why we're calling our baby Hero.

When we didn't know if we were having a boy or a girl, I was calling our little baby "Bean." Chips didn't want anything to do with that at all (one, it sounds puny and two, he or she may end up like Mr. Bean). And since we still didn't know, we really couldn't pick out names yet. So we thought, okay, let's at least have a nickname ready. 

If it could have something to do with the baby's real name later on, that would be great. But if not, well, case-in-point there's "Chips" which if you knew his real name would beg the question "now where did that come from?" Did we want the same for our kid? Well, curiosity is always a great conversation starter. 

Okay so here's what we knew: the baby is due December. If you backtrack, that would make him or her a March baby. A Bataan Death March baby to be exact! 

One night during dinner, Chips was wearing his BDM finisher's shirt. And I just said, why don't we call him (or her) Hero? It would work either way. And I loved how it just brings us back to how incredible that race was for Team Chips. Hero. That's what we're nick-naming our little one.

So now we know that we're having a girl. And we talk to her and call her Hero. We haven't completely decided on what her real (full) name would be yet, but for sure, our Hero's going to be a feisty little ball of cuteness. Who knows, maybe she'll even grow up to be a runner like her daddy.

will he love me more if i ran?

A couple of ladies shared this link on Facebook, which happened to drop on my wall while I was online.  It's a blog entry from renowned runner-blogger Jaymie Pizarro aka The Bull Runner.  The entry was entitled Date a Girl Who Runs.

I read it.  It was very well-crafted.  A brilliant unfolding of insight and words.  And halfway thru, it got me confused.  Because I really didn't know what to make of myself.  Maybe I should look at it the other way.  Replace female pronouns with male ones.  Because really, I not only dated a guy who runs, I married one.

Somehow it didn't make me feel better.  Especially when it came to the part discussing the "never let her go" and the train-togethers and the getting married to a girl who runs.  The beauty of that entry was that it made perfect sense.  Thru my husband, I had the opportunity to know a lot of running couples.  Some of the girls even doing better than their other halves.  Some following suit and training for the insanity that their husbands/boyfriends operate in.

I cut back to the day when the hubby was browsing thru friend's profiles and congratulating them for pacing their wives who ran their first mary's on the TBR Dream Marathon.  He was so ecstatic that he got this second-hand running high.  He was looking at their times and couldn't believe how these women did so well.  He was extremely happy and proud for them.

Which made me think, really.  Okay, I will not hide the insecurity.  Am I writing this defensively?  Maybe.  Is it a bit of oversharing?  Perhaps.  I'll be honest.  It's a bit of thinking that happens once in a while, when I remember how different we are.  And for as long as we're together, we'll just be that way.

She will never force your children to run, but they will learn to love it when they see her passion for running. She will make living a healthy, active life easy, natural, and best of all, fun. Expect a lot of laughter, sweat, and sports beans. Running will not be a sport, but it will be a way of life for you and your children.  You will never run alone.

Hmm.  I can't imagine having that.  I mean, I like sports beans.  They're sweet and they give that jolly zap.  But I don't think I'll have them because I need them for some athletic training.  

Which leads me to wonder about our "different" moments.  Like every time that he tells me to do one more round, or to just get out of the house and jog, to do something other than be on the computer; each time he does that, does he wish I was a sportier girl?  Every time he shows annoyance to why I don't understand that it would be better if I jogged without music so I could listen to my body; each time that  my stubbornness renders me totally uncoachable, does he feel regret? Would he be happier with someone who's not a couch potato, a shopaholic, a paper-hoarder who likes to take brewed coffee extremely slowly?

I take a sip from my coffee, which has been sitting by my computer screen for around 30 minutes.  Its warmth has almost escaped the mug.  I scroll up, see the sappy title, and my fingers threaten to use the Command+A+Del sequence.  The little blinking line taunts me, as it awaits my decision.  And in a fit of hearing Lady Gaga stomping away singing Born this Way (fittingly) on a music channel, I decide to let all this drama known to the world.

Because even if I'm not the girl who runs, I am the girl who blogs.  And I am the girl who reads.  I am the girl who is many things that may not be running and I'm sure at least one of those things was reason enough for my guy who runs to date me and marry me.  If love was already unconditional, then it wouldn't be right to think of even demanding more.

Now let's publish this thing.

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