Rich Dance Moms in Convertible BMWs

((Okay, first off... I can't get the new url.  So I guess it will be staying how it is for awhile until I can think of something else to change it to.  Sorry.))

Now really, there are no types of people on this planet who are more self-righteous, rude, and downright nasty than middle-aged dance moms who drive convertible BMWs.  You know the kind.  The mothers of all the popular girls at school who wear makeup in the 5th grade, have 'boyfriends' in 6th, think they're better than you all through middle school, and let boys do some innapropriate stuff to them in the hallways in high school.  Oh, and freak out when anyone isn't straight because God forbid!!  The person could make a move on them!  (As if they have any interest in those freaks.)
Anyway, my high school cross country team has regularly scheduled practices 4 times a week.  We meet at the school, run, and then do push-ups, sit ups, and other things like that when we get back.  We're near one of the main entrances, but we're always polite about it.  You know, leaving a wide path in case someone needs to get through, staying on the very edges of the pavement, that sort of thing.  Not bothering anyone.
Well, this week, there's some sort of national dance competition taking place and competitors have been practicing in the high school cafeteria, just beyond the doors where xc meets.  Which isn't surprising, lots of things take place there.  It's a big school.  Most of the time the people are very courteous.
Unlike the dancers and their moms, who think that, just because they rented out the cafeteria for a week, they now own the school.  Both of our coaches had to leave about 10 minutes early, so they left Elizabeth, the team captain, in charge.  The second Elizabeth was left in charge, who would come out but a rude dance mom that probably drives a BMV convertible?  (Or something like that.  You know.  Sporty and expensive?)
She walked through the perfectly wide path we'd left and stopped at Elizabeth and said in a not-very-nice tone, "Are you in charge?"
"Yes, I am now," Elizabeth said, "the coaches just left."
"Oh.  Well.  Can you get your girls to move off the pavement here?  It's making the dancers feel awkward when they have to walk through you guys.  People paid thousands of dollars to be here and it's not fair to them when they have to feel uncomfortable walking through you guys."
Elizabeth just blinked.  "Oh.  Uh, okay."
The dance mom didn't even thank her or anything, just went back inside.  Therefore, we were effectively booted from our regular place at a regularly scheduled practice, like we didn't have as much right to it as the too-cool-for-you dancers, because their rich, too-cool-for-you parents had paid money to be there and they shouldn't have to deal with these people who attend the school invading their sacred practice.
Hello.  We attend this public school.  We pay taxes for this public school.  There is a sports entry fee for this public school.  I'm sorry you don't like us being here, but we were here first, and if anything have more right to this place than you rich snobs.  And you know what?  Maybe it's awkward for us to have to deal with your slutty 8 year old daughters walking around in 3-inch heels, crop tops, and more makeup than most 30-year-olds combined.  And why should your kids feel uncomfortable?  There's plenty of room for them, and anyway, they aren't the ones doing their push-ups and ab work out there.  But we just moved, because we are decent people and don't want to make a fuss with people who think they're entitled.  But when we found a new spot, even Elizabeth didn't mind that we were talking about the lady's nastiness behind her back and she's normally really sweet and kind.
We have practice tomorrow, which is the day of their dance competition.  I hope it's at the same exact time as cross country.  We need our revenge.  Today there was talk of laying on the ground, not moving, completely in their way.  I wonder if we'll do something if given the chance.

ONE WEEK NOTICE

In one week, I am going to change my domain name (link) to: ramblingsofateenageweirdo.blogspot.com
If I can't get this link I'll tell you in a week and come up with a different one.

Shin Splints!!!

A few weeks ago, I posted about how excited I was that I was finally going to be able to do cross country this year.

How quickly excitement dwindles.

Oh, don't get me wrong; I'm still super excited to run.  I love running and I have (had, I guess...) ambitions to be in the top 20 runners on my team.  This would be a big accomplishment, since there are 110-120 runners on the team.  I'm probably somewhere between 30 and 40 right now.  I was doing really well though.  Pushing myself, going a little faster every time.

Even though 2 weeks ago, after the second practice, my shins were starting to hurt.

At first, it was easy enough to ignore.  I figured I was just sore and it wasn't a big deal, so I kept pushing myself.  But they kept recurring, and by last week my shins also hurt during the half-mile warm up run, and for the first 5 minutes or so of th emain run.  They were also worse afterwards, and hurt for longer and just felt weak.

...I have shin splints.  Go me.  They're not quite bad enough that I can't run, so far my coach's advice has been, "They're common, and yours aren't bad enough that you have to stop, so if you rest enough and ice them and take care of it, you should be able to run through them at just a little less than your normal intensity."  Maybe I'm whining and should just get over it, but it's really upsetting me because I wanted top 20.  And now I can't push myself as hard, so the top 20 are going to be set in stone and I won't be able to catch up.  And it's a constant reminder, because even now after 12 hours of practice being over they still don't feel right.  Sorry for being such a downer in this post, I really try not to be.  I just can't imagine what people with worse shin splints go through.