What I Know For Sure

I got the idea for this post from Oprah. At the end of her magazine she writes her letter from the publisher, and it's always entitled, "what I know for sure." After reading her April issue, (you know the one with Michelle Obama on the cover with her), I started thinking... I know a few things myself. And I started jotting them down.

I won't bother you with all of what I know. You might not want to read them all. But I will give you a few every week. Here we go...

1. I have a closet full of clothes... But, why is it I NEVER have anything to wear?

2. I am smart... But, the more I try to help my kids with math homework, I. Q. points just fall off.

3. There are 24 hours in a day, and seven days in a week... Why is it Monday morning rolls around much faster that Friday afternoon?

4. Pretty bras make me feel sexy... But, they're crap on reinforcement, holding NOTHING! And what about that underwire?! That crap isn't worth a flip. And I bet it was a man's idea. Wash the bra a few times and that WIRE lets you know it's there, poking the HELL out of you every time you turn. But it's all about being sexy. Give me a good sports bra any day!

What do YOU know for sure?

Top 10 Indicators You Are Considered "Older"

1. Your kids refer to your childhood as, "Back in the day."

2. The music your kids listen to gives you a head ache.

3. You no longer consider 60 as old.

4. Your children are embarrassed when you dance. And those dances were HOT back in the day!

5. To you, skinny jeans (Straight legs), aren't knew... It's a revival.

6. You know all the words, and the dance to Michael Jackson's Thriller.

7. You remember the theme songs from The Love Boat, Gilligan's Island, Happy Days, and every other sit-com.

8. You used to collect baseball cards from Wonder Bread.

9. You speak and your parents voice comes out of your mouth.

10. Once upon a time, in a time long ago, you've had the experience of getting up, walking across the room, and turning the channel on a television, by hand.

Finishing The Race

Before I turned 40, I made a list of 40 things I want to do during the year. High on that list is walking in a marathon.

I had every intention of walking in the Little Rock Marathon March 14. Actually, my plans were to do the half, 13 miles. In November, shortly before Thanksgiving, I started training. Needless to say, I didn’t keep it up. Since I didn’t make that race, I figured I’d make the next one, Capital City Classic 10 K. It was the only other race before I turn 41 in May.

Even without training, (walking about once in the past two months), I was determined to walk in that race. And I did. My thinking was… I’m in pretty good shape, and 6.2 miles is doable. I might not have the best time, but I surely won't come in dead last.

I bought a new outfit to walk in, electric blue. It’s cute, and I was feeling really good about myself.

I had to park my vehicle on the road just after entering the park, and walk the rest of the way in (I realized later, I parked at the one mile marker). Getting there 30 minutes prior to the race, I observed the others. They were checking and strapping little monitors to their wrists, stretching and doing other SERIOUS runner stuff.

I am NOT a runner, and I was starting to feel a little intimidated. No one looked like a walker. They were all jogging around, stretching, and again, doing other SERIOUS runner stuff. Finally reaching the registration table, I asked, “Are there any other walkers?”

The nice lady said there should be some. I made it to the back of the line, with “the some,” (11).

The race started, the runners took off, and the walkers followed suit. I was at the very end with a mother and her two daughters, (D1 and D2), along with Thelma and Louise, (two older women in their 70s).

Sizing up the walkers, I decided, I would not be beat by Thelma and Louise. There was also a man just up ahead with this staggering walk, also appearing to be in his 70s. I set my sights on passing him as well.

Quickly, I got ahead of Thelma and Louise, and was in stride with Mom, D1 and D2. D2 dropped her keys, and they fell behind me. I made it to the one mile marker in 14 minutes and 53 seconds. Not too bad, staggering man was in sprinting distance, and I was feeling comfortable.

Maybe I was getting too comfortable. Thelma and Louise walked up on me, and passed me. I figured, I’ll just keep in step with them, and keep up with their pace. Around the one and a half point, the front runners meet us head on, running strong! That’s when Mom, D1 and D2 jogged up from behind, leaving me on the tail end.

Oh no, they didn’t!

I am NOT a runner, and had no intention of running, at all. But I had to. I simply refused to be dead last, especially behind a pair of 70-year-olds! I ran (more like walking fast, leaning) past Thelma and Louise, and the staggering man. Feeling good again!

After passing the mile two marker, just under thirty minutes, I came up on the three nurses, passed them, and put some distance between us. Shortly thereafter, I noticed Thelma and Louise were nipping at my heels. They made me run (walk fast, leaning) again. We played that game for about another mile. Every time they’d get close… I’d run.

Between the third and fourth mile, I could hear Thelma and Louise’s conversation. “It’s time for you to run. Every time we get close, you run ahead,” Louise said to me. They were on to me, and thought it was funny.

By then I was getting fatigued. I let them pass me, and had plans of lying low behind them for a while, catch my breath, and run real fast past them (Ha). The three nurses and the staggering man were still a ways behind.

Then I heard them coming. The three nurses were trying to run and catch up. They didn’t quite make it, but they did close the gap pretty good. I just needed to keep them behind me. My strategy had to change a little. If they started to run again, I would run too, and keep up. Stop when they stopped, catch my breath, and then run real fast and leave them behind (Ha, ha).

At mile marker four, the three nurses started running. I ran too, and kept up with nurse three, while the other two were a few paces ahead. We finally stopped running, (If that’s what you want to call it. They are not runners either.), and started walking. I don’t know if she walked away from me, or I slowed down. Either way, I got left behind. Thelma and Louise were now long gone, and I had fallen behind the three nurses. But, I was still ahead of the staggering man, and I wasn’t going to finish dead last, (Ha, ha, ha).

At the last mile of the race, I could hear the staggering man breathing, loud and hard. Crap, he could reach out and touch me. My vehicle was right there, and I wanted to get in and drive off. That was not an option, I had to finish the race. There is not another one before I turn 41.

Not only did the staggering man hawk (track term for run you down, and pass you) me down, finishing at least 100 meters ahead of me! I finished DEAD LAST!!!

My husband sympathized with me. He knows, and understood exactly why I walked. My cousin and friends, God bless their souls, consoled me with, “But at least you finished.”

Yeah, I finished behind Thelma and Louise, and the staggering man at 1:36:41.36. Then, I had to walk a mile back to my vehicle. And I did so, very slowly… with my hips, legs, and feet hurting, and a huge smile of accomplishment.

Not Bifocals Already, I'm Only 40!

I was coaxed into seeing my eye doctor this week. I had already walked around a few days with my left eye squinted shut. My cousin suggested something could actually be wrong.

Initially, the plan was to get the scratchy eye thing taken care of. I figured, since I was going, why not have an eye exam? I was due one, (the free one we pay for as part of the vision plan).
The doctor prescribed drops for my eyes… expected that.

My eyes have changed a little, and he adjusted the prescription accordingly… expected that too.

“I’m prescribing bifocals,” blind-sided me. That was so unexpected!

“Bifocals?” I chocked!

My eyes were bucked, and mouth wide open. I reminded myself of Jim Carey in the first Mask, where his eyes popped out of his head, extending about 10 inches.

“I’m not ready for bifocals. I’m only 40,” I told him.

The doctor tried to console me. He explained, I could get lineless bifocals, and no one will be able to tell. That was not the problem, I’m not vain. It’s the IDEA of wearing bifocals that bothers me! I’m only 40 (SCREAMING LOUDLY)!

As a kid, I remember my grandparents and great-grandparents wearing bifocals, and they were like 180 years old. But they looked good. My parents both wear bifocals. First my mother, at 50, and my father not too long ago and they are 62, and 63. There is a certain stigma associated with bifocals… being old. I’m only 40 years old, and bifocals are not for 40 year-olds. Especially 40 year-olds who look 26, like I do.

I don’t think I know anyone around my age wearing bifocals. A true sign of aging is a loss of hearing, memory and sight.

For some time now, my memory hasn’t been the greatest. That’s another post, for another day. But… my sight not being what it used to be bothers me, just a little.