Lazy W Marie

summer 2014 vital stats

September 24, 2014

Well, friends, like it or not (though judging from the overdose of pumpkin everything we are seeing, most people really REALLY like it) autumn has arrived. Summer 2014 has finally drawn to a close, and here we are. My husband is particularly inconsolable. Why God didn’t allow that man to be born on a beach I will never understand.

I thought to commemorate this calendar event we would record some vital statistics from one of the loveliest, though fastest moving, summers in recent history. It really has been magical in many ways.

Sunburns: 1 (I was outdoors all day every day but also really good about SPF this year so apparently I’m a grown up now)
Pounds of tomatoes harvested: one million (just trust me, ok?)

tart made with homemade crust and garden fresh tomatoes and herbs

Pounds of zuchinni harvested: two million
Squash Bugs battled: 70 trillion (let’s revisit that one with a depressing photo, shall we?)

squash bugs — hell hath no fury like a gardener overrun with these monsters

Pumpkins grown here at the farm: 24 (but they were all destroyed in one weekend by squash bugs)
Watermelons grown here at the farm: 7 (and they were beauties)

fresh homegrown watermelon oklahoma — If 2013 was the Summer of Basil, then 2014 has been the Summer of Watermelon…xoxo

Total watermelons eaten by me, all by myself, often in one sitting: 16
Goose attacks by Johnny Cash against me: just one (but it was really terrifying)

goose bite — A goose attacked me and I almost died. “That’s gonna leave a mark!”

Goose attacks by Mia against Handsome: innumerable
Bonfires enjoyed here with friends & loved ones: 7 (more to come now that the weather is mellowing)
Number of times I cut my own hair: 3 (send professional help)
How many times I won a trophy at a car show with my super cute Jeep-Jeep: 1 (and on a dare I did a cartwheel to celebrate)
Total number of car shows Handsome & I attended: maybe 8 (they are bone-melting hot but SO FUN)

I love this man more and more every week, for ever-expanding reasons. He is enduring one of the hardest years in his entire life and we appreciate every prayer, every hug, every supportive thought that is sent his way! xoxo — I love this man more and more every day, for ever-expanding reasons. He is enduring one of the hardest years in his entire life and we appreciate every prayer, every hug, every supportive thought that is sent his way! xoxo

Icy-slushie Drinks consumed after long sweaty hours of yard work: 12 (Dr. Pepper flavor for Handsome, coconut for me)
Number of stings endured: 5 (one wasp, one bumblebee, three Lazy W Honeymaker stings)
Miles ran: 153 (weak season, but I kind of needed the break mentally and physically, now getting back at it slowly)
Times I bought new bed sheets and put them on our bed without washing them: 0 (because that’s gross)
Times I bought new bed sheets and washed them before putting them on our bed: 1 (because I am a normal person)
Amount of wild Canadian goslings we adopted: 1 (and we love him so much)

wild Canadian gosling adopted by South African gaggle — Duck Duck the goose

Total number of photos I snapped of my gardens: 857 (times a thousand)
Total number of photos I snapped of my bees: 438 (also times a thousand)
Total number of times my iPhone storage was used up as a result: 9

The Lazy W Honeymakers also love the color turquoise. They told me so.

Prayers answered: More than I have slowed down to count. But to sit and gaze at them in my heart is overwhelming. God is good. Life is beautiful. None of these summertime memories and none of our pain will be wasted. I am filled with gratitude and hope! Ready for the next season, whatever it brings.

So… Happy end-of-summer-start-of-autumn, sweet friends. I would love to hear a few of your memorable statistics from the past few months. Thank you so much for stopping in and saying howdy!

Mr. Avery said it was written on the Rosetta Stone that when children disobeyed their parents, smoked cigarettes and made war on each other, the seasons would change. Jem and I were burdened with the guilt of contributing to the aberrations of nature, thereby causing unhappiness to our neighbors and discomfort to ourselves.
-To Kill a Mockingbird
XOXOXOXO

a series of events

September 19, 2014

Happy Friday!
For Friday Five at the Farm this week,
A story in five parts.

1. I planned to run early this morning in the cooler temperatures, but we woke up to the most glorious sea of dense gray fog all over the farm. It was thick and cottony, wet on our skin. And visibility was maybe twenty feet, so I didn’t want to navigate the rocks and sandy back hills almost blind.

2. Instead of running early I spent some extra time with Chanta. While he munched sweet grain in the barn, I brushed him and untangled his mane. I stroked his legs and brushed him some more. We sang Beatles’ songs to each other and prayed for my girls together. By the end of his bowl of grain he was nearly asleep and I was sweaty and covered in his loose silvery blonde and golden brown hairs.

3. I did some other animal chores and planted a few more small plants then watered everything deeply, taking the opportunity to rinse off some of that horse hair. The herb garden is looking pretty good. It gradually changes shape and color toward the end of summer, and the newness seduces me. As I watered plants there, the sun rose to about halfway past dawn and started to scrub out the fog. So gorgeous. Handsome was home working on his ’68 Camaro which he recently painted satin black. Quite a sight.

4. So then I went for that run I was craving. I was already wearing my trusty running shoes, although they were soaking wet now and covered with not just horse hair but also chicken poop and hay. I found a water bottle, iPod, and earbuds and walked to the back field to start finding my rhythm.

5. At mile 3 1/2 I saw Geoffrey (our playful gray and white barn cat) stalking something in a big burn pile behind the pond. He’d followed me out there but is so easily distracted. His twitching tail had caught the attention of Meh, the baby llama, who was sneaking up on Geoffrey while he sneaked up in whatever was hiding in the burn pile. I laughed, finished my miles, and walked uphill in my squishy, filthy Brooks running shoes to eat breakfast.

The End.
Happy Friday!!

the following photo is unrelated to the story but you might like it anyway…

in which my bellydancing career ended abruptly

August 26, 2014

I haven’t told you guys this yet, but I recently took some belly dancing lessons. It was a fun summertime diversion which I really enjoyed. But now it’s over (the dancing, not summertime, not by a long shot), and I want to share the story with you. If you’re embarrassed to be friends with me after this, that’s cool. I get it.

It started off nice and easy. The lessons were weekly for a month, that’s it. And I paid for them on Living Social where I already had a nice credit balance, so the lessons were practically free. I have always wanted to learn how to dance a “real dance” and this particular discipline has always held a certain allure for me. This can probably be traced back to my childhood fascination with I Dream of Jeannie. Anyway, I showed up for class. I paid close attention. I gave it all I had and even managed to wear a gauzy scarf around my hips. Still, my success was painfully limited.

The class consisted of about a dozen women of varying ages and styles. We all faced an expansive mirrored wall and followed our fearless leader and she guided us through different steps and exercises. The music was rhythmic and peppered with desert magic and mystery, everything I hoped belly dancing music would be. But the magic had limits.

Whenever the class was working toward the right, I was invariably wandering to the left. I was physically incapable of doing pretty things with my hands while managing my feet. And apparently all the beat-box style pulse dancing one does at home while cooking does not necessarily translate to controlled, choreographed sequences. Not the same. Who knew?

And you guys… Shimmying is a lot harder than it looks! When the instructor tried teaching it to us, I could only either stand very still, stuck in the necessary muscular contraction, or shivver like I was imitating a full body freeze. Shivvering is not shimmying, and I was lost.

When the instructor walked hip-circle loops around her right foot in a sultry, fluid motion then invited us to the same, all I could do was sort of skip on one foot, more or less in a circle but really more of a square. Had I added in a little curved-back loopy action like I was trying to gain momentum on a playground swing, it would have been the boot-scootin boogie for sure.

When we did just plain hip circles, standing still and rotating first clockwise then back around, the circles were supposed to be even and precise. The instructor watched me sideways for a while then walked over to gently correct me, saying I was putting just a little too much in the back half of my circle. My knees were straight; that was a nice, clean, non-stripper move. But the hip circles were supposed to be even and symmetrical. Mine were… leaning. Yep, message received ma’am. I have a big butt.

So you get the idea that I was struggling. And that the instructor noticed. Okay.

Remember how I told you this was a Living Social purchase? The deal offered four consecutive lessons to sample then encourages you to commit to three months of progressive lessons as a beginner. You know, get you hooked. Well, I have been to time-share sales pitches before, folks, so this weren’t my first rodeo. As my final class approached I knew a sales pitch was coming and was prepared to gently but firmly decline all offers because of so many reasons. Mostly, shimmying. I actually practiced my decline speech in my head on the way to that last class, while listening to Shakira.

Shakira is excellent belly dancing music, and it mixed up my feelings.

Imagine my surprise, then, when the class ended and our instructor did not approach me with any literature or coin-trimmed scarves or other luring tactics. Nothing. In fact, when I approached her and mentioned saucily that it was my final class (sub-text: don’t you want to convince me to stay?) this is what happened:

She said, “Oh, huh. Is that so.”

“Yep. Last one. All I paid for was four.” I might have even held up four fingers to drive the point home.

“Oh. Well, what did you think? Did you enjoy it?” She was complete elegance in yoga capris and a shredded tank top.

“Oh I did! It was so much fun, I absolutely loved it and I practice at home and everything. Just can’t believe the month went by so fast!” I am hopeless. Never play poker with me.

“Yes, the month is over.” Nodding and smiling politely, “I’m glad you tried it and had fun. We enjoyed having you! Now I guess you can go back to doing…” and at this point she glanced up and down my body, “whatever it is you do.” Just a trace of pity. But elegant pity, you know?

I was nonplussed. This was not even close to how I imagined things going down between us. I mean my speech declining the up-sell! What follows is something I am not proud of.

“What… what… whatever it is I do? I’M A RUNNER, BITCHES!” Then I balled up my fists, thrust my skinny, sunburned arms into the air and let out a whooping, high-pitched scream like what you might hear on Xena Princess Warrior. “AAIII YAI YAI YAI YAAAIII!!!” And I ran out of the studio, a feral cat released. I just abandoned my purse, my phone, my Jeep keys, everything, and ran barefoot (because belly dancing is a barefoot endeavor) all of the seven and a half miles home to the farm.

By the time I reached our front gate, the sun was setting and I regretted leaving my phone there, because now how could I log my miles? Runner problems.

hula hooping at the medieval fair... close enough — hula hooping at the medieval fair… close enough

I should impress on you that the woman teaching our classes was not only elegant; she was also very sweet and a consummate professional. I am totally kidding about how we parted ways. But part ways we did, as there are other adventures on my horizon.

In the mean time, back to running.

The End.

how to fall in love with running in 5 steps

August 18, 2014

If you’ve visited the Lazy W much this past year, then you know I love running. I fell in love with it almost two years ago and have been fumbling through my own mile-addicted adventure ever since.

Whether I am qualified to give you running advice is questionable, but without a doubt I can tell you all about how to get it under your skin. How to open your body and soul to the possibilities.

How to fall in love with one of the most beneficial things that you all by yourself can do in this life.

My very good friend & book club buddy Steph snapped this photo of me around mile 22 of last year's OKCM Marathon. I will never forget this feeling! xoxo — My very good friend & book club buddy Steph snapped this photo of me around mile 22 of last year’s OKCM Marathon. I will never forget the feelings from this day! xoxo

#1. Give it a fair shake. Brand new to running and already convinced you hate it? Please wait. Do not sell yourself short by struggling through one awkward, wheezing mile then declare running just isn’t for you. You know the millions of physical and mental benefits, right? Why did you start? Don’t you believe people who say that running makes them happier overall? Just get past the weird beginnings, trust me. My beginnings were extremely weird. And still I often need three miles to warm up for a five mile run. Even well seasoned ultra runners are known to say “Never judge a run by the first three miles.”
Three miles. That is about half an hour of warm up, and it is SO worth it! If you are even a little bit interested in this amazing new chapter of life, then please give it a fair shake. Nibble at it. Seek support. Try different methods. Get the long view and grow a funny bone, because you will make yourself laugh. A lot.

#2. Find your own running buttons and push them. Everyone is different. Running may seem painfully routine looking in from the outside, but there is a deep inner world there, a vast ocean of thought and feeling that you get to explore every time you lace up. (Maybe that’s why so many writers are also runners. Huh.)
And there are a hundred thousand variations for runners to discover. Do you listen to music, or keep the rhythmic silence? Run alone or with friends? Trail, track, or treadmill? Cold weather or hot? Morning, noon, or night? Try lots of different combinations until you discover your sweet spot, then max out! Enjoy yourself. Then shake things up again, enjoy some variety. Then go back to your reliable routines again. My favorite running blogger The Monican has lots of fun ideas to offer but always goes back to this smart mantra: You do YOU. Amen.

#3. Stock up on inspiration for a rainy day. Even deep into your own running obsession, far past your first big runner’s high, you’ll have dry days. You’ll have mornings when you had planned to run but WOW something else sounds better. Or you question the benefits. Or you just need new ideas. Be ready for those days by making little collections of motivational words, images, and info-graphics.
Ever heard of Pinterest? I have like three boards that revolve around fitness, but one in particular serves running alone. I refer to it when I can feel my feet dragging or my thoughts going negative. Maybe you’d rather have an old-fashioned vision board, complete with cork and push pins and glossy magazine pages! Know thyself and motivate thyself.

http://www.pinterest.com/greengoose/running-obsession/ — Do you have a cool running board I might want to follow?

#4. Set a fun goal (or two or three) and make them known to loved ones. This is pretty standard advice offered for all kinds of new endeavors, and it almost sounds cheesy, but cheesy stuff tends to work! My advice for new runners who want to build enthusiasm? Look for a snazzy 5-K or a half marathon and register. Pay the money so you’re committed. Then on your calendar count the necessary training weeks backwards from the event date and pencil in your workout plan for every week. (Hal Higdon is a great source of advice for training.) And record what miles you run against that plan. Get consistent. Blab about it to your friends to the point they are mildly annoyed.
Last March I was close to burnout for different reasons, and had I not made my goal of “running my first full marathon at forty” so public to people who really love me, I might have backed out. I am SO GLAD I didn’t back out. What a sad thing that would have been. Concrete goals made public are effective!

#5. Always go one more. One more mile, one more song, one more lap, one more day… However you’re measuring your frustration at any given point, try going just one more past where you want to. Remember that running is largely in your head, maybe more so than in your body; so take every opportunity to strengthen your mind. It will improve your life in so many ways. Do more than what you think you can do. Over and over, bit by bit, you will be amazed.

So that’s my advice if you are thinking of a wonderful new running obsession but need the final nudge. If you do these five things: Give it a fair shake, find a groove, stay inspired, set goals publicly, and go beyond your own expectations… I am pretty sure you will fall in love with running. And running will always love you back.

And then we can grab some miles together sometime!

Now you tell me. If you’re a runner already, what advice would you give a newbie? If you need some nudging, what’s on your mind? What’s holding you back from starting, or what’s slowing you down?

Run while you can.
XOXOXOXO

fun with a focus group (okc memorial marathon)

July 23, 2014

Yesterday afternoon I visited the Oklahoma City National Memorial again, this time to meet with a focus group all about the annual race events. A local consulting firm, together with the Memorial folks, had extended an open invitation for runners to come share their thoughts about our experiences overall, and I was thrilled to participate. About thirty people showed up for our afternoon meeting, and I suspect as many were there for the evening session.

I am so glad I went. Not only was it fun to relive the memories from April one more time, but I also got to meet lots more happy Oklahomans and hear perspectives from other (more experienced) running vets. You might say this made me want to travel to more destination races. Chicago, Kansas City, Austin… OKC may be ranked as among the top 12 globally, and I am so proud of that; but it has whetted my appetite to see what other events are out there. Somebody warn Handsome.

Also, they had snacks. I ate two giant chocolate-chip cookies. A rumor was floating around the room that macadamia nut cookies were available, but I could never find them. This haunted me for hours afterward.

I met Mollie Coats, Memorial Marathon Coordinator, who is as warm and friendly as any one person has the right to be. She went far out of her way to thank us all for participating. I also got to hear Kari Watkins, Executive Director of the Memorial, give a quick speech. She mostly addressed the gravity issues of planning such a mammoth event in a large city, those things which are largely out of anyone’s control and require lots of working around and teeth gritting. For example, clearing and protecting the streets for so many square miles and for so many hours. And… Oklahoma weather. Everyone laughed because no one will ever forget the sketchy thunderstorm morning and two-hour race delay of 2014.

The Devon tower in downtown OKC, surrounded thickly by black, churning clouds. Friends, this is exactly how my dream looked, minus one broad band of lightning.

One issue on which Kari touched was the ongoing Oklahoma City renaissance and how it impacts the race. It’s a mixed blessing, of course. As our beautiful city continues to grow and expand, deepening in local culture everywhere you look, the traffic thickens exponentially. The challenges of finding ideal race routes and keeping them both safe and cooperative with the rest of life are very real. So my hat is off to the people in charge of this. I can barely decide whether growing seed potatoes is economically viable, or shouldn’t I just stick with the 10-pound bag of Russets from Crest?

We were seated in assigned places among several round tables. After some fun introductions, the lovely ladies in charge of the study, Sarah and Amber, asked us to designate a scribe and speaker for our smaller groups. Then they guided us through a series of thought-provoking questions about specific aspects of the Memorial event, starting with the website and online registration and continuing through the Expo and all the way up to our experiences at the finish line.

I was so happy to get to voice the specific things I loved about the experience overall. The balloons, the encouraging emails, the feelings of suspense, the rhythm of the race especially after Lake Hefner, the Voice of The Thunder sounding off announcements, all of it. My friends and family hear from me about running ALL. THE. TIME. but yesterday I got to express how much certain little things meant to me last April, and every other runner in the room got it.

Behold the power of decorations! I am not even kidding. These balloons take my breath away. They make me emotional. Please always have them, Expo folks! Thank you.

We didn’t all agree on everything (I personally have no need of free beer, for example, LOL, but why not?) but that part of the process was fun too. I was surprised that other races are apparently conducted quite differently. For example, one change I hope the Memorial Marathon folks take into serious consideration is a wave start. That would be amazing. Even with potential weather complications (Oklahoma will always be at particular risk for this) it sounds like this would be a great improvement.

Another improvement that seemed popular around the room, particularly with the women, was shopping discounts at the Expo for registered runners. And free massages, taping, and other interactive features.

I suggested that they ask the Wonderbread bakery to NOT bake bread that morning since we run right past it and it made me sad this year to smell bread and yeast, but some runners actually liked it. My guess is that Wonderbread does not care if they make me sad for five minutes once a year.

Oh, well.

The ninety scheduled minutes flew right by in a chattery, productive whirlwind. I do wish we had more time. I am so thankful for the invitation to give feedback and really thankful for the appreciation they showed us for attending. (Am I allowed to say what the parting gift was? It was pretty awesome.)

My favorite question all afternoon was actually offered to me by Sarah at the beginning. I had arrived early and for several minutes was the only participant in the room. She asked which race I ran and would I do it again next year, then why? Why do you run this particular race, and why will you do it again? Well, I choked back tears and opened my mouth to answer, then the double doors to the conference room parted with a whoosh of air conditioned freshness, and a flood of smiling people walked in. Our conversation was gently put on pause, and she asked me to please email my answer. They want to understand people’s different motivations.

I’ll email her. And I’ll tell you guys too, because I love you. I so appreciate you stopping to read and follow the adventures here.

Why This Race? Why the Full?

I run the Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon because this is my home town.
Because what happened here in 1995 needs to be remembered.
Because we have the opportunity to maintain beautiful traditions and memories
instead of closing up around wounds from an evil day.
This event is an outward expression of Oklahoma’s resilience and loving energy.

I run to honor the victims and also
to pay ongoing respect to the first responders,
especially my parents-in-law, Harvey and Judy Wreath.

I choose to run the full marathon because it presents the best challenge.
Because for 26.2 miles you see more of this beautiful city
and feel more of the outpouring of love from its citizens.

On the full marathon course you feel more emptiness as you go,
depleting your mind and body in new ways.
Then you are washed in more joy and relief
than you ever dreamed possible.

Just like life.

I run the full marathon because it touches something primal inside me,
and I want to feel that over and over again for as long as I live.

The challenge of the course reminds me of how the first responders
had to do far more than they thought was possible.
They gave of themselves beyond what they thought they could.
They stayed. They discovered new depths within themselves.
They finished.

Four or five hours of fun for me is nothing compared to three horrific weeks.
They worked for three weeks to recover, protect, honor, rescue, identify,
and love in every possible way every person who was affected.
Running this fun, rewarding, exhilarating race is the very least
and the most selfish thing I can do to honor Harvey, Judy,
and all the hundreds of first responders.

xoxoxoxo

So thank you, Kari, Mollie, Amber, and Sarah. Thank you to all the people who organized this focus group fun and especially to everyone who makes the Memorial events so incredible. Next spring will mark the twentieth anniversary of the Murrah Building Bombing, and I know you all are intent on making the commemoration extra special. Thank you ahead of time. I wish you all the best and cannot wait to register!

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