Run like a mama

My 10th half marathon: a flash mob dance, ice, chafing and my second almost PR of 2012

2012-01-30T05:52:00.003-06:00

I ran my 10th half marathon on Saturday, the F3 half marathon on the lakefront. 10th!!

Before I get to my race report, though, I gotta say, what a race. This is a newer, grassroots race put on by the folks at Universal Sole, a really cool running store on the north side. The organizers capped the race at 1,200, which is small for a Chicago half marathon. It was so great to run a race where it wasn't overcrowded. On an icy, windy January day, you're only getting folks who run hardcore throughout the winter -- my kinda people. Even during the race, at waterstops runners grabbed cups, gulped the liquid, and actually made a point to throw away their cups rather than toss them on the ground for volunteers to pick up. A great, great, great race vibe and kudos to the mysterious Kimberley who arrangds the race and whom I've never met. Yet.

Race morning began early because Baby C and little toddler man were both up by 6:30 a.m. The race didn't start until 10, which is super late for a race start and super late for me to start running -- I am a happy early morning runner. So I got to play with the kids, which was great since I'd been in southern California the previous three days for work. (I had the best sunrise on-the-beach run Thursday morning -- I was so happy I could have skipped my entire run!)

I did my usual glass of water and half english muffin breakfast. But I goofed in that I should have eaten more. More on that later.

At 8:50 a.m. my husband announced he needed to shower. I was all pre-race crazed, like, what? He showered quickly, no doubt seeing the crazed look in my eye, haha, but of course I was all manic driving to the race anyway. I got to the parking lot, texted friends and did a short sprint to find them. Some guy pulled into the parking spot next to me and hit my car, what the hell, and my first thought was "no time to swap insurance info!" Fortunately no damage. I glared at him and moved on.

The weather looked deceptively nice, really sunny and sparkly. But there was a sharp northwest wind that chilled me right away. I hoped my long-sleeve top and thin windbreaker would be enough for 13.1 miles.

We had about 20 minutes to kill before the race started, so we stood near a tent out of the wind a bit, and shivered and chatted. Suddenly a big group of runners right by us broke out into a flash mob dance, like on Modern Family for those who love that show (me!!). It was so funny. Man, they had obviously been practicing.

On to the race. I kind of had two races, by looking at my splits, which tell the story: 1:08 the first half of the race, 1:01 the second (!). The first half of the race we ran south. I'd guess at least 60 percent of that course was on crushed gravel topped with some mix of ice and snow. It was treacherous.Even the start line was icy and awful. In fact, the first mile and a half was ice, or some mixture of snow, ice, mud and slash. I think my first mile was at least an 11 minute-mile.I lost my friends immediately, I was so busy trying to navigate the messy terrain.

I caught up with one friend around mile 3 or so, and she said our other friends were up ahead. I kept telling myself, and her, that I was just going to try and run a good race but not really race. She laughed at me and told me to keep moving. Which I did. Darn running friends who know me well.

I was tired. And dehydrated. And already hungry because I hadn't eaten enough. Kind of a bad sign at mile 3 of a 13.1 mile race. Oh, and chafing in many uncomfortable spots, ouch -- forgot to use the BodyGlide again. Fortunately I had lots of sport beans which I really just suspect are overpriced jelly beans since they taste just like candy jelly beans. So I snacked here and there. When I got to about mile 4-5, there was ice again, lots of it. Man, I had to keep telling myself to spaz down and just run for the conditions. I had caught up to my other friends and passed them and was running about 10 to slightly below 10 minute-mile. Better. Until I hit that ice over and over.

My friends caught up to me and I got all competitive. My other competitive friend, Margaret, immediately said "You're not slowing down, we're speeding up." I haven't run with Margaret for very long but man, she's got me pegged. We all ran together for awhile and navigated more ice. Geez. I was sick of it already.

Finally we got to the turnaround point and headed back north, on mostly ice-free concrete, yay! Except that it was straight into a sharp, bitter northwest wind. It was exhausting. I'm like, why am I running this? I wondered what pushes me to stick with running, to run races when they're hard and tiring, and came up empty. I don't know why running agrees with me so much, but I felt so grateful that I found it and it's changed my life. Do I normally think about this stuff in races? No. I didn't have enough time to locate my stupid iPod so I had to kill the time thinking about something, haha.

I chugged along, keeping up with another pink Saucony-jacket clad woman I know, Kristan. I know she had just PRed at a half last weekend, 2:12, so I know she's my pace and I should keep up with her. Plus she appears to be a lot younger than me and I want to prove that I'm not such an old lady after all, as I stare down my 44th birthday awaiting me in March. We stayed neck and neck (is that the correct phrase? Too sleep to Google it) for miles. Later she told me she had the same goal, to keep up with me. Love it!

I got to mile 12 and damn it, realized I could PR (my best time was 2:09:22, set in October 2011 in Libertyville). Why doesn't this stuff dawn on me earlier in the race? I booked that last mile and crossed the finish line in 2:11. I had to wait a day before official results were posted. 2:09:25. I missed my PR by three seconds. Holy crap. But what I was really excited about was that great negative split -- the first half of the race was so slow because of ice, but the second half was on pavement and it was 95 percent clear, and I ran 1:01, which is fantastic for me.

This is my second near-miss PR for 2012. The other race I've run this year, a 5K on NY's day, I missed my 27:01 PR by 8 seconds because I had to stop and tie my shoes. Twice. So close! OBVIOUSLY I need to run another cold weather half -- I run well in cold weather. I'm gonna look for something in March! :) I'm open to suggestions, running friends!

Big boy potty

2012-01-20T06:05:00.000-06:00

Most mamas of wee kids I know can't wait to start potty-training and be done with diapers. My daycare and my online runner mamas group are filled with proud (and sometimes frustrated, if things aren't going quite so well with the big boy potty or big girl potty) moms crowing about how they got their little one to start pottying. I know moms who read books, devote entire weekends, and spend lots of time talking to other moms about strategies.

Not me.

Oh no, I'm not saying they're wrong.

Wait -- I forgot to mention the whole, and yes, I'll say freaky, diaper-free movement. Where you spend like, every nana-second, analyzing your baby's "cues" -- the thinking is that your baby is born potty-trained. I'm not making this crap up. Kudos to those crazy, er, dedicated moms who pull this off... but um, ok, back to what I was saying.

The little toddler man is 2 years 9 1/2 months. Some kids in his daycare his age are potty-trained already. I just let that news breeze by my ears. When I read online about moms who are like, aha, I got my kid trained at 2! I let that information just float through my brain and exit quickly.

Why? Am I just clutching these baby years because I am a sentimental older mama? Uh no.

It's because, I confess, I am lamely still traumatized from potty-training my college-age son. Who I'm sure would be delighted to know I'm blogging about his potty-training! Ha, take that!

It took FOREVER to train him. Everyone tells you boys take longer, blah blah blah. I don't care. It was so maddening. It seemed like we'd go thru a good potty streak and then bam, refusals to use the potty, tears (sometimes mine), tantrums and then we'd be back. Bribery! Candy! Anything! I'm probably not remembering this correctly but I swear to God, it took like, a year. OK, it coincided with a year that I was a divorced parent, but still. Trauma!

So the other week at daycare, the incredibly awesome workers who work in the toddler room have told me multiple times that the little toddler man is showing an interest and has even sat on the potty. After being told that a few times, and being asked if I want them to help potty-train him, I caved to their peer pressure, nervously.

I got my friend's hand-me-down Baby Bjorn potty out -- good lord, that thing is so cute, with its little boy splash guard and teddy bear decal.

We put it on the bathroom floor. Little M danced around it, played with it, chattering away about "big boy potty" and "my bear". That was a few days ago.

Last night I asked him if he wanted to go. He loves to sit on the potty now and chatter away, and last night he was on fire. He was telling me about how he could fly over the bathroom. He was quite entertaining.

Then, his face froze a bit, his dark blue eyes widening just enough to be noticed. I'm like, are you pottying? Are you pottying?

The chatter resumed, and he had no intent of getting off the potty. I was dying. No acknowledgement of if he'd done anything.

Finally! He got up! And holy moly did he pee! I wanted to run to Facebook and tell all my friends. Which I might anyway. YEAH!!!!

So, I'm not kidding myself that oh, he's all potty-trained now. (cue the maniacal laughing!) But oh man, what a very nice first step.

Now, about cleaning up after yourself...

Mama

2012-01-18T06:15:00.000-06:00

I love being someone's mom. I'm lucky enough to be three someones' mom.

This past weekend, I got a reminder of that. My daughter, Baby C, called me "Mama" for the first time. She's 10 months old. Sure, all three times she did it she was crying or generally distressed -- but who doesn't want their mama when things are rough, right? It was like being splashed by warm surf, calming yet invigorating.

Firsts like that fade easily. The toddler man is pushing three years old, and the first time he called me "Mama" has become hazy, I'm afraid, becoming buried by all of the firsts that have followed for him.

Mama. That thought got me to smile during a long, tough workday yesterday. :-)

Now she is hollering at me from her high chair. Back to work, mama!

Happy New Year -- a little ol' race report

2012-01-02T08:43:00.000-06:00

Happy 2012! I woke up New Year's Day not in a fog from too many libations but from little kids who cry out in the night. About 3 (4? who knows) I heard the little toddler man crying out. I drowsily headed downstairs and promptly slid down the very hard, unpadded oak stairs leading to the main floor. My butt-bone aches so badly. I did whatever it is I do to the kids in the middle of the night and went back up. Repeat, minus the falling down the stairs, a few more times.

This is after a really lousy, unsuccessful attempt to stay up until midnight. Before we had our little knee-knockers NYE was a big, dress-up deal for us. I loved all the hoopla. I even had a black sequined skirt. Now, I am a slug but my husband wants to have something special each NYE. With little kids I'm lucky to stay up until 10. Anyway, by 10 p.m. I was dying. Then we spent a bunch of time discussing how tired we are -- obviously, he wanted to stay up until midnight and I did not, so I win the "most tired" award. (Competition is good for marriage, right? Haha. ) I finally got to get into bed around 11:30 and at midnight he woke me up to tell me it was midnight. I love that he tries to make it special, but oh man, I will take a full night's sleep over anything these days. He would take a non-grumpy wife over anything these days, I'm sure!

So I got 5 1/2 hours of interrupted sleep and a stair tumble to prepare for my 5k New Year's Day morning. This is a recurring theme in my post-partum races. Sleep well? Hydrate? Bahahahahaha. That's hilarious. That is obviously for cupcakes, not running mamas.

The forecast for for snow/rain mix and 50 mph winds and the race is located on the lakefront. Awesome! The prediction suited my mood, complete with dark clouds overhead. I joined two of my girlfriends, one of whom met a new guy the morning of NYE and the other one who had just split from her boyfriend. The distraction was helpful as we exchanged NYE's stories.

We lined up to start the race. I wondered if I was the only non-hungover person and fantasized about PR'ing and placing in the top 3 in my age group (women 40-44). I've only placed once, in a small race in Omaha a couple of years ago. That's a lot tougher to do in Chicago, where there are just a lot of fast runners. Faster than me, anyway.

And we were off! I had some, er, raginess to propel me since I was so grumpy that morning. Not a quarter mile into the race, I noticed my right shoe was untied. Dork. Stop and tied it and sprinted back into the throng of runners, trying to spot my friends, huffing and puffing. A few minutes later my left shoe was untied. What am I, five years old? Now I was seriously pissed. Double dork. OK, shoe is tied and I'm booking. My butt bone is aching but I was trying to ignore it. Stupid stairs.

I crossed the first mile marker at 9:45 (from race start time, not when I crossed the start line) which is pretty good. I'm guessing I managed a 9 minute-mile-ish pace that first mile, which is not so bad considering I had to stop twice. The second mile I crossed at 18:30-ish, so a little under a 9 mm. Not bad. When I hit the third mile mark I see the clock at 27 minutes and change and I'm like, oh ****!! My PR is 27:01 and I'm in range! Darn it, why wasn't I pushing harder? I'm so darn tired but I ran as hard as I could that last 0.1 mile and crossed the finish before the clock can turn to 28 minutes. And did the lean-against-the-tree-thing and tried not to throw up. I always feel awful when I cross the finish line.

My chip time wound up being 27:09, just 8 seconds slower than my best 5k time -- 9th place out of 55 in my age group. Holy crap, I could have PR'ed if I hadn't had to tie my shoes. Twice. Oh man, I was annoyed but also elated, too. I am capable of running 3.1 miles under 27 minutes! In the big scheme of things that is not particularly fast -- respectable, but my teenager could run a 5k in well under 20 minutes back when he was doing cross country in high school -- but it is an awesome time for this 43-year-old mama.

The race held an after-party at a local bar. I usually rush home after races but I decided to grab a beer with one of the friends who also ran the race. She and my other friend totally stroked my ego when they told me that during the race I came flying past them post-shoe-tying and didn't see them. I was feeling all badass, for sure.

I am not much of a beer drinker. But when the race offers one free post-race beer, why not? The bartender told me the free beer was Miller Lite, to which I responded that there's no way I can drink that crap. I ordered a Sierra Nevada and he gave it to me for free anyway. Happy New Year's to this mama! Sometimes a good beer after a run tastes sooo good. Later that afternoon my husband encouraged me to take a nap and handled the kiddies. Lucky running mama!

Next up: half marathon Jan. 28.

M

600 miles!

2011-12-29T05:59:00.001-06:00

Howdy. I love yearends. I love that few people are at work -- I am, and I like it that way. I love that the Kennedy Expressway is empty. I love yearend "best of" and "worst of" lists. Even just setting goals -- if you want to call 'em resolutions, go ahead -- is fun.

A goal since I began running about five years ago is to log decent mileage each year and keep track -- learned that from a running buddy in Oklahoma. My sole, single goal in deciding what mileage to get to is that it has to be a round number with two zeros in it. I just can't end the year having run, say, 587 miles. It's GOTTA be 600. I also can't stand running, say, 10.6 miles, which I did the other day. Ugh, it just needs to be 10 or 11. I'm a former journalist/now communications person, not a mathematician. Even though I did OK in high school calculus. (OK, I admit, I got an A. But I hated it and forgot everything.)

I had the baby in March, so ramping back up is a challenge. Two years ago I had the little toddler man and had to cram in like, 30 miles in the final week of 2009 to get to 600. It's the distance between Chicago and Scranton, PA, Google tells me. I ran New Year's Eve morning and then had to go back out there early New Year's Eve evening to finish the final 7. My husband thought I was nuts. Obviously, he's the one who is nuts if he can't understand my round number logic.

So this year's goal was to match that -- it was tougher. Two little kids means some xx percent greater chance (told you I am not a math person) that one of them will get up in the night, making early morning running just that much harder to get up for. But, I had a fantastic running year, running PRs in the 5k, 8k and half distances, with no injuries other than some leftover mile sciatic pain from my pregnancy. I only feel that in yoga. I should figure out what to do about that in the new year.

So, next year's goals? Well... Chicago goes on sale Feb. 1! I mean, the Chicago marathon. I'm gonna run it this year. It's 282 days away! It was my first marathon, in 2007. I got injured with tendonitis three weeks before the race and wound up run/walking it. Then, about mile 18, the race was canceled because of heat -- it was a ridiculously hot October day. I've done a couple of marathons since elsewhere and been popping out babies in my downtime. I'm done having babies and ready to marathon again.

Oh, and a number goal? 1,000, of course. Three zeros!

Happy New Year!

Big-boy bed

2011-12-19T05:52:00.000-06:00

It's time for my monthly blog post. Seriously, I miss writing here. Not necessarily because I have really pressing things to share with the now 15 people reading this blog. I just love writing. I could go on about how busy I have been lately with the job, the kids, etc... but boring, who wants to hear about how busy someone else is.

Anyway. The teenager is home from college for Christmas break. I will not even go into his first-semester grades falalalalalalalala lalalalalaalalala. He and I popped over to Target to pick up a secret Santa baby gift yesterday for his 9-month-old sister's daycare. As we're looking at cute little kid toys, we both hear this loud woman say, and I am not making this up, "If you catch me shopping in the baby aisle, just put a bullet in my head." What made it even better was that she said the exactly same thing like, 30 seconds later.

She was older, like well into her grandmotherly years, and she was accompanied by what appeared to be her daughter, who was probably at least as old as me. The daughter pipes up, "Oh yeah, mine's 18, I'm so done, baby years are gone" something like that. And it's not like they're joking. There is a nasty tone to both of them. I looked at my 19 year-old son, who just helped me pick up diapers for his sister and his toddler brother, and we were like, what the hell? I told my son that I'm glad I didn't feel that way now that he was grown. I'd rather be sleep-deprived (yeah, I didn't see that curb at the gas station on the way to Target, oops) than be nasty and unpleasant.

Be careful what you yell out at Target. I will write about you. And since I've been awake since 4 a.m. this morning thinking about work, I will make fun of you because I feel a little meaner than normal.

Speaking of sleep, we moved the little toddler man to his first big-boy bed a week ago! Drumroll! Fireworks! It has gone pretty well, actually. The first few days were the best -- it's like he hadn't figured out he could just get out of bed and wander around the house. On his second night, however, I had just finished reading him 126,578 books and we had tucked in Lovey, Lamby, Glowy Seahorse, Alligator (a giant stuffed alligator about as big as him), his toy cars and some books -- did I mention that toddler beds are small and have crib-size mattresses?). I said OK, good night, and gave him a kiss. He sat right up, flung his legs over and down to the floor and said "I not going to bed." Haha. Last night he howled so long and hard I'm sure my neighbors thought I poked my kid in the eye multiple times.

The toddler is also going through a lovely hitting phase and likes to whack his sister. I gotta hand it to her -- she almost never cries. She just gives me this look, with her sweet round ice-blue eyes, like, "what's his problem and what are you going to do about this, mommy?" I wonder if they accept nine-month-olds into taekwondo? Am I even spelling that correctly?

Finally, a running note. I had one of my best runs on Saturday I've had in ages. I had planned to run 13 but am glad I stuck with 10. I was weary and anxious when I began. But it was the first real snowfall of the season, and it snowed softly throughout the run. It was magnificent. We ran by the spot I got married, along the lakefront, 8 1/2 years ago. I came up with the perfect Christmas present idea for my love while running. That's what running is for me right now. Sure, I've got a couple of races I'm running in January, including a half marathon at the end of January. Yes, outside in Chicago, for those who are wondering. But right now, I'm running to give myself a break, to chill, see friends, and figure things out. Running, as always, continues to help me do that.

Now, if I could just sleep through the night...

When your kids are 18 years, 5 months and 1 day apart

2011-11-27T06:24:00.000-06:00

Remember coming home as a freshman from college for Thanksgiving break? It's the first major break and if you've traveled any distance to college, you know it's likely the first trip you've even made home since escaping to, er, leaving for college. I remember I had this soft, very fuzzy blue sweater and fitted black pants that I loved to wear about that time. I remember my roommate, Carlene, and her awesome family visiting that first semester I'm pretty sure they brought food. I remember gaining 25 pounds. I remember going home and feeling "different" and wondering if it was palpable, or in my head. Did I even smell different?

So the teenager came home from Iowa City on Tuesday. He's still here. I confess I was nervous. He's a good kid, but high school was a bumpy ride. Would he just want to be out all hours and defiant about house rules? Would he have an attitude?

He's been great. And super helpful with the little toddler man and Baby C. Because her biggest brother has been gone much of her eight months on this planet, Baby C had no clue who this grinning 19-year-old was at first. Those first couple of days, she stared at him a lot, and then her face would crumple and she would cry and reach out for daddy or me. Poor kid, stranger anxiety is serious business. Now she is flirty and giggles as she looks to see if he's looking at her.

So I have had a secret fear. And I had it when the teenager was living here before high school graduation last spring. When I'm out in public with him and one or both of the little ones, sans my husband, I always wonder if people are drawing conclusions that 1. I am the grandmother and he is the baby daddy or 2. that I am a pervy cougar and he and I are, um, together. I'm 43 and he's 19. Ick.

So, getting back to this Thanksgiving break: we went to Old Navy on Thanksgiving. I never, ever shop on Thanksgiving and felt kind of dirty about it, but man, they had a good denim sale. I took the teenager and the baby. While I was grabbing some jeans to try on, big brother was entertaining Baby C. A woman who worked with the teenager awhile back saw him and said hello, and asked if that was his baby. (!) OK, I can see why she might ask.

But, then, the teenager and I took the little toddler man yesterday to one of those chain places to get his hair cut. Toddler man was NOT happy and as he sat in the salon seat sobbing, the teenager and I went to work trying to distract and soothe him. At one point, the stylist said "OK, daddy, why don't you move over here?" The teenager and I just looked at each other. And I'm thinking, does she think I'm the grandma? I of course corrected her immediately and gave her more information than she probably needed about the ages of my kids and that I just had a baby in March, etc. etc. But man, I could not let that stand.

After all, this blog is not called Run Like A Grandmama.

Race, race, race

2011-11-14T21:04:00.000-06:00

It is ON in my house. I mark three months in my new, very busy job tomorrow. The kids are growing like little adorable weeds, with the little toddler man now 2 1/2 and moving and talking every second he's not sleeping -- or, lately, glued to Dora the Explorer. Baby C is eight months this week and is just the sweetest little thing, from the coy hide in mama's shoulder thing she does to her attempts to "share" the toddler man's toys. Little TM hasn't gotten the memo yet that he's not an only child.

We women wanted to have it all, right? I am blessed that I have gotten everything I wanted -- the challenging and fulfilling job, the beyond-cute kids and, oh yes, a running season that is inexplicably going fantastically. My hub can attest that I'm a tired grump at night, but I'm a happy grump, which only makes sense to me, probably.

Such is the busy-ness that I didn't even get to post a one-year anniversary of my layoff a few weeks ago -- because I was working off and on all that weekend. Appropriate! Love it. Who needs to read that deep insightful crap anyway.

I'm pleased to have managed to get three runs in each week, for a measly 16 miles a week total, but I've been somewhat consistent and I try to do something resembling speedwork on my solo short runs.

So I've stumbled upon, running-wise. I've done a half, a 5k and a 10k race this fall and PR'ed in the half and 5k! The 10k I ran with a friend and ran it for fun, so my time was no great shakes. Each time I didn't get a full night's sleep before -- thank you, little cutie-pies, and yet rallied for good runs. I have no idea what that is about. I've heard similar stories from other running mamas.

When someone figures out how that can be, please let me know.

Photo finish: Woman gives birth after running (and walking) marathon

2011-10-10T11:55:00.000-05:00

Photo finish: Woman gives birth after running (and walking) marathon

Can't beat this one.

Half marathon report

2011-10-10T09:03:00.000-05:00

This was my first half marathon since having Baby C in March.

I ran the Prairie State half in Libertyville (northern Chicago burb) on Saturday and got a PR (personal record) of 2:09:22. It's a nearly 3-minute PR from the 2:12 and change I ran at the North Shore half (also Chicago burbs) in 2010. (Hmmm, I think I see a Chicago burb/PR theme here... maybe I need to leave the city for races more often!)

Longer version: Leading up to the race, I kept thinking I wouldn't be in PR shape. My "training" hadn't really been training, just more like post-partum comeback running. Baby C will be seven months next week, so I was trying to be realistic.

But I secretly did want a PR, so I'd been trying to work in speedwork as I could. You just do what you can running-wise when you have wee kids.

The week was pretty tiring, with both kids getting up really early and Baby C still only occasionally sleeping through the night. On Friday night I went to bed at 9:30 and hoped for the best, I was so tired. Saturday morning came around and I felt OK. I got up at 5 and did my usual half english muffin and water, while packing up my stuff. I heard the kids getting up just before 6 and scooted out the door. It was already 64 degrees out but fortunately cooler up north.

I drove for a couple of minutes and realized I didn't have my sport beans. D'oh! I drove back home and got them.

I drove away and then realized two blocks later I forgot my iPod. D'oh! I almost never run with music but I knew I'd be running most of the race solo and wanted to have it just in case I started dragging and I needed a pick-me-up. By this second trip back home Little Toddler Man and Baby C were up. My toddler kept saying "mommy, what you doing?" as I raced around trying to find crap.

I finally got up to the race site. I didn't realize the entire race was on a forest preserve. It was stunningly gorgeous. The sun was just coming up and there was this mist over a sizable lake, which was surrounded by trees with gold and orange leaves. Wow. I started to look around for the two women I knew who were running it. I planned to start off with them but I was really itching to race. Fortunately, they understood.

Before the race -- so pretty!

I love smaller races. This race was a full marathon and a half marathon. I'm guessing there were fewer than 100 marathoners and maybe 500 half runners? This is this particular race's second year, so that's part of it -- no one's heard of it, and it happened to fall on the same weekend as the Chicago Marathon, but gosh, so refreshing from Chicago's typically enormous races. The Chicago half that I have done for several years in September, by comparison, is like, 20,000 or 30,000 runners? So this was just great.

Once the race started I just was itching to go. It was still cool outside and the air smelled so good. I felt great. I forgot to look at my watch when I crossed the start line but I figured I'd time my miles after the first mile marker.

My goal was to do 10-minute miles, and aim for sub-10 if possible. I also decided to try to run harder early on -- I know, that's not what you're supposed to do -- but I wanted to take advantage of it being cooler, since the forecast was for the 80s and the race started pretty late (8 a.m., ugh -- I prefer an earlier start).

I felt fantastic the first five miles, running sub-10s! I have a watch, not a Garmin, so I don't know my exact pace. I was pleased. The next three miles it was definitely getting warmer, but I stayed sub-10. Then around mile 8-9 I started feeling kind of tired. Not good. But I knew it was because I was pushing myself. I put my headphones on around mile 9 and just tried to focus on sub-10s.

After mile 10 I was hot. And nauseous. I get overheated so easily -- it's what killed me in the Lincoln, Neb., marathon in 2010. I swear, if it's sunny and warmer than 50 degrees and I'm running, I get really hot. Go figure.

I had to do a couple of quickie walk breaks. I dumped water on my head a few times. The forest perserve had several shady spots, fortunately, but there were also a lot of sunny stretches.

When I got to the 11-mile marker, I realized I had just run just over a 10-minute mile, so I was slowing down. I was feeling so slow and tired. The sun was punishing. I was disappointed that I might just be konking out because I started off too fast. One of these days I will actually learn how to race smart.

But I kept thinking about how close I was to my old 2:12 PR set in 2010 at the North Shore half. To run a 2:12 you have to average about a 10 mm pace the whole race, and here I was actually doing sub-10s. If I wasn't so close to my PR, I would have taken it easy. But man oh man, when you're that close? You just gotta run your butt off.

Which is what I did. Miles 11 and 12 sucked. It was sunny, hot and I felt a bit like the death march at the end of a full marathon. I got to the 12-mile marker and was a bit over a 10mm pace but not by much. I don't know how I managed this, I was so darn tired. I tried to pick up my pace after that my legs felt like they had concrete blocks strapped to them, they were so sluggish and heavy.

But there was that PR possibility, just dangling. I couldn't give up now. What if I actually PRed less than 7 months post-partum? How badass would I be? That's what I kept thinking about.

The last mile was on concrete, after most of the race being on nice crushed gravel trails. The course in the last 3/10ths of the mile was downhill and I kept looking around to see if there was an uphill after that, inwardly groaning. And where the hell was that finish line? I seriously wanted to stop running and puke in the grass, I felt so awful. But oh, that PR...

Finally, I saw the finish line and summoned up whatever I had left to pick up the pace. I saw the race clock in front of me and holy crap, it said 2:11 and change. I was going to PR!!!! Holy moly! I booked it across the finish line before it could hit 2:12. I crossed at 2:11:42, I think, and I knew my chip time would be even better. I had PRed! I did it!

I staggered over under a tree and had to bend over, I was sure I was going to throw up. I always feel like I'm going to hurl after a race but never do, and didn't this time, either. I just stayed there for what felt like a long time until I could lift my head up again. I grabbed some water, oranges and a bagel -- and some Halloween candy, too, and stretched.

I then walked up to a woman I didn't know and asked her to take my picture in front of the start line, holding my medal, grinning like a crazy lady. Yeah, baby, I PRed today!

2 1/2 years old!

2011-10-04T20:23:00.000-05:00

My husband pointed out that today my little toddler man is 2 1/2 years old. Half birthdays aren't a big deal for us big people but should definitely be recognized when you haven't been on the planet for very long. Among the cute things this 2 1/2 year old does: Waves and says "Hi terch!" when we pass our church on the way to daycare in the morning; says "No way Jose" when you tell him it's bedtime; sings duets of "ABCs" and "Trinkle, trinkle, little star" with mommy and will spontaneously bust out into a flailing form of dance.

Happy half birthday, little bubby.Thanks for making your dad and me smile.

***

Life is humming along right now. I've been working at my new job about six weeks and love love love it. The teenager is happy away at college. The toddler and Baby C, who's 6 1/2 months now, are great. I must be mellowing in my old age, or maybe it's just I know that Baby C is my last kid. But until this week I could not bring myself to let her cry it out in order to train her to sleep through the night.

For those who haven't done it, sleep-training can be just awful -- listening to your child wail in the middle of the night for a cuddle, rocking or a quick nursing session even though they're old enough to go through the night without having to eat. It was brutal to do it with my sons, but there is just something about my daughter's cry that makes me want to bite my lip until it bleeds, it's so sad to listen to. So, Baby C has slept a grand total of two nights all the way through in her lifetime. This week I did a little CIO and it helped but heck, I'm weak. I figure I'll sleep when I'm older.

***

I'm running my first half marathon post-Baby C this weekend.

I deliberately chose an October half because I get sick of running hot half marathons (this will be my ninth overall since I began seriously running in 2007; one was during a downpour, the other was on a chilly Halloween morning-- the rest have been in hot weather, including my 2010 PR of 2:12. Which I have no prayer of beating this week, oh well.). The forecast for Saturday? 80 degrees. Bleh. This weekend is also the Chicago marathon, on Sunday. So of course it will be hot, if you are familiar with the recent weather history on marathon weekends.

My Chicago marathon experience recap:

2006: First year I went to see a marathon. Volunteered pre-race in the CARA gear check tent. It was spitting snow and freezing. I saw those runners that morning, bouncing around from nerves and cold, and decided right then and there I would run the Chicago marathon the next year, even though at that point I'd never run more than 6 miles at a time. And my fingers were beyond numb trying to tag runners' gear, which you can't do very easily in gloves.
2007: My first marathon -- I said I'd do it and I meant it. However, I developed tendonitis three weeks before the race, so was forced to run/walk it. Stubborn girl that I am, I did that, until mile 16 when the race organizers were told by the city to shut it down because that day was nearly 90 degrees. Fluke, right?
2008: Hot. Watched the marathon from Chinatown (just past mile 22) and looked for friends who were running it. They all looked pretty toasty. I was first trimester with the toddler and roasting just watching all those sweaty runners go by.
2009: Volunteered to work the start line, so it was freezing, of course, haha. Later ran seven miles of the race with a friend who went on to PR at the marathon. Nice.
2010: Hot again. Pregnant again. Pattern? Hmm. Ran the last six miles with a girlfriend who was running the whole thing, meeting her at mile 20 with ice cubes to stick in her hat and bra. Got thrown out of the race just after the 26-mile mark since I was technically banditing the race. Still a little indignant about that.
2011: Nothing. Nada. Running my half in the burbs on Saturday and going to "terch" on Sunday. :-)
2012: I'm coming back for you, Chicago marathon.

***

So NJ Gov. Chris Christie will not seek the Republican presidential nomination, it was reported today. I thought it was interesting a few days ago that the portly governor's weight was actually a topic, as described in this NYTimes story. Earlier this year the government revealed about one-third of Americans are considered obese, a big jump and the highest rate in history. On the one hand, you'd think there would be a comfort level with someone who looks like a lot of other people. On the other hand, we want our politicians to be better than our flawed selves, including being fit. I wonder what he thought of all of the hoopla over his weight.

From good times to bad times

2011-09-25T14:55:00.000-05:00

I don't really know why, but I can't resist reading stories about the labor market. My new job is great -- I love it -- and things are feeling more, normal, I guess. And yet. I used to just drive past the unemployment office on my way to daycare and the train, but now when I pass it, I always have to look at it. It's like I don't want to get too comfortable or something, like I need to remind myself how incredibly lucky I am to be working again when so many people are struggling.

This story from the Chicago Tribune today really resonated with me: From good times to bad times. For starters, a lot of news stories about unemployment suck, because they're written by hack journalists who've been working at the same job forever and haven't stood in an unemployment line. I say this as an opinionated ex-newspaper editor, FWIW.

So it was refreshing to see a story that didn't just quote a bunch of self-proclaimed employment experts who offer such sage advice as keeping your confidence up because it's easy to get depressed during a lengthy layoff. Yes, I actually read that recently in a local paper and I think I yelled at it. Yes, I yelled at the newspaper in front of me. Yes, I still read a newspaper.

Anyway, this story is about wealthy families who face extended unemployment, but could be the story for middle class folks, too, who are accustomed to being comfortable. The humiliation and embarrassment are real, and it gets to you after a while. I saw my dad go through it years ago, and then of course I went through it for 10 months until August, when I started a new job.

So, anyway, just sharing it. And now I'm going to go eat Halloween pumpkin candy, which I justify because I ran 11 miles yesterday. Oink.

Happy endings

2011-09-22T06:12:00.001-05:00

I was thinking about happy endings recently. In real life, if something ends it's usually a sad thing -- a relationship, a job, death. Maybe that's why so many of us love happy endings, even if we grouse that we don't, in movies or TV. I thought of that when I watched recently the final episode of Entourage and the contrived happy endings for HBO's boys who will never grow up. You just don't get things wrapped up in a bow.

Or do you?

We just visited my college son in Iowa City this past weekend. As an aside, OMG, it is so WEIRD to be the parent visiting her college son in Iowa City! I logged in many weekends in Iowa City in my 20s, first visiting my college roomie Mary, who was in graduate school and then med school there -- it was a great escape from the boring town I was living in at the time. Later, when I started dating my husband, we'd pop over there from Des Moines for a weekend and act like overgrown college kids. It was so much fun. Now I'm the mom, haha.

Anyway, the Teenager is doing awesome. No, I don't know what his grades really are so far -- I'm still nervous and hoping he's studying. But he's doing awesome because he's so.darn.happy. :-) He just beamed all weekend as he talked about classes, dorm friends, his new fraternity (gulp),ultimate frisbee. We walked around Iowa City after the Iowa-Pittsburgh game, in which Iowa rallied back from being down 24-3 to win. Amazing. Kids bedecked in gold and black were out in force. A lot of them were hammered. My oldest son was pushing his baby sister in her stroller. He didn't seem to mind hanging out with us -- I could understand if he wanted to hang out with friends after the big game. It was just one afternoon, but it was perfect.

A year ago my son was very unhappy. He wanted to leave his high school and move to his dad's in Iowa. I learned that I would soon be losing my job. I was winding up my first trimester of pregnancy and had felt like total crap. The world looked so gloomy. A year later, yeah, I got a happy ending. I think I'll enjoy it while it lasts.

Oh, and of course I got a run in, on Sunday morning at 5:30 a.m. I ran the strip in Coralville near my hotel. Iowa City folks, I need a better running route suggestion!

My friend Walter

2011-09-21T12:12:00.000-05:00

The Sun-Times did a great piece on Walter Pukala, who I've known for close to 10 years. An avid runner and fitness nut, not to mention a great, funny guy, found out he had prostate cancer. Here's the story: Even health buffs can get prostate cancer - Chicago Sun-Times.

Back when I used to take 5:30 a.m. boot camp classes with my husband at our gym, Walter was one of the instructors. He'd make us sprint laps and joke the entire time, bellowing at us if we wanted to take it easy, we should take yoga.

Walter also was one of the people who inspired me to become a runner. I trained for my first 5k and first sprint triathlons through the gym. I remember one day telling Walter I was thinking about trying to run the Shamrock Shuffle 8K for the first time, I told him that I was thinking about it but nervous that I'd never run that far before (4.97 miles). He was like, hey, you've run 3. You can run 5.

I didn't believe him.

He was right.

I am so, so happy that Walter's doing great. He brightens a lot of people's lives. He's certainly brightened mine.

'Little girl' reporter defended by editor

2011-09-09T16:56:00.000-05:00

» Romenesko+ | Poynter

Though I haven't been a full-time reporter for nearly five years, I still love to peruse journalism news and in particular the journalist must-read Romenesko site. This headline, "'Little girl' reporter defended by editor". My first thought was, really, this crap *still* happens?

I was called a "little girl" reporter, too, once. I was about 25 and a reporter in exciting Des Moines, Iowa. I was sent to interview a senior executive at a company that was moving its headquarters from Des Moines to Chicago. It was blatantly obvious that this exec did not want to talk to me or do an interview -- I think he was doing the publisher a favor or something.

I had very little poise at the time, and very little understanding of business. Which meant I got nervous easily and very, very rattled. The interview just went awfully. I could tell I was just not getting good stuff from the guy and felt awful at how dismissive and rude he was to me.

I came to find out later that either he or his wife referred to me as the "little girl reporter." The guy is long dead, the company long since moved to Chicago, but I'm kind of pissed off all over again after seeing this headline today.

Be careful -- "little girls" can grow up to be big girls who don't put up with bullshit like that.

Trim and bouncy

2011-09-07T06:27:00.000-05:00

I just finished up my usual 5@5 Wednesday run with friends -- 5 miles at 5 a.m. on Chicago's lakefront. Our little group is growing -- we had six people this morning! Our lone guy friend, Vern, showed up last to a group of pony-tailed, yakking women and declared us "trim and bouncy." I like that! Best compliment we'll get all day, I joked. Before 7 a.m., I heard the Clash, Adele and Iggy Pop. How could I not be bouncy?

My kids are waking up so I gotta run. But I needed to share two things: if you want to try yoga, I have a great new DVD to recommend: "Element: Hatha & Flow Yoga for Beginners Kit." It has two 30 minute segments, a hatha one that holds poses and moves more slowly, but has great stretching and includes a belt to help you stretch; and my favorite, the "flow" segment which for a little 30-minute yoga practice kicks some pretty good butt. Love it and love workouts that are 30 minutes, since I'm always pressed for workout time in the morning. (P.S. yoga will make you trim and bouncy! OK, at least trim, anyway.)

Secondly, today is my first payday. As in, real paycheck. Sure, with a kid in college and two kids in diapers, it's more than spent. But holy happy dance.

Life after unemployment

2011-09-04T14:16:00.000-05:00

You want to know how to make yourself get up at 5:30 a.m.on a Saturday morning and run 11 miles? Tell one of your new colleagues at your new job that's what you're going to do when asked what weekend plans you have. It worked, last weekend. There was no way I could go into work that following Monday and tell her that I wussed out.

I've just completed three weeks now on the new job. The nearly 10 months of unemployment are rapidly fading in my mind already -- it's kind of surreal how far away it seems, so quickly. Part of it is that the job I took is insanely busy -- I haven't been this busy professionally in a really long time, like since the fall of 2009. It's fantastic to be this busy. The other day I popped into the post office on Lawrence, located next to my hood's unemployment office. There was a line out the door, with folks waiting for it to open. I felt guilty, really guilty, all of a sudden that I had a job and they didn't. Friday's unemployment report was so grim, too. There are so many people hurting out there. A friend of mine lost her house to the bank and has has to move her and her two daughters. Things are just a mess. I hope I never forget how freaking lucky I am. I sure took a lot for granted before my layoff.

OK, enough of that. Let's talk running. I am a month away from my first half marathon since Baby C was born. I know I can certainly finish a half and do decently, though probably nowhere near a PR (personal record). Two weeks ago I began adding in speedwork during a weekday run and I'm hoping it will help. my idea of speedwork is run a block fast, and run the next couple of blocks at a more moderate pace, repeat. Even that kicks my 43-year-old butt. There are no easy comebacks after baby!

Yesterday I ran 6 with friends doing the Chicago Half next weekend and I pushed us to do a little faster than the 11 minute/mile pace we've been doing. I'm tired of being so damn slow. So, we'll see.

Baby C is hollering now, gotta go.

As marathon looms, rookies' motivation hits the wall | Business Of Life | Crain's Chicago Business

2011-08-29T09:01:00.000-05:00

Good story about training for the Chicago marathon in Crain's Chicago Business this week: As marathon looms, rookies' motivation hits the wall Business Of Life Crain's Chicago Business.

Get those runs in! It's worth it, come race day.

Working girl

2011-08-24T06:15:00.000-05:00

I think this may finally be my last byline story as a journalist: a story on how employers are making it easier for their workers to get exercise and improve their overall health. (I feel like I should frame it or have a toast or something!)

Hopefully the story will inspire more employers to offer their employees some kind of help. This story publishes as I'm back to work -- and loving it. But holy smarties, is it an adjustment to get up 4:30-5 a.m. to get my workout in, get in the shower before the kiddies awake, get everyone ready, drop them off at daycare, commute by car to work, work all day and hope I am not screwing up anything, commute home, feed,bathe, snuggle,etc... Oh hell, what am I whining about? I'm tired, but it's awesome too.

Now, I have GOT to get into the shower. I hear little voices. My kids, not in my head, silly.

Local companies help employees improve health

By Tammy Chase August 22, 2011 7:52PM, Chicago Sun-Times

Way back at the first of the year, many Chicagoans made New Year’s resolutions. Some of those likely included getting back into shape. While many of us were on our own trying to follow through, employees at MacNeal Hospital in Berwyn and at BlueStar Energy Solutions got a little help — from the boss.

Shandra Primar, 47, a housekeeper at MacNeal, was glad to agree to a health assessment earlier this year offered by her employer. She knew that she had put a few pounds on over the years. But she was shocked to learn that she was, by medical definition, considered obese. “It was upsetting, to find out that I was ‘obese,’” she recalls. Months later, she’s down two uniform sizes and works out regularly with a handful of her overnight shift colleagues, hitting the hospital gym at hours most people are asleep.

Primar is one of several employees taking advantage of wellness programs offered by their employers. Though fewer than half of companies across the United States offer wellness programs, the percentage of those companies that do is rising. Last year, 45 percent of employers offered some kind of wellness program to their employees in the fourth quarter of 2010, according to the Metlife Study of Employee Benefit Trends released in March, compared with 37 percent in 2009. Such benefits include managing weight loss and increasing fitness activities and quitting smoking, for example. Of the companies offering wellness perks, 72 percent of them did so to reduce medical costs.

Some companies simply have their own programs, such as Children’s Memorial Hospital, which held a “know your numbers” session last fall that allowed employees to get their cholesterol and blood pressure tested, among other things. The hospital offers on-site Weight Watchers meetings, as well as yoga classes and healthy meal choices in the cafeteria. At Pepsico’s Quaker offices in Chicago, employees have access to annual health screenings, educational classes on weight management and handling stress, and an on-site fitness center and exercises classes for just $18 a month.

Other companies, such as MacNeal and BlueStar, were just two of several companies that participated in the Chicagoland Chamber of Commerce’s Live Healthy Chicago program, which provides grants to select companies to offer a 100-day initiative that began in January to create competitions for employees to get into shape. There also are companies like HealthyWage, a weight loss company that enrolls employees in contests to lose weight and get to healthy Body Mass Indexes (BMI) and gives cash prizes to teams of employees with the greatest percentage of weight lost. HealthyWage launched its “Chicago Matchup” in May, with the Archdiocese of Chicago, Mesirow Financial, and Schneider Electric in Downers Grove all participating.

At MacNeal, the housekeepers pulled together, four of them at first and eventually seven in all, to rally each other to work out at midnight in the hospital’s gym. They took turns on the elliptical trainer, treadmill, stationary bike and the stability ball. At one point, someone even brought in a radio and a few of them would practice doing the “Electric Slide” for exercise. Now Primar is in Zumba classes. Other employees at MacNeal formed walking groups (one group was named “Mission Slim-possible” and has walked more than 8,000 miles this year). In all, 21 groups of employees participated at the hospital.

The results were inspirational. Of employees who participated, half lost weight; 32 percent lowered their total cholesterol, and 39 percent reduced their fasting blood sugar, a test used to diagnose diabetes, said April Krakar, health and wellness coordinator at MacNeal. “They feel better. They have more energy. They’re happier,” she said.

For BlueStar, fitness programs weren’t in the budget, says Carmen Bass, BlueStar’s human resources manager, so the grant from the Chamber was particularly helpful. Roughly half of the energy company’s employees signed up for the fitness evaluation. Since then employees have participated in the 100-day challenge by participating in races including the stairclimbing “Hustle up the Hancock” and the Gateway Green “Tree-K” 5K run and 3K walk last April. One employee who finished the 5K even got inspired to sign up and train for the Chicago Marathon this October. Total pounds lost, 161.

Such programs motivate employees to take steps they might not take on their own. Ken Callham, a project manager for BlueStar, lost 30 pounds over the 100-day challenge period and has kept the weight off. Through the program, he also lowered his cholesterol as well as his sodium intake. He’s bringing his lunch or hitting the salad bar instead of the pizza joint at mealtime and skipping fast-food egg sandwiches for breakfast in favor of cottage cheese and fruit. He also bikes and walks more, and is anticipating BlueStar’s new “Fit Bug” pedometer program for employees.

“It was good that it was a prolonged program that allowed me to make lifestyle changes,” the 26-year-old says of the 100-day program that began in January. “Knowing all the time that we put in in the office, the fact that the company had a genuine interest in our well-being — it’s good to see that in an employer.”

It’s easy to skip spending corporate dollars on such programs in the midst of tough economic times. But employers who don’t spend the money, take note: A Harvard Business Review article shows that there is a return on investment. Johnson & Johnson has put into place programs to help employees quit smoking, become more active and improve health measures, such as lowering blood pressure. Since 1995, for every dollar spent, J&J reports a return of $2.71 from lowered health care costs for the company, the study said.

“Wellness programs have often been viewed as a nice extra, not a strategic imperative,” wrote Leonard L. Berry, Ann M. Mirabito, and William B. Baun, the story’s authors. “Newer evidence tells a different story. With tax incentives and grants available under recent federal health care legislation, U.S. companies can use wellness programs to chip away at their enormous health care costs, which are only rising with an aging workforce.”

Back to school

2011-08-11T13:48:00.001-05:00

I am absolutely thrilled that my teenage son will be able to start at the University of Iowa this fall after all! Just a few weeks ago we had to tell him that he'd have to sit out a year, but some circumstances changed that were really helpful to h.im. He'll move into his dorm next week and start classes the following week.

I can remember that weekend my dad and I made the three-hour drive to college my freshman year. It's funny how vivid some of it is, the smell of the late summer air, the sunshine-soaked campus, the butterflies in my stomach, and that confusing mixed sense of euphoria and terror when my dad left. I hung out with my roommate Carlene. We went to the movies (at least, I think it was with her) and saw Back to School with Rodney Dangerfield. I wondered about how hard my classes would be and what the boys would be like. I met Julie through her roommate, who went to high school with Carlene. And later that semester Mary, in German class. I'm still in touch with all of them.

Now my son gets to have these new experiences. And, if I may, I get to bust my buttons. My son is going to college. I am a very proud and happy mama. But, he better study hard. And don't forget to go for a run once in a while to clear his head. :-)

Cool story on overtraining while running

2011-08-11T11:03:00.000-05:00

Fortunately, no one would accuse me of overtraining right now. Overthinking? Yes. Overtraining? Nope. Here's a helpful article on how to avoid overdoing it -- perfect for my friends training for marathons and other long distances.

I am LOVING this running weather this week. :-)

13.1 reasons to run a half marathon, four years Marlboro Light-free and more

2011-08-08T11:19:00.000-05:00

Last Saturday marked the end of the Chicago Area Runners Association's half marathon training program, for which I was a pace group leader on Saturdays, the day we do our "long" runs. The target race for the training is next weekend's Rock n Roll half marathon. (For my non-runner friends, a half marathon is 13.1 miles). I actually really dislike that race, and it's ridiculously overpriced anyway at more than $100. So, I'll be skipping that, but I'm really excited for members of our group who are running their first halfs next weekend! Good luck!

I thought of them when I ran across this: 13.1 reasons to run a half marathon. I've run eight halfs since I began running regularly in 2007, and easily find these to be my favorite distances for races. I've done a few marathons and god, they're just brutal, the training AND the races. I like halfs because I have to work for them, but they don't beat the hell out of my body like marathons do. My current personal record, or PR, set in June 2010, is 2 hours and 12 minutes. Some of the 13 reasons mentioned in this article, such as "post-race party", are kind of dumb -- I mean, geez, I don't need a half to justify having a drink, or to buy running gear, or whatever. But, whatever floats your boat. I like the excuse of burning lots of calories so I can eat like a pig. Which I do.

Some members of our group will keep running with my co-leader Andie and I to run the Chicago Half in September. It's $90, I think? Ugh. I'm just getting cheap from having been unemployed, I guess. So I found a $50 race in October and will run that. Yay! No PRs planned, just hoping to run it unde 2:20.

Separately, on this date four years ago today, I had my last cigarette. I had gone on Chantix, a prescription drug, a week prior, which blocks receptors in the brain from receiving the "pleasure" cigarettes provide. We had had a super busy day at work, with my company reporting quarterly earnings. Later that evening I had a drink and my last cigarette, around 9 p.m., and took the rest of the pack of Marlboro Lights and soaked them under the kitchen sink faucet, so I wouldn't be tempted. Two days later I ran my first half marathon after a weekend of serious, awful withdrawal that included queasiness and shakiness. Everytime I run a half, I think of how awful that first half was -- and figure any half I run will be better than that one.

Running is soooo much better than cigarettes. :-)

Back to work!

2011-08-04T17:04:00.002-05:00

I got a job! Nine months and 10 days since my Oct. 29, 2010, layoff, I will start my new job Monday. YAY!

Can I just say I have never, ever, ever worked so hard to find a job before? All that hype about a crappy economy and job market? Sad but true.

By my count, I did at least 13 in-person job interviews, and I count at least another four phone screeners (though I'm guessing that I am forgetting some now -- who knew my Google calendar erases crap after a while). I did this with two interview suits in my closet, one of which didn't fit after October because I was pregnant. I wore a LOT of large, strategically placed scarves, let's just say.

I never counted how many jobs I applied for online and either heard nothing or got immediately rejected. But there were a bunch.

Highlights and lowlights:

I had one interview where the guy was having some, um, stinky issues in his small, windowless office. That was awful.
I had a guy interview me three times, tell me I was his top candidate and then two days letter have his HR department send me a form rejection email. He was a putz anyway, but still.
I had three job interviews the week before Christmas, got rejected for one and the other two -- well, still never heard anything to this day.
I did three interviews at another place where I did really, really well -- until I opened my mouth and told them I was pregnant and due in 3 months. Never heard from them again. Would you have rather I waited to show up for my first day of work to tell you that?
I did have two instances of places where I interviewed at each several times, and someone was nice enough to call me and let me know I didn't get the job. I really, really appreciated that courtesy.
I interviewed for a job with the title "thoughtpartner". I should have known better.
I interviewed with one place and seriously, have had, like, five meetings/interviews with these folks since last August. They still haven't filled the position.
I had a guy ask me to send him writing samples, ideas, etc., which I did within hours of our meeting. To this day he hasn't acknowledged receiving them, despite my several, polite-but-persistent emails.
The Illinois Department of Employment Security office in my hood seriously has some of the nicest people working there. They were so kind and helpful with my unemployment.

I counted 17 revisions to my resume during this period. At least that many cover letters. I got better at cover letters, I think.

To keep sane, I ran 400 miles over my layoff and did too many yoga classes and workout DVDs to count. I think I read about three books. Guess I could have been better about hitting the books!

But the best part of the last nine months? Having Baby C in March. She's 4 1/2 months now, grabbing toys and giving half laughs, half squawks to her brother, daddy and me.

So what got me here today? It started on a cold, January day. I was on a treadmill at the gym, depressed, so I was trying to run off some frustrations. I caught something on TV and decided screw it, I'd go volunteer. At least I would be doing something useful and hopefully I'd make some good contacts. I did. I have a job now. Had I not just been so fed up that day with unemployment (pregnancy hormones probably aided my frustration level, whistle whistle) I would still be trying to scrape my way in somewhere.

Thank you, God.

How I almost didn't meet Lori

2011-07-29T09:49:00.000-05:00

During the summer of 2007, I began training for my first-ever marathon, the Chicago Marathon. The hub and I also decided to try and have kids together, after years of his insistence that he didn't want to. (This was epic, huge stuff!) Since I was really excited to run my first marathon that fall, we decided to wait and try and get pregnant until after the October race.

Race officials wound up canceling the race midway on race day because of 88-degree temps and collapsing runners. I didn't get to finish -- at about mile 16, race officials were on bullhorns telling us to walk and that the race was cancelled. I figured, well, time to get pregnant now and hopefully I'll get another shot at Chicago someday. (Note: I hope to run it in 2012). I found out I was about 5 weeks pregnant that Thanksgiving weekend. We were so excited! I was 39 and my husband a couple of years older, so we were thrilled that it took no time at all considering we were older.

However, by New Year's Eve day, I knew something was wrong. We went to the emergency room that night and it appeared I was starting to have a miscarriage. We were there through midnight. Finally, the hospital just sent me home. I should have been 10 weeks along by then, but the fetus was only about six weeks along and there was no heartbeat. We were heartbroken.

Without getting too graphic, it takes a few days for the miscarriage to well, be done. I stayed home from work for a few days and cried with my husband. Suddenly it was Friday. I felt listless. I was supposed to go to Omaha that weekend to see family and meet my brother's newest baby but I couldn't do it. I remembered my running friend Jennie, who I had met training for Chicago that previous summer, was going to start with a winter marathon training group the next day so she could run the St. Louis marathon in April. I thought, what the hell, I'll go join them for a run. Maybe I'll train for a spring marathon, and give myself something to put my mind on other than our loss.

I showed up on that gray, wintry Saturday, in the Waveland golf course parking lot. Jennie was surprised to see me. I told her what happened. She's a labor & delivery nurse, by coincidence, and was so kind and supportive as we ran together. I finished the run, still anxious but less so than when I got there. I went home.

I came back out each Saturday for the long group training runs. I met Vern. I met Darryck. I met Tonya. I met Lori. I still run with most of these folks, actually. Vern has become a great friend and mentor about everything from job-hunting to being parent to a teenager. If I have a big life decision, I like to get Vern's opinion. He is not shy in telling me what he thinks. It's good.

Tonya is this incredibly loyal friend and hard-working attorney who just lights up my day whenever I'm with her. A few weeks ago, after a job interview just didn't go very well and I was upset, I called her from the middle of Randolph Street downtown and sobbed in her ear for a good 15 minutes. She gave me advice and a pep talk that I needed. I adore her.

This weekend I'm going to Darryck's youngest daughter's birthday party.

And I'm going to Lori's wedding tonight.

Lori is an architect. She is also this gorgeous, slim blonde with a cute giggle and one of the kindest hearts I've ever met. She was going through a divorce at the time I met her, and I hope she doesn't mind my saying this but when I met her, her confidence was pretty well sunk. She didn't seem to have any clue how smart and wonderful and gorgeous she was. As we ran those bitterly cold Saturdays together, the five of us in particular grew closer. She talked of her struggles. I eventually opened up and told my new running friends of my loss, so grateful that I had them to talk to. We ran some really, freezing cold runs. We still talk about that awful 16-miler. The wind was stiff and straight out of the north, with some gravelly mix of snow and sleet. Our faces stung and our eyes water as we ran into it. We got each other through it and many similar runs.

I ran and finished the St. Louis marathon in April 2008, but didn't stop running with my friends, including Lori. Lori went through a layoff, though she found work again, thank goodness. Her divorce wound down. I got pregnant with the little toddler man later that summer and ran with them until I no longer could. Somewhere in there (or maybe it was later, can't trust my memory anymore) she met a guy who lived in Milwaukee. Vern and I wondered about the guy, if he was a good one. I had the toddler in April 2009 and began running again. Lori and I ran a half marathon, the Chicago Rock-n-Roll half, that sumrmer. I met Aaron that day, her guy, who came down to cheer on his girlfriend on race day. The guy had charm to spare and a kilowatt smile. She glowed in his presence and giggled. A lot. Almost nauseating, haha, but seriously, I was so happy for her. Two lovebirds. Isn't falling in love awesome?

Today she's marrying Aaron, tonight, actually. I couldn't be happier for her. And I had forgotten until this morning that I almost never even met her -- I surely would not have begun training for a marathon while pregnant. So it's funny how random life is -- and I'm so, so grateful to know Lori and to get to be there tonight on a really wonderful day for her. :-)

And I have a super cute new dress to wear. :-)

Making your kids happy, and sad

2011-07-26T11:01:00.002-05:00

We've owned our house in the city for about nine years, but until last weekend we'd never been to or had a block party, Chicago-style. A kind neighbor got the permit, put some food and drinks out on Saturday and hired an accordion player. It was cool.

Then it got even better. Shortly after some of us had spilled out of our homes to mingle in a few yards, a Chicago fire engine came and parked on our block. The firemen let kids like my little toddler man climb all over the inside of the truck. My son's face was sheer, innocent joy -- I wish I had downloaded the photos off the camera, so I could share one here, that's how powerful it was. It about made me cry to see his joy.

The afternoon continued on, with two Chicago police offers showing up with -- horses! Yep, I guess that is part of the permit/block party tradition, too? My son got to sit on a horse. He's still talking about sitting on "da horsie". He loved the accordion player. And so on. Baby C hung out with me in the Baby Bjorn, wriggling and smiling. I had run a particularly rough 10-miler that morning and was feeling pretty ragged, but it was a good time. With a little ibuprofen, I could ignore my achey legs.

Last week I and my ex-husband had to tell our teenager he couldn't go to the college of his choice this fall. He was crushed. Not that he wasn't aware it was a possibility. He wanted to go to the U of Iowa, even though his first year would be out-of-state tuition. Without going into all of the details, we just couldn't make it work financially.

It killed me to hear the dejection in his voice over the phone and see his despairing posts on Facebook. There was no way to sugarcoat it -- he's not leaving for college in a few weeks like his friends will. I know in his shoes I would have been devastated. It is so hard to fix things for your kids when they're older. With the toddler and Baby C, some snuggles and maybe a toy -- or a horsie -- do the trick. Not so easy with an older kid.

I still feel awful everytime I think about my oldest. But I will keep reminding him he WILL go to school. Working for the next year in Iowa to both earn money and to gain eligibility for in-state tuition will be a big help to us all. I will surely be working before then. I never promised my son a college education -- he always knew he would have to earn it. But I did promise him that I will help him, and I plan to make good on that, somehow.

He's coming home for a short visit in the next few weeks. I can't wait to hold my boy.

For my friend Meg: How to get up early in the morning to exercise

2011-07-20T12:52:00.003-05:00

I read somewhere once that if you can get up early to exercise during the week and you stick with it for either two or three weeks, I forget, that it gets easier. Personally, I like to make sure I do something at least five days a week, whether it's running, yoga or strength training. I get up 3-4 times early during the week and exercise a bit later on Saturdays. Shoot for two early days a week and a weekend workout -- very respectable.

It gets easier because you've formed a habit. However, this doesn't mean it's easy. But hells bells. We badasses don't like easy. Easy is for creampuffs. You are not a creampuff. Mmmm creampuffs.

Here's how I do it:

The night before:

1. Lay out running clothes: shorts, top, running bra, socks, shoes. I put mine in the bathroom so I can dress there and try to not wake the hub or the kids.

2. Lay out keys, driver's license, whatever I need to get out the door. Make sure I have a water bottle or Gatorade chilled.

3. Try to get to bed by or before 10 p.m. If I'm having trouble falling asleep I read to quiet my mind. Or I ask my husband about what biotech stocks he's following lately. (heehee)

4. Set alarm -- I set my clock15 minutes fast, too, which drives my husband bananas. I swear, it works.

Morning of:

1. Hear alarm clock. Turn it off. Swear quietly,

2. Make self stand up. This is important! No hitting snooze. No laying there for a second. Tell yourself the next five minutes are going to suck. It's OK, you'll feel better shortly.

3. Get clothes on, brush teeth, put contacts in, pet kitty if you have one, hair in ponytail. So what if you feel groggy. You're up! Pat yourself on the back.

4. Optional: have a small glass of water and a piece of toast. Not everyone can eat that early. I like toast before I do anything.

5. Go! And make sure to post on Facebook or tell your creampuff co-workers -- casually, of course -- how early you got up and how many miles you ran or how many pushups you did in boot camp. If you have a friend to meet you or a class to go to, it sooooo helps keep you motivated.

I swear, I always, always, always feel great after a morning workout, like a bit later in the morning when I'm feeding the kids and getting them out the door. I have more energy. This is what I remind myself when I stand up out of bed and I want to fall over.

Good luck!

4:35 a.m.

2011-07-20T05:48:00.001-05:00

More about running in heat today -- every runner in Chicago is talking about it, for sure. Except the creampuffs who run treadmills. I'm KIDDING, you guys! I hate treadmills and only run them if it's like, 4 below or the sidewalks are covered in ice and snow. Or if I'm very pregnant. But I digress.

Today is the weekly 5@5 I run with friends at the lakefront, our 5 miles at 5 a.m. Baby C got up at 3:50 a.m. to eat, we dozed a bit and I was up and dressed at 4:25. Sweet! I walked into the living room and looked at the windows, which appeared to be draped with what resemble a veil. Steam. Huh. Checked the BlackBerry, grabbed the keys, and oh, wait, my running pals aren't going to meet up. Many of them live a few miles south of me and they were getting a storm. Rats. I hate it when I get up and dressed and then weather is a factor. So just go back to bed, right? Naaaaah. (Edit: 78 degrees and 85 percent humidity at 5 a.m. Holy cats.)

I left the house at 4:35. This is early even for me. It was still dark, that "darkest before the dawn" dark. The sidewalks glistened. A fog hung over my neighborhood. Trees dripped overhead. Want to know who's out at 4:35 in my neighborhood? People delivering newspapers. That's about it.

So many of you know that I used to work at a major newspaper in town until my layoff last fall. It dawned on me in the last few months that I had mostly gotten over it, meaning I didn't ache when I thought about the place like I used to. I stay in touch with friends there still and no longer have to be nice to those I couldn't stand. Yesterday the big news was that the Chicago Sun-Times was going to be printed by its arch nemesis, the Chicago Tribune. (Actually, the Trib has been delivering the Sun-Times for some time now, so the two papers have been snuggling in bed together for awhile.) That means a shutdown of the printing plant on Ashland Avenue and 400 jobs eliminated. While $10 million in savings was touted as the reason to do this, what with the newspaper industry sucking and all, the reaction among employees was horror. "Horrid day for the Sun-Times. Production in the hands of those with an incentive to bury us," one of my friends wrote me. Hope they use that $10 million wisely.

So I'm thinking about all of this on my run, and thinking about how I recently canceled my daily newspaper. It was kind of an experiment -- since I'm no longer beholden to my employer to get the paper, why pay for it when news is free online? So, I amped up my Twitter feeds, got rid of the paper and decided to rely on news alerts and Twitter. It's working OK, but man, I miss my paper. I keep thinking I'm missing something important! So I may resubscribe again. If they ask nicely. Or make me an offer I can't refuse.

You know, if you think about stuff like this on a run, three miles can just fly by. I got home, drenched, just as the sky was lightening. As I walked inside, I could hear Baby C squeaking as she dozed next to her daddy. Everything just felt OK. But man, am I gonna need a nap later. That's a perk of unemployment, after all.

Run Like It's Hot

2011-07-18T16:44:00.001-05:00

Good grief, it's hot in Chicago. The air is deeply steamy, the temps pushing into the 90s. It feels like all hell could break loose any minute. I love it. Except when it's time to go for a run.

(Sorry if you had to wade thru a sandwich ad at the beginning of the video. I can't get this Power Station song out of my head. My 25th high school reunion is this weekend and I'm feeling nostalgic. If my husband reads this he will laugh at me. He is a music snob, a lovable music snob but a music snob nonetheless.)

My Saturday half marathon pace group that I co-lead has done some pretty hot runs. Last week we got into the double-digits, as in mileage, with a 10-miler now under our belts. The nine-miler the week prior was the worst, though, with 78 degrees at 7 a.m., our start time, and Houston-like humidity. A lot of our runners struggled with feeling sluggish, dehydrated, even ill. There’s very little shade on Chicago’s lakefront. The heat and humidity become a bigger challenge than the mileage, rather quickly.

So, I pass along a few tips from Runner's World for summer running. Or cycling. Or even if your car’s A/C is dead and you have to drive to, say, Wisconsin or something. Or you can just use my tips. :-)

1. Drink lots of water every day, not just before exercise. Your muscles will hate you and will not be fooled by the water you guzzled just moments before hitting the running path. I also like to drink something every 2-3 miles (this is totally just a personal preference -- everyone's needs are different), alternating Gatorade and water.

2. Make sure you know where water stops/fountains are on your route. If you run on your own on paths that don’t have fountains or course support, get a hydration belt. OK, I hate hydration belts. Plan B: Plan a loop course and have a spot where you can stash fluids so you can get a drink everytime you pass your stash. I can’t do this in Chicago, but I know this works for runners in other parts of the country where it’s less likely someone will mess with your Gatorade.

3. This is more of a race tip: If you are running and can have a friend spectate and cheer you, have them bring a cup of ice. When I ran the Rockford marathon in 2010 I ran (okay, half ran, half dragged) myself over to a nice family having a picnic and asked them if I could have some ice. I then proceeded to stuff it in my bra. It WORKS and keeps you cool for miles. I bet they couldn't shake my stench for an hour, though. So stinky when I run. Anyway, ice also works in your running hat, but I gotta say, bra is best. When I met my friend Andie at mile 20 of the very hot Chicago marathon last fall, I think she may have been more excited to see my giant cup of ice I got her than she was me, haha.

4. A frozen wet bandanna tied around your neck can work well, too.

5. Wear a hat to keep the sun off your face.

6. Your first hot run of the summer will suck. The rest of them will suck, too, but if you’re prepared, not as bad as the first.

Finally, I know I did a crappy job of hydrating if later in the day I have a headache I can't kick and I can't blame on anyone in my house.

See you on the path!

Powerless

2011-07-13T13:15:00.001-05:00

We had a big storm here on Monday. It was one of those wicked summer storms that sneak up on you, uproot a few trees, and cause a power outage so your two-year-old can't watch Spongebob Squarepants. It knocked out our power, along with estimates of as many as 800,000 households in ComEd's territory, if we are to believe the spokespeople. I believe everything I hear, you know.

We discovered that a power line was broken and just lying in a puddle behind the garage next door to us. Whoa! The Chicago PD stationed officers in our alley for about eight hours, standing guard so no one messed with the line, which apparently had 12,000 volts. I googled 12,000 volts -- it sounds like a lot, but what do I know -- and got some weird web sites, including sites about Chevy's Volt car. Huh. Anyway, one sticky night and 36 hours without power and we're back in business.

Then I think about it. In other countries -- let's say, oh, Iraq. Or other peaceful nation. The power goes out. I bet they would think people freaking about losing power for 36 hours and having to sleep one night without a/c were a bunch of ninnies. So yeah, I'm a ninny. But now that I have power, I can blog about being a ninny.

***

So I was going to stick to my Week 2 pledge of getting up at 5 a.m. or before to run this week. I made it Monday, after the storm, since I had no power and couldn't fart around on the Internet, running three sultry miles. This morning I was going to meet my 5@5 friends, our weekly 5-mile run at 5 a.m., but overslept and got up at 5 a.m. instead. I ran four solo. So, it mostly counts.

One last random thought barely related to running. After Saturday's 10-miler on the lakefront, I was heading to my car and saw a pregnancy test lying on the ground next to a row of parked cars. It was face-up, with a very visible "+" sign on it.

I keep thinking about that test. Did she pee on the stick right there in the lakefront parking lot? Or did she bring it with her to surprise her boyfriend/husband/whatever at a romantic lakefront picnic? Or did she bring it with to show him and scare him into taking responsibility? Don't you ever look at someone and wonder what is their story? I keep wondering what that baby's story will be. I hope to god it's a happy one.

No brats here

2011-07-10T13:15:00.001-05:00

Kids running around at restaurants, kicking the back of your airplane seat all.the.way.to.San.Francisco and generally making public scenes -- and mom and dad only gently scold them, or, worse, ignore them? A CNN columnist takes the kids and parents to task in "Permissive Parenting: Curb Your Brats." Author LZ Granderson is pretty harsh, basically telling overly permissive parents to get a grip on their kids or leave 'em at home.

I've raised a kid who is now 18, and I'm back in the wee set with a 2-year-old son and my 3-month-old daughter. And let me tell you, LZ: I couldn't agree more. Even though you seem particularly uptight about stuff.

I don't handle every parenting situation perfectly, I have to admit. Sometimes your kid can just be really, really unruly. But I have seen what LZ is talking about -- the kid who swats his mom or dad, and mom and dad will only say "now, sweetie, it's not nice to hit mommy." Um, no.

That said, when your kid is melting down at the supermarket, I mean, really melting down? *cry* Let's just say I wasn't beyond abandoning an entire cartload of groceries to get my little screamer out of there. The looks from other people that say "can't you control your kid?" were always the worst.

One little thing: Brats are delicious sausages on my grill. I prefer "stinkerbutt" or "little monster" myself.

I am a very good girl today; and no, I've never found a dead body on a run

2011-07-06T09:33:00.002-05:00

Before I jump in, I had to share this from Runner's World, "What I Learned About Runners As RW's Social Media Editor". I loved this!

In the grand scheme of human accomplishment, the fact that I got up at 4:30 a.m. and met my friends for our weekly 5@5 run -- which is meeting at 5 a.m. at the Lake Michigan lakefront for an easy 5-mile run -- isn't probably high on the list. But it's very high on mine. :-)

Between having my beautiful Baby C 3 1/2 months ago and still being unemployed, getting back into a regular running routine has been tough. I used to make every single Wednesday morning run back when I was working, since running time is scarce for working mamas.

But now I have more time on my hands -- you can only spend so much time each day networking and applying for jobs. So I run solo often during the day. I don't mind. I've been running long enough now that I don't need companionship or an iPod to get through a run. But companionship is nice. Meeting up with Vern and Andie this morning just made for a great, great start to the day. The conversation flowed. I like these folks a lot. And they like me. Feel-good all around.

This is geeky, but I absolutely love early morning running. I don't like the actual getting up part -- good lord, it's hard to get up that early. But once I'm up and on the lakefront? It's so quiet. I love the spot where I meet my friends. The parking lot is pretty much empty, the sky this time of year is already brightening -- at certain times of the year, I see the sun rising over the lake, breath-taking) and raccoon families scurry in the nearby trees, their eyes glowing. There aren't many runners out on the path. The ones who are are subdued, but friendly, often giving a wave or a nod of solidarity. It's like, yeah, we are part of a badass club.

I came up with two blog post ideas during my run this morning, one of which I have already forgotten. The one I remember is about runner's gaits -- my friend Andie is struggled with foot pain, so she is getting a running gait analysis this week to see how she runs. I had one of those done once and was told I run pretty funky and I needed to strengthen my core. About five bouts with physical therapy for knee pain later, ahem, they were right. *innocent whistle*.

I think I'm still on a runner's high. :-)

New crop of workout DVDs reviewed

2011-07-01T11:52:00.001-05:00

From the
Chicago Sun-Times

Time for a total workout

With the summer’s cute tank tops, mini-dresses and short-shorts, many of us need workouts that tackle everything at once.

Some of the newer workout DVDs now out seek to do just that. I like that all three of them also had choices of doing a full hourlong workout or shorter segments when you’re stretched for time. We gave a few of them a try:

“Get Extremely RIPPED! Boot Camp,” (jarilove.com, $14.99): Canadian fitness instructor Jari Love, with a killer six-pack mid-section and an obvious love of tanning beds, brings a bunch of really muscular, fit people onto a dark stage with really bright floodlights and proceeds to drag you through killer sets of reps in 18 different exercises “tracks” that combine cardio and strength moves.

The moves are really, really challenging — so much so I worried I might hurt myself. I would not recommend this DVD to a beginner, and at points some more instruction would be helpful.

On the plus side, Love takes you through so many of the same reps over and over — it could seem a little boring, but if you’re the type that doesn’t like to have to learn a new move or step every minute when you’re trying to keep up with a workout DVD, you’ll like this just fine. However, for my money, I’d go with either of these two DVDs:

“Kristi Yamaguchi Power Workout,” (amazon.com, $16.99): Though the celebrity attached to this is Olympic gold medal skater and “Dancing with the Stars” contestant Kristi Yamaguchi, this really is an Erin O’Brien workout DVD. That’s OK. O’Brien is one of my favorite DVD workout instructors. (O’Brien’s “Complete Pregnancy Fitness with Erin O-Brien” and “Strong Body, Fit Body” are great). Yamaguchi and O’Brien take you through 10-minute cardio/strength segments that are challenging but fun and move quickly. The shoulder and triceps exercises had my upper body feeling like spaghetti by the end, and I loved the blend of weighted chest exercises and ab work at the end.

“Angie Miller’s Crave Results,” (angiemillerfitness.com, $19.95): I love “Crave Results.” I love it because people of a variety of fitness levels can get a great workout. Step class enthusiasts will like this DVD because Miller uses a step to increase the intensity of the workout (this assumes you have such equipment at home) though the workouts are shown without the step as well.

“Crave Results” beautifully blends strength moves with and without weights, such as bicep curls and lunges. Miller starts off slow so you can get the hang of the moves before picking up the tempo. And she’s one of the best DVD instructors I’ve seen so far at constantly reminding you to tighten your abs, stand up straight and relax your shoulders, all of which can decrease the chance of injury and lead to a better workout. “Crave Results” will definitely be a go-to in my fitness regimen.

Tammy Chase is a local free-lance writer.

Fun with numbers

2011-06-29T14:35:00.000-05:00

Today I hit the eight-month mark of being unemployed. My deep insight for the month? The job market still sucks eggs.

What's a girl to do? I thought I'd look for solace in the numbers.

Earlier this month the Labor Department revealed that the length of time Americans are unemployed has hit an all-time high of more than 9 months (39 weeks) since the department started tracking such info. I am still underperforming the market, but not for much longer, boo.

The government crunches the numbers in other ways, too. In May, the number of so-called long-term unemployed (folks out of work for 27 weeks or more -- that's six months) is 6.2 million Americans. They make up 45 percent of all of people out there without jobs. Yikes.

It makes me chuckle a bit now to see that the government also tracks "discouraged" workers -- those are folks who have stopped looking for work because they don't believe there are any jobs out there for him now. It's not funny that they're discouraged -- god knows I know discouragement right now -- but that the government actually has statistics on them. In May there were 822,000 discouraged workers, down from a little over a million a year ago. Wonder where those 200,000 folks found some hope?

Interview fatigue has become an issue for me, I think. There's no shortage of interviews out there. I'm lucky to get them. Networking -- I'm getting pretty good at it, I think. But going into a job interview situation, I find the process of trying to "sell" myself exhausting -- journalists and ex-journalists like myself struggle with this. If we were good at it we'd be in marketing and making oodles of dough, right? I don't want to sound like a used car salesman. Then again, maybe if I did, I'd have a damn job by now!

Sometimes I just want to just tell a prospective employer to just hire me and I'll show them what I can do, rather than sit on their leather couch and tell them. That's what we learned at Bloomberg News, where I was a reporter for awhile: Show, don't tell, was a often-repeated mantra. And I agree with it, as a journalist but also as a way of living. Don't tell me how awesome you are. Show me. Yeah, I don't think that approach will probably go over so well.

Soooo, I have no point in sharing all of this. I'm trying not to get too glum. After all, a friend of mine is a journalist in Afghanistan right now, where people really have problems. But if I can make just a little request -- be nice to your unemployed friends. Pass along contacts, sure, but don't give them advice like they should network (um, we already know this); don't compare them to fruit that no one wants; and above all, feel free to pick up the tab. They'll remember you and gladly reciprocate some day.

Namaste.

Where's my mojo?

2011-06-27T16:56:00.001-05:00

If you have seen my motivation, can you please return it to me?

This summer I am again volunteering as a half marathon pace group leader. It's my fourth year of this gig. It's typically been a lot of fun. What that means is that every Saturday morning I meet up with my co-group leader and we lead the week's "long" run with a bunch of runners who show up. The "long" run is just one of a few runs that are done each week over a period of a couple of months to get ready for a half marathon, which is 13.1 miles. We have a few people who have done halfs previously, though others who have not, so it's a pretty laid back group. So this week we will jump to 9 miles on Saturday, gulp. The training schedule coincides with my efforts to get back into running after having a baby in March, as it did two years ago after having my now-toddler in April of that year.

But unlike my last post-partum comeback, during which I ran a half four months after giving birth, I'm all over the place this time around. I'm still wrestling with sciatica from my recent pregnancy, though it's getting better, which has made me cautious about doing speedwork or upping mileage too much. My weekday runs are kind of all over the place -- when I had a job, it forced me to get up pre-dawn and cram in my runs. Now, I find myself procrastinating, thinking Oh I can just run later... and sometimes I actually do it. And sometimes I don't. I ran the last three days in a row after a week in Florida (where I ran exactly once for three miles, pathetic). And I was dying on all three runs.

I know what I have to do. I have to get back to a consistent run schedule. And hopefully I will land a job soon and be able to afford to register for some races. I've run eight half marathons since I began running them in 2007. I gotta get out of this slump and run at least eight more, right? I would just feel like a better group leader if I had my own running act together.

Good-bye

2011-06-24T07:26:00.001-05:00

My family got back yesterday from a weeklong family reunion at Disney World. My generous and sweet dad paid for everything and flew my extended family to one of his favorite places. The teenager had a blast hanging out with his older cousins. The toddler loved Mickey Mouse and "Big Bear", a statue of the large bear named Baloo from Jungle Book that grinned and loomed like, 100 feet high over our hotel pool. And Baby C got to meet my parents and sister's and brother's families, for whom she wriggled and smiled and charmed. My family was awesome. I miss them already.

We got home yesterday afternoon to gloomy skies and chilly temps in the 60s, a big departure from the searing Florida heat and sunshine. Holy crap is it hot in Florida. (That is my very obvious statement for the day). My mobile rang. It was my teenage son's dad. My teenager was set to move away for good this Saturday to his dad's in Iowa to work his summer job and *hopefully* go to college this fall. But a family member, his grandfather, was passing through, conveniently with a van, and offered to pick up T in a few hours. Was that OK? Dear god, I swallowed hard. But said OK, it was such a nice offer and would make things easier on everyone, logistically speaking.

I went downstairs to ask my hub to watch the kids so I could help him pack. I just started bawling and was choking, trying to ask my husband this. He thought somebody died. I've been anticipating this day for years -- why on earth was I falling apart? Anyway, he kept the kiddies busy while I went upstairs to help the teenager. Holy crap. The world will always need moms, including teenagers, thank goodness. His room was a total pigsty and that kid can't pack a suitcase to save his life. (I'm a military kid -- you learn how to pack your stuff!)

We worked side-by-side for 90 minutes or so sorting the pieces of his life. We found old toys. An old yellow blankie he begged me to buy him at Target years ago. His crucifixes from his first communion and confirmation. Old homework papers. Clothes that haven't fit in years. Clothes that hadn't been washed in years. (Ewww! Even an old jock strap.) A good deal of my best bath towels. (So that's where they've been going). Old school photos and little league pictures. We packed and packed, and I cleaned as I went. It just felt good to be able to do something for him, as my role in his life has diminished in recent years, I guess.

His grandfather arrived and the van was loaded. We stood there -- my husband, the toddler and Baby C -- and thanked his sweet grandfather for coming and said our good-byes. I felt like someone took out a piece of my insides. It was sadder than I imagined. Sure, he'll come back for visits, etc. But even if he ever returns to Chicago, I won't be raising him anymore. It's a loss that is hard to put into words. I fell so hard in love with him the first time I held him after he was born in 1992 and have been in love with him since. I hope I've given him useful stuff to help him in his life. I hope he felt loved. I hope he knows how much I love him.

Today life has to go on. I'm washing his bedding and will get his room looking nice and clean. It will just make me feel a little better. I found out yesterday my unemployment pay ran out, awesome, so I get to figure out what in the hell I'm going to do. (Updated: it was a glitch with the state! I'm still eligible for the dole. Whew.) The toddler keeps asking for the teenager this morning. I think it's going to be a bit before we all adjust here.

Plop, plop, fizz, fizz, oh what a relief it is...

2011-06-13T14:43:00.002-05:00

Hey, did you know the Alka Seltzer slogan "Plop, plop, fizz, fizz..." dates back to 1965? I remember it as a kid in the 1970s but did not know it went back so far. If you believe what you read on the Internet. Which I obviously do.

Yesterday as I was watching the Teenager graduate from high school that darn jingle kept running through my head as the ceremony neared the end. See, I've been alternatively feeling sad and glad that graduation was approaching. He was driving me bananas with teenage attitude and teenage B.S. A conversation last week over whether he could participate in the class senior prank -- which was both illegal and dangerous, and to which I said um, NO WAY dude -- devolved into a texting argument in which he informed me that he was *supposed* to do stupid stuff in high school. Nice try, buddy.

No, watching him graduate was not giving me heartburn. Nor was the wrangling my hub and I were doing to keep the Little Toddler Man and Baby C happy and reasonably quiet during the two-hour ceremony. (They were little troupers through the whole thing -- though a lot of cookies were pushed and the hub and the boy walked a lot of laps behind the row of seats in which we were located.)

Nope, I kept expecting to feel emotional or sad or something like that. Maybe it was the distraction of the diaper set, but I realized what I really felt was RELIEF. I did it. I raised a kid! I got him through graduation. OK I didn't do it alone, but with the hub and the Teenager's dad, of course. But still. I was the lead on many things -- grades, sports, being nice to people, working hard. I failed here and there, but overall, I think I did OK as a mom. So as I was thinking about relief, "plop plop" entered my head. He's done. I have taught him many things and hopefully some of the better things will stick with him. Ahhhhhhhhhh.

Earlier in the day, my three-month-old daughter giggled for the first time. It was just a tiny giggle, and I just loved it to pieces. It was also a very nice reminder that I have two kids who will need me every day for a long time.

Now, I know that this isn't the end -- I'll still be a mom to the boy who now towers over me -- but everything changes now and I don't have the day-to-day "did you do your homework/take out the garbage/brush your teeth/flush the toilet/rub my feet" stuff. OK, I never made him rub my feet, scouts' honor.

But I am going to make him run with me at 5 a.m. tomorrow. Heh heh.

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Newton, Iowa

2011-06-05T22:26:00.000-05:00

My teenager graduates this weekend. Six days from today, to be precise. Every mama who's graduated a kid knows this feeling, I'm sure: a combination of "Oh, thank god" and "Where did the time go?"

Yesterday he was packing up parts of his room, since he'll spend the summer with his dad in Iowa and start at the U of Iowa in the fall. We still haven't hammered out how to finance his school year yet. Apparently being unemployed is not enough to get some serious financial aid. But that's not the topic of this post.

In 1992, I lived in Newton, Iowa, then home to Maytag Corp.'s corporate headquarters and a county seat about 30 miles east of Des Moines. I was a reporter at the local paper, though that summer I moved on to a weekly newspaper in Des Moines, aka the Big City in Iowa. I don't remember the pregnancy test I took that February morning -- I know I didn't go into work that morning to do my usual cop beat. I just remember sitting on a hand-me-down couch, with its slightly scratchy nubby fabric, kindly donated to my first barren apartment by a newspaper colleague. I remember dialing my fiance's phone number. He was my college sweetheart. We hadn't been engaged long. Things had been kind of tough between us -- we lived about three hours apart, which was among our challenges. I got him on the phone and told him I was pregnant. I was terrified. And crying. I made a pittance as a reporter and was barely getting by. How on earth was I going to support a baby?

I also remember calling my parents from that same spot -- I truly can't remember if it was before or after I called my fiance. My mother, who for Pete's sake was only 42 or 43 (um, my age now!) was giddy about the prospect of her first grandchild. My dad, who just happened to be home, too, spoke to me soberly but kindly. I'll never forget how he told me he'd support me no matter what, and that he loved me. I was so sure my parents would be disappointed in me. Sure, I was 23 at that point and had graduated college and had a job -- but I was still a kid in so many ways.

We got married the next month, a city hall affair, on a really chilly, gray March day.. I wore an off-white suit-ish kind of dress with only a half slip, so pictures of the back of me have a lovely slip line at my thickening waistline. My new husband eventually got a job in Des Moines -- and so did I. We had a crash course that summer in living together, being married and getting ready for a baby. That fall I thought I was going into labor a million times. It got a little embarassing how many times I was sent home because I had indigestion, not labor. I was hospitalized a couple of weeks before I was due because I had pre-eclampsia -- I had a second job at a pizza joint. It was homecoming weekend and they weren't happy to lose someone to work such a busy weekend. But I knew my pizza days were done for now.

Finally I was induced on my due date after a couple of days of labor pains. There was a presidential debate on -- Clinton, Perot and Bush (remember Perot???). I was in really hard labor at that point and struggled to watch it in a haze of whatever miserably failing pain med they had given me in the hospital. To this day I still do not miss a debate, no matter what! But don't quiz me on what was discussed that night. Finally, 22 hours after being admitted to the Newton hospital, T was born. It was one of the happiest days of my life. I couldn't believe this beautiful little boy belonged to me, this wiggly, slimy thing the nurse handed me. I never knew I could love so hard and deeply until that day.

Now that beautiful boy is packing up his room (OK, as I write this he is watching YouTube videos). He has a little beard stubble, just barely. He's tall and lanky and could stand to brush his teeth a bit more often. But he's also handsome and whipsmart and I know he'll be great at whatever he decides he wants to be someday.

In between his birthday in October 1992 and now have been a crazy load of events that included a divorce from his dad, unfortunately not my proudest moment -- I had a lot of growing up to do; a move to Milwaukee and later Chicago; Catholic school; Chicago public schools; swimming lessons; little league football, baseball and basketball; the horrible murder of a classmate in the eighth grade; the death of his godfather to cancer; my remarriage (after years of dating my husband) and the birth of his little brother and sister, now 2 years old and three months old; his first girlfriend, four years of cross country and track; learning to play the tenor sax and subsequent band concerts. We lived in a lot of different apartments. I remember trying to explain September 11 to him. I put him on a plane to D.C. when he was about sixth grade for a special scholars program, funded in part by his dad and the rest by my generous husband, since I couldn't afford to send him. I sobbed after seeing him get on a plane and go so far away from me. I can go on. Most moms and dads can. (He had a great time. I still have the earrings he bought me from one of the Smithsonian museums.)

It's been tough around here lately. He's been difficult. I've been perplexed. And sad. And pissed off. Why when we have these few weeks left does it have to be so difficult? Where is that boy who, when it was just me and him (say, if my husband, his stepdad, was out for an evening, for example), would snuggle up next to me on the couch when he was as tall as me as we munched pizza and watched a movie? Now he posts crap on Facebook that repulses me. He had senioritis, which I keep telling him is not a real condition. And yet, I keep trying to convince myself that it's supposed to be difficult. If everything was peaches and cream parents would never want their kids to leave and kids would never want to leave, right? And someday there would be no grownups to run the planet, haha.

Soooo, I will just take it day by day and enjoy the good moments, like tonight, having grilled barbecue chicken on the patio, and planning some stuff for this week to celebrate graduation. And I'll just let myself get teary when I feel it coming on. My hub expects it and is very sweet about it. The bad moments will remind me why it's time for him to go. And I'm already eyeballing his room and what I can do to it when he leaves, heh heh. But I'll never forget that day in Newton, Iowa, when I first got to hold him and I had no idea what the next 18 years would bring. What if someone could tell you that when you're first holding your baby? Would it be a good thing, or make you run for the hills?

Tammy Homemaker

2011-05-26T11:57:00.002-05:00

Recently the hub and I found a financial advisor and did some grownup stuff, like rolling over old 401(k)s into IRAs and getting advice on saving for retirement.

So Edward Jones sent me a form to make sure they had my name correct, address, etc. I was looking it over this morning while the little toddler man ate his yogurt when my eyes hit the line "Current occupation: HOMEMAKER." In all caps, even.

Okay, it's bugging me WAY more than it should. I mean, why do I give a shit what Edward Jones thinks I do for a living, right? But it is bugging me. Sunday will mark seven months since I lost my job. In that time I've probably interviewed with a dozen places, countless interviews and yet so far I have no job. (Though one company CEO did actually send me a gently worded rejection letter. I really respected that, actually.) What I have apparently is an identity crisis, haha. Unemployed? On maternity "leave" -- though on leave from WHAT I'm not sure, since I haven't been able to just stop looking for a job with a new mouth to feed? Freelancer? Blogger? Whiner?

And now I'm a homemaker, too, and a lousy one at that. You should see the dust on the TV in my bedroom. My mom raised me better than this. But I feel guilty cleaning my house. I know that sounds really stupid, but I do. I feel like if I spend the time that should be spent really cleaning this place, I am 1. not bringing in money and 2. not getting closer to getting a job. (Mind you, I have no problem spending time blogging about this crap, however! I am lame, I know.) My house is picked up, mostly, but it always needs dusting, sweeping and mopping.

So I'm chewing over what to put in the "occupation" line. "Smartass" doesn't seem quite right. What am I?

A really nice Saturday

2011-05-21T20:02:00.000-05:00

Today my toddler saw his dad blow the fluff off of dandelions at the park. He giggled everytime his dad did that -- he even fell down at points, he was laughing so hard. It was awesome. It really was one of the best trips ever to the park, with little Baby C snoozing against my chest in the Baby Bjorn carrier. Even the teenager joined us for one of the trips and it was nice to chat. Even though we are stressing about financial aid stuff -- but nope, not going to let that ruin this post, nope.

I also kicked off my annual gig as a half marathon pace group leader, my fourth year of doing it. An easy four miles today on the lakefront. It felt great. I love being a leader, too, especially helping people who have never run a half before. They always make it to the start and finish lines.

But... the physical therapist thinks running is aggravating the disc in my back -- I argue it was having a baby, haha. Well, the baby started it well into the third trimester, sure, but unfortunately I think he's right because tonight it hurts like hell. I am sitting on an ice pack. Sooooo I will not run this week and do some non-pounding stuff to see if my back/pelvis feels better. Ugh. I actually enjoying pounding the pavement, I guess! It will be harder not to run than it should be. Darn it.

Belly up to the barre, baby -- new workout DVD reviews

2011-05-10T13:30:00.001-05:00

Yes, I have a gut. But if you were 43 and just had your third kid, so would you. So there. Haha. A couple of DVDs I reviewed -- great workouts!

P.S. I am eating a giant bowl of vanilla ice cream and chocolate sauce right now. YUM.

Let go already, mama! And a good-bye to Hollydog

2011-05-09T12:36:00.001-05:00

I had a great Mother's Day. My husband was awesome and bought me a new purple dress -- I hadn't been shopping in so long! It has dolman sleeves and is above the knee and, if I may say so, I look awesome in it. My teenager bought me a really cool necklace and was a sweetie pie all day. The Little Toddler Man and Baby C were just awesome, cute little kids -- even though Little Toddler Man "forgot" to sleep past 6 a.m. Oops. We did blueberry pancakes, church and then grilled out and entertained some friends. It was nice.

I also called my mom. She and my dad just had to put one of their dogs to sleep, Holly. "Hollydog", as some of us called her, was a black Lab and was 15 years old. She was just about one of the best dogs I've ever known, so sweet and playful. I feel terribly for my parents' loss. I'm not surprised my mom didn't want to talk much yesterday, but I am thinking a lot of her and my dad right now. RIP, sweet baby Hollydog.

I also did something else for Mother's Day. Actually I started this a few days ago. The teenager called me a couple of days ago as he was coming home from a track meet via city busses. He was a dime short on his transit card and called me in the middle of dinner/bath/prime toddler-wrangling time and asked if I could get a him. The traffic at that time of day on the street where he was is horrendous. I was like, ugh. but hey, I'm not going to leave him stranded. I quickly nursed Baby C, passed Toddler Man to his dad, who had some work to finish up that night, bless his heart, and headed out to pick up the teenager. I was annoyed and scolding him in my head -- I always encourage him to carry a backup transit card, plus always keep a few extra bucks for an emergency, more mom stuff, blah blah blah.

As I was crawling along the really congested street, it hit me how stupid it would be to lecture him. He's graduating from high school in about five weeks, I think? A few weeks after that he will move to his dad's for the summer and start college out of state in the fall. Aas all of this dawned on me, I felt like somebody dropped a weight on my chest -- it was such a strong emotion that hit me. He's really just about gone. I mean, I know, there will be holidays and breaks and Skype and texts, but he will likely never live with me full-time again -- more significantly, he'll never be a little kid to me again. I'm so excited for him and so proud of him and so eager for him to go to college and to have all of these great experiences. He's going to the U of Iowa and I know he will just love it.

But I gotta admit, I'm in mourning, too. Now I really understand how parents struggle with the "empty nest" and how empty it feels when a child is gone and it's never going to be the same again. I know it will hit me hard again some more. But I decided that heck, I gotta just let the little crap go and enjoy the time I have left with him. It makes me smile to see him excited about college. He already pads around in Iowa Hawkeye high-top tennis shoes. I know he's just about mentally checked out of high school and oh, I remember that feeling, don't you? The end of senior year is so exciting and heady.

So I'm just continuing to make myself chill and keep saying prayers to the financial aid gods that they will help this kid get what he needs to start in the fall since god knows when I am going to find a job. Oh, and I'm hugging my little babies extra tight. They won't leave for a very, very long time. :-)

I can't just do one thing at a time any more

2011-05-05T16:02:00.002-05:00

Surely I can't be the only one who does this. Today I'm finishing up a story on prom dress trends (really quickly, it's long ball gowns or mini-dresses, sequins or metallic embellishments, jewel tones or flesh tones, ivories and whites]. See, I can't even write a sentence without interrupting myself. I'm finishing this story and hunting down photos as Baby C insists on short catnaps and pooping her diaper every 30 minutes, I swear. I am frazzled!

It's either multi-tasking -- that's the nice way to put it -- or just plain being all nuts and all over the place. Another example: Last night Baby C was all fussy right before dinner. The hub just finished making enchilada casserole, YUM. I saw that the dishes I had hand-washed were dry and started to try to put away a cutting board while holding the baby -- I dropped the cutting board (but not the baby!) and my husband was all, why are you trying to do that while holding the baby? Of course I got all indignant because Baby C was safe and fine and geez, if I don't stay on top of the kitchen it's a fricking mess. (I swear, I can't walk into the kitchen without a dirty dish out, or a counter that needs to be wiped, or the dishwasher needs emptying, or something! It drives me crazy). Anyway, he was right, but don't tell him that. The cutting board could wait.

I find I can't just focus on one thing at a time anymore. I always feel like I should be doing at least five things at once.Today's list includes: writing, being a baby mama, following up with prospective employers (translated: you interviewed me, are you going to hire me? God, I hate this part), finding time to do yoga (crap, how is it 4 p.m. already? No time for yoga now, must pick up toddler man soon), ordering a stroller part (also not done), folding the laundry (nope) and some other crap I'm forgetting. Oh yeah, I was going to get the little toddler man's haircut. Or was that tomorrow? Help, I'm drowning in my own nuttiness! And the baby is crying again...

OK. Deep breaths. No one died today. Calm. Serenity now. Where are those prom picture photos the PR people were supposed to email me? Breathe. OK. Speaking of multi-tasking, I learned that my teenaged son has *two* Facebook pages. The first one he's friends with his family, including even me. The second one he created and then blocked me and his dad for sure -- not sure who else -- so he can post all the swear words and rants he wants to without me or my sister telling him to clean it up, or to take some ridiculous post down.

I was more hurt by this than I should be. I think it was not because he made a second Facebook page, but that he went through the trouble to make sure I couldn't see it. I don't know, it just made me feel badly. I'm mostly over it now.

Besides, he thinks he's the only one with more than one Facebook page? Heh heh, kid.

A great weekend and a little race report

2011-05-02T11:51:00.000-05:00

I ran a 5k race yesterday. It was my first race since Baby C was born in March. It rocked.

In fact, I had a pretty awesome weekend, one of the best in a while! My sister flew into town on Friday. I have really grown to enjoy my sister the older I get. She's just easy for me to be around -- I am so comfortable with her. And holy bonus points, did she ever jump in and help out around here. I have no idea how many diapers she must have changed between the baby and my toddler, but she never once complained. Hell, she even volunteered to change them.

She held my kids, rocked them, read to them, fed them. She and I had lots of nice talks. We went to the park with the kids. And... she volunteered to babysit on Saturday night! We haven't been out on a date night since, oh, probably last August. Babysitters are expensive and we don't have relatives in town, so we are homebodies. It was so much fun to dress up and go have a drink and dinner with my husband. (And, having not done that for awhile -- it dawned on me what a spoiled puss I have been in recent years, going out to eat regularly like it was a birthright. When you don't get to do it, you really appreciate it for the treat that it is! That made it extra special.)

Her presence was calming for us, too. My hub just finished up a big story -- he's a journalist -- so he was able to happily throw himself into the yardwork. Seriously, he gets excited about a mulch sale at Home Depot. I got my date night and got to go running twice. We stopped talking about the same crap we always talk about -- his insane workload and my insane job search. It was the breather we needed.

And, I ran a very sweet post-partum 5k yesterday in the Ravenswood neighborhood of Chicago -- 29:24, or an average 9:28 pace. I am so happy about this time -- two minutes slower than my PR, but for six weeks post-partum? I'm just pumped. I ran this race once before, five years ago, I discovered -- 31:25 or 10:03 pace, when I had just sort of started running.

I ran the race with my pal Darryck, who is also getting back into running. We used to train for marathons together with a few other folks regularly. Race day was a beautiful May morning in Chicago -- sunny, light wind, 50s. Perfect. I started physical therapy last week for my lingering sciatica, leg nerve pain related to my last pregnancy, so I was telling myself to take it easy. The therapist was not enthusiastic that I am running so soon. But people, please, I've lost my job -- if I lose running, too, I will be cuckoo. So, I've laid off speed work for now. And I vowed an easy race, even though I wanted to tear across the start line like someone shot me in the butt. Darryck and I did a nice 9:45 to 9:50 pace for the first two miles -- these are not blistering speeds by a long shot, but they felt challenging to us. We got passed by both little kids and by folks with a lot more gray in their hair than mine -- but we didn't care. God, it was fun to be out there again.

After the second mile marker Darryck told me to go ahead, and I did, though I wound up only about 30 seconds ahead of him, I think. I crossed the finish line panting and staggering a bit. It was AWESOME. And I made my sub-30 goal, woohoo! I may be *still* looking for work but dammit, I can race again!

That afternoon I took my sister to the airport. I couldn't stop tearing up after she walked into the airport. It was so great to have her around to talk to, to feel less frazzled, and to let my worries just slip away for awhile. I realized that being unemployed and a involuntary stay-at-home mommy is really lonely. It's my fault -- I've sort of fallen through the cracks and disappeared. So I'm resolving to get out more and see friends. One of these days, anyway!

Six months have gone by

2011-04-29T10:12:00.000-05:00

I have this annoying memory. I can't tell you where my keys are, ever, but I remember dates, good and bad. So today marks six months exactly that I was laid off. Boo. How on earth has six months gone by already?

More importantly, what does my work wardrobe even look like and where did I stash it? Signed, living in track and yoga pants.

So I should have some kind of deep insights, self-reflections, something like that. Nope. Our poor little toddler man was up crying off and on all night, coughing. I took him to the doctor this morning -- fortunately, no ear infection, which is what I suspected. Just a nasty cold and cough. Baby C, six weeks old as of yesterday, is healthy and going through a growth spurt. Which means she wants to eat all.the.time. I feel like a cow. And my teenager just texted me to say he puked at school and can I come get him? My sister will be arriving in a couple of hours and I haven't finished cleaning it, I haven't had a chance to shower, am just now getting to eat breakfast at 10 and my chances of getting a run this morning are dminishing rapidly.

But hey, we're handling it and trying to keep our sense of humor around here. And if I can handle all that, surely, that would make me a very good employee for someone, right?

Things are looking up

2011-04-22T08:58:00.000-05:00

So, do I dare write it... oops, I already did, in the headline. Hopefully I have not jinxed myself. I am having a good week. Baby C is five weeks old and I swear she smiled at me twice yesterday. Her smile is just gorgeous. How did I manage to have such a pretty baby girl? Love her!

The toddler man is adorable. He has been "hugging" his baby sis. Today he was calling her "sissy" after I was explaining to him that she is his sister. That's what I call my sister sometimes, so that really made me smile and feel happy that he will have a sister. Who is coming to visit us next week! I am ridiculously excited. It is tough living in a city with no family. I wonder how much work she minds doing, haha.

The teenager is in Iowa with his dad for spring break. Based on my Facebook snooping -- because teenagers really can't keep much to themselves -- it must be going OK, though he mentioned rabbit-hunting with a pistol in his grandma's garden. (They live in the country, but still, eep! I hope someone's watching him closely with that thing. The teenager is a city kid, not a country kid!)

I also had job interviews at three different places this week. Feeling good about that. Won't say any more as I am very superstitious about job stuff. I will hit the "been unemployed six-month mark" next week.

And, I *think* my post-partum roller coaster ride is slowing down, too. Maybe it's over. I hope so. There were some really dark moments in the last couple of weeks when I felt so down. But the last few days have been much better and less weepy.

And my running is going awesome! Let's talk about that. I am elated at how strong I feel. I've been doing a ton of cross-training, including yoga and Pilates and strength training (Jackie Warner, love this DVD) to help build my strength overall, and I'm running three times a week, 3-4 miles at a time. I started some interval work last week. I'd like to run a strong half marathon this fall and, maybe, even beat my personal best time of 2:12. Dream goal would be to go under 2 hours. We'll see how it goes.

Operation Just Breathe is not going well

2011-04-13T09:13:00.001-05:00

I promised myself this week I would chill the you-know-what out on everything, from adjusting to a new baby (who is just the prettiest, sweetest little thing!) to this job hunt thing. So how am I doing? I'll give myself a big fat D.

I am just writing through some frustrations here -- no need to call the mental health professionals yet. So, for the five people who actually read this blog LOL, bear with me. But man, I am kind of a headcase right now. There is this stupid voice in my head that tells me I will never get hired anywhere. It's the same stupid voice that as a kid told me I was fat (I wasn't) and ugly (nope, I was kind of cute, too bad I didn't know it then). I hate that voice. I hope my kids don't have that voice. What a waste of energy to listen to it. But I couldn't help it yesterday. I felt so down, and kept hoping it was just post-partum stuff.

I had gotten my teenager's financial aid papers in order and FINALLY ready to mail to the U of Iowa, and I had to write a letter pleading poverty and ask for special consideration for financial aid. I just feel awful that I don't know how I can get his college financed this fall. I'm terrified. He's worked so hard in school, he's an accomplished student, runner and now musician, and the combination of my lack of preparedness and losing my job six months ago is so unfair to him. I feel like a lousy mom, though I know lots of families face the same pressures right now. It sank my mood, so after finishing that and a bunch of other crap I laid down with Baby C and stared at her sweet little sleeping face. My god, she is so pretty, she nearly takes my breath away. I willed her serenity and innocence and purity to wash over me, just anything to stomp out the anxiety bubbling up in my throat, but nothing. I was so frustrated -- I'm damn lucky, why the hell am I wallowing???

Reminder: I'm just writing through some stuff. I am not going to jump off a ledge and not seeking sympathy here. Just working through it.

I got the paperwork mailed early yesterday evening. I'm still scared. But it's a weight off my shoulders, temporarily. The toddler man was adorable last night, the baby was sweet and snoozed a bit in the evening and the husband and I had a nice dinner of tilapia tacos while we watched a Foo Fighters documentary. I think I have a crush on Dave Grohl. Anyway, it was nice.

This morning the anxiety is back. I felt myself growing impatient with the toddler -- though after 20 times of telling him to not touch the TV, who wouldn't get a little impatient? (He pushes some button that makes the sound disappear, and hitting the mute and volume buttons doesn't bring it back on. Very maddening.) Then he is grumpy that Spongebob is not on and it's like, how do you explain to a 2-year-old that Spongebob *would* be on if he stopped touching the doggone TV buttons? Argh! But he's so darn cute, I can never stay mad at him. I hugged him a bunch and felt better. Anyway, he's at daycare now, Baby C is sleeping and I'm going for a RUN. Back later, and in a better mood, I'm sure!

Thanks for indulging me on a ridiculous rant. Ugh. I will be normal again some day, right?

Workouts new moms can do with the baby - Chicago Sun-Times

2011-04-12T14:08:00.000-05:00

Workouts new moms can do with the baby - Chicago Sun-Times

On the job hunt

2011-04-11T12:48:00.002-05:00

A little more than a week ago I started worrying about the job hunt again. Baby C is awesome and gorgeous and healthy, and just the sweetest little thing. But even her sweetness isn't enough to melt away the nagging worry of finding a job. Within a day or so of feeling anxious, I suddenly got a couple of calls from new headhunters, referred to me by friends (thank you!). Also, I heard back from a company to which I started talking last summer -- they apparently are looking to unfreeze the position for which I had interviewed months ago. Plus, I have another iron in the fire that I don't want to jinx myself on -- so all in all, I was definitely feeling like maybe my luck was going to change.

Job hunting and interviews can be seductive, though, and I am trying to keep my expectations reasonable. It is so soothing and exciting at the same time to have someone call you and say they want to talk to you about a job , especially when they praise your resume and experience. It's like flirting or early-stage dating, you
know? And I've gone down this road before in the nearly six months I've now been unemployed, so I am reluctant to bask too much in the compliments and encouragement -- but hey, who am I kidding. Boy, do I like it!

So anyway, I had a few interviews set up last week, and I was feeling like awesome super mama/career woman. The morning of one interview, my little toddler man started howling around 4 a.m.-ish and was up and down for a good hour. This was, of course, after Baby C didn't want to go to sleep until after 11 (her mama is so NOT a night owl) and after the usual few middle-of-the-might feedings. I got up and saw horrible bags under my eyes. Nothing says "hire me" like the haggard mom look. Maybe this is why job-hunting and maternity leave usually don't go together, haha!

The toddler man was wild at breakfast, throwing food around. And oh man, does he fight diaper and clothing changes in the morning. And since he's got the strength of a small man now, it is an exhausting fight I'm usually happy to let his dad have! I was frantically trying to throw together an attractive interview outfit and do something with my hair and makeup, which I never do anymore. (Yep, I've become THAT mom! Wah!) I swear, Baby C needed to nurse every second I could give her, Toddler Man was running wild, my hair was crazed because I had just gotten it cut the day before and couldn't style it worth a damn and then I had to, of course, have the obligatory "I look so old and fat" meltdown. Yup. Embarrassing and not my finest moment.

My husband came upstairs in the midst of all of this. He sometimes gets impatient with me when I'm super frazzled, but that day he smiled kindly and said something to the effect of "I expected this". He gave me a big hug and said I looked beautiful. Awwww. I so love this man. Sometimes it annoys me that he knows me so well, but that day it was just a relief.

Then, on the train, as I goofed off on my BlackBerry, I felt pretty silly. I'm just out of practice of getting up, getting ready and I have an extra kid in the mix. Of course it's going to be chaotic, right? And then I got this message from my husband: You'll do great. People like you and this guy is already impressed. You have fantastic experience and you can be very confident about that. Just try to relax and enjoy the meeting. xxxx oooo

I want to print that out and carry it around with me. Everyone needs someone in their corner like that. I try not to be too sappy but I had to share that. I married a good one! And, the meeting went great, and I am looking forward to a hopeful followup. And there are more interviews and opportunities coming, which is awesome and exciting.

In the meantime, spring has hit Chicago and I'm trying to just breathe and enjoy the kids and family. My oldest graduates from high school in two months and OMG, I am going to miss him horribly when he leaves. I finally got back to running outside yesterday (after a couple of weeks of inside running). Everything is a little wonky since I am still battling freaking sciatica nearly four weeks post-partum, but man, you couldn't have kept me inside yesterday -- it was sunny and in the 60s in the morning, perfect for running in shorts and my new cute little running shirt my husband got me for my birthday. Which was super flattering on, which is what really matters, hee hee.

So this week, my goal is to just breathe. I'll let you know how that goes.

Baby C goes to the unemployment office

2011-03-31T10:37:00.000-05:00

Ready to head to the unemployment office!

Life with a newborn and toddler is like the guy at a high school track meet who does the "on your mark, get set, go" and shoots the crappy pistol into the air -- it's like that guy is standing next to our bed every morning. Sometimes that shot comes in the form of my little toddler man howling "mommy! mommy!" from the next room, sometimes it's Baby C and her newborn squeaks and mews. Then, as all parents know, you bolt out of bed for a day of run, run, run until you drop in exhaustion that night. Recycle, repeat.

Sometimes that warning shot is a thought, like, oh crap, today I have to go to the unemployment office, like today. Baby C woke to nurse at 3 and again at 4:45, and I couldn't fall asleep after the last feeding. I've been able to avoid going there and instead do everything online, until I hit a snag. In Illinois, you have to "certify" every two weeks that you are still eligible for benefits by answering a routine set of questions, such as "Did you work?" and "Did you look for work?" Under "Did your dependency status change?" I checked yes, because Baby C was born two weeks ago. Well, that froze my benefits so I didn't get them this week like I was supposed to. Awesome.

I called customer service and was told I needed to go into the local office and prove that I had a kid. OK, except boy, I really didn't want to take my two-week-old out too much, much less the unemployment office, picturing long lines of people hacking all over the place. I don't currently have a sitter, nor can I afford one -- especially now that the state is holding our benefits hostage -- so my awesome friend Vanessa said she'd watch the baby today. Except her toddler woke up with a fever, poor kiddo, so V offered to watch the baby a different day. But I have bills due starting tomorrow, ugh, so I told myself to suck it up, cupcake, you're not the only person who has ever had to go to an unemployment office with a baby. Gulp.

Baby C and I dropped off her brother at daycare and headed on over. I told C she was absolutely allowed to throw a loud, newborn hissy fit if things took too long or got frustrating. And normally I am not super comfortable nursing in public -- I don't mind if other mommies do, I'm just a prude when it comes to myself -- but I was ready to whip out a boob and feed her if I needed to and make folks uncomfortable if push came to shove. I was prepared for this experience to suck.

Turns out, it was lightly crowded and we only had to wait about 15 minutes to see someone. The woman at the front desk oohed and ahhed over my little one, who was of course as cute as a button in her little hat and jammies. I mean, really, look at her. She's so stinking cute. A few minutes with a really nice guy at the unemployment office and we were on our way! Baby C was awake the whole time but held her fire. So did mama. Good baby. Good mama.

Two weeks old today!

Wonder Woman goes for a run

2011-03-30T20:52:00.000-05:00

OK, I don't really think of myself as Wonder Woman. I just liked the headline.

But I was thinking about Wonder Woman yesterday morning -- the Wonder Woman played by Lynda Carter in the 1970s show. That was one of my very favorite shows in the fourth grade. When I was little I used to debate in my head whether it would be better to be Wonder Woman, Jamie Sommers (the Bionic Woman) or Samantha Stephens in Bewitched. I'm pretty sure I discussed this -- probably quite seriously -- with my sister that it might be best to be Samantha because with your powers you could make yourself bionic or fly, but you could also make a cake appear if you wanted one, or make your mom disappear if she was yelling at you. Grade school wisdom.

Yesterday was my 43rd birthday. So I figured I would start it off right and sneak off to the gym at 5 a.m., after Baby C's 3 a.m. feeding and before she and little toddler man woke at 6-ish. The perfect plan. And whaddya know, it worked! But boy am I out of practice getting up that early to exercise. This will take some self-discipline to get back into my sunrise (sometimes pre-sunrise) routine.

I was being all sensible, telling myself I would walk on the gym track. But walking is boring. So I walked for awhile and just thought well, I'll try running a lap super easy. I haven't run in about eight weeks and not since giving birth.The track is 12 laps = a mile, so it wasn't anything crazy. I chugged oh-so-slowly around that track. It was hard, like post-partum runs are. My legs felt heavy and uncoordinated, my pelvis groaned, my insides felt a little jumbled, but oh boy, was my head excited. I alternated running and walking and eeked out the equivalent of a mile of very slow running. Yay! Go me and my 43-year-old self.

So what does Wonder Woman have to do with running? It's weird what crawls through your mind when you're running. Seriously, I have no idea why this child debate popped up in my head this morning. But there I was, mentally debating that again. I decided Wonder Woman was best because she had powers to overcome anything and she looked amazing with her perfect, hourglass shape. And if I keep running and doing yoga, I'll get a decent bod back. Which is what's *really* important, right? LOL.

Outta the gate...

2011-03-25T10:52:00.000-05:00

You know how it feels when you've been really sick for awhile, and then that new day comes along and you don't feel like crap? You feel like a million bucks instead? Eight days post-partum, I am feeling way more spunky and energetic than I have in ages -- even with some sleep deprivation. Last night Baby C was a night owl and kept mommy and daddy up till near midnight, and then the little toddler man decided to start wailing at just before 5 a.m. this morning and kept wailing until daddy gave in near 6. I think our coffee bill is going to go up a bit the next few months.

I even got my first post-partum workout in yesterday, woohoo!, and another one today. I'm just doing some post-natal workouts from some pre-natal workout DVDs I already had, “10 Minute Solution: Prenatal Pilates” ($8.99, amazon.com) and Gabrielle Reece's Fit & Healthy Pre-Natal Workouts, which has three post-natal workouts. I'll be doing a review soon on some workout DVDs you can do with your kids and including these as good workouts to try and get your core strength back post-baby. Even just holding my tiny eight-pounder, I can tell by my lower back that my abs are shot and I need to work on getting them back. And I am so ready to start walking again -- it's still pretty chilly here for March, but spring-like weather will be here soon, right?

It's hard to know exactly what to do without over-doing it -- all new mommies are facing physical limitations, from stitches from a C-section or episiotomy, to sciatica (me, though it's finally getting better!), and other factors, such as how much you exercised during pregnancy. It's always best to check with your doctor on this; fortunately, mine is pretty laid back and knows I'm a runner, so her advice was do what feels good and be sensible. So I will not be running this week, haha, though I really hope to try a gentle run/walk by next weekend. I signed up for a 5k race on May 1 with absolutely no expectations for speed or to get anywhere near my PR (personal record), since that would be stupid. But I just miss running outside and the thrill of a race, so I am looking forward to whatever happens that day. :-)

Happy workout! I'm back, baby!

Lady in waiting no more: My baby is born.

2011-03-21T12:24:00.001-05:00

As I neared my baby girl’s due date, it seemed like the world had gone mad, with the devastating earthquake and tsunamis in Japan and the frightening potential nuclear disaster from that, bombings and political upheaval in Libya and closer to home, a crazy governor in Wisconsin stripping away workers’ rights in actions that have drawn national attention. (Full disclosure: I am a former member of the Communications Workers of America, and one of my college roommates is a secondary ed teacher in Wisconsin who is a fantastic person and who works her tail off at her job, so I am very biased. Thinking of you, Carlene!)

On Wednesday, March 16, some more sad news emerged: the passing of Jim Tyree, a Chicago businessman who bought the Chicago Sun-Times and other area newspapers and web sites out of bankruptcy in 2009. I was the corporate spokeswoman for the parent company back then and until last fall, and was truly sad to read that. I was going into early labor that point and figuring I would be having a St. Patty’s Day baby – I did, more on that below. I just couldn’t believe he was gone. I didn’t know Jim really well – he was very friendly but stuck mostly with the corporate types running Sun-Times, corporate guys like to do that – but I always thought highly of him for saving the Sun-Times. His investor group was the only one to make a bid for us during the bankruptcy process – without him, the Sun-Times would have died, a very, very sad prospect. I started working there 10 years ago as a reporter, and like many newsroom colleagues, couldn’t bear that idea.

As Wednesday night progressed and I timed contractions, got my rowdy toddler to bed and started packing a hospital bag, I got a message on Facebook from a local reporter, wanting to talk about Tyree’s death and what it meant for the company. Now, I got laid off last fall and so it’s not like I’m exactly in the loop. It’s standard practice in journalism to talk to on-the-record and off-the-record folks to develop stories, so that wasn’t strange – think about how many times you’ve seen or heard a news story about, say, Pres. Obama and “White House sources.” It was just strange to be going into labor and digesting that Jim was gone, you know, and then get asked to sort of do my old job again. What on earth would I even say? I demurred on that, reminding me that they tossed me out last fall, remember, and kept packing, waiting for my husband to get home from teaching his night course at a local university. We went to the hospital and were admitted around midnight. Hooray, I was indeed going to have a St. Pat’s birthday girl! My awesome friend Jenni (love her!!!) came over at 11 p.m., bless her heart, to stay with our toddler and between her and my teenage son get him up and out the door to daycare the next day.

Throughout the night my contractions stayed pretty tame, so I could have slept but I was too keyed up about the excitement of finally having my baby and thinking about Jim. My husband snoozed, which I encouraged, since I was going to need his strength as the delivery got closer. I got pretty bored at points and started randomly posting on Facebook. Funny to see who is up at that time! By 4-5 a.m. I started getting posts back from my early morning running buddies. God, I’ve missed them and our early morning runs – can’t wait to get back out there someday.

I got an epidural around 8 a.m. Thursday – my hospital gown was green, sweet -- as the contractions increased in punch, and my water was broken after that. I thought, great, now we are in business! I was all confident that I’d have a baby by lunchtime. I was starving already – you don’t get to eat during labor – so it was go-time as far as I was concerned. Thing is, baby girl didn’t want to be rushed. Noon came and went, and I was still only dilated at 4 cm. Finally, nearer to 1, I made a bunch of progress and was dilated at 9 cm, which seemed to signal that I’d be able to start pushing soon.

Nope, said baby girl, you are NOT rushing me.

By mid-afternoon my husband and I were getting grouchy waiting, even though it was the first day of March Madness and we had basketball on TV. (I forgot to print out my pool sheet so I couldn’t remember which teams I’d picked, rats!) And oh man, by then I wanted a gigantic ham sandwich and a diet coke in the worst way. I finally asked him to go get a Coke Zero from the vending machine so I could sneak a sip.

While he was gone I got a Facebook message from a former Sun-Times newsroom colleague informing me that they’d joined my ranks today. I’m like, um, I’m in labor, what are you talking about? Turns out, Sun-Times laid off some journalists that day – apparently the company didn’t want to postpone layoffs despite Jim’s death the previous day. I was stunned and started poking around to see who else lost their jobs. I felt awful for them – it’s so heart-breaking to be let go. I know how much I grieved when I was laid off.

My husband came back into my room with the Coke Zero and I was practically drooling as he opened the lid to give me a sip when a resident and nurse came back into my room to see how I was doing, labor-wise. RATS. No Coke Zero for me. Turns out I was inching closer, but boy, she just was hanging in there. Wah! All afternoon my very attentive nurse kept checking on me, telling me to lay on one side, nope, lay on this side, OK, try sitting up, alright, I’m going to have you lay down now. MAN, was I getting impatient. I was tired of trying to move around – the epidural renders you somewhat immobile – it’s like your legs are encased in concrete, so moving around even with help was no fun.

Finally, after 5 p.m., it was time to push! My husband and I happily eyed each other – it was really going to happen now!! I used every ab muscle and breathing technique from yoga (yoga is just awesome for this stuff) and was able to deliver her by 5:29 p.m. At the risk of oversharing, I forget how fricking hard it is to push out a baby. It was short, maybe 15-20 minutes, but oh man, it took every ounce of strength to push her out into the world.

And then she was here, weighing in at more than 8 pounds and a smidge over 20 inches along – my boys were each six pound babies, so I was stunned that I had just birthed a bigger baby. My beautiful baby C was born in time for happy hour on St. Patrick’s Day! Gotta laugh at that. I couldn’t stop crying, I was so happy to see her. My own March madness was over for the short term. My husband and I fell in love with her on the spot and held her as much as we could, and began alerting family (and many Facebook friends, of course!) of our happy news. My teenager came over later that night to meet his sister, 18 years younger than him, and it was just so sweet to see him look at my daughter. And, to once again contemplate that I would wind up a mom of three kids, two of them so much younger than my oldest. It’s just funny how life works – I doubt anyone would ever plan to space out their kids so much!

The next day Sun-Times would briefly intersect my life one more time. As I was holding baby C my BlackBerry rang. (Yes, I recognize that some folks are probably asking, why on earth don’t you turn that thing off?) Recognizing the number from my spokeswoman days, I let it go to voice mail, not wanting anything to disturb my soft, quiet morning holding the most beautiful baby girl I’ve ever seen. Sure enough, it was another reporter – someone I’ve known for years and years – who was writing a story about the Sun-Times. She started off her voice mail very cheerful and asked if I’d had the baby – obviously, one of the few people on the planet who is not on Facebook – and then continued on that she wanted to ask me questions about the Sun-Times. Brother. Didn’t return that call – good lord, it was odd how Sun-Times kept creeping back into my birth experience! It’s funny, but it was annoying, too.

I came home with baby C on Saturday. My poor toddler has another ear infection and so our weekend was chaotic and exhausting, so the break in the March madness was short-lived. He was super curious about her, though, peeking at her and wanting to touch her and saying “baby” over and over. It made my heart melt.

I’m happy to be home and recovering. As I write this, she is snoozing, swaddled in her little orange and white monkey blanket, occasionally emitting the cutest little baby squeaks. I know I still have a lot of stuff to do – I have to finish our taxes, finish the teenager’s college financial aid papers, and lord knows, I *still* have to work on finding a job. But today is the first day of spring, the sun is shining and I’m contemplating getting back into walking next week and attempting a post-partum run in a few weeks. I’m in a really great place and feeling hopeful that things are coming together.

And if you actually read this whole thing, wow, I’m impressed. Thanks. XOXOXO.

Parenting a teen -- no one can say it's boring!

2011-03-16T09:50:00.000-05:00

This morning my BlackBerry kept freezing up. Like most people, that annoys me more than it should. It froze whiling sending a new toddler photo to Facebook -- my little toddler man was dancing this morning in his red and white-striped PJs while clutching his lovey. I couldn't resist the cuteness. Anyway, the phone finally unfroze after I somehow also picket-dialed a friend in D.C. (sorry!) and I saw the emails and a text chug in. The text was a response from my teenager -- I had asked him to please bring home some receipts for his AP exams -- and he replied that he had read my previous blog post last night and said something to the effect of "nice things you said about me."

There are no shortage of mama bloggers out there -- indeed, my blog is called Run like a Mama, implying it is both about running and parenting. But what happens when they're old enough to read your blog and get annoyed?

I think if this had been my mom, she probably would have said something like, don't give me so much material to work with -- which of course would have made my teenaged self mad, right? LOL.

One of the hardest things about being a parent, I think, is being the bad guy and trying to explain to your kid why you are being the bad guy. I worry about him being out late and getting jumped. I worry about him being a party and getting in over his head, being pressured, and making bad decisions that could haunt him. Just a few days ago, another kid he went to eighth grade with was jumped, beaten and murdered not far from our house. I try to explain. But I remember when my parents tried to explain their rules and worries to me I didn't get it, I didn't want to hear it. They were out of touch and *I* knew what was going on, not them. (My dad reads this blog and I'm sure he's chuckling to himself, or at least nodding! Right dad?)

So, I guess we'll talk about it tonight. Poor kid got saddled with a writer for a mom.

Lady in waiting

2011-03-14T11:09:00.001-05:00

I can't stop thinking about Japan. When I watch tsunami footage of water crushing cars and homes like fragile little toys, it's like watching a big box-office doomsday disaster movie. It's so hard to get your head around that this is really happening. The nuclear threat is equally difficult to grasp. Back in my newspaper reporter days I covered energy as one of my beats and toured a couple of nuclear plants, which are just something to behold. I can understand the potential horror that is there if the reactors aren't cooled. I can't stop thinking about that, either. And feeling helpless. There was a clip on CNN last night of a distraught mother trying to find her child that haunted me through a fitful night's sleep. I cannot imagine not being able to find my children.

So with all of these horrible things going on across the world, I am struggling with feeling guilty that I am a giant crab these days. A few weeks ago, on the mayoral election night, I was part of the team handling press for the winning candidate. Part of my job was rounding up other politicians for on-camera interviews to feed the TV news appetites. Among them was the Illinois Secretary of State, Jesse White, who knows how to work the press. He energetically worked the room, charming well-wishers in a clip I really admired -- I was pooped watching him and just trying to keep with him. I was about three weeks away from my due date at that point, and he kept teasingly referring to me as the "lady in waiting."

While it's sweet to be referred to that way, I don't much feel like a lady right now. The baby is healthy, thank goodness, and due any day now, but physically I feel like totally pooh. I've never had so much nerve pain with a pregnancy before. Standing up is very painful. Sitting for more than 10 minutes results in pinched nerves in my front ribs and in my back. I'm sluggish and feel like there are sandbags attached to my legs. I seem to nap every day. I stopped doing my volunteer work because I was struggling too hard to just do simple tasks while my backs and ribs screamed at me. Whine whine whine.

I'm also at the stage where everyone and his dog thinks it's OK to comment on my belly size. Yesterday at the gym swimming pool a woman laughingly asked if I had one baby in there or two. Um, I've gained only 22 pounds -- really? Last week while walking down State Street some joker, who I could tell thought he was hilarious, said "whoa nelly, hard to miss you, haha!" I bet you don't have a girlfriend, do you, buddy? Wonder why. Today at the grocery store. "Boy, you are gonna explode anytime! Hope you don't have the baby here, haha!" People, shut up. Please. You're not helping.

I love the idea of being a lady in waiting. A lady to me implies grace, strength, and the ability to put others before oneself. To be in control, to an extent. I don't feel these things right now. My teenager is up to some shenanigans, including the worst grades in his life, rampant oversleeping and missing class, and recently announcing his intentions to go to parties and drink, among other little activities he has yet to mention to me and assumes I'm clueless about. Yeah, he's 18, and I recognize this could have started a whole lot earlier (and now I'm wondering if it has). Try talking to other parents about whether your teen should be allowed to go to parties and drink and it's like howling into the wind. My unofficial surveys have rendered me as out-of-touch and unrealistic -- teens are going to drink, that's what they do. The little control I have any more continues to erode, at least it feels that way. Yesterday while sitting in my living room I glanced outside and saw a neighbor girl -- well, young woman, now -- lighting her pipe while sitting in the driver's seat of her car with a few friends. I like this girl and thought oh man. Why are you getting high on a Sunday afternoon in your car? Yeah, I know, kids get high, whatever, except now I keep thinking about her and worrying. And worrying that she's driving around. She was pretty glassy-eyed when I walked up to her car and nicely told her she should probably find a more private place to do that. So a few minutes later she drove away. Ugh. Maybe that was a bad move on my part. When did I become such an old lady?

I digress. I wonder what other folks do to right themselves in the head when they don't feel like they're being mature, or responsible, or graceful, when life just seems unmanagable. People are homeless in Japan and I'm complaining about pain shooting down my leg and an unruly teenager and busting up little pot parties in front of my house. I recognize that by comparison, these are minor issues. That's life, cupcake, right? I am trying to figure out a way to be that cool, calm lady in waiting. I used to just go for a run and everything seemed better, but that's not an option now. Maybe I'll go rummage through the cupboard for a snack.

Training for a marathon on a diet of McDonald's. Um, gross.

2011-03-10T09:02:00.001-06:00

Some guy in the northern burbs here is training for a marathon by eating at McDonald's every day. He says he runs 100 miles a week, so he's obviously a real runner... but ugh. I'd hate to be running behind him during the race.

Just when I think I've got it all figured out -- my body says otherwise

2011-03-07T15:20:00.001-06:00

I'm just about due with my third baby, as I've posted here many times. I've been really proud to start the pregnancy in the best shape of my life, and to be able to stay in good shape. I've felt pretty good most of the pregnancy, including running into my third trimester until 34 weeks (about four weeks ago) and sticking with yoga at least once a week, so I can stay loose and limber.

The baby's doing great, passing all of her tests with flying colors. She is quite the little gymnast. I, however, feel like I've been on a ledge off and on for a few weeks. I have sciatica -- which on bad days feels like the equivalent of a knife of fire shooting down my leg everytime I stand up, sit down or get out of bed. I am really hopeful it will all go away once I deliver. But holy moly, it hurts like a mother. I had a bit of it during my first pregnancy and none at all during my second one. Now I grit my teeth and hiss a lot. It's like someone is trying to remind me that no matter how fit or smart I think I am, sometimes you just gotta chill out. Pretty much the only exercise I can do now is continuing pre-natal yoga and I can waddle laps in the gym pool. Fortunately, my obstretrician took pity on me this morning and sent me straight to physical therapy. I swear, physical therapists are golden. I love them. They should be sainted, like nurses and teachers.

I am conceding to my 42-year-old body and going to head over to the pool now. Good thing my teenage son, who happens to work in the gym's aquatics department, is off tonight. LOL.

Mommies and guilty pleasures

2011-03-04T10:29:00.002-06:00

It's easy to stuff women into categories. There are the mommies, with plenty of sub-categories between work-outside-the-home moms and stay-at-home moms. And there are the non-mommies. Some non-mommies love their lives just as they are, busy with careers and travel and theater or whatever they're into. Some of the non-mommies are very envious of mommies because they want kids, while others make a loud point to let us know that they choose not to have kids and have fabulous lives that include spas, ski trips, etc. Many non-mommies don't do this, at least in my life, but a few do. Some mommies are fine to forego the fun extracurricular stuff, unless they have amazing childcare and time and money are plentiful. Others of us wish we could have more breaks and fun to look forward to. The grass is always greener somewhere else, right?

So I liked this column by a friend of mine on what guilty pleasures moms give up -- it really ranges, of course, what moms have to give up. A guy friend of mine and my husband's put it well one time -- he has twin five year old girls and pondered to us "remember when you practically had bundles of money lying around the house pre-kids?" I think I miss that -- just being able to go shopping whenever, or take a little weekend somewhere to visit a girlfriend. But, all of that said, hugs from my 23-month-old son are pretty damn sweet. At the risk of being mushy, anytime I feel wistful about "what if" or "I wish..." he quickly reminds me that giving up some guilty pleasures isn't so bad.

Besides, whether you consider running a guilty pleasure or not, I don't give that up -- so maybe that's mine, those child-free couple of hours on a Saturday morning with friends on the lakefront. I love them.

Four posts for the price of one -- interesting stories on pregnancy, running, fevers and quitting smoking

2011-03-02T11:04:00.001-06:00

Yesterday's Personal Journal section of The Wall Street Journal was practically written for me, with some great pieces about pregnancy, fevers in kids (always a big topic for those of us with little ones), running and quitting smoking. On the quitting smoking thing, even though I quit years ago I still find it very interesting to learn about new methods and to hear other people's quit stories. Thought I'd share here:

Four months of unemployment -- deep, thoughtful insights right here

2011-03-01T14:17:00.000-06:00

Tada! It's been four months now since I got the boot. What have I learned? I bet you're on the edge of your seat wanting to know, haha.

I feel like I've gone through a lot of grieving-like stages in the recent months -- the feeling of shock, getting angry, getting really angry, a cookie-dough binge, rampant cake-baking, depression including boo-hooing on my awesome hub's shoulder, a renewed interest in chocolate pop-tarts and more recently a basically full-time volunteer gig in politics that I love and makes me feel like I'm contributing to society. :-) I would describe the most recent phase as "tax time". For some reason, entering our W-2s and 1099s into the tax form over the weekend made me sob like a baby on my laptop. Oh man, really? Yeah, really. I know I'm due with a baby in two weeks and am therefore a Category 4 hormonal wreck, but geez. Fortunately, my outburst was short lived. Unfortunately, I still have to finish the taxes, ugh. Maybe when I have a job again I can pay someone to do them for me.

Speaking of public service, The New York Times ran an interesting piece on what college grads are doing in a tough economy -- an increased number of them have landed public service jobs because the fatter paycheck jobs just aren't there. Wise, and kind of cool. The story didn't mention anything about what unemployed 42-year-old pregnant mamas are up to along these lines, but that's OK. We know who we are.

Actually my outlook is not too bad. I've done, and am still doing, all the stuff you're supposed to do to land a job. Spring will arrive here one of these days, and that cheers a lot of weather-sensitive people like me up. And I will someday not resemble a whale and actually fit into a suit. Life is good.

Election night -- amid the celebration, a somber story

2011-02-24T12:17:00.002-06:00

This past month I've worked for a political campaign to elect former White House chief of staff Rahm Emanuel as Chicago mayor. He won the other night, which was awesome for Chicago but also an awesome experience to have gotten to share in.

I met some amazing people affiliated with the campaign whose paths' I might not have otherwise crossed, bright people in education, community organizations, and of course, folks with political backgrounds. This old poli sci major, who never really used that degree and instead has had a long journalism and now corporate communications career, was just eating up this stuff. My main task for election night was to work with broadcast and print reporters and find them cool and interesting people to interview -- known as "surrogates" in the business.

There were a number of surrogates I hadn't even met until that night, since I just joined the campaign about a month ago. So picture a very pregnant lady in all black stretch pants and jacket -- fashion plate to the max, baby -- running around trying to chase people down in a rambunctious crowd and corral them over to the camera area. I still have sore calves two days later -- can't wait until I can start running again and get back into shape.

Anyway, there was one such "surrogate" supporting Rahm whose story I just cannot stop thinking about. Her name is Annette Holt. Her son Blair, 16, was shot and killed on a city bus trying to protect a friend from gunfire about in the spring of 2007. I was trying to find her to do some TV interviews after Rahm's speech to the crowd once we knew he'd won, and I kept wondering about her as I wandered through the crowd about her.

I remember that shooting. My son, now 18, was just about to graduate eighth grade at the time and would enter high school in the fall and would also be taking public transportation to his public high school. And of course I was, and still am, always nervous for his safety. How does a mom or dad breathe, function, go on after losing a child? I selfishly wonder this often after reading the many stories there seem to be about yet another teenager in this city murdered. I think every parent thinks oh thank god, not my child, when reading about a child being murdered.

I finally spotted Annette, quickly introduced myself and guided her back to the cameras, where she would once again talk about what happened to her beautiful son that horrible day. (She has since become a huge advocate for curbing gun violence in the city and for youth. I cannot state how much I admire this woman for her strength). She was smiling and radiant and so cheerful to participate. in the campaign and the events of election night.

A few months before Blair was shot, my teenage son lost a classmate, Lazarus, to violence as well. I knew Lazarus, a slight kid often on his bike, with long braids and a sweet pixie-like face. He and my son hung out a bit, though at one point had some kind of altercation with my son that led his mom and I to speak on the phone. It was one of those boys will be boys things, it turned out, and I remember Lazarus' mom being very sweet and making her soft-spoken get on the phone and apologize. I always thought he seemed like a good kid, so you just move on, you know?

Then one day my son called me at work to tell me Lazarus had been killed, less than a mile from our house. As far as I know no murderer has ever been found. I will never forget taking my son to the huge funeral on a dark, wintry night. My poor son wore his nicest clothes and a ski cap pulled down tightly over his head, and did not take it off once inside. He was silent the whole time. He was just a 15-year-old kid. You're not supposed to have classmates get murdered when you're a kid.

He didn't want to stay during the whole funeral, so we left midway. Again, he was silent in the car as I wrestled with what to say, anything at all I could say to soften his pain. At some point between the funeral home and our house he started to sob so hard, in a way I'd seldom heard. It broke my heart. I hope to God I never have to see my kids lose another friend this way.

I know the answers to gun violence are not simple, but I am hopeful that a guy like Rahm, himself a dad of three, has pledged to make this a priority among many, many priorities in this city. And God bless Annette for being so amazing.

DVD review: Jane Fonda's new workouts

2011-02-20T14:27:00.000-06:00

My review of Jane Fonda's new workout DVDs. I hope I am as fit at 72 as she is.

Getting closer to March Madness; or oh, I am such an impatient girl

2011-02-18T10:44:00.000-06:00

My due date is four weeks from today, March 18. Which for March Madness fans is the second full day of the NCAA basketball tournament. The tournament is pretty much the only time I watch college basketball -- I even like to fill out those sheets and jump into a pool. I figure someone has to win it, right? My year is coming. So is my own March Madness, a.k.a. life as a mommy to a toddler *and* a baby. It's one thing to chase one kid around, like with my now 18-year-old, or with my little toddler man. This will take some getting used to. I need a *nutty* emoticon here. And a mid-life crisis emoticon as well.

(And yes, if I actually go into labor during the tournament, we will have it on TV. We watched a Final Four game prior to little toddler man's arrival nearly two years ago, and I watched a Clinton-Perot-Bush debate in 1992 several hours before my teenage son joined this world. I hope something decent is on TV when I labor with this little girl! I just reviewed a new pregnancy book that advised bringing a magazine or book for labor). Trust me, until that epidural comes there is no friggin way I can hold and concentrate on a book once the contractions start getting wicked).

I am guilty of still spending way too much emotional energy worrying about the job thing. At this point I'm making contacts and staying in touch with potential job folks through email, but I don't exactly want to land any interviews right now since my belly would frighten anyone off.

True story: I went to a Dunkin Donuts in the Loop yesterday, classic pregnant woman activity, right? Before I could get my order out, the young guy at the counter with a giant tattoo on his neck said "wow, you are fat!" He was laughing and kind of embarrassed -- I really think he meant to say "pregnant". I don't know, I'm usually kind of witchy about these things but I had to laugh. And then order my doughnut AND bagel, oink, oink, and then give him a gentle scolding. I mean, I look ridiculous, all belly and unable to remotely button a coat anywhere near my waistline. It is funny, but only if I am in the mood to think it's funny, of course!

So yeah, not wanting to get an interview right now. However, I am trying not to panic about lost job-hunting time. Which of course I am. I know I'm just supposed to chill now and focus on the baby. But I worry about my husband taking on more and more work and him getting burned out and I can't help it, I just feel plain guilty not bringing home a paycheck. Is this what women's lib gave to us Gen Xers and younger women -- more guilt? OK, I'm kidding about that. Well, mostly.

So the plan is to keep up the political campaign volunteer work I'm doing until I can't get my butt onto a train platform anymore, and hope that the experience and contacts will increase my odds of finding a job later this spring. Send some job vibes to me. I quit running last week, just too damn big to do it until after this baby comes, and I need to hang on to my sanity, LOL. Or, as my teenager would say, LMAO.

"Older" brides

2011-02-16T09:57:00.000-06:00

If you are getting married and you're an "older" bride -- over 40 -- then there are some things to think about for your wedding and reception. Key among those things would be to not annoy the heck out of your bridal party or guests -- skip the dyed matching shoes, or the mandatory all-day spa day with the bride, considering a lot of your friends may have kids and won't have the luxury of all the time in the world to spend with you getting hair and nails done. (Not that we're not jealous of your free time, we are!)

Here is my story on what a couple of Chicago brides did (including the gorgeous bride pictured above), and a short list of guidelines from some wedding planners.

Running in the cold and your lungs

2011-02-14T11:13:00.000-06:00

I've run through a couple of winters since I started running regularly four years ago, and it seems like you get used to running in the cold, lung-wise. Here's a story with some interesting info on the science behind that. I've so missed winter running this year (though the blizzard of two weeks ago drove everyone indoors in Chicago). I didn't want to risk falling while pregnant. Bottom line: with some pre-caution, running in the cold is not bad for you. Unless you underdress or fall down, right?

Last week I ran my final run of this pregnancy. I'm happy I was able to run up to 34 weeks this time around, and 32 weeks during my last pregnancy. I can't wait to get back out there again, post-baby, this spring. I miss my running buddies!

Running (and other exercise) helps you take care of your bones?

2011-02-10T10:26:00.001-06:00

Another way exercise is good for you: it's good for long-term bone density, according to this New York Times piece sent to me by a running buddy of mine. I'd like to think that if the science here bears true that maybe folks who exercise will be less likely to break bones and have related issues when we are senior citizens. Besides, as a mom who will be in her early 60s when her youngest kid graduates from high school (she is due next month!), I need to stay strong to keep up!

See Jane grow old...

2011-02-08T13:30:00.000-06:00

This morning I got up at 5:05 a.m., put some running shoes on my feet and headed to the basement with one of Jane Fonda's two new workout DVDs in hand.

I'm reviewing both DVDs for the Chicago Sun-Times and will post the story when it's published.

As much as this morning was about doing freelance work, it was also very personal.

Jane is 72. In the workout I did this morning with her, she looks just amazing. It was especially striking to me, as my own mother, 10 years Jane's junior, was laying in a hospital bed after a surgery and a heart attack yesterday.

Jane has slowed down in her older years -- not in a fitness sense, by any means. Instead of the bouncy Jane Fonda aerobics tapes of 20 years ago (which just kicked my 20-something ass at the time), this Jane is all about getting her audience's heart rates up, a bit, but taking things slow, too. She talks about how exercise has been shown in studies to reduce the chances of developing Alzheimers as well as just improving brain function overall. She's very encouraging, telling us that it's never too late to be strong or fit. She even acknowledges that she's had a knee and a hip replaced, and mentions how to stretch accordingly without aggravating those parts of the body.

I am so happy to report that by midday, I'd learned that my mom had had an OK night, her vitals steady and the breathing tube since removed. But when I following Jane before the crack of dawn this morning, I couldn't help but wish that Jane could talk to my mom in that gentle, kind, supportive way she does on the DVD. My mother has been through hell, with three strokes including one last week, heart disease and multiple surgeries in the last few months.

I don't know what my mom's recovery will be like. But I look at Jane and feel some hope -- I'd love to see my mother regain some of her strength and be able to putter around, hit the bookstore, run over to Target, be able to grab her dogs by the collar and manage to get them in their kennels or outside or wherever they're supposed to be. I'd love to see some of the worry and fatigue leave my father's face. I'd love to see them laugh together. I want my amazing sister, who lives in the same town as my parents and has been by their sides and calls me constantly with updates, to be able to relax a bit and have some of the burden taken off her shoulders.

I'm so incredibly relieved to hear that my mom was awake and talking a bit this morning. I don't know what the future holds for her. But I want so desperately to believe Jane, and that everything is going to be OK.

Groundhog's Day 2011 -- a Chicago blizzard and six more weeks of... pregnancy!

2011-02-04T12:21:00.000-06:00

Howdy. This has been a strange and challenging week. I can happily report, however, that I haven't made a cake all week :wantcakesomuch: :yellowcakewithlemonfrostingplease: because I've been super busy! Super busy = happy in my book.

I kicked off the week at Target Monday morning. Normally I love Target but going there when it's empty because most people are at work is kind of a bummer. Then my phone rang -- the Rahm Emanuel campaign for Chicago mayor agreed to let me do some work for them! It's a volunteer gig, but heck, I've always been intrigued by politics. Election nights in our house are like national holidays, with yummy food and tons to talk about. I've long been a Rahm fan anyway, and the previous week's news that he'd been booted off the ballot by the Illinois Appellate Court jolted me -- as a homeowner and parent of a Chicago Public Schools kids (and two little ones who will go to school some day), I want my next mayor to have giant you-know-whats and keep this city from going downhill. So the news gave me a kick in the butt to call the campaign and offer my time to the press folks. Fortunately, Rahm was restored to the ballot by the Illinois Supreme Court just days later.

I started on Tuesday, the first of February. The campaign folks I met are awesome, smart and friendly. It was also the day one of the biggest blizzards in Chicago was expected to start, so naturally that was a big part of the office chatter. I worked on a few things. It dawned on me that it is strange to not be in charge of stuff, like I was at my old job before I was laid off. I'm really in the background here, which is an adjustment but very OK. It feels nice to be needed. I'm not sure anyone expected a quite pregnant woman to show up -- I've gotten lots of friendly questions on my ginormous belly. Guess I'm hard to miss. I've even been offered seats on the train all week, even though I'm bundled up in a gigantic red parka that usually just makes me look fat.

The blizzard stormed in that afternoon. A short while later, a major street near my house, Lawrence Avenue, just stopped moving, it was so full of cars inching along in the blurry, sideways snow. Later we'd learn that Lake Shore Drive, the city's main lakefront arterial, would be jammed with hundreds of stranded cars taht would ultmately have to be abandoned and later dug out by the city. (Thank god I didn't drive downtown that day!) That night my husband and I sat in our living room, listening to Panda Bear (awesome band, very Brian Wilson-ish) and just watched the mayhem outside. Trees swayed, thunder and lightning gave us a show, cars struggled to get up the street in 60-mph winds -- we'd never seen anything like it since buying our house more than eight years ago.

Wednesday there was no going anywhere, even if I'd wanted to. I did make it to my deserted gym for a nice 3-mile run/walk that took the cabin fever edge off. I swear, the hike in the unshoveled, unplowed streets to and from the gym was more tiring. And it's only two blocks from my house. Big thanks to my teenager (below) for shoveling a TON of snow.

Come Thursday morning, there was no way I was going to let a little storm keep me from getting back to my new life. I managed to navigate the CRV onto main streets that were in decent shape, feeling all smug with my 4WD and my can-do attitude. Screw you, blizzard.

Had another good day at the campaign, and after work I headed north to pick up the toddler from daycare and get home. Well, I made a stupid decision to try and go up my alley, which was deep in snow. I'm such a moron sometimes. I'm going to blame my preggo brain, which is really bad (not to mention the freelance check I completely LOST last week in a separate example of what a bonehead I am, gah!) So I'm stuck in the snow, no shovel, hugely pregnant and a hungry toddler in the backseat. Awesome. Fortunately I was close to home, and the hub and two lovely, lovely neighbors we don't know got us unstuck after an hour. The little toddler man was a much bigger trouper about it all than his mommy, who was mortified and so upset that I'd done something so bone-headed.

I woke up today after a really great night's sleep, rare in the third trimester, feeling pretty good about the day. The toddler was delightful, belting out his special cutie-pie version of his ABCs in the car on the way to daycare. I even remembered to bring more baby wipes to daycare. Then I managed to fall -- but it was inside the daycare on slick floors. I was all mad at myself about that (baby's ok, just fell on my leg and hip, ow) until I found out my mom is back in the hospital and may have had even more strokes. My poor mother! I can't stop thinking of her and am anxiously awaiting more news from my family. She's just been through hell. I can't believe how hard this has been on her, and my dad, too. Thinking of them both so much right now.

In very nice news today, my toddler man is now 22 months old and I realized my due date for his baby sister is six weeks from today. OMG. Don't even ask me how much prep I've done for this little baby. :whistle: :momoftheyear:

No, letting me go run is GOOD for the marriage, really...

2011-02-02T11:08:00.000-06:00

Loved this WSJ story on how endurance athletes' workout schedules can test the most patient of spouses. Not that I'm putting myself in that category. But my husband has been awfully patient during my past marathon training periods. This story is a nice reminder to say thanks, hubby!

Now, finish up your freelance work quickly so I can go run at the gym this morning before it closes early (and I lose my mind to cabin fever!)

A seat at the table -- women on corporate boards

2011-01-28T10:21:00.000-06:00

This story -- almost ecstaticly --points out that the percentage of women on the boards of directors for the biggest companies in Chicago has risen to its highest level ever. That "level" is 15.3 percent, folks.

This is according to a group called the Chicago Network, a professional women's organization. I wish I could share the actual study with you, but unfortunately the group doesn't seem to have it up on its Web site -- or at least, in a spot I could find it.

The study apparently goes on to say, according to the news story, that the number of women on Chicago corporate boards increased to 85 -- which was the highest one-year increase.

This is pathetic, folks, not good news. It's 2011 and women are still horrendously underrepresented. I've written this story before, back in my reporting days, and the reasons for paltry representation probably haven't changed much. Women with kids face daunting challenges trying to juggle everything. Dads face unfair pressure because they're *supposed* to work more -- how many of us know male colleagues who were able to leave work early to see their kid's mid-afternoon baseball game, without a lot of tsking-tsking or tongue-wagging?

I suppose I'm sensitive right now because I'm still trying to find a job after being laid off three months ago tomorrow. I waddle into interviews now with a big ol' pregnant belly. And I know I'm judged. I want to tell people, hey, I have a brain and I'd like to use it! When I was pregnant with my first son, who is now 18, the editor at the paper I worked at went around telling people behind my back that he was pretty sure I wouldn't be back after I gave birth. That still stings to this day. Lots of helpful folks keep telling me that I should enjoy my time off with my kids and maybe even be a stay-at-home mom. I know they're well-intentioned, but UGH. I really, really, really want to work at something meaningful and be challenged and busy and a little crazed everyday and enjoy my family time, too. Oh, and run a marathon once a year and shorter races throughout. It's how I function best, and it makes me happy. Really happy.

So what does this all have to do with women on corporate boards? Well, I think if women have families and if sick kids, pregnancy, whatever starts to overlap into our professional lives we are judged. Guys have different pressures -- they're just expected to work, work, work and that's that. My husband was judged unfairly when he took a full three months of paternity leave with our toddler son -- people were actually incredulous. One guy even told him that he'd change his mind once our son arrived and he'd want to go back to the office in a couple of weeks. I'm proud that my husband took the time off. He's still happy he did.

I'm not sure what the answer is for women. I just know that extolling "15 percent" is pretty damn sad.

Oh magic closet fairy...

2011-01-27T10:17:00.000-06:00

I wish a magic fairy would come visit my closet and tell me the truth. Well, nicely anyway. What should I purge, what should I wear more often, what do I really need to buy? A newspaper editor friend of mine did just that and wrote a story about her experience -- I got to sit on her bed and watch as these three very fun and gorgeous women took apart her closet and helped her to reorganize it and rethink her wardrobe. (And drool over her fabulous dress collection -- I am so going to have to hit her closet after I give birth!)

Couple of tips I learned: Invest in a couple of good black slips, including a Spanx one, to wear under sheerer dresses or dresses that just hang in your closet because you don't quite like how they fit you (maybe you feel you look bulg-y in them). Also, good accessories like belts, scarves and statement necklaces can really spruce up your large collection of black tops. I know I have like, a million black tops.

Here is Meg's first-person piece on what three women from a North Shore boutique did to her closet, and my companion story on Nick and Ellis, the closet miracle workers. Ah, the possibilities...

Feeling bearish, but cheered up by a little stinkerbutt...

2011-01-23T20:06:00.000-06:00

Ugh. Bummer news on the job front this week, and today the Chicago Bears just choked at home in the NFC Championship against the Packers. Observation: I had no idea so many of my Facebook friends were Packer fans. And a lot of 'em don't even live in Wisconsin. Hmm. And it's still January. UGH.

After the game I brought the toddler man upstairs from our basement family/TV room and made him a chicken nugget quesadilla (hey, it gets him to eat tomatoes!) He munched happily for a bit and then began to fling chunks of his dinner across the kitchen with great delight. However, since Mommy was grumpy she did not appreciate this. I grabbed everything and started cleaning up and gave a few stern "no"s. Stinkerbutt. Then, out of the blue the little toddler man starts counting to seven. Yes, he counted! I made him do it again to make sure I wasn't hearing things. So now I'm less grumpy. :-)

Marathon madness -- running an indoor marathon

2011-01-21T11:46:00.000-06:00

I've run a few marathons. I think besides the sheer physical demands, the hardest part (for me) has been the mental part -- being able to stick with it mentally when your body is just wearing out, your arms are heavy, your legs are like columns of cement, and any sip of Gatorade or bite of whatever chew/fuel you're into just makes your stomach lurch.

But at least there's scenery, right? Though my last marathons were in less scenic places like Rockford, there was at least *something* to look at. Now comes a new trend of indoor marathons, as described in this Wall Street Journal story. This woman in the top of the story ran around a track of (I think?) a third-mile long 150 times. The new challenge is tackling the boredom.

As bizarre as it sounds, there is a small part of my crazy brain that thinks, hmmmm. If I could do one of *those*, maybe my next marathon wouldn't seem so hard, mentally?

Running friends, would you do one of these?

Get off of your pregnant butt! Pregnancy workout DVDs reviewed here

2011-01-19T13:32:00.000-06:00

Being pregnant is not an excuse to sit on your ass. I reviewed four DVDs that most pregnant chicks can do just fine -- just check with your doctor first!

Feeling weightless

2011-01-17T13:47:00.000-06:00

I had the best dream the other day. Sorry if you hate it when people talk about their dreams -- sometimes I zone off, too. But this one was cool. I ran a half marathon (13.1 miles) with my husband, which is hilarious because he hates running and still grumbles about the time I signed him up for a 10K race (6.2 miles). It was in New Orleans and there was beer and jumbalaya at the end, but still. In my dream, we ran this race fast and it felt so easy, I was going to continue on and run the full 26.2 miles for a marathon. In reality, I try to really race half marathons and I'm usually just dead at the end of them.

Not the first time I've had running or race dreams, but this one I couldn't shake because of how happy I was just thinking about. Over dinner with girlfriends the next day I told them about the dream and it dawned on me why I couldn't forget about this seemingly ho-hum dream. It's because things felt easy. I was free of earthly burdens, you know? And it made me think of being weightless -- a metaphor for feeling great and light and free and happy.

No one can be totally weightless -- we all have stuff to worry about and be responsible for, like spouses, kids, mortgages or paying rent, student loans, whatever. But I realized that up until I figured out last summer that my job was probably going to get whacked, I'd been fortunate enough to have been kind of floating along weightlessly. I ran a ton of races last year and saw the little toddler man turn 1; life with the hub and the teenager was pretty good, and I got pregnant with baby girl. Stuff was good.

I haven't felt weightless for awhile, especially with my layoff nearly 3 months ago, but the dream doesn't make me feel sad about that. Instead, it was a really nice reminder that those weightless times will come and go, but they do come back. So I continue to grow physically larger, I've pinched some kind of nerve in my back, at least one member of my family has been sick as a dog since the new year began, and damned if I'm not sitting in a job search tundra as frigid as January in Chicago. But January will go away and someday I will (hopefully) leave Midwest winters for good, I won't be pregnant forever and someday someone is going to say, my god, we have to hire that woman, she's awesome! And, I'll run some races in 2011 and remind myself to think "weightless" and see how that goes, too.

Already have my eye on a little race in April. :-)

Don't have time to work out? Sure you do... boot camp series kicks off here

2011-01-15T13:08:00.001-06:00

In this story, I begin to follow a suburban Chicago mom who works full-time and has committed to a boot camp class and overall fitness goals in the new year. If you've never had the chance to take a boot camp, do it! They're tough, but oh boy, what a great way to get results quickly and feel like a bad mama. (And if you sign up for a really early class, like 5:30 a.m.? Super bragging rights at work for the day!) If the mama in this story can do it, so can you!

ETA: Added story here since link will expire.

Woman takes fitness resolution to next level

Comments

February 17, 2011

By TAMMY CHASE Contributor

Last month, Pioneer Press Newspapers began following Jessica Kruswicki of Vernon Hills as she kicked off the new year with resolutions to join a women's boot camp class and exercise regularly. Kruswicki, 36, is juggling workouts with a full-time job and quality time with her 1-year-old son. Her goals a month ago were to shed about 10 pounds from her 5-foot-6-inch 160-pound frame and regain the muscle tone she's lost since having a baby.
Here is how it's going, a month later.
Q. How often are you attending boot camp classes and doing other exercise during the week?
I go to boot camp twice a week, and I really love the classes and the variety of exercises that we do. I always leave there feeling like I had a good workout.
However, since the days/times of the classes are hard for me to go to more than two times per week - due to my husband's work schedule, my work schedule and child care coverage - I am working out with a trainer through the Vernon Hills Park District once a week and using my treadmill at home one to two times a week.
Q. How do you handle temptation to blow off working out?
While I have not blown off class yet -- but considered it -- I have blown off working out on my own. It is so easy to have your couch on the right and the door to the treadmill on your left and after a long day, which one would you rather choose? I was just making excuses -- telling myself it was too late to get a workout in or putting my work first before my workout.
This past week I have not made excuses, gotten my workouts in and just kept telling myself that if you want it bad enough you have to put the time in. Even though it seems much harder this time around, I continue to tell myself that I did it before and know what it takes, so I can do this again.
Q. Has anything surprised you to this point?
The only thing that has surprised me thus far is the underestimating I did on my weight. This whole time I thought I was around 160 to 163 - maybe last summer I was but not after the holidays! - but I got on the scale and was 166! That's when I decided to join WeightWatchers. Joining a friend at WeightWatchers meetings will help keep me committed to it. I am just now starting to see a little difference in the way my clothes fit but nothing significant yet. I have noticed my arms and legs staring to lean out a little bit, too.

Is it open season on pregnant ladies or what?

2011-01-14T15:35:00.000-06:00

First, you have a pregnant woman, who was not drinking alcohol, tossed out of a bar anyway. Now, a professor is asking his students how to grade a female student who recently gave birth. Awesome.

OK, cupcake, time to work on those abs

2011-01-14T12:41:00.000-06:00

I reviewed a new ab workout DVD here. Man, this thing is tough but boy, it's good.

Is it bad that I'm giddy that I'm so pregnant that I can't really do too much of these exercises for a few more months, heehee? (I am going to run on the treadmill today, though, I swear!) You, however, have no excuse. Get cracking!

Pregnant woman goes into a bar...

2011-01-12T20:26:00.000-06:00

And she wasn't even drinking. Good grief.

So speaking of being pregnant, I was curious the other day if anyone had done a book on hunting for a job while pregnant. Couldn't find much -- maybe it's not worth a book. But since that's my world these days, I'm interested. There is a lot of interesting stuff out there in the blogosphere -- it seems the consensus advice is to not mention it too early on but to be upfront about it with the hiring manager if you're moving along in the interview process. Of course, after a series of interviews with one really interesting company recently, I figured I should say something, I did, and now I haven't heard a word in nearly a month. Sigh.

Up to this point (I'm 30 weeks, so into my third trimester) I've trust my gut and mentioned it if it came up (Like, one interview pleasantly asked 'oh, how many kids do you have?') or if I felt that I would be talking to this person again in the next few months. Other times, I've just not said anything -- especially in the event of a first interview. I've been lucky enough not to gain a ton (third kid and all), so I can kind of hide it under winter clothing for a long time. (I know no one can legally discriminate against a job candidate for pregnancy, but geez, how would you ever be able to prove it?)

But now I wonder what is "right". I'm seven months along. I'm all belly and it's harder and harder to miss. My interview "outfit" now consists of some fitted black maternity dress pants, long Ann Taylor sweaters (non-maternity, but a size up or two from what I'd usually wear) and a non-maternity black suit coat that I have no prayer or plan to button. I also like to accessorize with scarves (it's January in Chicago, after all), so the belly is sort of hidden. I think I just look kind of plump now. Or like I just hit a buffet, a really big one. Or I swallowed a pot-bellied pig.

The other day I was in a "first" interview situation -- though I've had conversation with this company before and would LOVE to work for them -- and I worried whether I should say something? But then I get worried that I'll be shooting myself in the foot by bringing it up. I asked the interviewer about her hiring timetable, and it sounds awfully close to when I give birth. Oh man. So I'm hoping the right thing to do would be to see if she calls me back and then disclose it. Same with some other positions at different companies for which I've interviewed recently.

But that raises another question, for which I haven't yet found a good answer. No one wants to hire someone who's gonna start and then disappear for three months, right? I don't blame them. So as a mama to a newborn coming in March, what do I agree to, should an offer be near? Do I offer to take a short leave, a sort-of leave (like work 1-2 days a week?) or what? Of course, this is assuming that I'll even get an offer in the next couple of months.That's looking more and more like a giant "IF" now. I think I need some chocolate cake, be right back.

Yum, better. Hunting for a job while pregnant kind of sucks sometimes, but other times I have to just chuckle. Yesterday I waddled into a networking-type breakfast and someone said "oh, wow, look what happened to you." It's like um, yeah. Then there's the snow and ice and trying to "dress up" while wearing sensible-enough shoes that won't kill me on ice and snow. And the fun of squeezing into a very finite, appropriate interview wardrobe.

But there are also things that make me laugh about the whole thing. Like this morning, at the breakfast, one of my first thoughts was "oh crap, they only have fruit and pastries!" Usually this group puts on a full breakfast with eggs and the works. Damn. Like this should be what I'm thinking about.

Or there's sitting in an interview while baby girl kicks the poo outta me and I try to keep a straight face. And not gasp. Or there was the time that I was brought into someone's office and it smelled like butt. I was like, you're going to leave me here??? Ugh. Then there's this week, with my stupid back just aching and I've been really trying not to grimace at people. "Hi, nice to meet you, no, I'm not making a horrible face at you, it's just my aching back! Oh this baby!" Haha. Another landmine: "no, I didn't just toot." *innocent whistle* OK, that hasn't happened this time around -- though it did during my last pregnancy at work, and I was MORTIFIED.

On the plus side -- perks include wearing yoga pants all the time and weighing less because I never eat out anymore. So there, there's my silver lining. That, and I can have a drink in a bar in about two months without someone looking at me funny. Yay! Now, someone tell me how that pregnant lady had the stamina to be up and out in a bar at midnight... I want some of that!

Are you as smart as your grandfather?

2011-01-11T16:15:00.002-06:00

I had a lot of fun reviewing and doing a story on How To Build a Fire and Other Handy Things Your Grandfather Knew.

First thing I did after getting this book was look through the table of contents and see what I knew how to do. I'm proud to say I have chopped my own wood (man, that is unbelievably hard work -- but I felt soooo badass doing it) and I have changed my own car's oil, with help. (But I don't want to do it again, so dirty!) Some of the other stuff, like hanging drywall? Eh, I think that belongs to someone who won't screw it up.

My grandfathers were awesome, awesome men. I miss them both.

Does exercise make you drink more alcohol? (yeah, it sounds weird to me, too!)

2011-01-05T10:23:00.000-06:00

This piece in the NY Times is fascinating about studies linking alcohol consumption to exercise. I'm still trying to wrap my head around little rats getting drunk after running on their little hamster wheels.

Nope, Snooki did not invent the beehive...

2011-01-04T14:00:00.000-06:00

I wish I had a photo I could link to -- there is this high school portrait of my mom in the 1960s. She's got perfectly coiffed beehive do, creamy, flawless skin and perfectly lined eyes. I was always just fascinated with that picture as a kid.

Here's the story of the actual beehive creator. I never knew the beehive was a local creation!

Best albums of 2010 according to the best music critic I know... and married

2010-12-31T12:33:00.002-06:00

Check out my hub's top 10 albums of the year here.

Last run report of 2011: it sucked but I'm still happy! 931 miles in 2010

2010-12-31T12:28:00.001-06:00

I ran 931 miles this year as of this morning. My snarky husband asked if I could cram another 70 in today so I could get to 1,000. Haha, if I wasn't knocked up, buddy, you bet I would have made it to 1,000 this year.

Yep, I'm done running for 2010. It was my highest mileage year, woohoo! The downside of the run this morning was that it was sucky. I'm 6 1/2 months pregnant, overall feeling good, but man, this run was just tough. I cut it short to three miles and even that was hard. So this week to kick off the new year I'll try some run/walk combos and see how that goes. No, I'm not bragging and I'm not insane, though to non-runners I know I sound nuts. My little toddler man has his "lovey" for security and drooling; I have running, It's my version of Xanax or whatever "head" drug people take to stay even. It's gotten me through a very, very interesting year of family stuff, marathons, half marathons and job loss.

I must still be a bit endorphin-y because I'm feeling so positive today about 2011. I will find a job this year, yay, and will get to give birth to my daughter in March, my first girl after two boys. I will run unencumbered by a large belly some day, hang out with my very cool friends, hopefully travel a bit -- I love new year and new starts. And I'm thinking it will be a great year for my mom as she continue her recovery from a stroke. Go Mom, and Happy New Year's everyone!

My last Denise Austin review

2010-12-30T17:02:00.000-06:00

I've decided I can't bear to review her workout DVDs anymore. Here's my most recent one. I'm trying a bunch of pregnancy workout DVDs out right now and will post a review soon! Gotta work off these cookies and banana bread somehow.

2011 goals and stuff

2010-12-29T10:08:00.002-06:00

Oh man, it's that time of year we're supposed to set goals for 2011. Crap. And I've already eaten a very fattening piece of chocolate chip banana bread this morning. That I baked yesterday with wayyy to many chocolate chips. Oink. What was I thinking.

So let's see. Goals. Well, first, today is December 29, and today is the first day I am officially third trimester with this little baby girl. :-) So, goal number one has to be to continue to be good to my body, chocolate chip overload aside, and have a healthy little babe in March.

It is also the two-month mark from the day I got officially laid off. So, a very important goal is to keep plugging away at my job hunt and keep the faith. I know I have good skills, I work hard and love challenges, so someone will hopefully see that soon, right? Right? I'd cross my fingers and toes if I thought it would help. I recently got rejected for a job for which I was a finalist. It sucked, but seeing that the person I interviewed with multiple times didn't tell me I didn't get the job, but let the HR department send me a form email instead, it's like, really, would I want to work for someone like that? Seems kind of gutless to me, but maybe I'm naive and old-fashioned. I've hired a few times in my life, and when it came to final candidates, I always called them personally, even the ones who didn't make the final cut. It's an awkward call to make, but the decent thing to do.

Today is also my parents' wedding anniversary. 43 years, wow. I love you, Mom and Dad. I vow to keep in touch better. Though you guys could call me more, too. *wink*

More goals: My husband and I will juggle two little kids this year -- it's one thing to just have one, but wow, two. In diapers. *crazed* I am really going to work on being patient and taking things day by day and trying not to get too flustered if the house is too messy or other chaos. Being an older parent, I find that I am less patient with messes, being late for stuff, you know, less than nearly perfect. I have to let go of that, and it's not easy. At least when I was a mom in my 20s there was way more stuff I did.not.give.a.crap.about, like how long the dishes sat in the sink. Now? Shudder. Let it go, right? Right? As for my teenage son, who will graduate from high school this year, I am going to also work on my patience -- God help me -- and enjoy these remaining months with him. Because once he leaves for his dad's this summer and then off to college in the fall, it's never going to be the same. Which is weird and sad (but good, I know) to think about.

OK, let's get to my favorite kind of goal -- running stuff. I first am promising myself that I will have to be flexible -- sometimes the 5 a.m. run isn't gonna happen if one or more kiddie has been up and down all night. I also won't do something stupid like sign up for a half marathon four months post-partum and be all pissed at myself when I run a personal worst time. Which may have happened after the little toddler man was born. My goal is to get a half marathon in next fall, when I'm about 6-7 months post-partum, and just do what I can do. 2012 can be my year for PRs (personal records), hopefully. Oh, and keep doing yoga each week. It's amazing how much younger my back feels when I stick with yoga. :-) It's not as enjoyable as running, but it makes my running better and that makes me happy.

Finally, and this shouldn't be last, I want to be more knowledgable about the world. I really isolate myself. I'm reading this book, fiction, but it's based on the history of Afghanistan in the last 20 years and chronicles the lives of two women. I got so agitated last night reading what these women endured, and what their children witnessed. I'm ashamed that I am tempted to just close my eyes so I don't have to be upset by what's going on elsewhere in the world. And thinking, oh my God, how on earth could I make a difference? I don't have an answer yet, but I do want to think of some way I can do something useful and selfless for the world besides just donating $20 here and there to charity. I'm open to ideas.

I call it lazy butt syndrome

2010-12-23T15:51:00.000-06:00

Before I begin: I am not a doctor. This is just one runner's perspective and not a medical opinion. (Don't want any doctors mad at me or lawyers chasing me!)

I never had knee pain until I picked up running a few years ago, when I was 39, and then only after I had started training for marathons. See, when you start running you get all sorts of advice that newbies are really half-assed about following, like cross-training. OK, maybe just newbies like me. Cross-training means incorporating non-running activities into your weekly workouts to build muscles that don't get worked but that you really, really need when running. Think of activities like yoga, strength-training, spinning, stuff like that.

I got diagnosed with popliteal tendonitis (behind the knee) three weeks before my first marathon in 2007 and went to physical therapy, where I had to do a bunch of exercises to strengthen my core -- hips and legs. Guess what? I started training for another marathon in 2008 and I was back in PT with a different knee pain. I think there were two rounds in all of PT in 2008. I just couldn't get it through my head: I NEED TO CROSS-TRAIN CONSISTENTLY, EVEN OFF-SEASON. (After I ran the St. Louis marathon in spring of 2008 I got an assessment from a personal trainer on my fitness because I was so frustrated with back pain and knee pain. She said I was so out of whack. My top half was extremely weak and bottom half mostly strong. That is not good.)

A big culprit for my knee issues, anyway, (and lots of runners, I understand) were weak gluteus medius muscles -- not the big gluteus maximus muscles most people think of. They are located under and toward the top of the gluteus maximus (I told you I'm not a doctor, so don't expect a lot of scientific explanation here). Basically, as I understand it, when you have weak muscles in your hips and/or legs your body will rely more heavily on the stronger muscles, which can get overused and lead to injuries. OK, that's as far as my biology lesson goes. I always found it a little amusing that I had a lazy butt.

So The New York Times did a story on gluteus medius tendonosis that's really good and interesting, and a warning for what can happen if you let your core get weak, yikes! The moral of the story is strengthen your core! Keep those muscles strong. I began doing Jillian Michaels' Shred DVD in 2009 and weekly Ashtanga and vinyasa yoga classes this year (now pre-natal yoga and strength workouts appropriate for pregnant chicks) and haven't heard a peep outta my knees in ages. You can try other things besides these -- just make sure you get that cross-training and core work into your week somehow.

Happy running! :-)

New Yoga DVD to help out with stress

2010-12-22T14:40:00.000-06:00

I like this new “Element: Yoga for Stress Relief & Flexibility” DVD -- good for beginners, and good for folks who need to decompress after a long day of work or after the rambunctious kiddies are in bed.

2010 Random snark and observations

2010-12-21T14:42:00.000-06:00

Everyone has some kind of top 10 list at the end of the year, right? My husband will slave over his top albums of the year. He's very meticulous and finds really cool stuff. It's always a crap shoot if I've actually heard of more than a few titles -- I leave it to him to scroll music blogs and other sources of new music info. He just loves it and is really good at it. And he's cute, asking me every year what are my top albums of the year. Like I could name 10 albums from this year.

On the treadmill today, I was flanked on either side by a couple of slightly nutty women -- to my left was the loud, offkey singer in headphones just belting out something painful to listen to. I had to crank up my Daft Punk to drown her out. To my right was the newly pregnant woman who within minutes of striking up a conversation with me had given me a quite detailed medical history of her pregnancies, including liver enzyme history, bedrest stories and more. Um, we just met, need to finish my run now, good luck to you! So, what's a girl to do but craft a top 10 Random snark list in her head for 2010? Here goes:

1. What is up with the Tax Masters commercials that are on during daytime TV? It's like something you'd see on Saturday Night Live. And I keep wondering just how big is the rest of that guy in the commercial -- you only see him shoulders up, stiff as a board, in the commercial.

2. Tom Ricketts, Executive Chairman of the Chicago Cubs, wanted state bonds to pay for millions of dollars worth of upgrades at Wrigley Field. Um, nice try, dude. We'[re in a recession, the state budget looks like something my Kenmore vaccuum sucked up and spit out and besides, Gov. Pat Quinn's a die-hard Sox fan.

3. Kelly Osbourne -- Enough about your weight loss. Do something with your overprocessed hair. And, please go enjoy being thin quietly somewhere and stop talking to everyone on the planet how you lost the weight. Most of us do.not.care.

4. Speaking of celebs, someone remind me how Kim Kardashian got so famous? And for someone with a really pretty face, access to money and really good fashion and a nice figure, why does she dress so trashy? And she needs to stop worrying about not being married at 30. Whatever.

5. OK, another celeb snark. I'm on a roll, baby. Kendra, oh Kendra, how many times will you whine to the press about how it is OK for mothers to be slutty, er, I mean, sexy? Your baby is adorable. Focus on him and less on your cleavage. And yes, moms can be sexy. But we're usually too tired and busy to moan on and on about it. It's like someone's depriving her of her due process.

6. I swear my first New Year's resolution of 2011 will be to never, ever watch Jersey Shore again. Promise. Even if Snooki is a sometimes lovable lil train wreck.

7. M.C. Hammer pants, whatever you want to call them. These should never, ever, ever have made a comeback. There isn't a woman on the planet who could possibly look good in these, nor a husband or boyfriend who would tease the woman who wore them.

8. OK, this is for my friend Martin, a Minnesota native who has apparently sworn off his loyalty to the Minnesota Vikings since they picked up Brett Favre awhile back. Brett, who at 41 is a year younger than me, listen to me: You're an awesome QB. Everyone knows this. But you keep threatening to retire and then you don't. You drive people bananas. Personally, it's no skin off my nose what you do, but since I keep hearing about you, let's make a deal. You and I are old, respectively, for playing in the NFL and giving birth. How about you stop playing after this year and I'll stop having kids after my daughter is born this spring and we'll both just settle into our 40s gracefully. Whaddya think? P.S. Stop the sexting while you're at it. At our age, it's not sexy, it's lecherous.

9. Sarah Palin has a TV show? I must be living under a rock. Can't stand her politically, but oh, I can't resist reading about and watching her train wreck ways. It's just a guilty pleasure.

10. Facebook. Hey teenagers, you know we see that you post your every move and mood on Facebook, right? And that we laugh at you? Yes, we are mean, mean adults. Who thank God had no access to such potential sources of personal embarrassment back when we were your age. Back before the Internet was invented.

When in doubt or turmoil, think about running

2010-12-21T05:32:00.000-06:00

I woke up at 4 a.m. and could not get back to sleep. Why am I making myself so wound up about going to the unemployment office today? Ugh, I am dreading it -- being talked down to, getting nowhere, it's Christmas week, blah blah blah. I picture it to be a cross between the post office and the DMV. A couple of weeks ago I had an unpleasant experience with a CTA (that's our transit system, for you non-Chicagoans) worker. Long story short, she was going to ticket me for pulling my car up behind a disabled bus and was rather nasty about it when I explained I was dropping off my kid to catch his bus to Iowa. But she then disappeared and left me standing there, feeling like a dummy, and when she finally returned to her car she wouldn't answer me or even look me in the eye when I asked her if she was still going to ticket me or could I go now? I hate, hate, hate that frustration of being talked down to, as if I am no one.

So, when one is not sleeping and feeling all angsty, what do you do? Think deep thoughts and search for metaphors to make sense of it. (Oh lord yes, I do need to remember to take some Tylenol PM tonight and spare the world too many of my poetic outlooks on life, haha!)

I think what is driving me a little crazy is that by most accounts, things are hanging in there, despite my losing my job. The baby's healthy and coming in less than three months. The little toddler man is wonderful and adorable (and now can say "Da Bears" and "Cago Beers", his way of saying "Chicago Bears", very cute!).
The teenager's a teenager, haha, but mostly behaving :-). Of course, everytime I think of him I think of how he's been accepted to the University of Iowa (so unbelievably proud of him) and then I have a panic attack on how we will finance this. OK, back to the positive: I've had some very interesting job interviews lately, which gives me hope. So I keep telling myself, as do others, that it's not that bad. And yet I fret, fret deeply, new knots twisting themselves inside me despite my mental attempts at telling my critical and over-thinking brain to SHUT UP.

I keep a log of my running mileage. Lots of runners do. I'm already at my highest mileage year since I started really running regularly (and logging the miles in a ratty notebook) in 2007, the year I attempted my first marathon, the ill-fated Chicago marathon. (That's the one that was hot and got canceled midway. I still say I woulda finished it otherwise!)

2007: 735 miles (Year highlights: my first half and full marathons. Oh, and quitting smoking after 15 years. Woohoo!)
2008: 718 miles (Year highlights: pregnancy miscarriage first week of the year, decided to do the St. Louis marathon in April and finished it, yay! Juggled injuries to knees from what I would later learn was a really weak core. Got pregnant that summer with the little toddler man. :-) )
2009: 600 miles (Yes, I crammed in a bunch of miles in December to get to an even 600. Weird, I know. Highlights include giving birth to the little toddler man in April; running a lousy half marathon in July because I overestimated what I could do post-partum; but ran a PR in a half marathon in September, woohoo!)
2010: I'm at 916 miles right now, and figuring I'll get another 32 miles made up of 4 and 5 mile runs by the time all you non-pregnant folks are toasting at midnight. Yay, record year for me! I ran nearly two marathons (see below), three half marathons with a PR in June at one of them and two halfs during my pregnancy with the current wee one. It was a really good running year.

In thinking about 2010, I come to my little metaphor that helps me keep some perspective. I revved up at the beginning of the year to train for the Lincoln, Nebraska marathon in May. My home state, the race starts and ends at the beloved U of N stadium, home of the Cornhuskers. I marched on that field in high school (I was a flag girl with the marching band, cheerleader skirt and boots and all). It was going to be my post-partum marathon comeback and more.

Unfortunately the race was a disaster. I could not stop overheating on the sunny and nearly 60 degree day. I made a lot of mistakes, going out too fast, not fueling enough early on, and I think running through winter I just wasn't ready for "warmer" temps. I dropped out at mile 17, tearful and discouraged. After sulking and fretting for a day, I signed up for the Rockford, IL, marathon to be held two weeks later. The Rockford marathon wasn't pretty, but I finished it. So I'm telling myself that this whole job/unemployment thing is just another Lincoln/Rockford marathon chapter. You just don't know what's going to happen during a marathon when you line up at the start line that morning. But if you stick with it, you'll eventually finish that damn race, even if it's not the race you dream of having. That's my two cents from insomnia world. If you've actually read through this whole thing, I am touched. And wondering about you a little bit, haha. Thank you. :-)

Really trying here, folks...

2010-12-20T15:45:00.000-06:00

Warning: This will be a rant, so stop reading if you have enough crap on your plate.

I cannot figure out why after two months of unemployment I haven't received a dime in unemployment benefits. The state of Illinois system is not helping. The web site provides a customer service phone number that is busy all the time. As in busy signal, like we used to get in the 1970s. The local office in my 'hood provides a phone number with what seems like 400 prompts before it throws you into a black hole, er, I mean, general mailbox. My official letters state my benefits are being withheld because "a determination is pending." Of what? Why? I can't even get to a human being to find out. My family still needs to eat, you know? If anyone has any suggestions out there on how to deal with the unemployment office, I'd love to hear them. It is humbling enough to be unemployed without feeling like I'm groveling for unemployment payments.

At some point I should just laugh, right? This most recent letter, not the first I've received, comes on top of a sleep-deprived week thanks to the little toddler man who's getting more teeth, poor bug, and therefore sleep-depriving his parents. I fully recognize that this has a negative effect on my a. mood and b. ability to rationalize without flying into a tizzy or bursting into tears. The bathroom sink clogged up this morning at 5 a.m., just hours before another job interview. Thank goodness for my husband for juggling that and my toddler while I tried to find accommodating, interview-worthy clothing to wear around my increasingly pregnant torso. (Even my husband is acknowledging how large I'm getting.) (I should mention he is also hiding in the basement far away from my moods, poor guy.) And the zipper of my warmest coat busted while walking around the frozen Loop today, making me even grouchier and colder. And I sound like I'm smoking a pack a day again thanks to a lovely and noisy cold that has settled into my chest. UGH.

I know, I know, people have real problems and I should shut it. I can hear it now. I have a roof over my head still, there's food in the cupboard, etc., I know. I'm an ass to complain. But man oh man, someone send some of this damn holiday cheer I keep hearing about all the time my way. Because I am trying to be a big girl and not cry.

Another pregnancy book to scare, er, I mean, educate mamas to be

2010-12-16T12:31:00.000-06:00

I've just eaten all of the Hershey's kisses in my Christmas stocking. On December 16. Is that bad?

I reviewed a new pregnancy book, pictured left, here. When I had my now18-year-old son, I poured religiously over the bible of pregnancy books, What to Expect When You Are Expecting. I was so clueless, so it was my lifeline. But it also made me so anxious about everything that could go wrong. Now that I'm pregnant with kid No. 3, I'm just chilling and eating Christmas candy. And reading more entertaining books.

Oh, and Santa, if you're reading this blog today, please bring the chocolate kisses with caramel, please. I've gotten bored of the plain chocolate ones.

What are you bad at?

2010-12-14T11:00:00.000-06:00

I've been blessed to get a handful of job interviews lately. It's interesting to compare interviewer styles and preparedness.

Recently I was in a series of interviews that were very well organized and scripted, which my process-oriented brain likes. I was asked a few questions, though, that just stumped me, including what aren't you good at? That's a fair question, but a toughie. You don't want to say "Oh, I keep a really messy desk and I tend to show up to work with dried banana smeared on my blouse" or "I have a potty mouth that would make a longshoreman blush", you know, LOL?

But I wanted to be honest, so I had to think about that carefully. I'm sometimes not as forceful or assertive as I should be -- I get a little intimidated if the atmosphere is kind of hostile and sometimes tend to not speak up. (OK, if my husband is reading this, he is laughing his head off. But we're talking about work here, people!) I also get impatient with people if I think they're not performing up to their potential -- if they're quick to make excuses and not try. (OK, I might be talking about my teenage son now. Poor eldest child. I'm the oldest of three, I can relate.)

I asked my interviewer, rather apologetically, why he asked. His answer made me feel better -- that basically, he wants to figure out if job candidates are self-aware. You know, really knowing yourself and what you're good at and what you're not.

Could you answer that question honestly?

Jogger vs. runner? Bigger deal than you'd think!

2010-12-09T10:09:00.000-06:00

I read this Runners World piece on the word "jogger" and its use by the media with great interest, being a runner and a freelance journalist. My goodness, "jogger" is a bad thing to be in a news headline -- runner, notsomuch? Think I'll stick with my preferred "runner" self description, thanks! Truth be told, I hate the word "jogging" -- I run, I don't "jog".

My mother's battle to recover from a stroke -- putting things in perspective

2010-12-08T12:34:00.005-06:00

It is 12:08 p.m. on Wednesday. I am still in my sweats, which have a dried smear of my toddler's breakfast banana on them, and a small pile of Hershey's kisses wrappers lie on the kitchen table to my right. Pretty picture, huh? LOL.

I am procrastinating going to the gym. At the start of my unemployment, I figured, oh man, I'll get four runs in a week instead of my normal three (which I've achieved during unemployment)and I'll get more cross-training in like yoga and workout DVDs (which I've done). But the hard part, at least this week, has been motivating myself to just go run when I know on days like today, I *really* have any time of the day to go -- previously, 5 a.m. was my only free time during the week, so I was up and running. If a little groggily sometimes. I swear, I am leaving the house by 1 to go run today.

I've decided to stop running outside for now -- sure, it coincides with Chicago's cold snap this week. But at just about six months, preggo, I can no longer keep up with my running buddies -- I keep getting these annoying ligament pains on my right side of my growing stomach that require slower speeds and walk breaks and I am too cheap to buy a maternity running belt when I'm three months away from having this baby. And now that it's icy out -- forget it. I am clumsy enough these days. I have mysterious bruises and cuts everywhere becasue I can't stop knocking into things.

But, these are very minor problems to have compared to what my mother is going through. I've posted about her here before and how she quit smoking a couple of months ago after smoking most of her life, go Mom.

Last week, following a second surgery in six weeks, she had another stroke. She couldn't talk, eat, or really do anything for herself. :-( I flew home Friday to see her. It was sad to see her look so frail in a hospital bed, barely able to utter more than a word or two. She's only 62, way too young to be there.

That day, she was moved to another hospital for in-patient rehab, including physical, occupational and speech therapy. I'm so happy to report that in the three days I was there, I watched her learn to sit up in her wheelchair, saw her learn to feed herself again and by the third day have short conversations with me. She is learning to walk with a walker again in physical therapy. She can now raise her right arm, but has quite a bit of work to do to regain her strength there and in her hand.

It took my mom having a stroke to get me out of my own stupid head -- so, so utterly focused on trying to find a new job and worrying about everything -- and think about and take care of someone else. I fed my mom, combed her hair, clipped her nails. It was a strange, new intimacy with my mother, with whom I've had a sometimes stormy relationship, sometimes OK relationship. It was oddly calming, and rewarding. I don't mean to make it about me, sorry, but I just felt so good that I could do something.

The outlook is pretty good, given the progress she's made in a short time. Time will tell, but I believe that if she keeps working as hard as she is, she could really bounce back and 2011 could be a wonderful, strong, active year for her. I so want to see her get her life back. I know she can do it. Go Mom go!

Review of Denise Austin's Quick Burn Cardio DVD

2010-12-08T12:07:00.000-06:00

I'm not a huge Denise fan, just because she's so damn chirpy, but this workout DVD I reviewed is pretty good.

The next time a cashier asks for your phone number...

2010-12-08T11:59:00.000-06:00

I reviewed this pretty cool book on how to disappear. I think the most interesting part of the book, though, is this world of "skip tracers" -- basically, private investigators -- and how much stuff they can dig up on any of us if someone wants to pay them to do so. I definitely think about my privacy -- and to whom I pass out personal info -- a little differently after reading this book!

Physique 57 workout review -- I love this DVD!

2010-12-01T09:46:00.000-06:00

Have you heard of Physique 57? Sofia Vergara (the Latina bombshell from "Modern Family", right) works out at Physique 57 studios, as does talk show hostess Kelly Ripa. (Yes, folks, I confess that I read US Weekly). Just throwing that in as a reason you may have heard of it, since Physique 57 doesn't have Chicago studios, just locations in New York and Los Angeles. Personally, celebs don't necessarily make me want to do a workout DVD, but this one is really something.

The founder of the Physique 57, a dancer by background, started selling DVDs of her "technique" and OMG, I absolutely love it! Here's my review from today's paper. Add this to your holiday wish gift list.

Unemployment and cookie dough, a dangerous combination

2010-11-30T11:21:00.000-06:00

Good grief, why did I buy the jumbo chocolate cookie dough yesterday? Guess what keeps calling my name and distracting me from being productive today? Yes, I am lame enough to blame an innocent roll of cookie dough. Darn it.

I think I somewhat compensated this morning by trying out for review a new Denise Austin workout DVD, Quick Burn Cardio. (that's Denise, right). It's pretty good and I'll post my review once it runs in the Sun-Times.

In the meantime, here is my review of NBC dietician Joy Bauer's new workout DVD (Bauer is pictured left). She's awfully chirpy, pretending she doesn't have this amazing dancer background and that she really is just like the rest of us -- but it's a pretty good workout and reasonably simple to follow. I like that I didn't feel inferior or intimidated by her, you know? If super chipper doesn't bug you, you might like this DVD just fine.

Finally, let's just file this under "Terrified to Send My Son Off To College Next Fall": after all of the controversy over Four Loko, the extremely caffeinated and alcoholic drink, now there is alcoholic whipped cream. Mamas are shuddering everywhere.

Laughing on Monday

2010-11-29T11:04:00.000-06:00

I had to chuckle at a tweet by a friend of mine I spotted this morning: "If I see one more story about shopping, I'm gonna throw up." As someone who spent many years as a journalist, I know there are just the stories you *have* to do, like the obligatory New Year's resolutions and top 10 "anything" lists, Valentine's Day readers-send-us-your-true-love stories, 10 things to keep your kids from getting bored on summer vacation, back to school shopping and the OMG, people are camping out in front of Best Buy on Thanksgiving for the 4 a.m. specials. (Above, photo from suntimes.com of Best Buy in Aurora on Friday).

In past years, such holiday antics like people bundled in blankets for days outside of a mall in anticipation of Black Friday left me rolling my eyes, but also made me anxious a bit. Like, oh crap, I had better get my butt in gear for the holiday shopping season. This year I feel strangely calm as an unemployed person. I mean, I will come up with a reasonable, careful budget and shop eventually. It's like having financial guidelines, er, restrictions, have simplified the task for me. Plus, I have time to hit Target today on Monday while everyone is back at work. In my sweats, too, if I want to wear them, haha!

I did buy one thing over the weekend, for myself. *wearingbagofshameovermyhead* I bought running shoes. Man, did they feel good on my feet this morning, all cushy and clean-looking. This morning also marks what I think will be my last run of the season in shorts -- it was 40 degrees and sunny, perfect running weather, but winter is knocking on the door loudly here.

Thinking about a marathon next year -- or heck, even just start running or run a 5k? I like this Weight Watchers story, actually, because it offers reasonable guidance on setting realistic goals. I'm a lifetime WW member from 2003 and have used WW to lose weight post-baby. Not sure I'd want to count points during marathon training, when I could out-eat an NFL lineman, but I know some folks do.

Happy running or whatever you're in to!

Workout DVD review: Billy Blanks Jr. "Dance With Me", plus upcoming reviews...

2010-11-22T12:10:00.000-06:00

My latest workout DVD review, here. I gotta admit, I'm not a fan of "dance" workouts. This is why I'm a runner -- very little coordination or rhythm required!

I will soon post reviews of some new DVDs that I'm more excited about, including Physique 57 and Joy Bauer's Slimdown.

Run like a mama

My 10th half marathon: a flash mob dance, ice, chafing and my second almost PR of 2012

Big boy potty

Mama

Happy New Year -- a little ol' race report

600 miles!

Big-boy bed

When your kids are 18 years, 5 months and 1 day apart

Race, race, race

Photo finish: Woman gives birth after running (and walking) marathon

Half marathon report

2 1/2 years old!

From good times to bad times

Happy endings

My friend Walter

'Little girl' reporter defended by editor

Trim and bouncy

Life after unemployment

As marathon looms, rookies' motivation hits the wall | Business Of Life | Crain's Chicago Business

Working girl

Back to school

Cool story on overtraining while running

13.1 reasons to run a half marathon, four years Marlboro Light-free and more

Back to work!

How I almost didn't meet Lori

Making your kids happy, and sad

For my friend Meg: How to get up early in the morning to exercise

4:35 a.m.

Run Like It's Hot

Powerless

No brats here

I am a very good girl today; and no, I've never found a dead body on a run

New crop of workout DVDs reviewed

From the Chicago Sun-Times

Time for a total workout

Fun with numbers

Where's my mojo?

Good-bye

Plop, plop, fizz, fizz, oh what a relief it is...

Newton, Iowa

Tammy Homemaker

A really nice Saturday

Belly up to the barre, baby -- new workout DVD reviews

Let go already, mama! And a good-bye to Hollydog

I can't just do one thing at a time any more

A great weekend and a little race report

Six months have gone by

Things are looking up

Operation Just Breathe is not going well

Workouts new moms can do with the baby - Chicago Sun-Times

On the job hunt

Baby C goes to the unemployment office

Wonder Woman goes for a run

Outta the gate...

Lady in waiting no more: My baby is born.

Parenting a teen -- no one can say it's boring!

Lady in waiting

Training for a marathon on a diet of McDonald's. Um, gross.

Just when I think I've got it all figured out -- my body says otherwise

Mommies and guilty pleasures

Four posts for the price of one -- interesting stories on pregnancy, running, fevers and quitting smoking

Four months of unemployment -- deep, thoughtful insights right here

Election night -- amid the celebration, a somber story

DVD review: Jane Fonda's new workouts

Getting closer to March Madness; or oh, I am such an impatient girl

"Older" brides

Running in the cold and your lungs

Running (and other exercise) helps you take care of your bones?

See Jane grow old...

Groundhog's Day 2011 -- a Chicago blizzard and six more weeks of... pregnancy!

No, letting me go run is GOOD for the marriage, really...

A seat at the table -- women on corporate boards

Oh magic closet fairy...

Feeling bearish, but cheered up by a little stinkerbutt...

Marathon madness -- running an indoor marathon

Get off of your pregnant butt! Pregnancy workout DVDs reviewed here

Feeling weightless

Don't have time to work out? Sure you do... boot camp series kicks off here

Woman takes fitness resolution to next level

Is it open season on pregnant ladies or what?

From the
Chicago Sun-Times