Wednesday, June 22, 2011

De Funk-de-fied

Hi. My name is Angela Kraber, and am in a funk. Hi Angela.

First off, let me apologize to you, all 11 of you, my faithful followers. I know you have been waiting for the next installment of my marathon saga...and I promise it is coming. This post will explain it's delay...

For the past week and a half I have been blah. Not angry, not really upset about anything, not mad...just blah. For those of you that don't know me, blah really isn't my thing. It's normal for me to lose everything under the sun, but my mojo?? I usually have that pretty well intact. But nope, for this past week it has been completely gone. I sat down a dozen different times to get out the story of the marathon, that in my head just days before was so perfect, and I got nothin'. So I just decided to wait. The thoughts would come back, the inspiration would once again appear, and I would be brilliant. Well at least my mom would think it was brilliant.

Then last night, I got terrible news about a dear lifelong family friend that had died. I broke down, and then I shut down. I couldn't understand it, I couldn't explain it, and at one point I didn't even understand the words coming out of my mouth as I talked to Mike about it. I went for a walk around the block, and then spent the next few hours, well into the night, just staring at the TV.

Today,as I went through the motions of my day, I was shut off. I put the kids down for a nap and I just sat on the couch. I didn't know if I was hungry, or thirsty, or if I should do laundry, or work. I just spaced out, again, and stared. Now I know that I am still upset about the awful news, but this was a funk in the works already...this is just what pushed me over the edge.

After a text from skinny Sandra about her great run this morning, I got up, poured a glass of iced tea, and the little light bulb in my head went off. Now, I knew deep down what was going on, but I wanted to avoid it. I know how I act when I am not running...hence I run a lot! The light bulb came when I pictured what I would say to Sandra if she were sitting on the couch feeling unmotivated and blah. I would tell her to 'suck it up Bredek, put your big girl panties on, and do something!' Motivation and inspiration shouldn't have to always come to you and find you when you need them. Sometimes you need to take the first step, get things going, and make inspiration and motivation on your own.

It really was just that simple. I needed to get moving, to get my blood pumping, and get a good sweat on just for me! I need to run dammit!!! I just needed to do it! I don't accept excuses from any of my clients...so I am not about to be the exception to my own rule.

So tonight, I put the girls down early- they were honestly running around like crazy- and I got out my Mama Wants Her Body Back Advanced DVD, and knocked it out. It was hard, but it felt great.

Now I am sitting with my mojo, having a glass of wine, about to check out raceplace.com to find my next race. My calendar is out and I am planning MY workouts.

Good-bye to my blahs...oh, hi there motivation and inspiration. How nice of you to join us!

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Marathon Part 1- The Teaser

It's hard to believe that the marathon was over 4 days ago. It's hard to believe that the goal I have had set for almost a year, was over and done with in the blink of an eye. I have been sorting through my feelings, emotions, thoughts, and remembrances of the race to set up for this post...and could honestly write an entire novel on this one event. So, I have broken it down...which means you know I think it's long because rambling on forever is kinda my thing.

I like to talk a big game. The more I psyche myself up about something, the more confident I become. If I say it out loud enough that I will kick ass during the marathon...pretty soon I would believe it too. But in all honesty, I was SCARED for this race. This race killed me last year...in more ways than one. Yes, I ended up in the hospital the next day having an emergency appendectomy, but that wasn't what I was worried about. I was worried because I remembered how terrible I felt by mile 19. I remember the feeling of defeat in my mind, body, and soul. I remember questioning if I could even finish. I remember the disappointment I felt as I watched my goal of a sub 4 hour marathon slip through my fingers. I remember how angry I was at myself for being upset at the end of the marathon for my poor showing, instead of rejoicing in the amazement of the accomplishment I had completed.

I had big plans for the week leading up to the marathon. Of resting and taking it easy, not drinking a drop of alcohol, and having a great easy 12 mile run to cap off my training and send me sailing into the marathon confident and prepared. Wow. I did none of that. And so began the week of mixed signals I got, causing me to doubt myself like you wouldn't believe.

I didn't get out for my 12 mile run on Sunday, because perfectly on cue, I got sick the week before the race. I was so stuffy, unable to breath, and feeling an immense amount of sinus pressure. I opted to wait a day on my run, as to avoid feeling like shit during the run, and hence giving me an icky feeling about race day. Well, I went out with Becky for our 12 miles on Monday morning, and I felt even worse. We only made 8, and I started to panic a bit.

Tuesday, the girls and I packed up and headed to the happiest place on earth to meet my brother and his family for a fun filled day. I didn't think much of it because we have a season pass and go often. What I forgot, is that his family was there just for the day, and of course had plans to be there as long as possible. Soooo, if you are wondering who the hell would walk around Disneyland, in flip flops, for 13 hours, half of it spent carrying a 2 year old, just days before running a marathon? The answer is: THIS GIRL! What an idiot. I woke up the next morning in knots. Now I was sweating.

Thursday night a dear girlfriend of mine had invited us on an all expenses paid dinner out in Hollywood. I couldn't resist for a million reasons, so on went my marathon prep week. We got dressed up...strappy heels of course, and headed up in a limo. Now I will say this...I told myself I wouldn't drink any hard alcohol...and I didn't! Which is crazy because for some reason my relationship with tequila is similar to that of an old boyfriend. you know the one who treats you like shit, but you forget about all the bad stuff the minute they smile at you? So I stayed away and stuck with champagne...and wine-several glasses. Ugh...maybe I should accidentally oversleep the morning of the race.

Friday actually starts off without a hitch...I'm not hung over, I see a client first thing, teach a stroller strides class, and head home to rest up and get all my clothes laid out for the weekend. I took the girls with me to my last client of the day so I could give Mike the afternoon to golf since he would be on single Dad duty all weekend. On the way home, I look back to see Emma throwing up all over herself in the car. Not exactly the most ideal way I would like to spend my last night before heading down to San Diego. Uh-Oh...do I feel sick?

With it all said and done, I was ready to leave Saturday morning. My backpack was packed and I had everything I could imagine. iPod, chargers, Gu, extra socks, Garmin and charger, motrin, etc. I kissed the family good-bye, and of course got a little teary eyed since I knew they wouldn't be there to see me at the end. I swung by Amy's and we darted over to Kim's to hitch a ride to the train station. We hopped in Jack's wagon, and for some reason I decided to hold onto my backpack instead of putting it in the back. And for another odd reason(maybe the reason that I know myself too well) I opened my backpack for one last check. Ooops...I didn't have my race day shirt. God help me.

We sped to my house, I sprinted in and grabbed it, and we made it to the train station with a few minutes to spare. As we boarded the train, I was already pitted out (that means sweating like crazy). Oh wait...I forgot to eat breakfast....awesome. The lump in my throat has now grown to the size of a softball.

To be continued...