Going with it

I've been swimming like hell for a long time. Fighting currents and struggling to get breaths of sweet air in the rapids. So I find myself floating more now. Just riding the water. Not focused on dictating my direction anymore. Exhileration. Fear. The line between the two is transparent.

I'm writing from my Aunt's house in St. Petersburg. Drove down Thursday evening and this morning, spending the night at Exit 5, just before the Florida line. Chase is with me and it has been delicious to have this time with him, singing in the car, bouncing on the bed in the hotel, goofing off. His resilience is strong.

I'm sad that I didn't go to bootcamp again this week after Monday. This morning I was out of town obviously, but Tuesday and Thursday were missed primarily because I just couldn't / wouldn't sleep and I sort of allowed the logistics of organizing those mornings just slip away from me. Intellectually I know that I shouldn't beat myself up over it. I should start fresh next week, accept that I'm not perfect, accept that I should allow myself to be in a strange place this first week of separation. But in my heart I feel sad about it.

I'm nervous and excited about the 10K tomorrow. I stopped at Phiddipedes on Thursday afternoon and was able to find two Moving Comfort Jog Bras (I got one Maia style and one Fiona). When I tried them on I couldn't believe the difference. I'm so excited to run with a REAL bra supporting me tomorrow! And I indulged in a shorter pair of running tights and couple of new tops while I was there. I picked the tops off the racks in size M. Although I'm well endowed I don't mind showing it off and the rest of my upper body frame is petite so larges are usually too large everywhere else. But I only brought a L in the running tights into the dressing room. I'm well endowed in the rear as well. I pulled on the tights and thought there must be something wrong with the cut of them because they were all baggy across the tops of my thighs. I almost didn't dare to think that maybe they were just too big. But I switched them out, and guess what, a M was the right size. With the proper bra on, and my M running tights and my M top I looked hella cute! I even indulged in a few minutes of flexing muscles in the mirror. I'm down 14.5 lbs now, almost 3 bags of sugar I'm no longer lugging around with me everywhere!

My Aunt and Chase and I headed down to the little expo they had set up to pick up our race packets. This is my first race that included schwag. AND I'll get a chip in the morning! Chase will be running in the kids races after the 10k is done so we both got numbers. We had a good laugh when we pulled them out of the envelope. I'm number 13. He's number 1. Running this race, here in St. Pete where so much of my childhood and college years were spent, with my son, and without my husband, feels momentous. Our "random" numbers seem to reflect that. I'll wear my 13 proudly and make it lucky. And of course my son IS number 1.