We’re still waiting to hear about Patrick's school placement.
There is a spot.
He is first in line to get that spot.
But metro has yet to call and offer it to us. Today, I’ve been told, is the last day they can do so.
So we’re waiting. Fingers, toes, eyeballs, and sphincters crossed.
And a small can of Whoop Ass dangling from my key chain just in case.
In the meantime, how about a running update to clear the room?
I bought the Garmin 305, just like you told me to, you clever little lambs. And while the 305 is a bit of a beast size-wise, it’s also easy to read, unlike the smaller, sexier Garmins of late. I can actually read my pace, calories, distance, elapsed time, and the time of day. Imagine that. A watch that tells time*.
*When I was training for the marathon, I asked one of the pacers what time it was, and she said, “Huh. I don’t know how to do that on this watch.”
How’s that ice cream Sundae taste?
Huh. I don’t know how to do that on this dessert.
Anyhoo, the speed and distance tracking with the Garmin is great, but it’s the heart rate monitor that has been somewhat of a revelation to me. My resting heart rate, when I'm not actively participating in The Great Kindergarten Caper of 2011, is around 60 beats per minute. So you can imagine my surprise when I strapped on the monitor first thing in the morning and my heart rate was 82 beats per minute. LYING DOWN.
Then I went for a run in the 104 degree cool of the evening, and guess what?
THE SUN WANTS YOU TO DIE.
Just walking down the sidewalk, I was experiencing a heart rate of 160 beats per minute. JUST WALKING.
SO YOU CAN IMAGINE WHAT MY HEART IS DOING WHEN I'M GETTING ALL CAPS LOCKY AND SPEED OBSESSED. (!!!!!)
Moral of the story: I am trying to chill out a bit with the running. And inhale more often.
To that end, there was a 5k this past weekend, and rather than being all competitive and pushing myself to beat last year's time, I ran with Larry, using my Garmin to pace him. That's no slam on Larry, by the way. He could kick my ass at running if he were so inclined and can still take me out in a dead on sprint--he simply prefers to direct his energies elsewhere. He'd insisted before the race that he would not exceed a 9 minute mile, but (as I suspected he would), he ended up running a 7:55 and finishing 6th in his age group. To my surprise, I finished second in mine.
Not bad, Prisoner of Love.