The man that hung the moon, part 2.

The world lost a good man last night.

 

I am sad that I will never get to hear his laugh again, or feel his hug, or listen to some long winded story from the good ole days but I am not going to dwell on that sad. I am going to celebrate his life and the 26 years I was able to spend with him. I am going to remember all of the good times and the laughter. I am going to remember how handsome he always looked in a suit with his boots and bolo tie. I am going to spend time with my family as we laugh, cry, and remember. I will probably get a little drunk on bourbon and spill some red chili on my white shirt. So please celebrate a good, long life and remember all of the good times and how lucky we all were to know him.

The man that hung the moon.

I am going to take a step away from my normal blog topic, this has been a rough couple of days and I need an outlet.I am a very private person and I try to keep my everyday life (outside of my food and workout habits) off of the internet. I am not a talker and I tend to hold things inside for my own worry wort pleasure. So please bear with me as I try something new...

Day by day we are coming closer to losing a great man. I have been blessed to have many great male figures in my life including my dad, my brother, my cousins, my uncles, my husband and my grandfathers. I have been even more blessed to have all of them for 26 years but that record is quickly coming to an end as my Papa loses the battle against his health in Texas. He has lived a long time and in my eyes had a pretty good one.

 I don't want this to be depressing so here is to the man who hung the moon, Domingo Tellez...

Here is to the WWII veteran, the father, the grandfather, the husband. The detective, the police officer, the original DIY'er. The man who could fix anything, build anything and if you don't believe me then just threaten to pay someone to do the job in front of him. The man who carried around his grandchildren, drove them to school, let them ride in the back of his truck, drove them around the west coast, and let his granddaughter brush his hair and play pretend. The man that couldn't hear a damn thing. The man who could never get to the grocery store enough, and who was constantly worried about running out of toilet paper. The man that would eat anything and by his own confession would eat shit if it was prepared right. The man who preferred two fingers of the nasty. The man that built a see saw for the kids to play on and who would give them candy when mom's weren't looking. The man that would call me a smartass and then give me a hug.

He loves all of us without abandon, he gave the best hugs and I will miss him tremendously. Please say a prayer for him and my family, then have a shot of bourbon in his honor. Salud!

26.2 miles later

I survived and shockingly I even kind of enjoyed it. I never thought I would ever say that much less that I could see myself doing it again. Even that morning as I woke up and dragged myself to bathroom I could not sum up the energy to be excited about the run. I was like gumpy cat...

Husband: Yay this is everything you worked for!
Lauren:

 

Hubby: This is great music, aren't you excited??

Lauren:


Hubby: this is exciting, look at the crowd!

Lauren:



It was really hard to get over my anxiety, I was so terrified that I would fail. The thought of what I had to face for the next 5-6 hours threatened to jeopardize everything I had worked for. Luckily it got better, once I got out on the course I started to enjoy myself, its hard not to when you are running past stunning views of the ocean and some of the most expensive real estate in Southern California. I relaxed a little bit and started to think positive thoughts. The first 13-14 miles went really quick, there was so much to look at that it really kept your mind off of running. People lined the road to watch family and friends,they cheered, they laughed and they supported random strangers. Even the residents got into the spirit of things, they sat on their porches with cold water, snacks for the runners, and words of encouragement.  Around mile 15 my hip and knees really started to hurt so I had Scott bring me some more ibuprofen. Scott was nice enough to pack a back pack with about 75 pounds of random shit (sunscreen, extra goos, ibuprofen, water, powerade, bananas, oranges, etc) and he rode along the course on his bike with his mom, bouncing back and forth between me, stacey, and heather. Mile 20 is when it really sank in that I was running a marathon and that I still had 6 miles to go. I kept telling myself that 6 miles is no big deal, I had already ran 20 and 6 miles is just a warm up. Well those happy thoughts lasted until about mile 22. Don't let anybody tell you different, the last couple miles of a marathon kick your ass, they are mentally defeating. But this is where you put all of your sweat, tears, shin splints, cramps, and all out exhaustion into everything you have. You pull some kind of energy out of god knows where and you power through. The feeling you get when you finally cross that finish line is unlike any other. The exhaustion mixed with your emotions can be a royal mess but the empowerment, the feeling of achievement,  and the pride is completely overwhelming. It is one of the best feelings I have ever felt.  I understand now why people do this on a regular basis, its something to fight for, something to be proud of, and its something that you can share with only a few people.

After the race we all went back to the hotel to shower and change our of our running clothes. When I came back downstairs my parents had a pepperoni pizza and a tall boy of corona waiting for me (they know me so well) and if you are wondering... I did share my pizza (my dad made me).

Monday was a new experience, I have never been so sore in my life. If/When I run another marathon I will make sure to take the next day off, walking down the stairs took at least 20 minutes and my friend at work called me speedy all damn day. I could barely walk, it was more of an old man shuffle. I am still pretty sore today but I am at least able to walk without people asking me if I am ok.

I am taking this week off to eat what I want, not work out, and let my body rest. Next week I will be back on the egg white express to bikini town but for now I am just going to enjoy myself :)



Before I forget, I want to thank everyone who came out to support me, Heather, and Stacey. Thank you Scott, Mom, Dad, and Karen.

Thank you Heather and Stacey for going along with my idiotic plans

Thank you Larry and Krisha for watching my kids

Thank you random people with hillarious signs

Most memorable Signs:

• Good Job random stranger!
• WTF (where's the finish)
• High five station
• make this mile your bitch
• Worst.parade.ever.     also    This is a weird Parade
• Smile if you're not wearing underwear

Thank you random strangers for orange slices at mile 23

and last but not least....

Thank god its over!!! (for now...)

It's the final countdown!!!! (it's ok to sing the title, I did)

We are now in the official 48 hour countdown to the marathon. Two words... HOLY SHIT.

How did the time go so fast? It seems like just yesterday we were talking about the idea of running a marathon... Now almost a year later we are packing and getting ready to head to California. I think it really hit me yesterday when I left work, I put my out of office on, forwarded all my calls and ran out the door. As soon as I hit the outside air my first thought was Fuuuuuuuuudge, what the hell did I get myself into?!?! I know that seems silly, I have been training for months, I have run countless miles, and now it hits me? 72 hours before? well planning has never been my strong point...

I have so many emotions running though me, my own a.d.d. can't keep up. This is going to suck, my poor knees, maybe I can fake a sickness, holy shit holy shit holy shit, this is going to be awesome, what am I going to do with all my spare time now that training is done? maybe I should sign up for a new race, I am never running again! maybe a triathalon? I'm not going to share my pizza with anyone, seriously. How soon can I get ice cream? will my body hold up? did I pack enough ibuprofen?  did I pack my shoes? Shit, where are my shoes? and so on and so forth... the dogs gave up trying to follow me around the house and are just laying down watching me with feigned interest.

I know what we are doing is capital A, AWESOME but I don't think that feeling will hit until I am done. And even then it might take me a week or so to look back on the race with positive thoughts...

wish me luck, pray for knees and stay the hell away from my pizza :)