The Seven Dwarves of Stress

What does stress do to a person? It sucks the life out of you. It makes even fun things seem like chores. It takes the joy out of your every day. I sure thought this year was going to feel different, that I was going to run like the wind, sing like a bird, laugh like a kid after a soda and some cotton candy and some cap'n crunch. But stress swooped in and talked me into losing sight of what life is really all about.

Well dammit, that’s enough. I’ve had it up to HERE with the Seven Dwarves of Stress: Mopey, Cranky, Edgy, Forgetful, Achy, Gloomy and Fat. Be gone with you stinking nasty Seven Dwarves of Stress. I don’t like you, have never liked you. GET OFF MY RIDE!

There, that’s better. Now I know they will creep back in, they are truly the sneakiest of bastards, but I’m going to give them a real fight. I began the chase earlier this week when Achy took over my neck and back and shoulders and knocked me flat. Boy howdy, that flat makes me mad. Who died and made Achy the king of my life? Be gone with you Achy! With the help of the Magic Dr. Simon and a little new awareness of how STRESS can rule your life, I do believe that Achy is soon to be history. Grrrrrr. Achy better be afraid.

Started (yes, started, give me a break) my running life again this month, before Achy came to visit. And you know what I have rediscovered? The best way to out run the Seven Dwarves of Stress is to run. Okay, walk and go faster and joggle in all the jiggly places (damn that Fat Dwarf), but just get that wiggle on. When I’m breaking a sweat, I seem to be breaking up with the SDoS. So I am coming back to my life; making the time for me and my real friends, the Seven Sisters: Silly, Funny, Hopeful, Noisy, Lively, Lovey and Totally Bitchin’. Oh how I love Totally Bitchin’.

Those are my dogs. Max and Kate. They are going to help me banish Fat and embrace Totally Bitchin'.

2010 SHAMROCK RUN-

Some habits are hard to break. Or is it that some habits are hard to start. I do believe I wrote something about updating my blog in between events….oh well. It’s Shamrock Season already!

To celebrate the loss of an hour of sleep, we got up well before dawn to join the 20,999 other people who are inclined to spend a Sunday running around Portland. Dressed in Green. The 2010 Shamrock Run was the total opposite of 2009 which was a monsoon complete with screaming wind, biting rain and running shoes that took a week to dry. 2010 was cold, crisp, clear and a perfect morning for a run with your friends.

Since this was my 2nd year, I thought I had the lessons down pat. Pee first, run second. Carry the tiny camera. Ditch the hat, but tie back the hair. That was the plan. It took us much longer to get into town this year since the train wasn’t running as often for some crazy reason. And since we had been waiting for so long, we jumped on the first train that came along. Unfortunately this was NOT the train that runs next to the course. Who knew? When did they put in THAT set of tracks? At least we weren’t alone. Standing room only, elbow to nose. I’m short. Once we stopped it was a mad dash down to the race start, stopping at the honey bucket along the way. As we neared (NEARED) the porta-potty, heard them start the countdown for the race. So instead of getting to pee, had to get my extra clothes off and run back to the staging area. As I ditched my clothes, also forgot all about the tiny camera and something to tie back my hair. Check out this hair:



In spite of my planned zen-like start gone awry and once again running on a full bladder, I had a FABULOUS run, uh, joggle. I set no speed records, but I kept my wiggle on the whole way. Nearing the top of the Broadway Miserable Mile (uphill then a little more uphill, rewarded with some more uphill) I almost gave in. Was THIS CLOSE to taking a little breather, figured no one would even notice if I walked just a tiny tiny bit to catch my breath (heart rate 170)….when a little person passed me. Maybe 7 years old. With legs MUCH shorter than mine. Sigh, huff, puff, motor on. I think I saw a buzzard up above circling, but I faked him out. Decided to carry on, not become carrion. Then came the downhill dash to the finish. Well, dash might be too strong a word. Once again, the husband was on hand to prove that I made it on my own two legs:



With a race of this size and starting in the back of the pack, even a pokey puppy like me has to maneuver around and through people and sometimes feels like you’re going so slowly that you’re running in place. Not complaining, however. It’s a great morning when you see such a wide variety of regular folks out doing something good for their bodies and good for their souls. When I was younger, it never even crossed my mind to do this running thing unless I was chasing after the ice cream truck or running away from responsibility. Now that I am old, hoping to show others my age that it can be done. We don’t have to give away our mobility. We don’t have to stand on the sidelines and watch. We can be the movers, shakers, doers. And trust me, I get lots of shaking going on. And there are rewards:

A Chubby Girl looks at 50

Back in the running shoes once again. I stepped on the scale last week and found an extra six pounds hitching a ride into the new year. Damn the egg nog and rum and nuts and candy and fudge and cookies and lack of motivation to get out there and get my wiggle on.


I’m one of those people that BELIEVES that the new year brings a fresh start. And I am always just a little disappointed when the new year ends up being just a continuation of the old one. This is going to be a big year for me: I turn 50 in just a few short weeks. FIFTY. I am in shock that THIS is what 50 feels like. I thought by this time in my life I’d know all the answers, be settled, be rich, be old. Well, none of those seem to be true. I have more questions every day. Unsettled seems to be my middle name. My retirement dollars are more like retirement cents. And I refuse to act or be my age.


Last year I completed several 5k’s and enjoyed the last one just as much as the first one. I do not love the act of running, I love the act of finishing. I love the feeling that I started and finished something. I love the sweat and the wild hat hair. I love that my goofy husband follows me to these runs and takes the pictures to prove that his aging wife is refusing to grow up. I am lucky in many ways. I have good health, fabulous friends, bad dogs and the sense to appreciate all of the above.

So this year, I hope to blog a little more often. I’ve noticed that I generally write when I have an EVENT. Life is not just about the EVENTS, it is about the day to day, the ups and downs, the smiles and the tears. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Happy 2010. Let’s make it a TEN!