Saturday, April 19th was the Salt Lake City Marathon. Along with — of course — the marathon, there was also a half-marathon, 5k, and a jaunty kids’ 1k. So of course I’m thinking sweet, an event for everyone in the family!

Jon had already signed up for the half-marathon weeks ago, and I went ahead and signed myself up for the 5k and the kids for the 1k. Then I sat down and started thinking hard about how exactly we were going to pull the whole thing off. Jon’s race started at 7 at the U of U, my race started at 7:30 at Liberty park, and the kids’s race didn’t start until 10 back at the Gateway. So, ummm…. hm.

Well the answer, of course, was my mom.  How many times do you find yourself in a debacle and the answer turns out to be your mother?

My mom was already playing host to my sister, Sam, and her boys for the week. So mom signed up Paige for the kids’ run, and Sam signed up Parley for the kids’ run. And then all of the kids had a sleepover at my mom’s Friday night. My sweet and crazy mom (with the help of my sister) then carted 5 kids up to Salt Lake on Saturday morning via Trax, the light rail system that my kids are completely freaked out over because of an unfortunate incident a few years ago when I tried to take Jachin, Zoe, and Paige all to the zoo via Trax and  left Paige at the U of U stop on the platform while the train rode on… but that’s another story. Saturday morning, all was fine with the Trax ride, and no one was left behind on the platform, chasing after the train with wild, crazy eyes and panicked screaming. Everyone arrived at the Gateway on time, in their t-shirts and runner’s bibs. Elmo was there… or so we heard. But with 600 kids and their parents, we never actually got a glimpse of him. Jachin was fine with that, as he actually “booed” when it was announced that Elmo would be giving high-fives at the finish line. I mean, come on… how baby-ish.

It was decided that I would do the 1k with the kids, because we wanted them to somehow stay all together with no one getting lost, y’know, if at all possible. So off we went. Small kids — who are unfamiliar with the idea of “thinning out” early in the race — went sprinting full speed. Kids were falling down everywhere. And of course, when kids fall, they don’t get up quickly and move off to the side to assess their wounds… they lie in the middle of street, screaming, while other kids continue to trip over the kids who have already tripped.

It was a party.

Paige fell over one of these screaming children, but I quickly picked her up and told to keep on keeping on. She was fine, and showed off her road rash in pictures at the finish line.  Creamies were had by all, and medals were awarded simply for finishing. Everyone was feeling pretty good about themselves.

Jon did fantastic in his race. We’re still waiting for the official “chip time”, but his self-time was about 1:43. Yeah… that’s nicely under two hours, people. He got a medal, too. The only one who didn’t receive a medal? Me. My 5k time was actually slightly slower than my 5k time from last month, but this course was a little longer. And a little uphill in some parts. And I wasn’t running with anyone else… I mean, other than the 2,000 strangers who were passing me… These are all the things I tell myself at night when I start thinking about my lousy time.

Fun stuff, though, racing. The kids have caught the bug, I think.  Jachin says he’s ready for a 5k now. Know that if my 8 year old beats me at a race, I will cry.

And now we are off for naps and ice.

Hello, lovely readers… you really are looking nice today. *wink and finger point*

I’ve decided to take a break from the blog. It would seem that my life has no balance, and the blog has been getting a disproportionate amount of time and energy. Time and energy that should be put elsewhere.  This probably seems weird since most of you are saying what time and energy? you hardly ever post?!? It’s a mystery, for sure. There is some sort of time/energy vortex that opens when I sit down and open up my blog. I sit for long periods of time, stewing and vexing, and then in the real world there isn’t much to show for it. (I request that some more scientific studies are done on this anomaly. But not by me.) I feel badly that there is time and energy being sucked from other areas of my life that deserve more attention. I’ve wanted to write “for real” for sometime, and if I would put as many words-per-day into my novel as I put here… well, maybe I’d be an actual novelist by now. Or not. Who knows…

So farewell for now, friends. If I can get it all together, get all my balls in the air, and then figure out how to get the blog back in there without all of the balls falling… well, that would be ideal, wouldn’t it? You can keep me on Google Reader, maybe I’ll surprise you sometime. For now, though, I’m focusing on family and other interests. I’ll still peek in on your blogs, though, from time to time.

Until we meet again…

I mentioned that last night I was on a roll with my YA novel (which I’ve been working on for 5 years). One thing about the story that has eluded me these 5 long years is the name of my magical world. For five, friggin years I’ve been writing and stewing, desperately trying to figure out the name for my fantastic setting. This morning, in the car on the way to school, I took my problem to the kids. I gave them a summery of my story:

“So guys, there is a princess from another world. It’s a magical world. There is a war raging between the races. Blah, blah, blah…”

(I didn’t really say the “blah, blah, blah”, I’m just trying to cut to the chase.)

Then I said, “I can’t figure out the name of the magical world, though. CS Lewis has “Narnia”, Tolkien has “Middle Earth”, the kids from “Bridge to Tarabithia” had Tarabithia… I can’t figure out the name for mine. What should it be?”

There was a pause from the backseat for a few moments. Then Jachin spoke up.

“What about ‘Baghdad’?”

I tried not to laugh. “Baghdad is a real place.”

“I know,” he said.

“And it’s not very magical,” I added.

“But there’s a real war going on there, and you said your story has a war in it.”

“True. Good point.”

Then Zoe spoke up. “What about ‘West Coast’? Is there a real West Coast?”

“Yeah,” I said. “It’s California.”

“Oh.”

“What about ‘Art Class’?” Jachin threw in.

“Art class?” I asked.

“Art class is magical…”

Then we passed Cortland Ridge Condominiums.

“What about ‘Cortland’?” Jachin asked.

We passed the drugstore.

“What about ‘Walgreen’s’?”

So….. I’m still sitting here thinking about it. It’s already been 5 years. No rush.

Earlier today (it was a beautiful day) the kids played “pirate’s lair” in the backyard with a couple of the neighbor kids. I snapped a few pictures to illustrate what it looks like when kids play pirates in the ghetto, with no real toys when using their imaginations.

Zoe and fellow “good” pirate, Sean, used the deck for a lookout:

Items needed for pirate look-out:

*A barstool for makeshift eagle’s nest.

*Old viewmaster = pirate binoculars.

*The hammer (which they had just finished using during a rousing game of “break rocks on the sidewalk”…) was the pirate weapon of choice for their team. I stressed that the hammer was for display and intimidation only. No “bad” pirates were to be chased with the hammer.

*A flower, to spruce up the joint. Pirate lookouts can tend to be drab.

Next, the passageway to the pirate lookout must be riddled with booby traps, to throw off the opposing pirate crew:

Good items for booby traps: an old glove that was finally uncovered after months of being buried under snow, an old kitchen rug, a pink Barbie garden trowel, and an orange soccer cone. Gets the bad guys every time…

And for the main event, the “bad” team’s pirate ship!!

Because in the ghetto when using your imagination,

rusty wheelbarrow + soccer goal = kick ass pirate ship.

Arrr, mateys… that’s how we roll…

It’s a party around here. Here in our house we celebrate Suz’s “Semi-Annual Ugly Days”. (Those of you who know me in real life know exactly what I’m talking about.) Twice a year (early spring and early fall) my body goes through some sort of horrific flux. I don’t know if it’s climate, allergies, hormones, or a combination of all, but my whole self turns all decrepit and yucky looking. My face and scalp are plagued by seborrheic dermatitis, which makes the skin both scaly/dry and oily at the same time. It’s impossible to cover it with makeup, and it frickin hurts. I get red rashes in the corners of my eyes. My scalp itches and bleeds. Plus, I break out. Big time. Zits spread out like mountain ranges across my jaw line and chin. It’s even more fantastic than it sounds…

This year, to accompany the usual array of maladies for my Semi-Annual Ugly Days, I was also hit with the cold sore from hell. It set up residence in the corner of my bottom lip and slowly took over like it owned the joint. Jon looked at me this morning and said, “Did you have Botox injections in your lips?” I said, “It’s not Botox, it’s collagen… and no. It’s the frickin cold sore.” I have what looks like the “trout pout” that celebrities get when collagen goes horribly wrong. Today, I stood in front of 30 kids, teaching them about Easter, and watched two-thirds of them staring at my lip while I talked. (The other third were staring at the scales, rashes, and zits.) The celebration really seems to be stretching itself out this time around. What usually only lasts a week or two is stretching into three… and there is no end in sight.

I’m planning ahead for this fall. My idea is to expand the festivities for the “Semi-Annual Ugly Days” to include pony rides, funnel cakes, and possibly a 5k. Also, there may be t-shirts and a live band doing 80’s rock covers. Tickets will go on sale starting in early September. Buy early, they go quickly!

(no pictures on flickr, for obvious reasons.)

In the hopes of hurrying the warm weather our way, I’ve been browsing online for new swimsuits. Every site I’ve been on has showcased the same disgusting new swim trend:

The “Monokini”. 

No, I didn’t just make that up. That’s what it’s called. The Monokini is what happens when you take an otherwise standard one-piece swimsuit, fold it up a few times, and then hand scissors to a small child, instructing them to fashion the swimsuit into a snowflake pattern.  Voila…

… The Monokini. This is Target’s horizontal stripe version. Horizontal stripes aren’t for you? No worries, they also have it in slimming plaid:

Now you’re thinking (or hoping) that this is just an isolated case of Target making really gross fashion choices… but no. Here’s what Victoria’s Secret had to offer:

Yeah, you saw it. Zebra.  A little too rumble in the jungle for ya? They also have something in all black. But what it lacks in grotesque pattern, it more than makes up for in grotesque cut:

The winning swimsuit, though, comes to us from Venus Swimwear:

…because at least it’s green. If I’m resigned to wear something that actually showcases my love handles, it should at least come in my favorite color. Green brings out my eyes. And when I wear this, I want people looking nowhere else but the eyes. And here I was really hoping that tankinis and capris could somehow stay in style forever…

Zoe loves to make drawings for people. She is constantly handing me her homemade cards and pictures and paintings. They almost always have “To: Mom, From: Zoe” written somewhere on them. Here is one she gave me the other day. It’s of the Mystery Inc. Gang.

It’s a good likeness, right? I mean, right down to Velma’s sweet orange knee highs. There are several things about this picture that I love:

1) Daphne is more “apple” shaped than Velma, which is refreshing. Velma was always getting the shaft, being the “brainy” one instead of the “hot” one. Velma’s even showing a little more leg than usual in this picture. You go, girl.

2) There is no denying the “stoned” look in Shaggy’s eyes… I mean, they actually look like groovy disco balls. After thirty-five years, there is no longer any question about why he always had the munchies. And it even looks like after several decades of this sort of bodily abuse, his metabolism is finally slowing down. I see an intervention in his future, and it may involve Dr. Drew.

3) Scooby looks surprisingly happy and excited about the current creepy mystery, instead of looking like a frightened pansy. And there aren’t even any Scooby-Snacks in sight! Way to grow a pair, Scoob.

4) Fred looks kind of tiny and wimpy, without a trace of barrel-chested manliness. In fact, it looks like Daphne could crush him with one large, puffy, orange hand. Maybe Daphne can save Fred this time around, because — honestly — I was really getting sick of his know-it-all, macho crap.

It’s the children of today who will continue fixing the crap we poorly threw together yesterday. Constantly making things better. And I’ll continue blogging it for posterity.

Yesterday I got an email from my BFF, Diana, telling me that it was “$2 Tuesday” up at Classic Skating. So yesterday afternoon the kids and I headed up to Salt Lake to do some roller skating with our sweet friends. Having hung out at “StarLand” skating rink in Hagerstown, MD. for years as a kid, I was excited to show my kids my mad skillz on skates. Little did I know that roller skating is NOT like riding a bicycle, in that if you forget how to skate, the knowledge doesn’t necessarily come flooding back just because you lace on a pair of skates 20 years later. I laced ‘em up, stood up, and almost took out the picnic table (which, thankfully, turned out to be bolted to the floor) and the Skee Ball machine (which, thankfully, turned out to weigh just a tad more than my flailing body).

I rented the kids some fluorescent skates at the rental counter. Zoe got a nice pair of flame orange skates and practiced going around in circles on the carpet. She did pretty alright, and looked super cute trying.

Jachin took one look at his four-wheeled nerdy skates and said, “What. Are. These?”

“What?” I asked. “They’re skates.”

“I am not wearing these things. I want roller blades… like Byron has.”

“Well, Byron has skated on roller blades before. You’ve never skated.”

“Mom, come on. I can do it.”

“Whatever…”

I checked my wallet for our current health insurance card (just in case…) and swapped the skates. He put on the roller blades and took off, never looking back. And while he did fall several times, he got back up immediately and kept on keepin’ on. He was a maniac… (reminiscent of him on skis last week…) After an hour or so, he discovered that there was a ramp on the skate track on the other side of the building.

“Mom,” he said, “there’s a ramp over there. I’m going to go jump it.”

“Huh? Whaaa…?” I put the phone number from the insurance card into the speed dial on my cell phone, and then booked it over to the ramp with my camera in hand… to film either his first sweet jump, or his first broken bone. Either way, it was worth capturing.

His first try was okay, but he was lacking speed. He got half way up the ramp and then started rolling backwards back down the ramp… He decided to try it again, with a little more speed:

No broken bones, no drama. Just a kid who will try just about anything. And he doesn’t give up easily when it’s something that he really wants. There are a lot of “$2 Tuesday”s left in the year. He’ll get it sooner or later.

Now roller blades are on his birthday wish list, along with the usual list of video games. I kept the insurance number on speed dial, just in case. But honestly it’s more for me than the kids. Because the kids aren’t the ones who almost took out half of the tables and arcade games while just trying to stand up…

The 5k is finished, and yes, I finished it! And in a respectable time, for my first race. Not any record-breaking, medal-winning time, mind you. But respectable: 33:16

I discovered that (for me) the trick to running faster is to run with someone beside you; someone who will shame you into running faster and longer. I ran beside my sister-in-law, Kim. And while my training had consisted of alternating between one minute of running and one minute of walking, Kim just runs. And although this was also her first 5k, well, the girl runs better and longer than me. So there I was, running beside her, thinking man, I don’t want to be the one to stop and walk first… But of course I was the one who stopped and walked first, but not before running the longest stretch of my life. I found out that trying to keep up with a pack makes me faster and better. I finished a good 10 minutes ahead of what I was afraid I’d finish.

Jon (who finished in 20 minutes and a few odd seconds, and placed 11th overall) crossed the finish line, got his bottle of water, and then ran back to find me… with camera in hand. I tried to smile and act like it wasn’t such a big deal, that my legs weren’t just moving back and forth of their own accord… but, well, they were. I was pretty tired. But he clicked some pictures of me running my first race. (So there are some really unattractive, sweaty pics of me up on flickr, if you really want to look.  I discovered during this, my first race, that I am a very unattractive person when working out.)

I may be hooked on this whole 5k thing. I loved the whole goodie bag perk with the race tshirt, which I can now wear around like I am a totally serious runner person.  I loved the free breakfast afterward, with the orange slices and raffle prizes. It’s a really fun atmosphere. And though I will never in a million years “place”, staying in decent enough shape to run three miles every few weekends seems like a good thing to me.  There are supposed to be official pics of the race posted here in the near future. I know there is at least one of me and Jon warming up, pre-race (before it got really ugly).

I think it’s important to note here that my hubby was robbed. Somehow, they did not get his age entered in properly, so he wasn’t included in his age bracket results. He should have placed 2nd in the 25-34 Men’s group… but he will have to go to the grave without his just prize! (I think the prize for second place was Jazz tickets, and he has season tickets anyway… but still. I felt bad that he didn’t get the recognition.)  Complete race results are here.  You will have to scroll faaaaaar down to find me… and you probably have better things to do with your time.

Thanks to all of those who wished me happy birthday wishes. It was a good day. And I didn’t die, so sorry… none of you can have any of my stuff yet. (Sorry Kate, I’m keeping my bike for now… and I even got a new basket for it for my birthday!)

Tomorrow, my 32nd birthday, may in fact be my last day alive upon this Earth.

For tomorrow morning I am running my first 5k.

And I haven’t really trained so much, except that I try to flex my abs while doing normal daily tasks (like drinking a glass of milk, or doing laundry)… to try to maintain some core strength.

And I tend to be sort of all-around lazy… like even when I write I use a lot of ellipses to show that I’m too lazy to finish a thought…

Plus, also,  been known to hit what runners call “the wall” while covering the distance between my bedroom and the garage door. And my house isn’t even all that big…

So good bye, friends.  I have already bequeathed my Star Trek Movie collection to my bff Diana, in the event that it seriously only takes 3.1 miles for me to kick the bucket. The rest of you can fight over my stuff by sending lots of inquiries and requests to Jon. He’ll like that. He’ll appreciate the correspondence in my absence. If you could make your letters really sarcastic and obnoxious — which is how I would write a letter — he’d probably really like that, too.

hugs and kisses,

Suz

xoxoxoxo

ps- In the event that I don’t die, I’ll post tomorrow with pics and maps and all sorts of fun stuff. Maybe. Or maybe not… cuz it IS my birthday, after all, and hopefully I’ll be out doing something fun. And being not dead.