...and 8 Miles on a Saturday Morning Is Better than Sleeping In

No, really!

My running partners got to hear me burst into song on Boise's Greenbelt Saturday morning. Maybe it was that runner's high I keep hearing about...Nah, probably not. I think it had more to do with the company I had, the sun being out, and knowing that every step has meaning in it.

I wanted to share this:

Every 4 minutes one person is diagnosed with a blood cancer.

Leukemia, lymphoma and myeloma will cause the deaths of an estimated 53,240 people in the United States this year.

Every ten minutes, someone dies from a blood cancer. This statistic represents nearly 146 people each day, or more than six people every hour. Leukemia causes more deaths than any other cancer among children and young adults under the age of 20.

In general, the likelihood of dying from most types of leukemia, lymphoma or myeloma decreased from 1996 to 2005 (the most recent data available).

*Facts and statistics from Leukemia, Lymphoma, Myeloma Facts 2009-2010, June 2009.

I like knowing that the time I spend hoofing around Boise with these amazing people means every year less people die from blood cancer. The shin splints, arch problems, leg cramps and blood sugar issues are pretty minor compared to the reason why we're all out there.

...and a Bad Run Is Better than No Run

...or so I'm trying to tell myself. This morning sucked. Tying my laces took a lot of effort, which should have been a clue.

After the first mile, my blood sugar crashed.

For those of you lucky enough to never have experienced hypoglycemia, it goes like this: your energy reserves evaporate, you start to shake & sweat (always lovely), nausea takes over, all hope is lost and you sometimes pass out.

If you don't faint, you want to punch people.

Now, I probably should've sat down on the curb at that point and called my husband...but I did just tell you about the urge to punch people, right? I knew that he was still in bed and would not hear his phone, which would piss me off, so I just walked on. I even tried to jog a bit. I had Bitch-brain waging a war with Deepok-brain (who was being all New Agey and positive and shit). I drank water and tried not to focus on how my Team in Training shirt was so slick that my hydration belt was moving all over the place. [For you new people, I can get obsessive-compulsive when tired or blood-sugary - everything bugs me.]
It took a lot of effort not to lay down on the pavement and let some Good Samaritan take over, but I made it home.

Two miles have never been so long.

...and Being Yourself Is Better than Working Hard to Please Everyone

BECAUSE IT CAN'T BE DONE!

Okay. I have spent almost forty years trying to make sure everyone else is happy and it's exhausting. I'm too busy and tired to do it anymore. My heavy-duty personal filter probably needs replaced, because it's allowing people to find out too much about me. [I blame Facebook.]

My poor running team never stood a chance.

After a few miles, there's no way I'm editing - I'm too busy trying not to fall, hit my head, or be distracted by any asymmetry in my shoes (or by the way my hydration belt is sitting on my hips or how my zipper pull is dangling or whether my socks are where they need to be, etc...I can get very compulsive when I'm tired). Sweat apparently makes the holes of my filter much bigger. Anyone running with me is certainly getting the "Real GiGi." My apologies to Jayme, Macey, Tricia, and Debbie. [Fawn already knew the real me. She's seen me after mojitos.]

Usually, I am pretty good about keeping the F-word in my head and away from my mouth. Not lately, though, unless you're under the age of ten and over the age of seventy (and that's been a struggle, lemme tell ya). Sorry. I'm the daughter of a trucker, and I've worked with too many engineers and hairstylists to go back now.

The sarcasm used to be reserved for a select few, but it's beginning to seep out into my everyday conversations. Sorry to those of you who thought I was Pollyanna. [Did any of you really think that?]

What's been such a surprise is that people still seem to like me. [Huh...]