Newtons "60 Days of Better"

OK, I've been fascinated with these Newton shoes. At the same time, I've been hesitant to try them out because my feet are just so screwy. I didn't want to spend nearly $200 on a pair of shoes and end up hating them. So, when I saw that Newton was offering a 60 day test drive on their shoes, with no hassle, no questions asked returns, I decided to jump on it.

$180 later, I was the proud owner of Newton Motion (Motus) shoes.
My first run was only a mile. It was a busy day and I was trying to squeeze in a run in between errands. That mile was tough, and I found that my calves and thighs hurt more than usual, but chalked that up to using different muscles.

Today, I ran 3.1 miles with the local shoe store group. In fact, it was the store I bought my Newtons from. Anyway...first mile was OK.My the second mile, my knees were hurting. By the time I got to 3 miles, I was heel striking. That's been an ongoing issue with me, to the point where I developed plantar fasciitis back in April when training for my half, and it hasn't gotten any better.
By the time I made it back to the store, my right heel, and top of the foot was hurting.

I'm not sure how much longer I will give these shoes, honestly. I have 4 races, including a half marathon coming up in the next 6 weeks, and I'm worried I wont be able to do it with these shoes.

Plus, if I'm gonna heel strike anyway, I can do that with a pair of $100 Brooks.

I am so over not having a car

That is all...

Sometimes.....

I hate the industry I work in. With all the "be skinny", "be pretty", "who you are is not good enough", messages that some people put out there.
Someone on my facebook just posted "....making a prettier world one butt at a time". Why isn't the message "making a HEALTHIER world"?  At the end of the day, "pretty" and "skinny" doesn't equal healthy. I really think all the focus on looks makes the people who need it the most, stay home on the couch.

Why I hate people

So first, a quick back story.
When I was 16, I bought my first car. It was a total beater...a 1976 Honda Civic; $200 and she was all mine. My second car was an orange Ford Pinto station wagon... I honestly can't remember the year. I just remember it was the only 2 door station wagon I had ever seen, and it was so damn ugly, it was cool. I had a couple more cars before I became a mom at 19 and had to settle into responsible mom vehicle. I had 3 kids by the time I was 24 and had settled into life behind the wheel of a minivan.

At age 36, my kids were finally grown enough that I didn't need the big mom vehicle. I could FINALLY have something "fun". I had always wanted a VW Bug...convertible. It had never been practical until now.

Christmas of 2010 my husband surprised me with Prudence. My 2005 VW Beetle convertible. She had about 13,000 miles on her when we bought her, and in the nearly 2yrs I've had her she still has less than 29,000. I. Love. That. Car.

On Monday, Aug 6th, I was sitting in the left turn lane and a red light waiting for it to turn green. The light changed, I took a second or two to look across the intersection at on coming traffic and see that the line of cars appeared to be turning let as well, so I was clear to make my turn. I pulled out and heard a horn. It caught my attention enough for me to hit the brakes at the same instant a woman ran a red light and plowed into me. Now, let me just say that IT COULD HAVE BEEN WORSE. Everyone walked away unharmed. If I hadn't heard the horn, she would have t-boned me and who knows how bad that would have been in my little car. As it was, she hit my front fender/tire, area.
I was livid! How do you run a freaking red light and HIT MY CAR. The first thing I did was roll down my window and point to my still green light and yell "WHAT THE HELL AER YOU DOING? MY LIGHT WAS GREEN". She pulled off. I couldn't believe it. I tried to move my car and the tire was pushed in and something under there was broken. My daughter, who was in the car with me, called 911, while I called my husband.
Turned out the woman just pulled into the parking lot of the shopping center I was pulling out of. About this time an off duty officer came up to make sure everyone was ok. As he was asking me what happen, the other woman came up and started asking me why I ran the red light.
YOU HAVE GOT TO ME KIDDING ME. I lost it. I went off on her. I told her I would beat her ass in the middle of the street, SHE had run the light and hit me. The officer told her to go sit in her car.
That was the last I saw of her. All parties decided it was for the best if she stayed on her end of the parking lot
The on duty officer showed up and it was the same story, She claimed she had a green light and I came out of no where. Yep, me and all the people behind me...and the ones across the intersection that were also turning into her path, we ALL came out of no where. The officer flat out told me he thought she was lying, but because no witnesses stayed, there wasn't anything he could do but write it up as I told it and how she told it and let insurance figure it out.

So it's been nearly 2 weeks. My insurance called me today to tell me that their investigation showed "No definitive proof" who ran the light. So, they will take care of my damages, minus my deductible, and she is on her own for hers. My consolation...she was driving a 97 Toyota and had Geico insurance, there's a real good chance she only had liability and will pay out of pocket for her damages. Karma, bitch.
Meanwhile I'm without a car until mine is repaired (thankfully the axle isn't broken like I first thought), because I don't have loss of use coverage (direct quote when my husband asked if we had loss o use coverage, I replied "What you should be worried about is if we have beat a bitch's ass coverage", told you I lost it). Had this woman just owned her shit, I could have had a rental. Plus, it's the right thing to do. Only a piece of shit lies about causing a wreck. I didn't do anything wrong, but I'm the one paying for it.

Where did July go?

So, officially I didn't get fired. Unofficially...might as well have been.

We had our July event. I threw something together that was completely out of my comfort zone, and it was pretty damn good if I do say so myself. And I do, because I deserve the praise. I was told during this time that I would be very happy with the outcome of the following week's meeting based on how well I did during the event.

So, fast forward to the next week. I go to my meeting and get told that I was being taken off the schedule for August. I could figure out what I wanted to go and possibly come back in Sept.  I was scheduled to get Zumba© licensed the next week...I could come back as a Zumba© instructor, or learn the new way they had decided to teach my weight class.
MY weight class. The one I brought to the studio, and developed. No longer mine. No longer taught the way I set it up.
Ok, I was determined to be all Zen and whatever happens happens about the whole thing. I had a lot o stuff going on or me, so just go with the flow.

The next week I went back to my ballroom performance class. That made me happy, since I had missed the last performance to do this studio event. The very next day, I got up and went into  the city and spent 10hrs getting Zumba© licensed. When I got home, I had to pack. I had a 6am flight to Las Vegas the next morning. I managed to sleep for a couple hours, but was up by 2am to head to the airport. We flew ALL DAY.  Finally made it to Vegas around 9am local time. We then crashed. When we woke up, it felt like I had been eating sand in my sleep. Welcome to the desert.
We were in Vegas from Friday thru Tuesday. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas (or lives forever on Facebook)
Tuesday was another day of flying. I was exhausted when we got home. Weds morning, real life started back up. I was back in my ballroom class that night. Barely enough time to stop and take a breath. The rest of the week consisted of back to school orientations and school shopping.

That Friday, we had another studio event along with a staff meeting. It became painfully obvious how unwanted I am there after that staff meeting. Two instructors were auditioned that night. Then we talked about upcoming events.The studio is bringing in a children's dance program. Ballet and jazz to start. That program is getting my old time slot. The prime slot after that is taken by other instructors. There's just no room for me there.
We're also being asked to "chip in" for various advertising expenses. Expensive advertising expenses. And, if we don't sell at least 10 tickets to the next studio event, the difference will be taken from our pay. Say what?? We're all independent contractors, so I'm thinking maybe the labor laws aren't the same as if we were just employees. Either way, I don't really feel like sticking around for this one.

So, am I fired...or just being pushed out? In the end, does it matter?

Meanwhile, I'm trying to set up some other options. I have bills to pay, I can't sit here waiting for something to happen.

It still hurts

I think I'm being fired. I got an email today asking when a good time would be to sit down and talk about my future with the company.
So much has happen in the past couple of months. I've been hurt by the studio owner, someone I considered a friend. I've been thinking about moving on anyway, so I don't know why this upsets me so much.
Maybe it's the perceived friendship. I feel duped. I thought we had actually become friends outside of the studio, but I've come to realize that she saw me as someone she could get something from. I didn't live up to my potential, so she is looking for a tactful way to get rid of me so I don't run out and bad mouth her business. I've come to realize the "friendship" was a lie.
Plus...there's an event this weekend. I feel like she is holding off the meeting until after that so she can squeeze as much out of me as possible. If she tells me this week she doesn't want me back in August, I might not want to perform at the party. Again, I'm just someone she can get something from.

I need to just breathe and accept it for what it is and move on.

Peachtree Road Race (2)

So, on July 4th, I joined 60,000 others in an Atlanta institution known as the Peachtree Road Race.
People take this thing very seriously...in a totally unserious way. Around March, there is a lottery to enter. About 70,000 people register for the 60,000 slots available...then we wait. Although the vast majority of people who want to run the race get in, the ones who don't, get rather angry about it. The day of the drawing, you will see tons of angry facebook postings from people who didn't make it, think it's unfair that walkers get in when they didn't, don't like that first timers got in when they didn't...you name it, they are angry about it.
That being said..I've won the lottery the past two years, so this made my second Peachtree. Just like last year, I entered with my best friend and Sole Sister, Sarah. We counted down the months to July. We had shirts made. We talked about the other stuff we would do when she came down.
Then, unexpected expenses caused her to not be able to come down. She will get guaranteed entry next year, so we have that to look forward to, but as far as this year, I was on my own.

So, on July 4th, I got up way too early and headed into Atlanta.  I went as far as the MARTA station and rode that into town with the rest of the crowds. I found my way to my start corral, and waited. I had gotten there way too early. I should have stopped at the porta potty, but I was just ready to go. After an hour of waiting at the start (Plenty of time to go to the potty), we were off.
I'm running along, in my zone, headphones in, music up, and out of nowhere I hear my name. It's a rather common name, so it could have been for anyone, but something told me to turn around. There was my friend Rachael and her husband Jason. It was their first Peactree, and I knew we were starting in the same corral, and had looked around for them while I was waiting, but they were  no where to be found. I thought it was hilarious that she recognized me from behind. She said it was my funky knee high sock monkey socks. I'm kind of known for my funky knee highs.
We said our hellos and awkwardly hugged while running and then we were both on our way.
Right after the one mile mark I decided I would take the time loss and stand in the potty line. There was no way I would make it to the finish and there was no use even trying.
Seven mins later, I was back on the road.

Before I knew it, I was at mile 3 and heading up Cardiac Hill. I remembered from last year that this hill wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, so I plugged along. When I got to the top, I let myself walk for about  0.2 mile just to refresh my legs. The sun was coming out and it was getting hot.
The rest of the race went about the same. I ran more than last year, but walked more than I would have liked.
The miles flew by and soon I was at the finish line. I grabbed my bottle of water, my shirt, stood in line for a finisher's photo, then headed to the other side of the park and on to the MARTA station. I didn't have any reason to hang out at the finish since I was on my own this year.
Last year, the walk to the MARTA was brutal. Uphill the whole mile (or more). My legs were dead by the time I got there. This year, it wasn't a big deal at all. It felt shorter, my legs were fine; what a difference a year of training does.

In the end, my Garmin time was 1:35:16...7 mins faster than last year's time, but those 7 mins in the bathroom line made my official time closer to last year's time. I'll take the bathroom break over the alternative

I'm already looking forward to next year. Sarah will be here and all will be right with the world :)