Little did I know that my January 30th post on Lucy being sick was only the beginning of a three week stretch of illness amongst my kids. What that means is that I did no trail runs during this time. I mean none at all. True to my word, however, I did not freak out or panic. I accepted what inevitably, is life with four kids. Sometimes you just can't train like you want or need to.
But we are all healthy now. There are small miracles that occurred, the biggest being that neither John nor I got sick. Yes, I got a flu shot, but I don't think that matters a bit considering so did 60% of the people who have come down with the flu this winter. We had kids in our bed constantly. We were coughed on continuously, me being in the thick of the battlefield each day, catering to them. I surrendered to the fact that I would be sick. Or at least one of us would. Here we are, 4 days after the last of the kids went back to school and we are both symptom free.
Because of my lapse in training, I have decided to pull out of the Land Between the Lakes trail marathon that I was supposed to do on the 9th of March. Simply put, I'm no where near ready for 26.2 miles on trail. My longest training run to date has been 18 miles and that was on pavement. Yes, I could finish the marathon, but at what cost to training for the 100? This was supposed to be a training trail run, not a push past my limit run. So I have to humbly accept that I will not be medal collecting in March. I love medals :)
Because I have decided not to run, John and I decided it wouldn't be worth the expense to take the trip for Will, who was doing the 23k (14.4 miles). We discussed it and concluded that Will was doing this simply because I happened to be running the marathon. Not because he set a goal to run this particular trail race. We told him and he was disappointed. He really wants to do this. His bleeding heart father is now considering a quick up and back run with him that weekend. As much as I want John home that weekend, I think a real bonding experience is probable as the two of them spend 10 hours in the car together in addition to their time on the trail. It would also be neat for Will to go for an age group award (there is at least one other 14 year old running it). Of course I realize that my visions of bonding are so different than what will likely occur in reality. I imagine long discussions on the meaning of life, God and living with purpose. What will likely happen is that Will is going to have his iPod and headphones on and John will be listening to some Nascar race on his own. The two will only chat when food comes into the mix, as in, they need to stop because they are hungry. But amazingly enough, I also believe this is a bonding experience for a father and son.
When Will was born, my friend and coworker at the time, Kim, was my nurse all through labor and through my delivery. After I delivered and brought my baby boy home, I received a card in the mail from her. I did not think too much at the time about the sweet words she wrote, but as I reflect on Will's life and mine as his mother, her words were eerily prophetic and fitting. She wrote "Watching you grab him and hold him after he was delivered was like watching someone in the middle of the ocean who was drowning, being thrown a life preserver." I remember being overcome with emotion when I saw him for the first time. But I didn't get the analogy. Until now.
If anything in my life has ever forced me to be a better person and live to a higher standard, it is my children. Knowing the enormous responsibility of raising these kids, who really aren't mine, but rather God's, has had a profound effect on me. I mean, who wants to be a crappy babysitter when it is God's kids you are responsible for? Definitely not me.
And with that thought, I leave this blog as St. John's just called to inform me that Jack just threw up and I need to go get him. And so perhaps we are not all healthy yet!
