My Return: Recap of Road Runner First Thursday Adventure Run

Minutes:  1 hour
Miles:  5.7
Classy Pants Strides

Alas, my triumphant return to running.  I kicked this off with the Laguna Hills Road Runner First Thursday Adventure Run.

Let’s just say that this moment was far less triumphant and more…well stumbling, bumbling and humbling.

First of all -I had two intentions of participating in this event.

1 – Meet new people.

2- Get Mama some new giveaway compression socks.

Here’s the way these work.

–>You register early to get your free beer ticket (this is of critical importance).

–>Next, you walk around, look at cool products, meet some neat people and if you’re me find a bathroom.

On a sidenote there are some…er…plumbing issues in my house right now so I’m going on 24 hours of no water.  So finding a bathroom was IMPORTANT.

–>In grand fashion, they reveal a map, you somehow record where to go and run like the wind to get tickets.

Big ol’ map

–>Next you find people to run with and go collect tickets at the various spots.

And this is where I forgot my numero uno purpose of this…RUN WITH PEOPLE.

I bolted out Lone Ranger style and got to a stop light where a group was already waiting.  They were all going one way and I was going the other to the “secret Facebook spot” for extra tickets going the other direction.  They headed my way to get the bonus tickets and we set off together.

For an hour, and 5.7 miles I got to know a great group of people, kept a nice slow, steady, I’m just coming off an injury pace and grabbed my tickets to be entered for the $3,500 of prizes they gave away at the end.

One way to go for a run with the dog…


Did I mention you have an hour to finish and get back to the store?   Our group was cutting it a bit close and that’s when my awkward, gangly identity reared it’s ugly head.

You see, to save time we may have sorta, kinda been jay walking.  A car came, I panicked and bounced into the bushes.  I hopped, skipped, and then my foot landed on the sprinkler cap.

It was a sad mix of awkwardness a la “Revenge of the Nerds” completed with a douse of “There Will be Blood”.  I was face down in the bushes. 

Weird angle: check….creepy looking uber small feet.: check..need for better camera skills in the self-portrait: check!

Freaking awesome.

This is why I usually don’t run with people.  Whenever I do, I seem to fall on the first meeting.  I clearly have the gift of making a fabulous first impression.

That said, everyone was really supportive and I don’t think they cared too much that my grace clearly knows no bounds and I am a fantastic klutz.  I got my free beer and never heard my numbers called. 😦

This is a giant knot that will likely be hanging around for a few weeks…probably sporting all sorts of pretty shades of purple, blue, yellow and brown. My own personal rainbow.

Light at the end of the tunnel: one of the women in my group remembered me saying I was vying for some new compression socks and had won a pair herself.

And she gave the certificate to me.  If you happen to see this Linda, thanks!  They made my evening!

So yes – mission accomplished on two counts…with yet another side of humble pie.


Feeling the Squeeze

Spinning Strides…
Going to hit the bike today

Recently I’ve been thinking a lot about my calves.



See we have a love/hate relationship. I love to make them hate me.

If the little muscle fibers in my calves were personified, they'd look like this.

If there’s one part of my body that’s going to get really short and tight (other than my attitude when my kids are crabby), it’s my calves.

The day after my marathon, 98% of my body felt good – but my calves – they had formed an angry mob.  It was like the 99% had staged an angry rebellion in the lower half of my legs.  They were beyond tight, swollen (truly, that’s never happened before), and throwing the kind of temper tantrum a 3.5 year old throws when you tell him/her we’re leaving Chuck E Cheese…now.

My family thought it was funny to have me run (I use that term loosely) upstairs to get things just to hear me grunt, growl and watch me waddle back down.  It was a sick little game they played.  I’m so glad my family has a sense of humor!

So all things considered, I’m thinking about putting the squeeze on these calves of mine:  methinks it might be time to check out the ol’ compression socks.

Do you use compression socks? Love ’em?  Hate ’em?
What kind do you use?
Tell me stories!