Running Rules

Remember what I said in my last post about not liking running? Forget about it. Today, I love it!!!!!!!!

Last year I finished my first 5k in 39 minutes, 24 seconds. Today, I crushed that time at a speedy 34 minutes 45 seconds. Nearly 11 minute miles. Oh ya, baby!

I stared the race with a friend who planned to run it in less than 32 minutes, so she bacame my dangling carrot. She was wearing a bright pink shirt and if I could just keep her in my sites, I knew I'd be rockin' that course.

At the 2 mile marker, someone called out the time, "23 minutes!" What?!?!? Never in my wildest dreams! Based on my usual pace I was blowing my usual pace out of the water.

I was very winded and had to take several short walking breaks during the last mile. Still, I knew I was going to beat my time because my pink-shirted friend stayed in my sites until there was only a half mile to go.

I was chatting with a 72 year old woman on the course during the last mile. She kept going while I took a walking break and beat me by a minute. That does not bother me at all. This year, I actually stayed with the pack or runners, even if it was at the back. I felt good, I ran fast... for me.

My husband promised to be at the finish line with our kids. When I hit that home stretch, I knew I'd see them. I found a brand new energy and no longer felt winded. When I saw them, I easily picked up the pace. My baby was saying, "Mama, mama" and pointing at me. My boys were clapping and cheering. My husband was smiling from ear to ear.

After I passed them, I looked to the finish line and the race clock. Another "What?" moment occurred. It was 34 minutes and 20-something seconds. Holy cow! I knew I could break 35 minutes. I suddenly was able to sprint to the finish.

That was an amazing experience. I feel so satisfied. I can't wait to run again. I love running!

Running Realism

I am a runner. I run. I didn't used to be. Specifically, I was not a runner until one fateful Christmas when my sister and I thought of the brilliant idea of running a 5k together. I bought new shoes (a month later) and I started to run.

It was a lot harder than I thought. I didn't really like it, but I had a goal... the 5k in June. My sister would be home for summer break and we would complete our first 5k race, side by side.

By May, I was able to run for 20 minutes straight as I pondered the positive home pregnancy test from that morning. Even thought I had doctor clearance, the baby soon took over my body and the 5k plan was "right out!"

Somehow I revived the goal and trained enough t0 complete my first 5k less than 5 months after the baby was born. I was by far the slowest runner at 39+ minutes (half way through the race, all runners were so far ahead of me, they were out of sight), but I never walked.

This year, carrying 15 less pounds and fully recovered from pregnancy, I was certain I would blast that slow time out of the water. Well, the race is tomorrow, and in the last 2 months, I've run, let's see, 1, 2, 3, 4... ya, that's it, four times. Three of which were in the last week. Now I just hope to run the whole thing. Who cares about the time?

Here's the weirdest part of the whole thing. I don't really like running very much. After the first 10 minutes, I don't like how I feel when I run. My right hip always hurts for days after and it causes sciatic pain to flare up on my left side. Plus, there's the toe pain and the headaches.

I'm not complaining. I don't have to run. I know that. I've just been trying to figure out why I do it. I think to me it has to do with pushing myself. Running represents me taking ownership of my body, my mind, my soul and pushing all aspects of me to be more capable than I thought possible, healthier than before, stronger and more determined.

Pushing through something unpleasant for all the positive effects is something very important to me these last few years, and especially now. So, I will keep running, certainly not because I like it, but because it is one of the most positive influences in my life these days.

I am a runner. I run.

Canon Clicks

I got a new camera, I got a new camera...

Okay, it's actually 2-3 years old. I bought it from a friend who has also been developing her profile as a professional photographer. She is upgrading, so her loss is my gain. And, if this camera was decent enough for her to start her own business, I know it's decent enough for me!

I've wanted a Canon EOS camera for around 15 years, and now I have one. I only have the kit lens and still... looky what I can do....












Loving everything about having this awesome camera.

Yay me!

Calgon (or in my case - work), Take Me Away

I've been a mom for over 11 years. It is a 24/7 job. Even when I sleep, I am on call. My cell phone is always with me in case there is an emergency at school. My schedule usually revolves around the kids. Most of the things I do when I am at home have to do with them: cleaning, cooking, laundry, organization, communication. It really never stops and it is always revolving. I am ALWAYS a mom, on duty.

I've worked at our personal business out of the home for the whole duration of my motherhood. I'd like to say that has given me something of my own, but it hasn't. It is my husband's business primarily. Even though it has been our family's sole livelihood for 11 years, it has failed to provide any substantial fulfillment or respite for me. Seriously, I can see and hear everything in our house from our office. That is hardly a break.

And now, for the first time in these 11 years, I have a job out of the home. The job does not relate to my husband and it is not 2 feet away from my mothering duties. It takes me away, almost like a Calgon bath.
I keep myself very busy at my new job. I'd hate to say I am really taking a break, because I work hard and try to make sure I am worthwhile to the non-profit organization that has put its trust in me. Still, it is a world of my own, separate from my children and my family. It really feels like a wonderful break.

It's hard for me to figure out why I was ever hesitant to go back to work. Yes, I miss my baby when I am working during the day, and we've had to reorganize how our family accomplishes chores, but the payoff is worth it. I'm not even referring to the paycheck. I am referring to my new identity and respite from the Mom-job that never sleeps.

While at work, I do keep my cell phone in my pocket, just in case my husband has a question or the children have an issue at school, but it's my turf, and I love it.

Confused and Not Amused

My life has been in overdrive for about two weeks now. I've been surviving and coping because of adrenaline and caffeine. And sometimes, just not coping.

I broke down, sobbing while driving to the medical clinic this last week. My mother-in-law sat next to me and was none-the-wiser, though my baby girl, in the back seat, was trying to mimic my strange sounds. She noticed.

My mother-in-law had just finished railing into me, telling me I lie and I am going to hell. It wasn't because she used to ever believe that. We've always had a marvelous relationship. It's because she is confused.

A month ago, her doctor, her neurologist, had finally committed to saying that she has "Onset Alzheimer's." But somehow, since then, she has plummeted into the intermediate stages of it. Out of respect for her, I won't even write about most of her struggle these last few weeks.

Today she was adamant that a picture of her, her husband and my husband and brother-in-law as kids, was none of those such people.

I talk with my kids almost every day about their Naana, trying to help them navigate through this rapid change. They can no longer have a conversation with their grandmother because they lack the maturity to redirect, comfort or make some level of sense out of what she is saying. They are losing their grandmother right in front of my eyes. It is breaking my heart.

My mother-in-law speaks of wishing to die every day. She is losing the ability to care for herself in the most basic ways. It is a stomach-turning, stressful reality. Her sons and I are doing all we can, which at this moment is just doing the next thing (because the bigger picture is so overwhelming.) I've realized we were unprepared in almost every way for such a rapid decline.

Sometimes her sons and I feel so overwhelmed we land in our own moments of confusion. But we are pulling together. We are being forced to practice patience beyond what we thought we were capable of. We are leaning on each other. We are communicating continuously. We are sharing encouragement and support. We are being a family, one step at a time.

Conversations

Queen Latifah was on Good Morning America this morning to talk about her new book. She said her favorite chapter was the one about her mother, a teacher. She went on to share that she has many unrelated brothers and sisters who were students of her mom, because her mom took time to notice these kids and have conversations with them.

Conversations, I will now suggest, are paramount in making a difference in people lives. I imagined these lost students of Queen's mother. Many probably had no one in their lives who cared to hear their thoughts, dreams or ideas. What is more discouraging than having no one in your life that cares to know your heart and soul?

I often have to remind myself to stop multi-tasking and look my boys in the eye to hear their new dreams about writing comic books, running a ranch, joining the Air Force, creating new recipes (like dessert pizzas). If I can't stop to listen to that stuff, why would they ever think I would stop to listen about the kids who's offering them drugs, or the pressure they are getting to have sex, or the deep depression they are facing from rejection.

Conversations reach farther than children too. There are so many adults whose hearts are ignored. Simple conversations that show you are interested in what happens in there lives can go a long, long way in healing a broken spirit.

Here's to really listening to the other broken souls of the world. You have a voice and I will listen.

Clean Up! Green Up!

April hosts Arbor Day and Earth Week. That makes for busy, busy days for the community beautification committees of this land (one of which I now work for). Hence, my lack of recent posts and the topic of today.

Our town hosted its own community-wide clean-up event on Saturday. My job was to help facilitate the command post and take pictures. After the official time was over, I went home, and rounded up my kids to hit a parkway that wasn't covered my the morning volunteers. Don't worry, it wasn't slave labor or anything, they practically begged me to go pick up trash.We discovered, just as most of the volunteers had boasted earlier, our town is really clean! We walked (and scootered) for over 45 minutes and filled less than half a trash bag. Still it was a great experience for the kids who definitely have the spirit of community care already. They regularly bring home trash they find on their daily walk home from school. I am so proud.

The next day I was struck with a memory of a my visit to Siberia, Russia a few years ago. We were in a Buryat village for a week, building a playground at a local hospital for children with Tuberculosis, and leading an English camp for many of the local, poverty stricken children. It was heart-wrenching on many levels. And the picture that returned to mind was of the empty lots... filled with trash. There was also garbage in most of the yards and up and down every street.

I don't really have a point here. It is just on my mind. I miss being in Russia and helping in that community, and I am thankful for the wonderful community I live in here.