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Archives For November 30, 1999

Am I running these days? Yes…my mouth. About how much I don’t want to run.

March 1, 2014

Want to know how I’ve mentally and physically prepared for running a big race in May thus far? Come on, you know you do. It will make you feel better about yourself.

I over-zealously declared all my New Year’s resolutions to anyone who would listen. I AM DOING ALL THE THINGS!

I gave up pop for a full month. I patted myself on the back.

I logged 3.5 miles a day for a week straight. At which point, my back responded: Uuummm…yyyeah…about that weak core of yours. I still can’t support it. So I’m out.

As my back went on strike, my recovery plan included a cocktail of chiro and physical therapy appointments, lots of Subway sandwiches, microwave popcorn, Girl Scouts cookies, and remorse.

I bought some new running shoes.

I complained about how I’m not able to get in my training miles when the freezing temperature makes it impossible to run outdoors in Nebraska, when the treadmill in my basement makes me angry just looking at it, and when the number on the scale reminds me that this year will be harder.

As I’ve said before, the act of running is not something I ever look forward to doing. Ever. However, being alone with my mind and experiencing endorphin release in my body make the lens in which I look through life much clearer.

Spring is coming. I must remember that.

Until it gets here, I’ll just sit back and watch this clip of a baby instinctively bonding with its mother on auto loop to make me smile.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iczs634kMjc

Written by Heidi Woodard

In Fitness, Running, Shame , , , , , , ,
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My take on the Alabama mom who lost her cool at the Sugar Bowl

January 7, 2014

This post was written especially for Jen Schneider over at livlaughlove.com. You can follow her on Facebook too.

Come on…you KNEW I couldn’t let this one die.

Yes, it’s four-day old news. And, yeah, I’m betting the majority of you have already seen the video(s) by now.

But if you’ve been living under a rock and don’t have a clue about what I’m referring to when I say “possessed Alabama mom pounding a cocky Oklahoma bro”…allow me to do the honors and set the scene.

The Crimson Tide faced the Oklahoma Sooners in this year’s NCAA college football Sugar Bowl on January 2. OU ended up winning that game 45-31.

I didn’t see a single play of that match-up. But I’ve watched the bleacher highlight reel more times than I can count. And, let me go on record by saying this: Don’t mess with an Alabama momma bear or her cub and then be taken aback when she tries to maul you.

At some point during the game, trash-talking between the two teams’ respective fan bases went from “our team’s better than your team” to rage-induced “I-will-kill-you-in-your-sleep” madness.

Lucky for us, the footage was all captured on camera.

Then someone released this parody:

And my personal favorite:

According to Yellowhammer, the mom shown in the video – Michelle Prichett – had this to say about the incident.

“Everyone’s making me look like such a bad guy,” she said. “What I did was probably not the thing to do. But they were taunting us. They began by going after me. But then they crossed the line and started taunting my 16-year-old son.”

She also went on record saying she was not intoxicated.

WHAT?! THIS CHICK ACTED LIKE THIS STONE COLD SOBER?!!

I’ll try keep my thoughts brief.

Was she out of control? Yes.

Did she likely do some damage to the reputation of Alabama football faithful? I’d say yes to that too.

Is her family embarrassed? I would imagine so.

But I’m going to be honest. There’s only one thing that gets my blood pumping more than a mom in bedazzled jeans barking like a ravenous dog…and that’s a bunch of drunk college boys who think it’s fun to talk trash about how awesome THEY are. And, by THEY, I am referring to the team of athletes they worship.

I do not condone her behavior. She gives all of us moms a bad rap by mere affiliation. But part of me laughs every time I see the little guy in the white shirt and faded maroon jeans duck for cover when he realizes shit’s about to get real.

I honestly hope I am never involved in an altercation like this. I love my kids deeply and I’d have a serious issue with anyone who goes after them. But they need to fight their own battles.

However, I’d like to make it perfectly clear that, if I’m ever caught on tape going completely ballistic, please overlay Welcome to the Jungle onto my fight footage.

Written by Heidi Woodard

In College, Crazy, Guest Blog, Just for Fun, Shame , , , , ,
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I’ve lost and gained an identity through motherhood

June 24, 2013

A professional photographer recently came to my work and took head shots of some of us.

Rewind nearly 15 years ago and you’ll see a vastly different work photo that a younger me posed for when I was bright and shiny and straight out of college.

The difference in those two pictures is striking.

1999 Heidi

I’m fresh and fluffy as a 20-some year old. Apparently, color photography had not been invented yet in the late 90s.

2013 Heidi

Note to self: I don’t care how early the photo session is scheduled…Do your hair. This mugshot proves it’s possible to look old and like a small boy simultaneously.

My life has changed dramatically as I evolved from a newly married full-time worker with more free time than I knew what to do with into a full-time professional who co-manages the schedules of three incredibly active children, who freelance writes on the side, blogs for fun, and battles with guilt that I’m not fully meeting anyone’s expectations.

The me of 1999 had time to do my hair, wore a nicely tailored suit (likely the only one I owned), and donned a genuinely relaxed smile. Don’t get me wrong…I still looked ridiculous, but the final product took hours upon hours of prep work.

The me of 2013 looks like I’ve given up on sleep, my hair, and my femininity in general. I take every chance I get to talk about my glory years of playing softball back in college. Boy do I look the part in this snapshot.

And don’t misinterpret that last statement as a slam on female athletes. It’s meant to be funny. My former teammates are laughing their butts off right now shaking their heads in agreement because they know I could probably snag a coaching job right now based on that mugshot alone.

The me “then” yearned to make her mark in corporate America. She thought she’d travel to far-away places with her husband. She hung out with her friends and stayed in shape without thinking about it. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to be when she grew up.

The me “now” is focused on cranking out her daily work with no egotistical expectations involved. She chooses sleep over vanity, considers staying at the Holiday Inn a vacation, and apologizes to friends for never having time to hang out. She still has no idea what she wants to be when she grows up.

I fully recognize this is just a busy time in our lives as a family. This beautifully written post reminds me to cherish these years as they will be gone far too soon.

The me “now,” although different than the type of person I thought I would be when I was young and naive, is fabulously frazzled — slicked back pony tail and all.

Some events from my life that have made me stop and reflect recently:

  • My daughter has a dress that she knows is my favorite. I told her I would never give it away. We talked about how someday, if she’s lucky, she might have a daughter who can wear that same dress.
  • My middle child, who has struggled throughout the summer at hitting a baseball, smacked a line drive into right center field to help his team secure a come-from-behind victory. He got to feel what it’s like to rise up to a challenge.
  • A night out with my oldest. I love that he’s turning into a young man who’s interested in sharing his opinions with me…even if they’re the polar opposite of mine.
  • I got to read a handwritten thank you card from one of my son’s teammates to my husband, thanking him for being an awesome coach.
perfect little dress

The perfect little dress.

Created by Heidi Woodard

In Just for Fun, Kids, Memories, Reflection, Shame , , , , , , , , , , ,
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