Race recap: hotter than hades at the Bird-in-Hand half marathon

September 14, 2014 by vfreile

Rough.

With one word to describe the Bird-in-Hand half marathon, this lone thought keeps topping my list.

It was a warm and muggy morning, with pre-dawn temps well into the 70s. Humidity was 96%. Oof.

An Amish family of runners at the race site

After an insane work week earlier this month, I headed to my hometown to run the rural road race for the second straight year. Lancaster, Pennsylvania is Amish country. Home to many in the Pennsylvania Dutch Amish and Mennonite community. Many in the county’s Amish community love to run and have a growing reputation as strong competitors in running circles. And this annual race is organized by that growing running community.

I drove to PA with my running pal Ray and connected with the lovely Kyle and Christina for our big Saturday morning run – the Bird-in-Hand Half Marathon.

We headed to the race site in rural Lancaster County early Saturday morning amidst the fog and were treated to a stellar sunrise.

Ah, Lancaster

We arrived early so we could all mentally prepare. When Kyle suggested we run intervals together – I immediately agreed. Repeated cycles of five minutes of running and one minute of walking sounded like a brilliant way to tackle this muggy 13.1.

From left: me, Kyle, Christina and Ray

As we prepped to run and lined up at the start, we spotted a few ladies pinning each other’s race bibs on their dresses. That’s right – many of the Amish run in their everyday clothes, including hair coverings. And sneakers.

Let’s race, ladies

Soon enough, it was go time. Kyle and I ran together, and we were thankful to stick to our interval plan. Dozens of people passed us each time we walked those first few miles.

Among them, we repeatedly encountered an Amish man running with his young daughter. We cheered each time we saw them, noting how fantastic their joint venture was.

Seriously, I love this duo.

By mile three, I was drenched. I’m talking soaked to the bone. Kyle and I stopped to walk at least twice each mile.

Around the turnaround at mile five, Kyle waved me on. Her legs were heavy, as she’d run a 20-miler just 6 days prior.

I pushed ahead, passing folks as I ran, then watching them pass me by when it was my time to walk.

The next hour was such a challenge. I was overheated. I wanted to stop, but I didn’t. I stuck to Kyle’s plan, even though I was now running solo. I listened to her voice on my head. I didn’t want to let her down by walking too long, or running too slowly .

Running through the corn(fields)

The race itself was a stunning, but hilly course through the cornfields and farmland in Lancaster. Every mile or so, Amish kids manned water and Gatorade stations, and alerted runners to the beverages in four-part harmony.

Amish and Mennonite families cheered us along, many while also doused us with water from garden hoses and sprinklers.

With the heat and humidity, race organizers added about a dozen huge coolers filled with ice along the route. Each time I spotted one, I grabbed a handful, ate a few cubes and shoved ice down my bra.

I sounded like a maraca as I ran on.

As I ran on I saw lots of horses, cows and goats. There were loads of farms, fields and even a half-dozen one-room schoolhouses and horse-drawn buggies galore.

Around mile 8, I hoofed it up a hill and spotted something out of the ordinary.

um, what?

Am I hallucinating, or is that a pair of camels?

Turns out, I said that out loud as another runner answered, informing me that yes indeedy, camels were hanging out along the side of the road.

I spent the next few miles wondering why. I learned more the following week when I found an article about a camel dairy farm in the Lancaster paper’s news archives. Did you know you can milk them? Yup. But apparently they are not incredibly willing participants.

By this point of the race, I was passing people left and right. Please don’t get me wrong. I certainly wasn’t speeding. My running time was just a 9-minute-mile pace. I’d just started walking far earlier than most, so I had more in my reserves as we all pressed on. (Thank you Kyle!!)

We cut through a farm on a gravel toad, where I tripped over a cornstalk and nearly landed flat on my face. Somehow I caught myself and moved on. It was along this stretch that cups of Rita’s Water Ice were distributed. So happy! The sugar rush added some pep to my step.

The last miles were tough. I’d been seeing occupied ambulances whiz by and volunteers and medics helping collapsed runners along the course. I was concerned about hydrating properly and making it to the end.

As it turned out, more than 50 of the 1,700 registered runners suffered heat exhaustion. Some even went to the hospital. The high for the day was 91.

I didn’t walk that last mile. I just wanted to finish. When I rounded the final turn onto a grass field and sprinted (eh, as much as I could muster) to the finish, I heard an announcer share finishers ‘ names and hometowns.

I never heard my name, but I couldn’t have cared less. I was done.

I guzzled water and chocolate milk and ate a banana before I tripped over Ray in the field and encountered my mom. A few minutes later, we heard Kyle ‘s name announced as she finished the run.

The hot air balloon launch at the start. This never gets old.

My time was 5 minutes slower than last year, when conditions were far more ideal. But I placed in the top third, compared to last year when I was solidly in the middle.

It wasn’t my best race by far. But I’m so proud of how all three of us fared – each about 15 minutes off our PR paces. But given the conditions, we ran smart and made it through without injuring ourselves. So to us, the race was a success!

We’re done! As Christina said, the race was so brutal we lost a whole human. Not to worry, she finished uninjured!

Despite the sizzling conditions, I love this small-town race and would do it again in a heartbeat. Plus, you get a handcrafted medal made from a horseshoe. I nearly tipped over – again – when an Amish girl placed it around my neck.

These miles marked my first double digit run this month for me toward Scootadoot’s Million Mile Run. And NEWS! This month, starting today (9/15) at midnight, Volvo is matching funds of donations to Alex’s Lemonade Stand for up to $30,000!

The number 30 is significant because every hour, 30 news cases of cancer affect children under the age of 20 worldwide.

That means any donation given during this period will go TWICE AS FAR!

If you wish to donate, check out our team page – We’ve raised $800 for pediatric cancer halfway through September!

Have you run a race in less-than-ideal conditions? How did you cope? Did you ever not finish due to overheating? Have you heard of this race?

Take me back to Oiselle #birdcamp

September 3, 2014 by vfreile

I spent my big vacation this year with nearly dozens of women I’d never met before.

Sure, I’d chatted with a few fellow campers via social media and text. I’d even had the pleasure of meeting several Oiselle team members at recent races – like the New York City Marathon and Nike Women’s half. And I KNEW one of the ladies – the lovely Jen Bigham!

The first-ever team retreat, dubbed “bird camp” early in the planning process, was held by Oiselle, a small Seattle-based women’s running clothing company founded in 2007. The women who lead and run for the company shared their knowledge, home and dreams with 96 women from across North America.

Oiselle team at the Deschutes Twilight 5K. Pic by Thomas and Velo Photography

We spent five days in Bend, Oregon, which sits at 3,623 feet near the Cascade mountains, about three hours southwest of Portland. Having never spent time in Oregon before, and having never attended an overnight camp as a kid, I had no clue what to expect.

I quickly fell in love with Bend and am already itching to go back.

We ran, (well duh) we hiked, we swam, we chatted, we ate, we drank, we raced, we meditated, we stretched. We experienced so much in such a few days.

Pro athletes Lauren Fleshman, Kate Grace, Stephanie Howe and (via skype) Kara Goucher shared advice, stories and fielded questions. They even hiked and worked out with us, along with the Oiselle’s CEO Sally Bergesen, team manager Kristin Metcalf and camp organizer/all around superwoman Sarah Lesko.

We talked about health, nutrition, training and goal setting. We spoke of our dreams – we admitted our challenges – and we leaned on each other for advice.

Stretching & meditating. Pic by Thomas and Velo Photography

We hiked at nearby Smith Rock State Park and played in the picturesque town of Bend. We ate, we drank, and we floated in tubes on the Deschutes River.

For me, the experiences and the people made the trip.

I was finally able to meet Kelly in person after we’d first chatted online last fall. Hands down, she’s among my favorite people. We ran off, skipping a yoga session one afternoon and swam laps at a nearby outdoor pool.

After the swim

It may not sound like much to others, but I loved our 3,200-meter workout. I hadn’t been in a pool in months and was thrilled to be able to hang in with Kelly for as long as I did. After more than a decade as a competitive swimmer, I loathe having to swim fast. (Been there, done that.) But its a whole different story when I want to do my best.

I’m also so thankful for my roommates Stacey and Suzie. I couldn’t have been with two more supportive, inspirational and fantastic women as you both.

Stacey, me and Suzie – a great trio!

And of course I loved spending time with my fun friends in our carpool van, dubbed the #vanbytheriver

The Oiselle bird, drawn by me

Decorating the van before our roadtrip

The whole gang: Front row (from left): Ashley, Kerry, Steph, Jessica. Back row: Becky, Kelly, me. Pic by Thomas and Velo Photography

I loved racing with such a large team at a smaller 5K race. We were literally about a fifth of the field of the evening 5K. I pushed myself a bit harder than I expected – especially since it was my second run of the day. I loved seen so many blue Oiselle singlets as I ran along the hilly course.

Even better was seeing a slew of ladies cheering one another on as I sprinted to the finish.

Cheering birds! Pic by Kelly Burns Gallagher

Me, Kelly and Stacey at the 5K. Pic by Thomas and Velo Photography

Hiking with new friends at Smith Rock State Park was amazing. I love to hike, though I remain terrified of getting too close to the edge of a mountain and tumbling off a cliff. Smith Rock is stunning and I implore anyone in Bend to check it out.

Stunning Smith Rock

Up we go!

Hiking Misery Ridge Trail at Smith Rock. Pic by Thomas and Velo Photography

Near the summit with Kate

Loved the views (but not the snake!)

Also LOVED relaxing as we floated on tubes on the crystal clear Deschutes River. If I could do that every week, life would be perfect.

With Jill and Kelly in Oiselle Rizzo before tubing

Much of what I loved about the experience was meeting so many incredible women, who find a way to balance work, their relationships, motherhood and running. These women reminded me that it’s good to dream big, and that it is possible to balance it all.

With Lauren at the closing party

At a midweek session, Lauren spoke of goal-setting, and reminded us that it’s ok to let a dream go and focus on reality. But she also stressed the importance of setting meaningful goals – ones that mean something to YOU personally over an obvious goal, like running a best time or a specific distance.

“The best gift you can give yourself is to disregard what other people see as success and name it for yourself,” Lauren said. “You have to set your own definition for success.”

She couldn’t be more right.

Team cheer Pic by Thomas and Velo Photography

Have you ever been to Oregon? A sports team camp (as a kid or an adult?) Where’s your favorite hiking spot? And fellow birds – what was your favorite part of camp? Tell me in the comments!

Back to reality after #birdcamp

August 22, 2014 by vfreile

You may already know I spent last week on the west coast – first in California visiting a few wonderful friends – then in Oregon for Oiselle team camp.

I had planned to create a big, long post for today sharing photos of my adventures, but I ran out of time — so instead you’ll get a few fun pics and a teaser. You’ll get the full post next week – or you can check out my work blog post.

Beachcombing at crystal cove in the OC

Celebrating life with two of my loves – Linz and Kelly

at Mt. Hood with Kelly!

One of my fave pics from #birdcamp, hiking with the pros (Lauren and Kate)

LOTS of birds before a 5k race

Catching up:

You may recall that last week Bec asked me to take on the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge. Welp – I did it Monday with a few colleagues. Click HERE to watch the video:

From left, Neeti, Sarah and I get doused

And speaking of work:

In January – just before my last trip west – I was interviewed on a local murder case for the true crime show Snapped, which airs weekly on the Oxygen channel.

You may recall Rose Chase, an Ontario County woman convicted of killing her husband in 2012, hiding, then dismembering and burning his body and lying about his whereabouts for six months.

Rose Chase at her sentencing in January; Photo by Tina MacIntyre-Yee of the Democrat and Chronicle

Long story short – her story will be on Snapped Sunday night. And I’ll be on it. Check out the promo video HERE:

Tell me about your fave spot on the west coast. Have you done the Ice Bucket Challenge? Do you watch true crime shows like Snapped?

People can be downright nasty

August 6, 2014 by vfreile

Most of you know what I do for a living.

My boss often says: You don’t want Victoria writing about you. It means you – or your loved ones – are having a really bad day.

I cover crime, courts and breaking news for Gannett and the Rochester Democrat and Chronicle.

Monday was rough – two fatal crashes (on the same road, no less), a news conference on the state providing funding for bulletproof vests for police officers, and what appeared to be a drowning in the river.

Tuesday was even nuttier with more on the river search and the sentencing of a 22-year-old man who brutally beat his girlfriend to death with objects around her college dorm room, including a coffee mug and a clothing iron. He wept throughout the court appearance and ultimately was sentenced to the max – 25 years to life in prison.

You don’t want to hear the gritty details. Trust me.

While I love what I do, some days can be damn hard.

Working the scene a few years back. Photo by Carlos Ortiz

Sometimes the news hits home. Sometimes it becomes personal. Sometimes you hug the source bawling on your shoulder. Sometimes you realize you are a person first and a reporter second.

I often see my work posted on websites and shared via social media. That I love. But what’s grown increasingly disheartening is how people commenting on the work can be downright nasty.

On a piece about the arrest of a single working mom who left her 4-year-old child in the car while she was working, I see people ridiculing her, calling her names and questioning her ability to care for herself, let alone her son.

Regarding an article about a fatal crash involving a wrong-way driver, people badmouth the motorist, the intersection then turn on one another.

And Tuesday’s sentencing? Let’s just say comments like “rot in jail,” “where’s the firing squad” and suggestions for someone to stab him with a sharpened toothbrush in prison are among the kinder ones.

While I love so much about social media, such as its ability to connect people of common interest, it seems to have also made it increasingly acceptable – not to mention easy – to publicize and amplify any gripe with a business. Many people post a vicious complaint, even berate a company online, to ensure a response rather than take the time to speak with an employee, go to a store or make a phone call.

I’m wondering – where’s our compassion? When did it become acceptable to ridicule others in a public forum? When did it become acceptable to throw a public tantrum to get our way? Is this degrading discourse a bigger sign of what’s to come? Is this the fault of online communities and social media?

I certainly hope not. Whenever I want to respond to nasty comments, to reply and ultimately feed into the negativity, I type my response and promptly delete it.

What do you think of people’s insta-reactions on news articles, some blogs and other newsworthy items online? Do you filter yourself when posting?

Side note: I have a work-related Facebook page. If you wish to see more of what I cover or join the conversation, I’m “Victoria Freile” on Facebook.

Road tested: PRO Compression socks

July 30, 2014 by vfreile

Anyone who follows the scoot chicks knows we love to run — and we love to look and feel good when we run.

Last year, I came across a coupon code for PRO Compression socks and decided to give them a whirl. It was love at first wear.

Styling with pals Brandi and Sean after the 2013 Broad Street Run

Now I use them regularly – for long runs, to recover after long runs even when at the office, a party or doing yardwork.

PRO Compression is a California-based company makes socks for endurance athletes, to be used before, during or after exercise such as running or golf. The idea is for enhanced blood flow in your lower extremities. And THAT feels fantastic!

Racing in my purple PRO Compression socks in the spring

The company offers four running styles – Marathon (my fave), PC Racer, PR Runner and Trainer Low – in a variety of colors. For folks who prefer calf sleeves or love arm sleeves, PRO Compression has those too!

And – this is a big things for me – the socks are made in the USA!

Thanks to a partnership with Fit Approach, I had the chance to test run and review a pair of marathon socks. I already knew I loved them – hi, I have six pairs and wear them regularly. But I jumped at the chance to test run a brand new pair and share my thoughts with you all.

Meet my newest pair of PRO Compression socks – and they are white!

I’ve worn this pair a few times now – mostly on long runs as I’m ramping up my training for my fall marathon. Like my other pairs, they look and feel great. While running, my legs don’t feel strained when I wear them, which makes for a far more comfortable long distance run.

And look! My legs weren’t tired at the end of this hill 8-miler last week, in part because of the socks. So I sped up at the end of the run. Success!

I also wear the socks for recovery, which means I lounge around the house – or spa (riiiiight) with them on. I’ve worn them to work under my pants and to the store, with shorts, because I totally rock that look.

These compression socks promote circulation in your legs by pushing fluid up from your feet toward your knees. In other words, the sock helps reduce swelling and inflammation while also providing support to muscles and tendons.

Other features I love about these socks – there’s arch support with compression, a wide cuff at the top to make sure my calf fits in, they’re moisture-wicking (so, so important) and I’ve never had blisters from wearing them.

If you’ve not checked out PRO Compression socks or sleeves I have a discount code for you – “PINK” Will save your 40% on your entire purchase. That’s a sweet deal!

Want to #KeepItTight with @PROCompression! Use code PINK for 40% OFF your entire purchase http://t.co/KcxHdtL8eJ @fitapproach #sweatpink

— Victoria Freile (@vfreile) July 30, 2014

Have your tried compression socks or sleeves? What do you think of them? What’s your go-to brand?

I was provided one free pair of marathon socks by PRO Compression so I could use and review them. My opinions and words are entirely my own.

Recipe Box: Watermelon sangria

July 18, 2014 by vfreile

Earlier this month my mama-in-law introduced me to a light, tasty adult summer drink – watermelon sangria!

We made this adult beverage at a family party and it was quite the hit. We’re a family of foodies, so know high standards were met, folks!

So since it’s my sister’s birthday today – and she loves all sorts of sangria – I thought I’d share this gift with everyone! And Happy Birthday Sissy!

Without further adieu, here’s what you’ll need to create my new favorite drink of champions:

– 12-14 cups of cubed watermelon, divided

– 1 (750ML) bottle of dry white wine

– 1 cup vodka

– 1/2 cup triple sec

– 1/2 cup simple syrup (sugar and water mixture)

– 1 medium lime, chopped and quartered

– 2 oranges, cut into thin sliced

– 1 cup (or so) of fresh blueberries

Got everything together? Great. Now start with the watermelon. I’d seriously chopped up 3 within the 24 hour span before making this so I was verging on expert, I like to think.

1. Place 9 cups of watermelon cubes in a blender; blend on high until very smooth. It’s incredibly wise not to do it all at once, but in parts, say 3 cups at a time. Otherwise your blender might get overwhelmed and quit.

2. Strain juice through a mesh strainer into a large pitcher. We used a huge thermos instead of a pitcher. We also used a spoon to help push the blended watermelon through the strainer.

3. Pour the wine, vodka, triple sec and simple syrup into the pitcher. Stir to combine. We used generous amounts of the alcohol.

4. Mix the remaining 3 cups of watermelon cubes (I made them really small), the lime and orange sections and blueberries into the sangria. Stir.

5. Chill for 4 hours before serving. I skipped this last step and just added ice. You could go crazy and do both.

Drink and enjoy! You will soon become the hit of the party.

What’s your go-to summer drink? Do you ever add fruit to your adult beverage?

Good bye, sweet girl

July 11, 2014 by vfreile

One month ago, my husband and I unexpectedly lost our 13-year-old cat to cancer.

One of my fave pics of our girl, taken in 2010 by the talented Jen Rynda

Her departure was sudden, swift and left a huge hole in our lives.

Sure, we have another cat, one who came to live with us earlier this year. And we love her, but she’s not our old cat, let’s call her Murr.

For the first two weeks, anytime a friend or relative offered condolences or a hug, I dissolved into tears. My face was constantly tear-stained and the skin under my eyes became so raw it peeled. Every one meant well as they offered love and support. To all of you, THANK YOU. I cannot begin to tell you how much your kind words and support and notes meant to my husband and me.

Murr was with me through two jobs, two cities. We were single girls together in Ithaca, NY and were homebodies together in Rochester, NY.

Little Murr, circa 2003, explores our old apartment.

I met our Ithacat in the newsroom of my last paper, The Ithaca Journal, where I spent three years as a suburban reporter. Each week, the local SPCA brought in a pet to be photographed and featured in the paper. I regularly squealed when I saw the animals. We fell in love straight away. By the time her photo ran in the paper, she was already exploring my then-apartment.

She lived with me well before I started dating my now-husband. (and she instantly preferred him to me once he entered the picture. Humph.) He taught her to drink straight from the faucet and trained her to let him wear her as a “coonskin cat hat” on his head.

She was an incredible mouse-hunter, even dumped a bloody carcass on my chest while I slept one night. She purred proudly nearby until I discovered her “gift.”

She was tiny, sweet, silly, and beautiful. And she knew it.

Cat kisses

We constantly told incredibly lame cat jokes and penned silly cat songs about our girl. Her name morphed into our pet name for one another. And trust me, that got confusing!

As Murr grew older, she became far more interested in snuggling. She slept with me every night and snuggled with us both every chance she got, particularly in the winter months, as she grew chilly.

She also loved to sleep on my hubs as he napped or worked.

These two were peas in a pod

In her last months, Murr had started pooping outside the litter box around the house. We thought she was mad about the new furbaby and that the landmines were payback.

Nope.

Turned out she was sick. Really sick.

One month ago, she threw up repeatedly around the house. She was extra snuggly. She had grown smaller. She was clearly weak. She had just started coming downstairs again (she had banished herself to our second floor months earlier when the new cat came to live with us).

Watching a bug on the ceiling in her last few days

We called the vet. Hubs took her in on June 13, after I went to work.

She never came home.

Hubs called me, his voice wavering, and told me the news. I spoke with the vet, who explained the prognosis. She was in a lot of pain and had only weeks left. We made the excruciating decision to put her to sleep.

My brave husband was with her in her final minutes and said she went peacefully. I bawled in the bathroom at work. Later, we bawled together at home and told stories about her.

New cat snuggled up to me that night, she knew I needed extra love.

I wanted to write this sooner, but couldn’t do it. I miss her. A lot. I’m crying as I type and I repeatedly remind myself that she’s no longer suffering, and in a better place.

She loved us as much as we loved her. And she will always be with us.

Good bye, sweet girl.

My parting shot the day she died

Have you lost a cherished furbaby? Please share a memory of your pet with me.

Road Tested: Cheribundi

July 8, 2014 by vfreile

I’m all over fruit juices from upstate New York farms.

Flavored apple juice from Red Jacket Orchards in Geneva, Ontario County – I buy it every time I see it.

Freshly-squeezed Wegmans orange juice? Can’t get enough of it.

So when Cheribundi approached me about trying a sample of the tart cherry juice, I was all over it.

I love cherries, therefore I would love cherry juice, I thought. And I was right.

The juice is tart but refreshing, and the Geneva, New York-based growers boast there are 50 freshly-picked cherries in each bottle.

Lately, I’ve been hearing all about “superfoods,” which are foods supposedly beneficial to your health – like kale, broccoli, berries and lentils. Cherries, of course, are among them.

Cheribundi calls their cherries a “superfruit” since each is packed with phytonutrients, melatonin and vitamins including vitamin A, potassium, iron and calcium.

The original tart cherry juice (my favorite) is 90% pressed tart cherries and 10% apple juice, which sweetens the drink instead of sugar. Yep, that’s no added water or sugar.

Cheribundi teamed with food scientists at Cornell University (ahh, Ithaca, my old home) and researched the benefits of tart cherries, and also created a gentle juicing process to maintain cherries’ levels of melatonin, vitamins, nutrients and other antioxidants.

Rather than take part in Cheribundi’s 7-day challenge, I decided to test the juice each time I returned from what I deemed my worst recent runs, hoping the juice would work its magic powers.

Presto. Each time I felt better. (Not to mention, my hubby was entertained as I repeatedly tried to squeeze every last drop from the bottle).

And there are several types of juices, teas and even smoothies.

The juice is meant to support restful sleep, promote a healthy inflammation response and is deemed “the Ultimate Antioxidant.”

Personally, I love the benefits, but I drink it because its natural, local and darn tasty. A win-win-win!

Plus, I love that the Cherry People are headed up by a man named Pear. (Steve Pear, CEO). Little things just make me smile.

Have you ever had cherry juice? Do you love all things tart and tasty? Have you been to the Finger Lakes, were farmers grow the cherries that becomes Cheribundi juice?

Cheribundi provided the cherry juice for me to taste and review. Opinions and (attempts at) wit are entirely my own.

7 reasons I shouldn’t have reached my 10th birthday

June 25, 2014 by vfreile

I was am a klutz. I own it.

I fall down the stairs, ricochet off walls and trip over air regularly. (Just ask my boss, husband or running pals.)

As summer officially started this year, I found my mind wandering back to how I spent my summers as a kid in central Pennsylvania. I was what you’d affectionately call “a spirited pool rat.” As I look back, I recall several “near disasters,” most of which took place in the summer months thanks to my impulsive personality.

So today, dear friends, I shall share with you my top 7 close calls. And let me say, this list in no way suggests poor parenting by Mom and Dad. It’s all thanks to my own curiosity and/or stupidity.

I fell from a moving car. Truth. I was 3 or 4 at the time and my dad was driving my sister and me to the pool when the incident occurred. Sissy and I shared the front seat of my dad’s Thunderbird. I was on the outside. Seat belts? We didn’t use them back then. I found myself wondering about the locked car door. I knew if it was locked it wouldn’t open from the outside and when unlocked, would open no matter what. But would the locked door open from the inside? I wondered. In retrospect. I should not have tested this theory when the car was still moving. I clicked the lock into place and pulled the handle. I tumbled onto the pavement and rolled onto a nearby lawn. The car screeched to a halt, my dad scooped me up and took me home. Aside from nasty road rash all over my body and screaming bloody murder when my mother applied the medicine, I was fine. More than anything I was peeved that I wasn’t allowed to go to the pool that day.

In the pool, where I loved to be

Stabbed with a dart. I was 9 when Sissy and I bought a dartboard at a garage sale. We couldn’t wait to use it, but mom kyboshed hanging it on the wall, even in our messy basement. She didn’t want holes in the walls, apparently because of our wretched aim. Our solution was not brilliant. We took turns holding the board while the other whizzed sharp darts at the target. Neither of us had great aim, but a few turns in, one dart reached its mark – in my upper left leg. Blood started spurting. I still have a scar. And I no longer play darts.

Head first into the shallow end. I absolutely knew better. But alas, no one was around to stop me when I dove into the two-foot section at our pool club when I was 8. I was new to swim team that summer and I knew the older kids started their long course practice from the shallow end. I wanted to be just like them, so I dove into the packed pool and landed on my head. I actually saw stars raining from the sky and thank God that I didn’t actually hurt myself. No one noticed, by the way, not even a lifeguard posted nearby.

Climbing the roof. This activity drove my mother nuts. She repeatedly told Sissy and me to stay off the roof of our house, but we rarely listened. Every chance we got, Sissy and I would crawl out my bedroom window and onto the roof. I realize now, had we fallen off the top of the back roof, we’d have fallen 3 stories. I slipped on the shingles nearly every trek, but never slid off the side of the house, thank goodness. A family friend jumped from the second-story one summer and hurt his arm. Mom kept a much tighter leash on us after that.

Underwater at a water park. I never admitted this story to, well, anyone, because I was so embarrassed it happened. On a family outing to a water park, I headed into the park’s huge wave pool. I was a strong swimmer, but somehow got caught in the underwater current and stuck in a cycle with the wave. I couldn’t get above water for air for what felt like minutes. (I’m sure it wasn’t that long, but it was far longer than I was comfortable with.) I panicked, underwater. I remember some kind adult grabbing the back of my swimsuit and yanking me up. I avoided waves pools for years after that. Once I finally ventured back in, I always stopped once the water reached chest high.

Reckless sledding. As the lone girl in most of my childhood playgroups, I became a bit of a tomboy. I often would try to keep up with the guys, even when I knew I couldn’t. One winter, we decided it was a brilliant idea to sled down a steep hill – and over a ravine at the bottom. I never made it to the ravine, as my sledding skills were weak. My friend landed in the ravine, injuring himself slightly. His neighbor, however, didn’t fare well at all. His sled jumped the ravine, but the boy landed on his head. His trip to the hospital ended our fun.

Walking pneumonia. This one was for real, kids. I was 5 and was laid out on the couch for months. I apparently spent time in the hospital and my mother tells me that she thought I was going to die. All I remember from this multi-month illness was a great aunt hovering over me for what felt like months on end, eating ice chips and wanting to play with my sister. Oh, and a celebratory trip to see E.T. in the theater once I was officially “on the mend.”

So there ya go! Tales of my klutziness, stupidity and curiosity that could’ve ended it all well before my 10th birthday. I share this with you, so when your kids act up this summer you know you aren’t alone.

We all make bad choices. We all have had at least one close call. And we all have some pretty spectacular memories as a result. Just be sure to learn from those mistakes.

Were you impulsive like me? Did you flirt with disaster? Tell me all about your brush with death as a child. Don’t have a such a moment? (Good for you!) then please share a favorite summer memory from your childhood.

Running through my head

June 11, 2014 by vfreile

I don’t listen to music when I run, but rather, I let my mind wander.

And oh does it wander…. Today, I thought I’d offer a peek into my mind. Dangerous… I know. But here’s an example of my stream of consciousness while on a run long distance. (abbreviated of course, since you don’t want a 2+ hour ramble!)

Off I go. I always start out too fast. Slow down, woman. You’re going to need that little burst of energy later. Speaking of later, I need to clean the house for our dinner guests tomorrow. I guess I can always do that tomorrow though. I could vacuum today and oh man, I forgot about laundry. I don’t want drying laundry hanging on the rack or in the bathroom when our guests arrive. I mean, they don’t need to see all my clothes. Then again, will they really be looking at my running gear? On the second floor? (ahem, no where near the kitchen) Gosh, I hope not.

Drying gear. Note the Oiselle obsession.

How does it go? Pain is temporary, pride and prejudice. No, that’s not right. That’s definitely not right. But that’s a great book. Heck, I also love the movie. I need to get a new DVD player so I can watch it again. I can’t seem to remember much of anything these days. Good thing my job doesn’t rely on my memory. And thank goodness I have amazing friends and running partners to keep me sane. And yes, I know some of us can’t plan out the correct mileage to save our lives, (raising hand) and others seem to keep inserting hills in the middle of every single run. Eh, that’s OK, I am better for it and need more hill training to improve my base- and my time. I’m thirsty. Why did I drink all of my water already? Good thing I can swing past the library to refill, and refuel, and use the bathroom. But I do need a new water bottle, or I can keep hiding bottles mid-course to pick up later.

Am I done yet? One foot in front of the other. Why have I not finished and why have the new neighbors added that hideous trellis around their lovely wooden deck? The old residents would cry. They were so proud of that deck. I wonder how they are doing out in Utah. Or did they move to Idaho? I know it started with a vowel. How old are their kids now? Gosh I bet they can drive. Oh and a random dog-walker is waving. Hello ma’am, puppy! Did I say that out loud? I think I did. Maybe I didn’t though since neither batted an eye. Ah well. I’m back in my yard and am beyond ready to guzzle some water. 15-miler done!

Moments like this one, and many more, will be starting back up in the next few months as I start to train for marathon number 6, the Philadelphia Marathon! Philly was my first marathon (in 2010 – and this year will be Meri’s FIRST MARATHON – so I’m looking forward to heading back to the City of Brotherly Love for another 26.2.

Today’s stream of consciousness run was brought to you by my tired brain. I really do need a new handheld water bottle or belt though. Can you give me suggestions? I’d love to hear all about what you use.

Scootadoot

fitness, food, friends, fun

Author Archives: vfreile