Who's Bad?

I went on a long run today.  It was my first long run since I started training for this stupid half marathon I'm doing in January at Disney.  I am training to make sure I don't embarrass myself and also so I can be healthy and tour the parks and have fun with my kids while we're there.  I played a lot of sports growing up, track, volleyball, basketball and was even on the track team.  But to me, running distance was anything over 400 meters.

The sport which is most memorable for me is Spring Track & Field.  I lived in Upstate NY so the "Spring" part was a bit of a misnomer.  Many times there was too much snow on the track and we'd have to run in the high school halls (groan).  My events in Spring Track & Field were sprints (100, 200, 400 relay, occasional 100 hurdle, 200 hurdle).  Our team was so small in comparison to others that we had to run the maximum number of events at every meet--even if you weren't prepared.  We needed points and coming in 3rd gets you points.

Today when I went on my run I set up my ipod for some tunes.  I usually just select a genre and have it shuffle.  But today I felt like paying tribute to Michael and Thriller.  When Beat It came on I started to smile and recall my high school track meets.  The best runner on our team had a large silver rectangular boom box. She would hoist the boom box on her shoulder and crank the song Beat It and we all ran around the track with this as our rally song, feeling good, feeling spunky, feeling confident. 

It occurred to me that lately I've been whining a lot about how old and out of shape I am.  I have been feeling old.  And I can't run without getting a sharp pain.. well.. just about everywhere. 

I'll never run as fast as I did when I was 16.  But when I was 16 I never had the willpower to run 7.1 miles just for the hell of it either.

Make Up and Little Ballerinas

My daughter is 3.  She started doing ballet this year.  I couldn't wait for her to be able to take ballet class.  From the time she started to walk, she has been twirling, on points, and dancing everywhere she could.  My little girl, despite having 2 older brothers,  is very much a girly girl.  Oh sure, she'll play superhero with her brothers, as long as her cape is pink and she gets to wear a crown.

Every Saturday my ballerina and I have gone to her ballet class.   After an hour of instruction she and I go to Starbucks for her favorite cookie; Madelines.  This Monday will be her first ballet recital.

There are many rules for the recital.   We had to dye her shoes white.  She must wear white tights (from the studio--so everyone matches).  Wear her hair in a high bun and ALL of her hair must be off her face (including the bangs she has).  No jewelry (which means taking out her earrings).  And finally, she should wear fire engine red lipstick and blue eye shadow.

I don't wear a ton of makeup but I never leave home without it.  Every morning my daughter stands by my side and hands me the under-eye-concealer, then my eye liner, mascara, and lipstick.  She always asks, "Why you wear make up mama?"  I wink and reply, "Because mama is old and tired..."  She always reminds me that she doesn't want any and I tell her, "You don't need it.  You're beautiful already."

I really have a problem with putting makeup on little girls.  It hasn't been long enough since the whole Jean Bennet thing.  Makeup on little girls gives me the creeps.

But they explained that bright stage lighting required makeup.  I am not a trouble maker (shut up... I am not!).  So I went to CVS to find fire engine red lipstick and blue eye shadow.  I was surprised to see that they still make blue eye shadow.  I was sure that was out with the 70's.

I brought the makeup home and showed it to my daughter.  She asked, "Why you got me makeup?"  I said, "Well, for when you have your recital. Miss Tara wants you to have lipstick and eye shadow."   She got upset and said she didn't want to wear it.  I assured her it was just for the recital and we'd take if off immediately afterward. She looked at me, eyes wide and said, "But Mama.  I don't want to wear the makeup.  I just want to be me."