I did it! I had the wildest and most amazing marathon retirement party ever! But first, let me start with this…

I didn’t make my goal time. I aimed for a 4:40 finish. I trained for it, even left some cushioning in my training for a 4:45 minute finish. I ran in temperatures over 100 degrees. I ran in wind. I ran in rain. I trained in the Texas summer heat. I cross trained through Camp Gladiator and followed Coach Sara’s plan each week. I tapered like I was supposed to. I sought chiropractic relief. I altered my hydration and diet, too. In my training, I gained back the confidence to run a 10mm pace for a half marathon. I had the confidence to run a 10:30-11mm pace WITH HILLS. I lost weight and shook off a large chunk of depression.

I didn’t make my goal time. My finish was 5:10:51, a full 11 minutes slower than 7 years ago for my other time of running this.

BUT…

I did it! This race was EVERYTHING I needed from a final race. It was brutal! Why? The conditions were low 40s with 20-30 mph winds. The winds were so high that they didn’t even allow the handcycles to start in Staten Island, cutting off the Verrazano Bridge entirely for them. I opted to walk that bridge, braving the masses, but staying on the side out of harms way, or so I thought. I was pelted with discarded gloves, water bottles, makeshift windbreakers from garbage bags, a race bib (!), a fuel belt, and sweat shirts. I fought against the wind to get this image:

See those white caps. See those clouds? Brrr…(my lungs started wheezing moments after snapping this. Inside I cursed them and said, Not today!)

And we fought through that wind, running against it for about 20 of those miles, and then we were faced with uphill, no sun, tired legs. Before that, though…

I caught those unicorns I’d been chasing for a while!

I sat in that huddle of people to stay warm before the race. Robin Hood, you guys continue to touch my soul!

I stood in my corral waiting for that BOOM of the cannon and Frank Sinatra to belt out “New York, New York” while we ran past.

I nervously chatted with a local gal, a gal from Atlanta, and 3 women from Argyle, Texas! Wow!

I humbly wore the discarded Dunkin Donuts fleece hat that I had to cut a hole out of the top so my hair would fit.

At mile 13 I took a selfie in the sun!

At mile 15.5 I knew I was still plenty strong.

At mile 19.5 I took another selfie in the sun.

My face hurt from smiling so much! I ran strong! I ran my race. I ran with so many strangers cheering me along the way. I ran while my loved ones cheered me on both in person and through social media. I ran for all of them and for myself. The race was what I needed. It was a metaphor, a true test of determination, strength, endurance, and will. I didn’t really hit a wall. My lungs did feel like they wanted to collapse at one point. I lost feeling of my 3rd toe on my left foot around mile 8. At mile 9-10, I ran alongside my Teej! I saw her and nearly knocked her down because I was so happy to see her. I cried and cried, and squeezed so tightly. She ran in the crowd next to me, and when she hit her street, she hollered “Go!” and I went. At mile 11, I saw my Beloved!! He’d landed and made it to me. At mile 13 I messaged my beautiful friend on bedrest, who was cheering me on, texting me messages of support along the way! I hopped on social media at mile 15-16. I saw a few more familiar faces and beautiful souls at mile 17-19! At mile 20, Robin Hood’s block party erupted in cheers when they saw my shirt! I felt like such a celebrity! I had a pinched nerve in my right shoulder starting at mile 21. But I kept right on pushing. I ran to the Asian drummers beat. I high fived one of the rappers who was performing. I high fived as many kids as I could along the way. I held hands with a gal who was running to honor her mother at mile 23---she’d died on October 28th from cancer. I hugged a Swiss guy whose legs were giving out. I was going so fast, I missed My Michael at mile 24, but I saw my Beloved again at mile 24.5.  I put my phone away after that and focused on finishing. I happily ran under the foliage of My park, Central Park. We emerged out of park a bit after 25 and I saw the GM building…Maverick! I’ve walked MANY times to Columbus Circle, time to pick up the pace! (Screw you, lungs, stop sucking air, we have a race to finish!) I spotted people to try to reach and pass and I did. When I hit mile 26, I shouted BRING IT! and took off at an accelerated pace for that last quarter mile. I passed so many people and felt so light. When I crossed, I didn’t cry in my photos. I just beamed with the biggest smile. That was it.

I did it! 5 hours, 10 minutes, and 51 seconds of happy…happy that isn’t artificial, genuine happiness from achievement and support from more than 200 people! All 200+ of you that know me directly who reached out….

THANK YOU, MERCI, GRACIAS, DOMO ARI GATO, DANKE, GAMSAHBNIDA, GRAZIE!!!

The lady who handed me my medal, she was an older woman, and I just stared at her, and asked her for a hug. And she hugged me tightly like my abuela, and told me that she was so proud of me! Thank you strange lady! Thank you for being proud of me and giving me such a hug! And then I sobbed. Big, fat, joyful tears of happiness and sense of accomplishment.

The trek to my room was a journey all by itself. But I got to see my Beloved again before he headed out to the airport. I was able to laugh and recover with My Michael and Gen at a tea place. I was able to talk about the journey with my running friends and hosts after they returned themselves. The next day, I was tight, but I walked around my park for a while capturing engagement photos (yes, I had an engagement photo shoot and it was amazing!!). I had some amazing food, I had a blowout, and then I came home.

I’m tight, but not overly sore. Only my toe is really hurting, but I feel fine. It was a great retirement and the perfect way to say goodbye to my final endurance run. And now, I pass on the torch to everyone else who is able to do so! I will cheer them on!

Coach Sara…you helped me earn every single bit of this race! THANK YOU! Coach Mark, our time so far has been brief, but you helped me, too! Running friends, thank you for pushing me, even when you didn’t know you were. Mom, thank you for throwing me in the deep end and telling me to swim. Daddy, thank you for never slowing down when we raced! Thank you NYC for showing up, like you always do. I know I can make it anywhere!

I have asthma. I am an athlete.

Hello, I’m Bianca. Some of you know me already. Many others don’t.
Right now I’m training for my second marathon, slated to happen on November 2, 2014. I live in Texas and it gets incredibly hot. This summer, we’ve been lucky and it hasn’t been as bad as it typically is. That isn’t to say that it hasn’t had hot days. Those hot days really affect me. I have had fits of frustration and anger in the middle of my runs. I don’t like having to stop mid-run.

I have asthma.

What does that mean? What is it like? Well, for me, it is like not being able to get a breath. Imagine having a coffee stirrer straw in your mouth, then go out and sprint, breathing only through that straw, not using your nose. Sometimes, attempting a deep breath isn’t possible. Sometimes, you get the deep breath, but then the coughs start. Always, the next day the lungs are sore. I have a love/hate relationship with my inhaler. My inhaler lets me run. It opens the pathways and makes me feel strong. But the next day, my lungs feel like they’ve taken a beating from the inside by a gaggle of angry parasites throwing tiny stones. I arch my back several times, trying to pop it and open the chest cavity. I lace my shoes, and hit the pavement again.

I am a runner.

I have the same questions as many other people when running. We run around like hormonal teenagers, shifting moods in an instant. Why am I doing this? What is the point? It is so hot. It is so early. It is so cold. No, it is really early! Look, people are just getting home from their nights of revelry. My feet hurt. My feet are covered with blisters. My feet are covered with thick callouses. My knees hurt. I love these tiny bags of ice. Oooooh…a sale on running gear. This sports bra is fancy. I love the way these purple leggings feel. This unicorn tank top really allows great air flow to stay cool. I LOVE my purple spibelt. Oh wow, deodorant DOES work when you don’t have Glide. These socks are so fun. These socks suck, they give me blisters. No, these shoes give me blisters. Puff…I love my inhaler. My spibelt really does fit my inhaler, phone, chapstick, travel glide, and bloks wonderfully. Ahhh…my body hurts. It’s so early. Meh, it’s only 6 miles. Gahhh….4 miles again? I hate hills, they suck. Oooh, yaaay hills, they make me stronger. Fartleks? giggle Speed work…noooooo!!! Oh goody, speedwork day! Is it raining outside? I will wear my trail shoes. Where are my yurbuds? I need my yurbuds! Dangit, I don’t have connectivity to Spotify. Download your running mix from Spotify. Oooh, a running skirt? Is it in purple? I will never forget my glide again. Those shorts suck. I chafed so hard. Oooh, are those shorts in purple?  I wish my inhaler came in purple.
Somewhere in the middle of all that, you get the calm. You get the clarity. For me, it is like the world hits pause and all I hear are the cadence of my steps, tick-tick-ticking against the ground below me. My mind’s eye joins my seeing eyes, and I can pay witness to all of the splendor my maker has created before me. My lungs work. My legs are strong. My demon-voices leave my brain, replaced with the memories of cheers from my loves. My heart is happy. I give gratitude for I am able to run when others cannot. For them, I offer up my run. For them, I consider so much. Then I see my babies, my two daughters who look to me for guidance. I run for them. I see my Beloved. I run towards him, chasing him. He never gets so far ahead that I can’t see him. He somehow knows the wheeze and will slow. Quietly. Slowly. He waits for me, patiently, gives me an encouraging look. At the end of the training run, I get the high five reward. During races, each high five I get reminds me of that reward high five. I keep going. Each “Go Bianca” I think of my mother, my best friends, my sister and brother, my father, my daughters, my family, my friends. I keep going. My lungs hurt, my legs hurt. I keep going. Sweat stings my eyes, tears will stream down my face. I keep going. “Bianca fight never dies” is what I tell myself…even when I have to stop and walk. I keep going. “Hills are made for conquering” is what I tell myself…even when I have to pause at the top to catch my breath. I keep going.

I keep going. I keep going. I keep going. I am an athlete. I keep going.

(me on top of my favorite rock-hill in Central Park in Manhattan)

******************
This runner has an amazing write-up for running with asthma: http://www.lifesawheeze.com/p/running-with-asthma-101.html
I’m raising money for Robin Hood again! As of today, I’m $15 shy of $2000!!! I’m so humbled. Feeling generous? https://www.crowdrise.com/RobinHoodNYC2014/fundraiser/biancasias
Leave me a comment with a word of encouragement. I will carry your words with me in my heart when I run. And may literally carry them with me in a printed out piece of paper to keep going.

Rockin’ Tequila

My body is waging war against me for some reason and its favorite attack is excessive amounts of mucus and raging headaches. I’m not complaining too much, just a tiny bit. (Because, really, who likes a complainer? No one!) Usually, when I get to this point, I end up going to my old trusted standbys: shot of tequila, quick runs, and wet sauna stretch sessions.

My grandfather swore by the medicinal properties of tequila. When I’m feeling especially cold-sy, I pull out a shot (chill it with a squirt of fresh lime juice in it) and the burn feels good. It isn’t an instant relief, but it does make me feel better. Plus, I may or may not have had more than one a couple of times and then I just didn’t care about being sick any longer…maybe.

Running…well, running really activates my lungs. I have asthma. Apparently I’ve had it my whole life and just didn’t know it. I now have an inhaler, but I only use it when necessary. I don’t like the jitters it gives me. I do like that I’m better able to breathe, though. Anyway, I run to open my lungs. And when I run, I work them into such a tizzy that the depths of my lungs convulse and force me to cough up all of that nastiness that I am unable to achieve with regular coughing. It sounds entirely too painful and stupid, I know, but it works for me.

The sauna is a super happy place for me. In my gym, they infuse eucalyptus in the steam. It is really hot, steamy, and the essential oils work their magic. I grab a couple of towels and sit in there and do stretching. Not yoga (although, I’ve seen some gals do that, too), but basic stretching and concentrated, deep and long breaths. It is glorious.

Last night, I had a couple of tequilas. I also remembered that it was the last night to register for less than $100 for the Rock N Roll Half Marathon, which I did.  In recent weeks, my husband and I have been hitting our budget hard. Like really combing through each item so we can get closer to financial freedom. It has taken quite a bit of courage to face the truths. I had committed to this half marathon before we had these budget discussions. I said a prayer for it and you know what’s awesome! I received payment from a service that allowed me to register!

Before I’d chosen my word for the year, I’d mentally accepted that I was going to run this race. My cousin who normally  walks the 3Day committed to it. This is her first half marathon. I want to be there with her! This race was one of the driving forces for me to choose COURAGE.

“Hello Bianca…duh, you’ve totally already run a marathon and a half marathon. Why do you need courage?”

1. I’ve trained for those, I know what to expect.
2. It means I sleep less.
3. It means I wake up with an achier body.
4. It means a lot of time alone spent in my head thinking.
5. It means lungs hurt.
6. It means getting chafed in awkward places as I learn what clothes perform best for me.
7. It means peeing in bushes (and on myself).
8. It also means pooping or vomiting in nature. (Runners are gross!)
9. It means many guilt trips I give myself for not going as fast as I’d like.
10. It means less time doing other things. (like sleep…ha ha ha)
11. It means that I need courage to face all of these known factors because I know it’ll be worth it.

I just needed a bit of liquid courage to put all of that in motion. Let’s go!

8 Miles around Mackinac Island

We rented bicycles and rode around the island. Mere days before Don ran it with our buddy. At the time I didn’t know we could have rented a BOB stroller. Had I known that, I totally would have joined them. We were joined by two of our friends who had rented a tandem bicycle! Aren’t they cute?


I had a lovely beach cruiser and hooked up to it was a trailer for the Sugarbaby to ride in. Don had a fancy mountain bike with a weehoo for the Sugarbean. She loved it! She loved pedaling and her own cupholder. Alas, I didn’t get a photo of them because, it’s hard enough for me to bike with both hands on the handlebars, let alone take a photo. Some day! Anyway, here is T hanging out in the back of the trailer.


When we first set off, there was a lovely beach/boardwalk area. There were many wildflowers and geese hanging out on the shore. We had the share the road with carriages, so we had to dodge horse bombs lingering on the street. I was not as successful as the other riders. Our bike mates joked with me wondering if I was drunk because of my wobbliness. Nah, just not a great rider.





We stopped at the Devil’s Kitchen mini cave. We didn’t grab a photo in front of that. Instead, we opted for the photo with Mackinac Bridge behind us.


That skirt I’m wearing is actually a long maxi skirt that I’d tucked into my undies to prevent it from getting caught in the pedals. Upon take off, I’m fairly certain I might have given someone a free show. Luckily, I quickly sorted things out to prevent it from happening again. On this side of the island, the wind was still blowing heavily, so there were actual waves on the shore.


If you do such a trip, maybe wear closed toe shoes, unless you are expert biker. My Roxy flipflops worked, but I would’ve been more comfortable in my Minimus shoes. Don was smart, and so was Mari.


We continued on our journey and stopped at the halfway point to skip rocks, take photos, drink some water, and enjoy the view. At the halfway point is where they have water for purchase and bathrooms. Oh, and absolutely no sandy beaches!





We navigated to the other side of the island where the water was still and it was so quiet. We happened upon Arch Rock and it was quite a site!


After being out around the island for a couple of hours, we returned our bikes and went in search of food. Upon our return, we saw these fantastic kites. The black one looked like a flying Voldemort!


Seconds after getting this photo, someone bumped into me (didn’t even apologize!!) and I lost grip on my new phone (barely a week old) and shattered the glass screen. To say I was beside myself with sadness is an understatement. I know it is just a thing, but it was my brand new thing that I’d been saving my money for months and to have it broken so quickly really, really disappointed me. Especially after I saw the CNET torture test where the phone survived 3 falls! Ugh…I’m able to get it fixed, but for far more than what I want it to be.

Anyway, that was our bike ride! Because I don’t want to leave it on a sour note, here is a lovely and cute photo to make you happy. Sisters skipping along the sidewalk, holding hands, wearing their new shirts. I absolutely love how close these two are!

Dreams Coming True

For 30 years I’ve had this dream to walk into Yankee Stadium and feel the mystique that surrounds all the history of this well beloved franchise.

You see, when I was a little girl, I had two passions in my life: baseball and fashion design. I was a Texas Rangers fan (duh, I’m a Texas gal and I spent some time living in the Dallas area when I was a kiddo), a fan of the Dodgers (my great uncle Phil played with them a long time ago), and much to my father’s dismay, the New York Yankees. As soon as I saw that classic blue and white color scheme, paired with pinstripes…well, I was in love! That high level attention to detail…and they had the market cornered on style!

I made several trips over the years to Chavez Ravine. Each game holds special memories, especially the one where the promotion item was a crazy blue haired wig and we watched Eric Gagne come in and close it out “Game Over.”

Many of our summers were spent at the Ballpark in Arlington, several of those games were played against former Rangers who’d “graduated” to the Bronx Bombers. When I watched Finding Forrester, there was a scene where they walk on to the ballfield. I had tears in my eyes.

Back in 2002, I made my first visit to New York. The Yanks weren’t in town playing. I’ve since been back many times and each visit, they hadn’t been in town. But, as fate would have it, on this journey, they were in town. I’d reached out to a colleague for inside assistance with regards of best tickets for my money. If there existed such a person who knew the ins and outs to Yankee stadium, he was the man. He has a vast knowledge of all things Yankees. I really wanted to have the absolute best experience I could have within our budget. But like I said, fate. He did me one better. He’d gotten tickets for us behind homeplate less than 30 rows up in Yankee Stadium! The universe was singing to me and I heard it loud and clear, “Happy Birthday, Bianca!!!”

****

Let me back up a bit. Cinco de Mayo this year, I spent back home in Lubbock at my parent’s home. This was the first time during our marriage where we didn’t celebrate it together. The purpose of the celebrations had become even greater since we honeymooned over it seven years ago. During our honeymoon, we promised we would toast and honor the celebration…and fall in love all over again. Being apart from by beloved took an even greater toll than I was expecting. That evening before bed, he and I were texting a bit while I watched a movie. Once of his texts was so cryptic that I just picked up the phone and called him. It was during that conversation that he surprised me and told me that he’d booked a plane ticket to accompany me on my business trip. He’d rocked my world with that news and I went from being a sobbing melancholy mess to a sobbing elated HOT mess.

Together, we’d coordinated our mother’s to watch our girls and the second honeymoon was starting earlier than planned. What? Yeah, we’d already planned on going to Costa Rica for a second honeymoon, where again, our mother’s would watch our girls. We are BEYOND blessed that they could accommodate us and more than that, they were willing to. What a generous gift, right? And a very special one for our girls, as well.

*****

While in New York, our dance card was full with dates with dear friends and some family! Hopefully, I can write about some of our other experiences. Anyway, on Yankee day, June 7, I had a regular meeting-filled day at the office. By the afternoon, I needed a java pick-me-up. Don had been playing at the Museum of Natural History and was on his way back. We decided to meet up at the Apple Store and we walked over to Trump off of 5th Avenue to the nearest Starbucks. We picked up our coffees and strolled back amongst the tourists, which were plentiful.They then parted to reveal a photographer and a model who were re-enacting the Breakfast at Tiffany’s scene sans the Givenchy dress, but definitely an elegant French twist and a bagel. I made a head motion to the door and he affirmatively shrugged. In we went! This was my first visit to that infamous store. I’d previously told him of my desire of a bauble from there specifically one designed by Frank Gehry. While luxurious and sophisticated, it was never something within our budget. But today…well that day was about magic! We went to the third floor to the silver floor. We walked around almost the entire floor looking for Frank Gehry’s section. I’d just about given up when a friendly sales lady greeted us. I wasn’t yet dedicated to making a purchase. I wanted it to be a matter of chance and fate. I casually dismissed her and as she turned away, I spotted the micro ring, torque design by this famous architect, which is a direct connection to my father. (He’d studied architecture in college and some of that still lingered and rubbed off on me.) I quickly called the sales lady back, moments after our previous conversation, and requested to see the ring. She was surprised that it was tucked behind a necklace and was happy that I’d spotted it. She said it was a favorite of hers. I was going to pass off that remark as “sales speak” when I spotted that very ring on her middle finger, only in gold. I took it as a sign. I slipped on the display model and it fit, only it was a bit loose. Instead, she’d opened a brand new one, size 5.5, and it slipped right on. “It should slide on, but be a slight bit snug at the knuckle.” It was for this reason that I had lost two of my gold “Tesla” bands. Losing them saddened me, and I realized I'd gotten rings too large. I wanted a replacement. I gave Don an eyebrow raise and he nodded, so we bought it! She insisted I give it back to her. She wrapped it up, even though I wanted to wear it. “It’s just a little something for you to open later. Happy birthday!” I walked back to my office carrying that beautifully wrapped box, inside that small blue bag. That moment, it represented so many things and well…the obvious being an entire weekend’s worth of part-time work for Don to afford it. Him giving his time…happily exchanging his time (something you can’t ever put a price on) for me. **marinate on that thought for a moment…when was the last time you paused and thought about the time given for you, not money, but time** That moment also represented the abstract of fulfilling that young girl’s dream of going to Tiffany and Co. and having her beloved buy her a special trinket from the world’s idea of supreme luxury since the 1800s, signifying his affections. Being a part of that long standing history, seems a bit against my idea of being unique and different, but we all have our things that for whatever reason, we and hold on to. I know how very, very special that was. For some it may be a regular thing, but not many. For me, this was truly a special moment I will never forget.

So that’s how I got a Tiffany box on my coffee run. I had visions of returning to New York with my girls and taking them to Tiffany and Co for bagel breakfasts and procuring trinkets to mark the occasion.

That evening, we rode the subway over to Yankee Stadium. It had started to sprinkle on the way there. By the time we arrived, it was pouring. I didn’t have an umbrella. I had faith. After walking down the platform, we poured out into the street and the rain had slowed to a sprinkle. We stood under an awning awaiting the rest of our party when the sun broke through. The slow fat rain drops danced in the sun. In the opposite direction a double rainbow with the most amazing violets (my favorite color) I’ve ever seen on a rainbow, let alone two rainbows!!! I love how my amiga put it, “Loved ones watching over you.”

And that’s where it comes full circle. My loved ones. The ones who influenced me from so long ago, who inspired my dreams. There they were, with me in my heart. Happily smiling as they witnessed my dreams coming true. BOOM! Happy.

Spicy French Fries: Adventures in U4 Soccer

I've played organized sports since I was 5. I was the mascot for my sister's soccer team when I was 3.

Yeah, I was quite the stylish fashionista. Don't hate! Mom enrolled me in ballet when I was 4 and around that time, I also did gymnastics. Truth be told, I adored ballet and I couldn't get enough of gymnastics. My sister, on the other hand, really took to the soccer field, and the basketball court, volleyball court...well, she's a natural athlete. Me, I study the mechanics. I have all the parts to make up a decent athlete and the two things that I think that have helped me the most are: tenacity (a never-give-up attitude) and dedication. What I didn't have in height/speed, I could make up with my brain. I like how you can use your noggin and turn a physical game to a thinking one really quick. Athletics have always been a basic tenet in our family. It seemed only natural that our Sugarbean would follow in our footsteps, right. The big question was....when?

When she turned two, we thought long and hard about enrolling her in gymnastics. I even went so far as to scope out a location, interview friends, and find the right time for us. I bought her a leotard, but when it was time to commit, I chickened out. I felt that it was too soon. When she turned three, I knew this was going to be the year that she would be doing something. Initially, I was going to sign her up for ballet, when I realized that the basic principles of it, I could teach her at home until I knew it was something she was going to want to pursue further. While there are other kids in the classroom, they aren't as engaging as let's say, a soccer field. Our Sugarbean has been exposed to other children at her school, at playdates, etc, but she's never had to really  showcase true teamwork (What's gonna work, teamwork!--Wonder Pets reference). When my friend told me that she signed up her son, I signed up Mari and hoped for the best. We thought we were going to be on the same team, but as we discovered, they don't normally do co-ed unless specifically requested. Even at the U4 age group, they are separated by gender. Then the email was sent out to all of the parents asking for a coach because one hadn't stepped up to do it. I waited half the day and then tossed my name in the hat. I thought I would be selected to be the assistant coach. Within an hour, I received the message that I was the head coach, thanking me for volunteering, then told I didn't have an assistant...yet.

On a Saturday morning, off we went to purchase her cleats and shin guards. When we arrived at Dick's I was excited that they had a soccer special. Cleats, shin guards, and a ball for $30! Score! Even better was that we got 15% off our purchase. I went ahead and bought a couple of pair of workout shorts and a practice jersey. That evening, when I put them on her so she could try it out, she was too excited. I asked her what she wanted her team to be called and she said, "Spicy French Fries." Honestly, I don't know where this kid comes up with this stuff. She's never eaten spicy french fries, so I blame the TV advertisements. I emailed the rest of the team and who knew that kids had such a sense of humor. We had a resounding approval for the name Spicy French Fries. Hysterical. This league provides uniforms to the U4-U6 leagues. When I went to the coaching clinic, I picked 'em up. One practice later, we were ready for our first game.

I was so nervous. Seriously, I was ready to vomit, kind of nervous. I just kept telling myself, have fun. Be sure the girls have fun. Teach them that they are little ladies and they can play, have fun, and enjoy the game with grace. Teams are normally made up of 8 players. Before the start of the first game, one of the girls had pulled out for this season, so we were down to 7. No big deal. We play 4 on 4 with 10 minute quarters and a 2 minute half-time. We don't keep score. I'd brought orange slices for half-time and for the after game snack donut holes and juice boxes. 42 tough minutes later and I was shell shocked. 6 of the 7 girls were in tears. One had completely left the game and watched it from the safe confines of her family van. The other team played confidently and seemed to understand the game. Later, I talked with the League Director and he put is very simply. Up to this point, we've taught our children to take turns, share, and be nice. When we put them on the soccer field, there's quite a bit of yelling and chaos, there's stealing, there's shoving...all of these things we've spent the better part of their young lives telling them NOT to do. Be sure to distinguish to them that when they are on the field, it is ok and they have the permission to do otherwise. Not biting, but they can "play" and win. That was great advice and I tucked it in my pocket to reference at the next practice. I also made a goal to only have 3 girls cry at the next game and 1 less parent on the field (by the end of the game, every girl who played had their parent on the field).

We also practiced passing, trap-stopping, kicking it in, and celebrating. I taught the girls to high five one another. We practiced our little cheer "1-2-3...GET SPICY!" By Saturday, I felt we were more prepared.

Tesla was ready...Gooooo Sister!!!

The game was so humid, it was like standing in a wet sauna. A couple of my girls had been under the weather at practice, and they looked mildly better at the start. One of our players didn't show because she was ill. During the week, we had another girl drop out of the season. Our small team of 6 total was short-staffed to 5. We took the field as always and were ready for the kick off.

Mari had a drive to score, but literally stepped out of her shoe. She was completely embarrassed and wilted by it and chose to sit out a quarter because of it. When she returned, she was timid, but seemed excited to be there. She wanted to hold my hand, and I let her.

We ran up and down the field. During one of the other team's goal kicks, I told her that the gal was probably going to "pass" it to her and for her to be ready. Sure enough, the gal kicked it in to Mari and it rolled to her feet. She stared at me seeking permission and I motioned for her to kick it in. And that is how the Sugarbean scored her first ever goal. She ran over and gave the gal from the other team a high five and I told her to thank her for the pass. The other little girl was so excited too! Was it possible that they were actually having fun? There were a few quarters we cut short and our girls were ready for it to be over. They happily snacked on their apple slices, chocolate bunnies, and chocolate milk. I looked around and realized that not one of them had cried! I only had 3 parents on the field, including myself. I considered it a major victory!

Now, I still need to get her to not get her feelings hurt when someone takes the ball away. (Who is this timid child?) I want her to not give up so easily and completely shut down. Luckily, we have a few more months of this to work on it. When I really think about it, this is why I wanted her to be in organized sports. I wanted her to get out of her comfort zone, learn about teamwork, learn what it means to commit to something/someone, and to have fun. Kinda like what we do at home with our family, but with her team. I see her growing more and more as she gets to know the girls more and becomes more of their friend. That brings me comfort, knowing that she already values her friendships. :) It's definitely been a fun adventure and I'm glad to be an official "soccer mom."

Any advice from you folks who've gone through this? Any thoughts?

The Fight...Recap

On Saturday, Don and I headed out to our first ever boxing match. I was very, very excited about it. I don't normally like fighting of any sort, so to say I was a tad bit apprehensive was an understatement. But something about the pomp and circumstance surrounding it had me intrigued. I have always had a fondness of watching fights on TV, so this was going to be an event. Leading up to it, I had done a slight bit of research on the two boxers and much to the dismay of my fellow Mexican-Americans, I was rooting for Pacquiao. I'm a big fan of scrappy. Those of you, like me, who have never heard of him, I will give you a brief recap. He's small. He's like 5'6 (which makes me think he's that height on a good day). He's a congressman. He's a devout Catholic. He was in the military. Even more impressive is that he's won 10 world titles in 8 weight classes!!! That's insane! To be fair, I'll link Margarito too. Honestly, I remember watching him box in his earlier years. I didn't recognize him with the ornate clothes and the fancy haircut/facial hair. Don was actually a fan of his pointy beard. I thought it was neat too. If they were having a contest in style, I fully believe that Margarito would have won. I say this because he came looking like he was ready to walk the catwalk or do a promo shoot, not actually fight!

First off, here is where I give a shout out to my friend who so generously gave us the tickets. She was probably more than aware that Don and I needed a date night and this was just the thing! Prior to this, neither one of us would have willingly sought out to purchase tickets to a fight. This was definitely something new and exciting and Don and I like to have adventures! The above photo is taken from our seats. They were really amazing indeed!

There were 3 fights on the undercard (not sure if that's how you say properly or not). The first one was meh. It had me fired up and ready for the fight. Although, only one guy actually had an entrance. The next fight was not very exciting at all. I actually took a short break to buy some coffee and grab a beer for Don. The final fight before was very invigorating. The winner, Mike Jones, was the only American on the ticket. He walked into a very spiritual slow song that kinda killed the hyped up entrance to his opponent. Both of these guys were bigger in size than the previous ones. During the breaks between the rounds, the ring gals would prance around holding the digital sign. One of them would dance. One of them looked like she could barely walk. The other did a sashay-dance thing. Unfortunately, the attention was taken from them when they would cut into the dressing rooms of the players of the main event. Our section seemed to be flooded with Margarito fans and Mexican flags. There was a sprinkle of Pacquiao lovers.

Before the main event started, the lights went dark and the announcer introduced Nelly! I had no idea that we were going to be treated to a mini concert. For the record, I took the above photo. It is actually a picture of the ginormous television screen at Jerry world. Isn't that some amazing quality? He sang two songs: Country Grammar and Just a Dream. I have to say, that he has some of the best teeth I've ever seen! What a totally random thing to say, but it is true. I know they have to be capped because at one point he had a solid gold grill. I digress, back to the fight...

This is the beginning of the fight after the fighters have made their respective entrances. If you look on the screen above the ring, you can see Michael Buffer, the professional announcer. They both had strong entrances. They were both cordial. I was a little bothered that Margarito hesitated to touch gloves with Pacquaio on the first round, but didn't mind doing so during subsequent rounds. Before the start of each round, Pacquaio did the sign of the cross and pressed on.

The fight went all 12 rounds and wow. That Margarito took a beating, but I admired his courage and moxie. He would NOT give up, despite having a fractured orbital bone. Yeeesh! To read a better recap of the actual fight, I would suggest you go here (read it from the bottom to the top).

For those of you interested, I wore a long black maternity skirt and a lace tank top with lots of jewelry. It was chilly out that day, so I had on a long sweater as well as a scarf and my coat. I wore my red Toms because I knew that we would probably have to walk a ways. I had my fancy black satin shoes in hand to change into once inside the stadium. When we pulled up, I must note that we paid the premium price for parking, which was $50. Yes, that's a lot of money to pay for parking, but here's the deal. We didn't pay for the tickets. My sister watched Mari for us, so we didn't have to pay for a babysitter. Even with buying drinks (coffee & beer), we had an amazing date for not nearly what it would have cost us. Considering where we were sitting, if you added the cost of the tickets, the babysitter, parking, and beverages, you are looking at total value from $500 to $750! I was feeling like we were living large, let me tell you. Any reason to dress up and look like some pretty arm candy for my husband is a wonderful night! Despite the jeans shopping experience from earlier in the week, I was feeling gorgeous and glam. Thank you Xochitl! You have no idea how much that night meant to us.

Happy Halloween

BooooOOOOOooo!!

Can you tell by my jack-o'-lantern that I'm more about the jolly Halloween instead of the scary? Anyway, today was a busy day. Mari let us sleep in past 9:30 and when she got up, we made some breakfast: banana pancakes, scrambled eggs with broccoli, and yogurt. Then, we went to Whole Earth Provisions to pick up a new pair of shoes for Don. While there, Mari fell in love with the Melissa and Doug wooden grilling set. She also had fun petting the stuffed lion, giraffe, and dogs. I think the giraffe was her favorite though, because she kept wanting to give it a hug.

Anyway, we came home and let her nap, while I got ready for church. I am a sponsor for a candidate for the Catholic church. This afternoon, we celebrated the mass that officially welcomed her to our faith. She received her first communion and her confirmation. Honestly, I had tears of joy running down my face and a big beaming smile as she was anointed with the oil. It felt so good to have my right hand on her right shoulder, showing my support for her. Very cool!

At the reception, we munched on finger sandwiches, fruit, and desserts. Unfortunately, while we had just sat down, Mari looked over to me and said, my tummy hurts. Then she made a couple of hacking sounds and got sick in one of the plates that I was later thankful I covered with a napkin. It wasn't a whole lot, but I knew she wasn't feeling 100%. We got home and she wasn't in the door for two minutes before she was projectile vomiting. Poor thing, you're not supposed to be sick on holidays! Afterwards, she looked up and me and said, "I'm ok. Let's go trick-or-treating!" I figured, maybe it was just one of those passing things, so we let her go.

We covered the length of the street and once we got to the end, she was insistent on being carried. We made it home and again, she was sick. We gave her some water and she asked for some gummi bears. Well, she ate two and handed them back over. If you know Mari, you know she loves all things gummi! This was a surprise. I took her temperature, and she didn't have one. But then she did hold up the sick bucket to her mouth again and immediately got sick some more. Poor dear doesn't have anything in her belly to get sick. I don't know what is going on, but it is looking to be a long night.

Other than this, we had such a wonderful weekend. Last night, we were witness to the first Rangers win of the World Series. Before that, we ventured out to the FC Dallas Game, where they won their playoff game 2-1. It was very exciting and once again, I was happy to have purchased the noise cancelling headphones for Mari.

After the game, we lingered a bit so we could say hello to Mari's favorite soccer player, Ugo Ihemelu. We took a photo of them, but she was immediately shy. He was so nice to happily pose with her. :)

Hope you all had a safe Halloween!

Let's Go Rangers!

You faithful readers know that I'm a big fan of baseball. I revisited the stadiums I have been lucky to visit here. I talked about last year's world series and how many of the Yankees were former Rangers here. We took Mari to visit the Ballpark on her almost 6 month birthday. Last year, I was able to see my name in lights again when I celebrated my birthday there with many, many family members, just like when I turned 12 and Daddy took me and my friends to the old Arlington stadium to heckle Bo Jackson. In those days we cheered on Pete Incaviglia and Ruuuuuuben Sierrrrra! In college, I cheered for Pudge Rodriguez and Juan Gonzalez, the mighty Puerto Ricans! I still remember the first time I visited the new stadium, the Ballpark in Arlington.

My first professional baseball game was at Chavez Ravine. I liked the Dodgers. I was told by my cousins and uncles that to be a true baseball purist, you need to like and/or respect the Yankees. I saw their pinstriped uniforms and I was sold. I learned about the history of baseball and fell in love with them some more. But then, I went to a game in the old Arlington stadium. Something about having a team so close with likable guys made me relate. We spent many summer nights at that stadium. We saw the concerts after the game (I've got sunshiiiiii-iine, on a cloudy day. When it's cold outsiiiii-iiide, I've got the month of May.), we were in awe of the fireworks, and I had grand dreams to be proposed on the big screen one day. Little did I know that the dream would be a reality, while my two favorite teams, met up, no less: Rangers v. Yankees May 2004

The Rangers managed to win that day. On the outside, I told everyone I would be happy regardless of the outcome, and frankly, my head was elsewhere that day, yet, I still rooted for our guys, especially because A-Rod's departure to the Yankees was a thorn in my heart.

A part of me always wanted the Rangers to win, but time and time again, it was the Yankees in October, so I took small comfort knowing one of the two would be representing. But when they come head-to-head, I'm always a Rangers fan, despite being witness to more losses than victories against them. So here we are, battling the Yankees for the ALCS. Each night, I am glued to the TV and when I feel my blood pressure rising, I change the channel and fix my eyes to my facebook account waiting for the fan updates. So many play-by-play updates, it is almost like watching the TV. When I know it is safe for me to watch again, I will turn it back. The rituals the same, always. Every 7th inning, I stand up and sing along to God Bless America even though I know I can never finish the song because I'm always crying. Again, I can't believe it. I do believe, but it is unbelievable! Our guys, they are here. They've been in the show all along, but now they are center stage and every night I watch them, I get so full of pride and happiness. Each night after the game, I want to call my father and gleefully revel in the joy. Baseball has always been our thing. It's our family thing, but a very special thing between my father and I. When we trek to the stadium from the parking lot, I'm instantly a kid again, clutching the coupon for the discounted program, wearing our Ranger gear, in excited anticipation of what the game will hold.

This year, summer has been stretched a little bit longer, along with it, hope. It's so great to know that Mari already likes it as much as I do. It makes me even happier to know that no matter the distance between our family, we are all listening and/or watching the game. Go Rangers!