Marathon and ½ Marathon

We Finished!

We did it. After months of training, my husband finished his first marathon, and I ran my first half marathon. Last weekend ten of our friends and we headed to San Antonio to put our bodies through a painful experience. It was fun and miserable at the same time.

Overall, I say the weekend was fun. The expo had a lot of tasty samples of energy bars, protein drinks, and even beer. Our group went to see the movie 2012, and we had dinner at the Magic Time Machine, a restaurant in which the wait staff dresses as fictional characters and harasses their customers. (Our waitress was Lara Croft.) We woke up ridiculously early, and joined the excitement at the starting line.

For me, things were dandy until about mile eight.  The last 5.1 miles were not as fun as I sucked in oxygen and continued to dodge around the slow people in front of me. Seriously, people who are not very fast should not start at the front of the group. The last two miles were the worst because I kept thinking the finish line was just around the corner … but no.

I finished the 13.1 miles eventually, though – in 2 hours, 3 minutes, and 56 seconds to be exact. I averaged a 9:28 mile, which is about  what I expected. After I rested a bit and talked about the course with my fellow finishing friends, I got to scream for Jason as he neared the finish line or the full marathon. I’m very proud of him.

We had different feelings after the race, though. I was glad I did it, but I would be fine to never run in an event again. He, on the other hand, is now hooked and was immediately talking about us running the Austin marathon in February. Oh goodness, what have I gotten myself into?

Have any of you gotten hooked on something like this … or have a spouse that gets excited easily? I’m wondering if this is a phase or if I should resign to the fact and buy him a subscription to Runners World. Training for marathons takes a lot of time, and if I want to share more time with him, it looks like I’ll have to keep up with his running addiction. Well, at least this is a positive, healthy hobby. No one can say that either of us gained weight after getting married!

Weekend Well Earned

Last Monday I started a new job. I’m the counselors’ secretary at a middle school that sits just above the border of Texas and Mexico. I also help teach the ballroom dance class. This job doesn’t take advantage of my gifts or education and experience, but I prefer it to my last job as a Dennys waitress, and I’ve become less picky after months of unsuccessful job hunts.

There were 2 ½ weeks between the last day of my old job and my first day as a clerk. In that time, I worked on some projects at home, did lots of cooking, and took care of the house. I’ve always been an ambitious young person, and I want to accomplish meaningful things in life, but I realized I’d be quite content to never hold a full-time job and instead stay home. At least, I’d rather stay home than work a job my heart isn’t into.  I usually keep busy, and doing all the laundry, cooking, and cleaning for a family – even a family of two – takes considerable time. Maybe I discovered I’d best like to work from home – where I can wear pajamas all morning and sit in privacy at my own desk and get snacks from the fridge whenever I want. Unfortunately I haven’t found job I can personally do (or want to do) from home and make a decent salary. So I’ve looked elsewhere for a place to earn money to pay off my student loans. Sadly, an unknown white girl with a degree in religion and novice Spanish skills isn’t a commodity in this border town. So here I am – filing papers, making copies, and babysitting kids in the lunchroom.

Waiting for the weekend

During my break between jobs, I would look forward to the weekend because Jason would be home. But after starting this job, my longing for the weekend increased. Though my task load didn’t increase from the projects I was doing at home to the projects I did at the school, I felt like I deserved a break more. After a forty-hour workweek, waking up at 5:30 a.m. each morning, I earned the weekend. Like I said, the workload is not challenging, but perhaps I felt I earned the break because I spent each weekday taking orders from others and doing tasks I didn’t want to do. Because I put up with the boring work, spending my precious time at others’ beck and call, it was my right to have two days of freedom.

Of course, Monday came too soon and Sunday night was slightly miserable as I thought about the full five days I’d have to endure before the next weekend. At times like that, I tell myself to be grateful to have a job at all and thank God for the enjoyable parts of my life and ask Him to teach me through the rest.

First Houseguests

We're number one!

This past weekend my parents became our very first overnight houseguests. Our second bedroom was finally put to use in the way we originally intended: to host friends and family. It’s taken a while for people to visit because all of our loved ones live five minutes away or five + hours away. The former don’t need to spend the night at our apartment, and the latter don’t get much of a chance to make the trip.

My mom and dad, though, took Friday off work and flew down in their airplane, and I was excited to show them Brownsville for the first time. The weekend was relaxing; my parents don’t require much entertaining. A couple movies on our home projector, a Frisbee game on the South Padre beach, and lots of food kept us happy.

I’ve seen my parents a few times since getting married, but this was the first time that they have come to my home and I was the lady of the house. Our relationship is still comfortable, but it’s a little different. My dad mentioned he has a hard time realizing I’m married, but he had to have seen a change.  I was the one deciding what was for dinner, Jason and I were the ones driving them around town, and at night I retired to a bedroom I share with my husband. Times have changed.

When I go to my parents’ home, it is reminiscent of my high school days, and I feel younger. But I’m not a little girl anymore. During my parents’ visit, I was fully in the present. I was a loving daughter, but also a dedicated wife.