Sunday School Rebel

the year of reading about the end of the world as we know it

There are some people who really have it together and posted about their best reads of 2011 by, say, December 31st. I was still frantically reading my last read and trying to beat the clock so I could say that YES, I did meet my goal for 75 books for the year. After that, I was a little exhausted. 

Next thing I know, in a fever of New Year zeal, I upped my challenge to 80 books this year, because WHAT WAS I THINKING? 

It's so much fun to do these challenges (through Goodreads, where they have a handy thingy that calculates it all but oh beware to you if don't finish a book and then...what then? I'm still trying to figure it out) and it did keep me on track. I never have a problem with reading, it's more a problem of managing my books. I am a self-confessed book hoarder. I love my books. I like them all around me (hence, the Green Bean Kid calling our bedroom 'the library' back in the day) and I like to have plenty to choose from. My county library system is truly the best and they have wonderful NEW books that tempt me all the time. I'm trying to be better about my library queue and not amassing a big pile of books that wait impatiently for me to hurry up and get to them NEXT. 

That pile is just INSANE. I soon after weeded through it and am relieved to tell you it's much more manageable. 

But after a full year of reading, I really do want to give gold stars to the best of the best. I love seeing the patterns that emerge. 2010, I got on a polygamy kick, but 2011 was the year of the dystopian novel. Not surprising, since it's the hot genre of YA and beyond, but it was really fascinating for me. So we'll start with those. 

Would you believe I'd never read The Giver? And now it is the gold standard, the one to whom all dystopian works should be comapred. It was complete and whole and heartbreaking. I quickly read the next two, and oh - Gathering Blue is also really wonderful. 

Matched was compelling, and I loved the emphasis on poetry. Pretty much the worst thing you could have me imagine is a world without story or poetry. I really like this series and want to have my own copies. Still waiting to read the second book. 

Divergent is just as wild and good as everyone has said. No let down here, just lots of good story. I brought it with me on our anniversary weekend in Mobile and COULD NOT PUT IT DOWN. Romantic, I know! Thankfully, I have a husband who loves to sit on porches and read just as much as I do. (We are a good match.) Which reminds me, I think this is a good crossover book for guys, too, because there's FIGHTING. Ever since I convinced Beaux to read The Hunger Games trilogy, I like trying to convince him to read other good dystopian reads. It makes me wildly happy to read the same books (since it doesn't happen OFTEN) but I tend to plow through way more books. It may have something to do with NOT HAVING A FULL TIME JOB, I don't know? 

That porch was the best. 

I also finally read The Passage, which I do not necessarily recommend. Mixing up dystopian and vampires is, well, a lot. First of all, it's absolutely gigantic. I don't know what the deal is, but for some reason it seems I keep picking up giant tomes when I have a GOAL of reading a certain large number of books. It stresses me out. You know those kids in elementary school who would brag about "Oh, I'm on page 82?" I hated that. I was too busy reading the story to worry about page numbers. Still, it's a long book.The deal is, I did LIKE The Passage. The beginning was pretty harrowing.Then you leave the first story and end up in a whole new place and set of characters; I kinda needed a chart in the front of the book to keep everyone straight. I think it would have been much better to break it up into two books. Of course, there's a sequel, so I guess this is a story with much to be explained and explored. I do think it will make a really good movie. It FEELS like it was written with a movie in mind, which may be one of the problems I have with it. 

Since it seems this post is going to be solely about my dystopian kick and not the other genres I enjoyed (I'll get there) I'll wrap it up with When She Woke. This novel was especially enticing (and scary) after what we dealt with in Mississippi in November. (Oh, we're still dealing with it. It's like a pop-a-weasel with a weasel that just won't roll over and die already.) When She Woke is very much like The Handmaid's Tale, with nods to The Scarlet Letter as well. In this fictional America, abortion is illegal. Fertility is rare and precious. In this world, criminals are not sent to live in jail for lifetime sentences but "chromed" and sent out to live as best they can in society. Hannah is dyed red and everyone knows her crime. It's a riveting story and a subject I take pretty dang seriously. 

The element that always causes me to really think, in dystopian scenarios, is the part where all art and literature is lost. That always seems so impossible to me - when I think of all the books in the world. Art can be scattered or destroyed, but still - I would totally be that person who hid books like a box full of gold and made sure some of it survived. It makes me feel like I should assemble an 'in case of the end of the world" must have box/fireproof safe of books. Goodness, where would you even start? 

 

 

 

 

the first 5k (!) (no, really) (I FINALLY DID IT, Y'ALL!)

Long time no blog, I know. But if there were ever a time to write about anything it would be this: 

I RAN MY FIRST 5K!!!! 

I know that is NOT a big deal for a lot of people. Some of you probably ran 5ks as a family, or just for fun. No big deal. But it is a pretty big deal for me so you get to hear ALL ABOUT IT. 

Let's see - I completed my Couch to 5k app back in December. That was excellent, because when it came time to flake out due to Thomas being out of school (no childcare and I couldn't make myself get to the Y) and the holidays I didn't have to feel TOO guilty. But then it was time to start running again when our normal life resumed and I struggled. Not too bad, but sometimes it feels TOO cold or rainy, perhaps. I had started tracking my mileage toward the end of 5k training and realized that while I could run for 30 minutes (not without a few breaks) I was still not going 3.1 miles. I am total slowpoke. Sometime after I wrote my last post about running, I had graduated to running in the neighborhood and I adore it. By now, I do get bored with the same ol' route BUT I am changing it up and getting more adventurous. 

But that didn't stop me from signing up for a 5k, sponsored by the local school district. At first I thought it was just for the elementary school where Thomas attends speech-preschool. Then I went to pick up my packet and got my number - #399! That's a LOT of people, y'all. I was secretly relieved because I was afraid it would be a tiny race and my slowness would be very, very apparent. 

I've been running since September and it WOULD be the week of my first 5k that I dealt with my first injury, right? I'd been thinking about the problem of distance and decided to try the treadmill at the Y. I thought it would be easier if I could just keep going and going without having to navigate a route. It turned out that it was NOT easier and altogether really bad. First of all, treadmills may have fans but it's nothing like God-given breezes out in the open. Our winter weather is, as always, really weird and funky. Hot one day and cold the next. It was a humid day and I was dying in the gym. Then, ten minutes in, I flipped my glasses off the treadmill. I take off my glasses when I run because the sweat was giving me an unattractive zit right in between my eyes. The cord to my earbuds did a weird snap and flipped my innocent spectacles right over my head. So I had to stop the treadmill and search for my glasses and then lost all that momentum/info. Aggravating. Last but not least, my feet started hurting. Badly. I knew I was due for a new pair of running shoes - I had stupidly bought a pair of Pumas off the rack at TJ Maxx to get me through for awhile. It was just kinda awful, and yet I don't remember my feet really hurting until I got through Zumba the next day. 

That didn't stop me from trying to run on Wednesday. At first I really thought it would be okay, because I could feel my feet hitting the pavement differently than my treadmill run. But soon it was just too much and I realized I had to stop. I didn't want to hurt myself so bad that I couldn't run on Saturday, and so I came straight home. First of all, I sent messages to two friends who are runners for advice. I called up our local Fleet Feet to find out if they charged for their consultations - and guess what! THEY DON'T! So that took a load off my mind - I quickly showered and headed over to buy new shoes. It's one of those situations where you kick yourself for not doing the right thing earlier. If you're like me, you just cringe at shelling out the money but it's beyond worth it, I promise you. The guys there were so sweet and I hobbled out of there with a pair of new shoes that felt like Cadillacs for my feet. And special socks. And inserts that cost more than the stupid the pair of shoes I bought at TJ Maxx. BE YE NOT SO STUPID, Y'ALL. 

The word from my friends was that I might be experiencing plantar fasciitis. I needed to rest, ice my foot, and hope for the best. So that's what I did for the next two days. 

Saturday morning arrived. My alarm went off and I felt a strange mixture of excitement and dread. What had I gotten myself into? 

It was sunny but cold out. I put on my "cold weather shirt" under my race t-shirt but then ended up taking it off. Plain long-sleeved cotton shirt instead, my new running shoes - I was ready. I had to force myself to eat that Larabar. I couldn't figure out if my number should go on the front of my shirt or the back. It's like I'm a toddler when it comes to this whole running and raciing thing. It is truly remarkable I didn't show up with my underwear on my head. 

I wasn't 100 % sure of WHERE the start location was. Dear God, race people - would an address to put into Google Maps kill you? It turned out it was right off the Reservoir. Traffic was closed down in one lane across the Spillway. I didn't even have time to process it, was too busy trying to strap on my phone armband, figure out where the start line was. It was a little crazy. Tons and tons of people and Thomas and Beaux hurrying behind me. Before I knew it, the horn went off and the land mass of people started moving. 

Let me fully admit right here that I got teary-eyed as we started. This was it! I was in a real 5k! I had followed through to this very moment and I wanted to cry from the magnitude of it all. The most non-atheletic, most-inclined-to-sit-on-the-couch-with-a-book-and-a-snack girl was moving my feet and running alongside total strangers. 

It was all kinda weird. I am NOT used to running by anyone. My foot was hurting but I could push through it. For awhile. There were people walking very fast and people jogging slowly. There were mamas with jogging strollers, containing kids all bundled up against the wind. And it was WINDY. I wasn't prepared for it and wished for my hat, kinda like a kid wanting their security blanket. I finally set my running GPS and had to stop to walk way before I wanted, due to my foot. 

I think the main lesson of this first 5k was dealing with outright discomfort. My foot was hurting and I was doubting why I'd even tried this. My other foot started giving me twinges because I was shifting weight from the hurt foot. I sound like an 80-year-old writing this, I know. The concept of 3.1 miles in this wind and on this road over the Reservoir seemed insane. BUT there were other people running, trusting they could do it. I could do it, too. I had to make peace with the fact that it may not be how I wanted it, but I was here and there was no option other than completing it. 

I admit that the first person I saw running back, when I barely had gotten into the race, brought up some envy. There was a flash of muscular legs and practically a cloud of dust following him. How can ANYONE go so fast? Who invited the Kenyan? No, really, it was a strange mixture of envy and inspiration. 

The breakthrough, as always, was half-way. There's just something about knowing you can keep going, that it's already half over. All of this makes it sound like I hate running - I don't. I just struggle with it still, and especially when I'm hurting. I look forward to the time where running 3 miles is something easy, or at least not such a struggle. It's a practice, and I have never been very good at practicing anything. But the beauty in practice, any practice, is that you look up and you're doing whatever you're practicing and it's not such a big deal. 

When I could see the last stretch, I pushed myself. Somehow, the pain disappeared. Running that last bit was easy, was wonderful, and I would give anything if I could have felt that good the whole race through. I finished in 44:04, which wasn't too bad for me, especially with extra walking. Beaux and Thomas missed me coming through the finish line but it was so wonderful FOR ME that they were there. Not so wonderful for THEM but I'm hoping one day Thomas will understand. I would love for him to do little fun runs. Yes, I saw KIDS running the 5k and that made me even more determined to keep going. 

All of that to say, I'm so glad I did it. I can't wait to do it again. I'm working on running faster than a sloth and yet slower than a Mississippi Kenyan. In the meantime, I'm being careful with this silly foot, resting. Today it doesn't hurt, and Monday I ran with no pain at all. GAH. So boring to talk about, but I hate feeling less than 100% my normal healthy self. But so much thanks goes out to all of you who have cheered me on here, on Facebook, on Twitter. I report in because I desperately need accountability. I need those little pats on the back to help me keep going. And a huge amount of credit goes to anyone who has been kind enough to give me advice, especially my friend Heather on Facebook, my inspiring high school buddy Brandy, and the one and only Miss Zoot. Her running experience has helped me believe I could keep trying and trying and that maybe one day I'll be brave enough to try a running group. 

Could this post be a return to blogging regularly? I really want it to be. I'm so rusty at writing, it's taken me three days to write this post. BUT I want to talk about my favorite reads of 2011, even though we're solidly into 2012, and just write to remember these days. How awesome Thomas seems to be doing, language-wise, and how it's still an uphill climb. We've signed him up for beginner's soccer and weirdly, I CAN'T WAIT. And! I haven't blogged about our new, adorably maddening puppy, Moose. Oh, Moose. So yes. Stay tuned.