BEAMING WITH PRIDE RIGHT HERE FOLKS** I assured her that if we hurried and got her cleaned up, there were still a lot of kids that needed to run. Coach would probably give her another chance to run her race, but she’d need to stop crying because if she was still crying when we asked, he’d think she was still hurt and might not let her. And let me tell you something, if ever I needed a lesson in sucking it up, I got it right there! Hurt, banged up, snotty, sniffling, she found some way to stop crying. That’s how bad she wanted it.
Unfortunately, the weather had looked kind of questionable the entire time we were there. In fact, we started a little late because of some heavy rain just before go time. By the time my Little Miss & I got back out to the track, a mere 5 minutes at most later, the skies had turned to seriously threatening and Coach was getting sever weather alerts on his phone. He decided to call it and just in time. By the time my girls were strapped in their car seats a torrential downpour had hit. Needless to say perhaps, but The Little Miss was crushed.
So I did what any good mom would do at that point. ICE CREAM!!! We headed straight to the nearest restaurant and got her a great big gigantic banana split. I even let her suck the melted ice cream up with a straw at the end. Am I the coolest mom ever or what? At that point, I figured there’d be no salvaging the shirt so what the heck? Might as well let the girl have some fun in it. And because I know you all want to see the ice cream, blood, track covered brand new only worn for an hour or two shirt, here you go:
And as for my little champion. Here’s her pretending to be majorly injured this morning…
It’s not nearly as impressive now as it was last night when it happened and she was covered in black track soot (which was literally ALL over her, mixed with some blood on her face).
And here’s her proudly showing her “battle scars” which I told her proves she tough like a solider. She LOVES soldiers and man does she dig that!
So like mother (and father) like daughter. Both my husband and I had been known to fall a time or two at a track meet in our day. Me at my very first one, just like my kiddo. But I am entirely thrilled that it’s no skin off her back (it was her front) and she’s already ready to run another day. MY GIRL!!! Because what else can you do when you have a bad day? You pick yourself up and you go again and THAT my friends is an awesome lesson for her to have learned…as painful as it might have been.
P.S. Alrighty ladies and gents, I’m going all out and making this ANOTHER TWO POST DAY!!! You heard me right folks! ANOTHER giveaway is coming tonight and this one will have 20 winners! WOOHOO!!! Now don’t get too excited. It’s not like iPods or a free running shoes or anything. Actually, it’s rather inexpensive, but it’s super cool and you CAN NOT get it anywhere but here. They were all specially designed just for me and I’m THRILLED to get to share them with some of you all. So what the crack am I talking about? You’ll just have to pop back in tonight and see :-)
P.P.S. Time’s running short, real short, as in it ends tonight short on the $100 GNC gift card giveaway. Get in it while you still can! And while your scrounging around for some goodies, don’t forget to enter my Crave the Cute giveaway too!
So most of you know, I’m **sniff sniff** not running at all right now. I’m a big fan of women who keep right on running through their pregnancy, but for me a few little red flags early on with this one has me opting to slow down, waaaaaaay down and just play it safe (that whole story is right here if you missed it before and you’re interested.)
But in my dreams, I’m not only running, I’ve had a few very interesting running escapades, two of which in particular, seem to be popping up on a somewhat frequent basis. So, I thought I’d share. You all can feel free to give me your best psycho-analysis of what they mean (and yeah, I know they probably just mean I’m craving to lace up those kicks, but I’m sure you all have a much more creative humorous interpretation that will be fun for us all to read. So fire away).
Dream Numero Uno:
I’m breaking the news to some member of my family, my husband, my parents, my sister, someone. I’ve made this major decision. And by major, I mean big. BIG. The whole tone of this dream is, “Sit down. I’ve got to tell you something.” Basically, after giving it a lot of thought, I’ve decided I’m going to try out for the cross country team…at my local high school. Seriously. And no, I don’t mean I’m 15 or 16 again in the dream. I’m still me, 32 year old mamma of two with one on the way. In fact, my two kiddos are running around under foot the entire time I’m talking. The last time I had this one, my mom, after I tell her, in all seriousness says, “Honey, do you think that’s really going to be a good idea when you’re nine months pregnant?” At which point, my dreamself seems to be entirely confused for a few moments, then takes stock of her enormous belly and says, “I know, but I really think I can do this.” So lookout Eagles, you’ve got some mighty tough competition coming this fall.
I’m not pregnant anymore. I’m competing in some kind of endurance running event, which I initially thought was a marathon until the course winds its way to the side doors of a building. The doors lead into a locker room, “transition 1”, where I am supposed to change for the next portion of the race. Only there’s a problem. I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing on the next leg. I have no clothes to change into and I don’t have a transition area setup (which for everybody else is a locker). So basically I’m just standing there, watching everybody trying to figure out what I’m supposed to be doing, finally settling on the idea that I’m just supposed to change my shirt. (Why? No clue.) Suddenly, I find a locker for myself and grab a shirt. Then I run into a bathroom stall figuring I’ve already wasted enough time, I might as well take two more seconds to pee.
Upon doing so, I realize the ONE thing you don’t want to discover mid race has happened. Yep. I started my period. And to make matters worse, I’m entirely unprepared for this. No pads. No tampons. No nothing. Not even back in my magically appearing transition locker. And nobody else has anything either or at least they’re not sharing. So I did the one and only thing you CAN do in a situation like this….I woke myself up (HA! It was a dream remember. No sense running on your period with no feminine products if you don’t have to!)
So that’s them. And just for your background knowledge, I’m no stranger to weird dreams while pregnant. I can still remember being near the end of my first pregnancy and dreaming that I was in the hospital, but not a regular hospital. It was like a strange hidden secret hospital in the middle of a forest somewhere. Everything was white or metallic, futuristic and cold. The doctors were dressed entirely in white and spoke in strange accents. I don’t recall whether or not the baby I delivered was a boy or a girl but that was probably because I was distracted by it’s giant massive head, larger than a full grown adult’s, which was sitting on top of it’s perfectly formed, but teeny weeny body. And by teeny weeny I mean, about like the size of a quarter.
The child was also semi-transparent. The entire dream was about me trying to protect my weird alienish baby from some unknown but very real danger. It was so strange, but I’m pretty sure I was having that one b/c I was absolutely TERRIFED of delivering my husband’s child after being repeatedly warned by various members of his family about him having a giant head when he was born. TERRIFIED. (For the record, she did have a big giant perfectly round, non-coning head, but hey, I survived. I was even game for a couple more.)
As for these recurring running dreams, I don’t know. Anybody got any thoughts, dream analysis, wild made up interpretations? Or how about any weird pregnancy/running dreams of your own you’d care to share? I’m all ears…
P.S. Did you see? I’m giving away $100 GNC gift card. Click here for details.
P.P.S. Yes, Miss A I will (eventually)post a picture of me with the baby bump. In fact, it’s about time I gave you all a little update on me, baby and…um…friend(?) don’t you think?