This summer, I have been cataloging and capturing the moments on "film"...at least, I've been taking a lot of pictures. So I haven't had a need to write...
Saturday, August 20, 2011
remembered...forgot
Monday, May 2, 2011
The Sacrificing of the Race Virgins
At the beginning of this year (NOT a resolution. I don't make those), I decided to make some changes in my lifestyle for health purposes. A few friends had done the Couch to 5K program with success in weight loss and in strength. I was unsure for myself, having never run before (and having been the kid who cheats during gym class and says I've run 4 laps when I've really run 3), but I figured that I didn't have anything to lose, except, well, maybe weight.
The program is done over 9 weeks, starting with intervals that are more walking than running. I decided that my "goal" was to not only finish the program, but to compete in a 5k race when I was finished.
I started in January, an optimal time in which to start running in Michigan. Luckily, I have a treadmill, but I was worried about running outside for the actual race. I found one that would give me enough training time, plus some for outside training. April 30. That MY day.
I blazed through the C25K, having only a few "bad" runs, and never having to repeat a week. At 6 weeks, you are scheduled to run for 20 minutes straight. A feat I had never accomplished. When I got near the end and was losing steam, Ryan said to me, "You pushed out three babies with no drugs! You can run a measly 20 minutes!" And I could. At that moment, I realized my body was STRONG. It had done some amazing things, even when I didn't think I was strong.
After completing the program, I ran outside a few times. Unfortunately, this was the coldest start of Spring in, oh, EVER, and continued to snow well into April. I started to panic. When I was able to really begin training outside, I realized that my neighbor and surrounding areas were HILLY. Now, I obviously had noticed this before, especially when I moved here at 15. I had been an avid biker in my old town, biking practically everywhere. In Romeo? Solid hills. All up. It is NOT easy to do. I got a little discouraged. Race day Loomed.
All along, I had dealt with this little shin "issue". But as soon as I started running outside, it got bad. The day after one particularly long run I couldn't walk. So I spent the (insane amount of) money to get new shoes. Two weeks before my race. So I had break in a new pair of shoes, heal my shin splints and train for a race, all at the same time, all seemingly counterproductive.
The day before the race I went to pick up my race packet. I wasn't sure what to do and I didn't want to look like an idiot. I was a Race Virgin, after all! But fortunately, almost all of the runners I have encountered have been MORE than helpful in getting me started. They all seem to want to have another one in their ranks. I was nervous about my shin and my shoes. I didn't sleep that night.
Our entire family got up at 6 am (amazing for Maddie, let me say. With NO complaining. This is how I know she loves me). We got ready and Cheryl drove over to join us. My mother-in-law was a Race Virgin too, so we decided to do it together. It was a clear, bright, COLD morning. We were a little unsure about where to be for the start of the race, but The Race was a virgin too, this was all very new.
They sang the national anthem, we started slowly toward the large red balloon starting line. And then; we were running.
It was crowded at first, but we passed some and were passed by others. Soon we got into an even pace. I was amazed at how easy it could be when you weren't winded after the first quarter mile due to hills. We ran some, we walked some. It felt amazing to see all those people with the common goal, a common struggle, striving for the same finish line. Cheryl and I made it all the way together, ending at 36:02.
I had no time 'goal', I just wanted to get through it. I knew I could, and the nagging doubts in my head were silly. Yes, my shin hurt. My shoes were fine. I didn't die.
I want to do it again!
 |
| Me, Cheryl, Ben and Maddie after the race. |
The program is done over 9 weeks, starting with intervals that are more walking than running. I decided that my "goal" was to not only finish the program, but to compete in a 5k race when I was finished.
I started in January, an optimal time in which to start running in Michigan. Luckily, I have a treadmill, but I was worried about running outside for the actual race. I found one that would give me enough training time, plus some for outside training. April 30. That MY day.
I blazed through the C25K, having only a few "bad" runs, and never having to repeat a week. At 6 weeks, you are scheduled to run for 20 minutes straight. A feat I had never accomplished. When I got near the end and was losing steam, Ryan said to me, "You pushed out three babies with no drugs! You can run a measly 20 minutes!" And I could. At that moment, I realized my body was STRONG. It had done some amazing things, even when I didn't think I was strong.
After completing the program, I ran outside a few times. Unfortunately, this was the coldest start of Spring in, oh, EVER, and continued to snow well into April. I started to panic. When I was able to really begin training outside, I realized that my neighbor and surrounding areas were HILLY. Now, I obviously had noticed this before, especially when I moved here at 15. I had been an avid biker in my old town, biking practically everywhere. In Romeo? Solid hills. All up. It is NOT easy to do. I got a little discouraged. Race day Loomed.
All along, I had dealt with this little shin "issue". But as soon as I started running outside, it got bad. The day after one particularly long run I couldn't walk. So I spent the (insane amount of) money to get new shoes. Two weeks before my race. So I had break in a new pair of shoes, heal my shin splints and train for a race, all at the same time, all seemingly counterproductive.
The day before the race I went to pick up my race packet. I wasn't sure what to do and I didn't want to look like an idiot. I was a Race Virgin, after all! But fortunately, almost all of the runners I have encountered have been MORE than helpful in getting me started. They all seem to want to have another one in their ranks. I was nervous about my shin and my shoes. I didn't sleep that night.
Our entire family got up at 6 am (amazing for Maddie, let me say. With NO complaining. This is how I know she loves me). We got ready and Cheryl drove over to join us. My mother-in-law was a Race Virgin too, so we decided to do it together. It was a clear, bright, COLD morning. We were a little unsure about where to be for the start of the race, but The Race was a virgin too, this was all very new.
They sang the national anthem, we started slowly toward the large red balloon starting line. And then; we were running.
It was crowded at first, but we passed some and were passed by others. Soon we got into an even pace. I was amazed at how easy it could be when you weren't winded after the first quarter mile due to hills. We ran some, we walked some. It felt amazing to see all those people with the common goal, a common struggle, striving for the same finish line. Cheryl and I made it all the way together, ending at 36:02.
I had no time 'goal', I just wanted to get through it. I knew I could, and the nagging doubts in my head were silly. Yes, my shin hurt. My shoes were fine. I didn't die.
I want to do it again!
Monday, March 21, 2011
In the quiet of this new spring morning
Nature is awakening.
Sounds of life where cold darkness reigned.
The night rains have washed away all traces of Winter
The wind and thunder hastening its departure.Trees are remembering their purpose,
Yellow buds push thier heads though half-frozen earth,
Demanding attention.
Reminding us of the promise of renewal.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
I should rename my blog to "Life With Ben"
This kid is something else. I can't even remember the first "Ben-ism" because there are so many and he started saying them so young. I just never know what to expect.
Bennett has inherited all the quirkiest things about his father and I. Every obsessive tendency, every overly critical rage induced rant. He looks just like his father, so I'm completely head over heels, especially when he gives me that squinty-eyed grin.
What kind of kid has a cookie for a best friend and the awesomest toy ever is a "chicken plunger?" (read: turkey baster).
We have a a few challenging weeks recently. Suddenly, Ben is full of the "I know better than you's" and I want to flush him down the toilet. No, your show is NOT more important than breakfast. I don't care if you want to play Mario, you've been playing for 4 hours and 36 minutes and it's time to STOP! (times exaggerated). I was baffled by these times of "everything I do has a better reason than yours" until I asked his father to help out by doing the dishes.
"Well, you know," he says with a cocking of his neck that I haven't seen before a MILLION times. He might as well do Ben's tisk noise when he's making a point as well.
"I can't find one of my slippers, so I have a hard time doing household chores." WHHHAAATTTT?? ARE YOU FOUR??
"But my sock will get wet and that bothers me."
I totally get it now.
Poor Ben also has what is referred to the "Trombley Temper". When things aren't going his way, he has a tendency to lash out with shaking and "AAAARRRRRRRHHHHH!!!"-ing.
"Itriedtodothisthingbutit'sbad and IT'S NOT LETTING MEEEE!!"
To my future daughter-in-law; I'm sorry. I have tried as best as I could, but nature wins out every time. Sadly, my children were cursed by their grandmother before I even made an appearance. Maybe YOU can stop the cycle. Just don't have a boy second, I'm begging you.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
What Is Unsaid
As I stood near the coffee table at church today, an acquantaince of mine walked up to fill her cup. Her son committed suicide last week. I had never met him. My head swam for a second trying to find the right word...but none came. Finally, I greeted her and told her I was sorry for her loss. "I know, there aren't any right words to say, so I'll say I love you". To me, that sounded awkward, but she replied that was a great thing to say. I told her we had been and would continue to pray for her, and we parted.
I've been thinking about our exchange, and the words we use when we are faced with death. We're ALL touch by death, our parents, grandparents, children, friends; none of us are immune. Death is one of the most intimate parts of life, the thing that came make you the most raw. How are we able to comfort one another? The person who is gone is not sad or unhappy. In fact, they are in the Kingdom of Heaven surrounded by love and light. While in our grief, we are perhaps feeling sorry for ourselves, or feeling sorrow for the ones left behind. You can tell them that you're sorry, that you understand, but each of us feels and experiences grief so differently. The last thing you want to do is offend, or bring up pain. The words hang in the air, but each is afraid to say them, afraid of the hurt they might cause.
Though the friend is not someone I know well, we are connected. We are mothers, we are women, we are sisters, we are wives. We have the same faith to lean on. I do love her. Perhaps that's all I could say to let her know that we won't forget her son, and that her loss wouldn't be in vain.
I looked at my sons when I found out about hers, and wondered about him as a baby, how she held him and loved him. About how he played with his cars and toys at 4, like my son. Where had he taken a wrong turn? What were the words he needed to hear? I pray she finds the peace he couldn't.
I've been thinking about our exchange, and the words we use when we are faced with death. We're ALL touch by death, our parents, grandparents, children, friends; none of us are immune. Death is one of the most intimate parts of life, the thing that came make you the most raw. How are we able to comfort one another? The person who is gone is not sad or unhappy. In fact, they are in the Kingdom of Heaven surrounded by love and light. While in our grief, we are perhaps feeling sorry for ourselves, or feeling sorrow for the ones left behind. You can tell them that you're sorry, that you understand, but each of us feels and experiences grief so differently. The last thing you want to do is offend, or bring up pain. The words hang in the air, but each is afraid to say them, afraid of the hurt they might cause.
Though the friend is not someone I know well, we are connected. We are mothers, we are women, we are sisters, we are wives. We have the same faith to lean on. I do love her. Perhaps that's all I could say to let her know that we won't forget her son, and that her loss wouldn't be in vain.
I looked at my sons when I found out about hers, and wondered about him as a baby, how she held him and loved him. About how he played with his cars and toys at 4, like my son. Where had he taken a wrong turn? What were the words he needed to hear? I pray she finds the peace he couldn't.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Thinking
I've been thinking about how I don't have much to say. I like to blog about my (limited) experiences, but it seems that in every blog I read, they have something to blog about. This one has an autistic son and a daughter with a brain hernia. Another has money problems. Alcoholic, abusive parents. I almost feel as if I don't even deserve to be reading these people's stories, as my life so far has been pretty uneventful. I have been blessed with so much, a loving family, children who are well, a stable roof over my head, a husband whom I love and respect (mostly) and reciprocates the feelings. I am, in every way, living my own dream. I do not know what I have done to deserve such a life.
On the other hand I always feel as if the other shoe is going to drop. I am constantly anticipating a disaster. Why? So I can be prepared? So I'm not blindsided? I hate living in fear. I want to live my life joyfully.
Last night the children got their teeth cleaned at the dentist. The hygenist was pregnant at the same time I was, but due later, in August. She had her daughter one month after Owen was born, at 23 weeks, due to Placental Abruption. The baby is ok, but has had to have numerous surgeries and was in the hospital for 5 months. Last night I had to bring Owen because Ryan had band practice. There I sat, with my perfectly formed, perfectly healthy, perfect delivery baby. I felt ashamed. I wanted to take back every complaint I had ever made.
I have tried to take the time to get back to myself. I go to book group once a month, I Zumba my buns off with a friend one a week. I want to be a better person, I want to give back the blessings I have been given. Now if the time to start.
On the other hand I always feel as if the other shoe is going to drop. I am constantly anticipating a disaster. Why? So I can be prepared? So I'm not blindsided? I hate living in fear. I want to live my life joyfully.
Last night the children got their teeth cleaned at the dentist. The hygenist was pregnant at the same time I was, but due later, in August. She had her daughter one month after Owen was born, at 23 weeks, due to Placental Abruption. The baby is ok, but has had to have numerous surgeries and was in the hospital for 5 months. Last night I had to bring Owen because Ryan had band practice. There I sat, with my perfectly formed, perfectly healthy, perfect delivery baby. I felt ashamed. I wanted to take back every complaint I had ever made.
I have tried to take the time to get back to myself. I go to book group once a month, I Zumba my buns off with a friend one a week. I want to be a better person, I want to give back the blessings I have been given. Now if the time to start.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Just when you think you know it all...or a least something...Ah, forget it.
So after having two kids, you have a few tricks up your sleeve, a few tools in your belt. Then you have Number Three and God thinks it's funny that you think you know what's going on.
This week has been momentous in the life of The Babe. He has gotten tooth #2, learned how to crawl AND how to pull up to his feet. He has been very close to crawling for some time now, he just hasn't been able to put it all together. Who woulda thought that something as simple as a stuck toy would make the gears click?
Now that he's officially mobile, he has decided that he's going to venture out into the big, wide world: The Kitchen. He only crossed the threshold into the kitchen twice before, even though he could army-crawl very well. Today he is my shadow at the sink.
At our old house, there was a small, definite path to and from the kitchen. One gate and three closed doors later, the Family Room was a baby-safe area. Here at the new house, the space is slightly too large for a gate, so here comes Babe. Luckily, there is a pocket door at the top of the stairs, so I don't have to worry about that.
I remember Maddie learning how to crawl. I got home from work and Ryan showed me mauled pink rubber ducky. He had let her chew it as a "treat" when she would crawl correctly. He was SO PROUD! It took her longer to crawl than Owen, maybe 8 or 9 months because she could roll everywhere so well that she really didn't care to learn. I don't know where she gets her stubbornness from. Owen is at the age where I can't remember anything from Ben. I was in a cast and miserable and I know I wrote some stuff down, but poor kid, mommy was not in her right mind. I do know that he was earlier, closer to 6 months. Owen splits the difference of everything Maddie and Ben did. Maddie got her tooth at 6 months, Ben at 8, Owen at 7. I could have predicted it.
The Babe is also not sleeping quite through the night. His sibs were by and before 6 months. So I'm still feeling the sleep deprivation. He actually slept better at 3 months!
He doesn't eat baby food. Nothing pureed or mushy. I felt bad about not making it myself for Maddie and Ben, and when I do make it for Owen, the kid won't eat it. Huh. So much for Mommy guilt. He also learned his pincer grasp on Thursday. Now he can feed himself, which is awesome. Here we come, Cheerioland!!
It's amazing how cool it is to watch something you made grow into a person. It's frustrating, challenging, exhausting, but at the end of 18 years, maybe we'll get a break. And hopefully we've done a good enough job that we won't have to worry. Or not too much. Who'm I kidding? I will never stop worrying!!
This week has been momentous in the life of The Babe. He has gotten tooth #2, learned how to crawl AND how to pull up to his feet. He has been very close to crawling for some time now, he just hasn't been able to put it all together. Who woulda thought that something as simple as a stuck toy would make the gears click?
Now that he's officially mobile, he has decided that he's going to venture out into the big, wide world: The Kitchen. He only crossed the threshold into the kitchen twice before, even though he could army-crawl very well. Today he is my shadow at the sink.
At our old house, there was a small, definite path to and from the kitchen. One gate and three closed doors later, the Family Room was a baby-safe area. Here at the new house, the space is slightly too large for a gate, so here comes Babe. Luckily, there is a pocket door at the top of the stairs, so I don't have to worry about that.
I remember Maddie learning how to crawl. I got home from work and Ryan showed me mauled pink rubber ducky. He had let her chew it as a "treat" when she would crawl correctly. He was SO PROUD! It took her longer to crawl than Owen, maybe 8 or 9 months because she could roll everywhere so well that she really didn't care to learn. I don't know where she gets her stubbornness from. Owen is at the age where I can't remember anything from Ben. I was in a cast and miserable and I know I wrote some stuff down, but poor kid, mommy was not in her right mind. I do know that he was earlier, closer to 6 months. Owen splits the difference of everything Maddie and Ben did. Maddie got her tooth at 6 months, Ben at 8, Owen at 7. I could have predicted it.
The Babe is also not sleeping quite through the night. His sibs were by and before 6 months. So I'm still feeling the sleep deprivation. He actually slept better at 3 months!
He doesn't eat baby food. Nothing pureed or mushy. I felt bad about not making it myself for Maddie and Ben, and when I do make it for Owen, the kid won't eat it. Huh. So much for Mommy guilt. He also learned his pincer grasp on Thursday. Now he can feed himself, which is awesome. Here we come, Cheerioland!!
It's amazing how cool it is to watch something you made grow into a person. It's frustrating, challenging, exhausting, but at the end of 18 years, maybe we'll get a break. And hopefully we've done a good enough job that we won't have to worry. Or not too much. Who'm I kidding? I will never stop worrying!!
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