My dad used to have a saying that drove me crazy. Whenever something went wrong, or physical pain or discomfort was present, he would say the words, "Offer it up for the suffering souls in Purgatory." As a kid, teen and young adult, hearing those words annoyed me tremendously. I used to think, "Sure, dad, I'll happily accept the pain of this nail I just stepped on so that someone I don't even know and never will can get to Heaven. Whatever."
My, my, how things have changed. When it comes to running, there are more times than I can count that I have been struggling, when my dad's voice pops into my head... "Offer it up, Katie", (the name only the two most special men in my life call me). What strength and power those words now have! How much easier it has become to get through some difficult and trying runs when I can turn my own discomfort into something good for someone else. It's nothing I can see or touch, yet I know what power it yields and that brings great strength and happiness in the midst of pain.
On Sunday I went to Columbus because a few people I knew were running the marathon. This is the first time in five years that I have not participated in either the half or full marathon as a registered participant. I love the atmosphere and hype of a marathon and I really love watching the runners. I love to watch their faces and try to guess what is going on physically. I can see strength in the ones that are smiling and I can see many things in the ones that are not. Suttan and I went to run in 3 of our friends that were doing the full. The goal time was 3:45 or under, a time that would land each of them a spot in Boston in 2014. No three runners could be more different in their running histories, yet here they were, towing the line, racing for a common goal together.
After some confusion as to which direction we were actually heading (surprise, surprise... we got a bit mixed up...), we began making our way backwards from mile 26. Our plan was to meet them at mile 20 and hopefully keep them on pace to the finish. We agreed that had any of the 3 fallen behind, one of us would wait for that person and run her in. Because we were late to begin our backward search, we had to run most of it and figured if lucky, we'd meet them at about mile 22.
Along the way, I made a point of looking at the runners. I mean REALLY looking at them and studying what was going on. The end miles are so difficult physically and mentally. If I could have jumped in and hugged each sweaty, salt-crusted, gritty one, I am pretty sure I would have. I have so much admiration for the determined, gutsy runners out there grinding out the last few miles with sheer will power. I have so much sympathy for the ones suffering tremendously. I wanted to call out "Hey I know what you feel like... keep going, you are almost there...", but telling someone at mile 24 that they are almost finished with "2 more miles" is not a always great thing. You might as well tell them they have 30. Two miles is an absolute eternity when you hurt so badly. I hoped that maybe I could just connect with someone's eyes and they would know that I was rooting for them. Sometimes words are not necessary. I wondered who was on pace to finish in their goal time and who was crushed under the weight of missing the mark and feeling physically horrible. In my mind, I called out a thousand times "Offer it up, dude. It'll be so much sweeter that way."
Before long we spotted three matching shirts running towards us. The girls were together... FANTASTIC!!! There wasn't much smiling, but I could recognize relief in their faces upon seeing us. They were well on their way to a strong finish in under their goal time.
After filling their water bottles (I remember aid station workers running toward me at JFK, taking my bottles and having them ready when I ran by. That was a small, but very appreciated gesture), I told them I would run an 8:35 and they just needed to stay close. Well quite frankly, I couldn't tell how I was doing. I couldn't tell if they were fading or I was just running too fast since my Garmin was all over the place. So realizing the girls had time to spare, I just decided to run with them. They couldn't really pick up the pace, but they weren't falling behind either. They each had a different look about them, but all commonly fatigued as only one can be after running that far at that pace.
Within seconds of one another, they each finished in under 3:44. That was a very sweet moment as their faces all turned so quickly from pain and fatigue to joy. I was so grateful to have been part of that.
I am sure people wonder how I feel knowing the number of times I've tried to nail this time and seeing all three of these girls do it so flawlessly. It was even Erin's first marathon. And here is the honest answer...
There was a time when it would have, and did, sting a bit. I am human and it was hard to see what seemed like everyone, get what I wanted so badly. Why was everyone else having these incredible races and why were things falling into place when I was just as capable, yet unable, of getting it? Isn't this how we view so many things in life? With the "It's not fair!" mentality?
I believe the echo of my dad's words over and over have brought on a different, more evolved and more powerful purpose to my running. But it isn't just the echo of those words, but the implementation of them that has transformed me. It is indescribable what happens when you step outside of yourself and just do for others like we are supposed to do. I am thrilled for Jen, Cheryl and Erin. I look forward to the day I can nail that time and join them in Boston (wait... did I just type that? I sure have a lot on my plate next year :)
Thank you dad.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Blink
Life is but a blink in the grand scheme of eternity. It is a passing through from this world to the next, where we will spend forever. My goal is to live my life on earth as if it were a "training ground" (thank you, Tom Ryan) in preparation for my final destination. And you all know how much I looooveeee training!
Apparently Heaven is a place of unimaginable happiness. Anything our hearts and souls desire, becomes a reality in Heaven. I have tried to imagine many times over what this is like. I believe I have come up with my perfect Heaven. Upon arrival at the gates of Heaven, I will be judged. I imagine this to be the most frightening thing I have ever encountered. I imagine myself to be begging for mercy as my life is played in full view... no excuses, no denial of all the wrongs I've committed. They are all right there. But God is so merciful and also accentuates the good things I've done. He knows my soul inside and out and decides that I always TRIED hard to be better and follow Him, no matter the countless times I failed, I was always sorry and asked for forgiveness. It was because I tried that I enter into His kingdom.
I walk through the gates... no wait... GLIDE with my sweet new set of wings. I really don't need legs anymore. They are just decoration now. But the good Lord knows what I like and so I am led to my room. I enter the most glorious room one can ever imagine. It is filled with the finest, most state of the art running gear ever. In the back there is a door that leads to a breathless, beautifully wooded area with running trails as far as the eye can see. There is a knock on my door and it turns out to be Jesus, handing me his running schedule. Turns out that He, too, runs early. And of course, we run the same pace. I am suddenly overcome with emotion and so thankful that I recognized the need to be good on earth because nothing, and I mean NOTHING, could top this moment. But there is more. There are marathons and ultra marathons in Heaven. There are pre-loading pasta dinners and when I arrive at the table, every person that I love who has gone before me is at the table. And now they have all discovered how much they love running (I suppose it is a lot easier in Heaven) and are also planning on running with me.
Do you know the sense of urgency I have to be there some day?
But I have work to do. For starters, every important decision I make must be guided with that goal in mind. The goal to spend eternity with God in Heaven. One of those decisions is what politician to put into office. Do not fool yourselves into thinking morality does not come into play here.
I am pro-life. As a pro-life person, I believe that life begins at conception. I believe the value of a two cell soul has the same value as a 6 year old breathing child. That is what it means to be pro-life. So no wonder it baffles me when I hear self pro-claimed pro-lifers saying they are voting for a president who does not believe the same thing. I have been told I am tunnel visioned. That there is more than one issue at stake. That abortion cannot be the only thing we think about when we vote. Huh? Read what I said... I BELIEVE A TWO CELL SOUL HAS THE SAME VALUE AS A 6 YEAR OLD BREATHING CHILD!! Would the good Lord be ok with me voting for a person who promised me wealth, financial security, free shit, lower taxes, college tuition for my kids and all that other stuff if the stipulation was that it would be legal to kill children, regardless of the reason? I think not. It is not pro-choice people that bother me when it comes to their vote. At least they aren't hypocrites.
I will vote my conscience in order to keep my eye on the prize... running with Jesus. I hope and pray that others do the same. Remember, life is but a blink.
Apparently Heaven is a place of unimaginable happiness. Anything our hearts and souls desire, becomes a reality in Heaven. I have tried to imagine many times over what this is like. I believe I have come up with my perfect Heaven. Upon arrival at the gates of Heaven, I will be judged. I imagine this to be the most frightening thing I have ever encountered. I imagine myself to be begging for mercy as my life is played in full view... no excuses, no denial of all the wrongs I've committed. They are all right there. But God is so merciful and also accentuates the good things I've done. He knows my soul inside and out and decides that I always TRIED hard to be better and follow Him, no matter the countless times I failed, I was always sorry and asked for forgiveness. It was because I tried that I enter into His kingdom.
I walk through the gates... no wait... GLIDE with my sweet new set of wings. I really don't need legs anymore. They are just decoration now. But the good Lord knows what I like and so I am led to my room. I enter the most glorious room one can ever imagine. It is filled with the finest, most state of the art running gear ever. In the back there is a door that leads to a breathless, beautifully wooded area with running trails as far as the eye can see. There is a knock on my door and it turns out to be Jesus, handing me his running schedule. Turns out that He, too, runs early. And of course, we run the same pace. I am suddenly overcome with emotion and so thankful that I recognized the need to be good on earth because nothing, and I mean NOTHING, could top this moment. But there is more. There are marathons and ultra marathons in Heaven. There are pre-loading pasta dinners and when I arrive at the table, every person that I love who has gone before me is at the table. And now they have all discovered how much they love running (I suppose it is a lot easier in Heaven) and are also planning on running with me.
Do you know the sense of urgency I have to be there some day?
But I have work to do. For starters, every important decision I make must be guided with that goal in mind. The goal to spend eternity with God in Heaven. One of those decisions is what politician to put into office. Do not fool yourselves into thinking morality does not come into play here.
I am pro-life. As a pro-life person, I believe that life begins at conception. I believe the value of a two cell soul has the same value as a 6 year old breathing child. That is what it means to be pro-life. So no wonder it baffles me when I hear self pro-claimed pro-lifers saying they are voting for a president who does not believe the same thing. I have been told I am tunnel visioned. That there is more than one issue at stake. That abortion cannot be the only thing we think about when we vote. Huh? Read what I said... I BELIEVE A TWO CELL SOUL HAS THE SAME VALUE AS A 6 YEAR OLD BREATHING CHILD!! Would the good Lord be ok with me voting for a person who promised me wealth, financial security, free shit, lower taxes, college tuition for my kids and all that other stuff if the stipulation was that it would be legal to kill children, regardless of the reason? I think not. It is not pro-choice people that bother me when it comes to their vote. At least they aren't hypocrites.
I will vote my conscience in order to keep my eye on the prize... running with Jesus. I hope and pray that others do the same. Remember, life is but a blink.
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Goodbye Boston
Another attempt come, gone and opportunity missed. I won't recap the whole Air Force Marathon, but simply say the race felt off beginning with mile 7, confirmed with heavy quads by mile 9 and sealed by mile 17, when I dropped off pace. Simply put, I was not fueled despite my best efforts in the 3 days before, the morning of, and during the race. I firmly believe it has everything to do with nerves and very little, if anything to do with training. I would not go back and change a thing about the way I trained. I was ready.
The good news is I am not injured and nothing catastrophic came from me running the full marathon. That is huge. Nothing worse than missing the mark and then coming away with a full blown injury that has you out for 4 months. I am surprisingly not nearly as sore as I figured I would be from practically using my muscles as a fuel source for part of that race. This is good and bad. Good because I feel like I simply just ran a hard long run and with just a few easy days I can continue prepping for the Marine Corp Marathon, which is in 6 weeks. Bad because it leaves questions of: Did I give up too early? Did it get harder than I expected and so mentally I shut the whole race down? Had I really pushed and tried I'd be so depleted and sore I couldn't get down stairs anyway but sideways for a few days. These are the mind tricks that come with reflecting on such an event. I will say that once I realized that I could not get my time, and by could not, I mean COULD NOT GET IT no matter how hard I pushed, I switched to "survival mode". By that I mean, in order for me not to walk off the course at around mile 17, where pushing was not getting me the splits I needed, I had to put myself in another place.... namely, the mental long/hard run place. I once again had to take the horrible feeling of defeat and regroup... or it would have been over. Regrouping meant just running through the discomfort the best way I could. I have done that countless times with long runs and so I knew if I switched my thinking, I could finish with a respectable time. That thinking probably saved me from crashing hard and crawling in with a time well over 4 hours had I tried to maintain marathon pace as long as I could. I was able to maintain a pace of about 9:15-9:30 min/miles with walks at every mile... sometimes 2 walks. I'm telling ya, walking saves your ASS when you have bitten it. The final mile I couldn't squeak out anything faster than a 10:06. I was getting super emotional as I dreaded crossing the mat and seeing John. He'd been tracking me and once again, had nearly the same amount of anxiety over this as I did. Last week, we were both so certain this was in the bag (as a matter of fact, I dreaded crossing the 35k mat, where he was going to see I was off pace. I actually considered going AROUND it!)
The beauty of the race, however, was shown through my sweet friend, Suttan, who I ran the race with. We were aiming for the same time goal. Suttan's qualifying time is a 3:55, but her PR was a 3:48. Her goal was a PR, thus the perfect running/race partner since our time goals were similar. We'd done many training runs together and were in agreement to the race strategy. I am lucky she even wanted to race with me since I told her not to talk to me, look at me or think about me (I get nasty when I don't feel good... I wanted to prepare her:) She pretty much said "No problem, I'll ignore your nasty self, but we will keep each other on pace." It was a fool-proof plan. We agreed that if the other fell off pace, we would just continue racing and not go down with that person. Suttan has had her share of injuries like I have. The last marathon she was able to race was the 2010 Air Force, where she got her then PR. After that, she battled problems with her achilles and calf that made it very hard for her to be ready to race anything. She and I were both healthy and ready for this. We really didn't believe either of us would have a problem.
When I told Suttan at mile 16 or 17 that I needed to switch things up because I was feeling bad, she slowed down. "I'm going to stay with you", she said. I replied, "No way! Please don't, Suttan. You are running strong and able to get your time." I continued to tell her I was fine and I really would be ok. That I could not longer run at pace and I needed to break the race down bit by bit. And so Suttan picked it up again, per my request.
Here is the thing, although we had agreed to go for our time, Suttan was willing to stay with me. To have trained so hard and so cautiously and to be in such prime shape for the race of her life and to offer to stay with me, and mean it, was a glimpse of an incredible kind and giving heart. Suttan wasn't bullshitting... she would have stayed if I asked her to. In fact, the mile she did stay with me, I believe put her just enough off pace to NOT get that 3:44:59 she wanted. Evidenced by her 3:46 finish, she stayed strong and true to race pace for the duration (and if you have ever run the Air Force Marathon, you are familiar with the nice two climbs after mile 21. That race is def not an easy finish). There is no way in HELL I was going to allow her to go down with me. That would have been selfish and unfair of me.
So Suttan, thank you SO MUCH for being such a sweet and funny soul. We are sure to have other races that will be super fun and awesome. I am learning to realize they won't all be that way, but many of them will be.
As for the future? I am sticking to what I wrote many months ago. This was my last marathon where I go into it with BQ as a goal. I am not changing my mind about that. Is that quitting or giving up? I don't think so. My mother was talking a couple of weeks ago about aging gracefully and learning to accept the things that you can't change and being ok with them. I mean REALLY being ok with them. That being able to say "I am not able to do this and that is ok" is letting go of the need to fight internally all the time. I loved that. This is not saying I am not able to qualify or can't run fast enough to qualify. I can. I am capable of that time. But I do know that no matter the months and years spent trying to work on a strong racing mind, racing marathons for a BQ will always yield negative anxiety and that will work against me every time. Probably more so with each failed attempt. So to continue the process of attempting and falling short and feeling bad is just not good for me and ruins the joy of running. I will still run marathons and I will still run them as fast as I can based on how I am feeling
that day. But they will always be fun from now on.
I know many people don't get it. It seems really so silly and dumb that I allow this to take over when the physical capability is there. It will never make sense to a mentally strong marathon racer. But perhaps looking at it in the context of this might help. Think of your greatest weakness and trying to overcome it. Maybe it's how you judge or view other people. Maybe it's the habit of yelling at your kids. And you hate it and you want to change it. And to the calm, peaceful mom or dad it simply makes no sense why you can't just stop. But to you, it's the hardest thing and you are a continual work in progress. You are constantly trying and trying, yet constantly falling short (oh gee, that describes me again!). This is the best comparison I can make. The difference is that with children, you can never stop trying to be a better parent. With marathoning, you can stop beating yourself up for having such a "character flaw". And so that is what I am choosing to do... accepting how I approach a BQ is something I don't want to work at changing anymore. I've made huge advances in mental strength in regard to running over the past 4 years. And quite frankly, I am at peace with exactly where I am.
Time will tell where it gets me.
The good news is I am not injured and nothing catastrophic came from me running the full marathon. That is huge. Nothing worse than missing the mark and then coming away with a full blown injury that has you out for 4 months. I am surprisingly not nearly as sore as I figured I would be from practically using my muscles as a fuel source for part of that race. This is good and bad. Good because I feel like I simply just ran a hard long run and with just a few easy days I can continue prepping for the Marine Corp Marathon, which is in 6 weeks. Bad because it leaves questions of: Did I give up too early? Did it get harder than I expected and so mentally I shut the whole race down? Had I really pushed and tried I'd be so depleted and sore I couldn't get down stairs anyway but sideways for a few days. These are the mind tricks that come with reflecting on such an event. I will say that once I realized that I could not get my time, and by could not, I mean COULD NOT GET IT no matter how hard I pushed, I switched to "survival mode". By that I mean, in order for me not to walk off the course at around mile 17, where pushing was not getting me the splits I needed, I had to put myself in another place.... namely, the mental long/hard run place. I once again had to take the horrible feeling of defeat and regroup... or it would have been over. Regrouping meant just running through the discomfort the best way I could. I have done that countless times with long runs and so I knew if I switched my thinking, I could finish with a respectable time. That thinking probably saved me from crashing hard and crawling in with a time well over 4 hours had I tried to maintain marathon pace as long as I could. I was able to maintain a pace of about 9:15-9:30 min/miles with walks at every mile... sometimes 2 walks. I'm telling ya, walking saves your ASS when you have bitten it. The final mile I couldn't squeak out anything faster than a 10:06. I was getting super emotional as I dreaded crossing the mat and seeing John. He'd been tracking me and once again, had nearly the same amount of anxiety over this as I did. Last week, we were both so certain this was in the bag (as a matter of fact, I dreaded crossing the 35k mat, where he was going to see I was off pace. I actually considered going AROUND it!)
The beauty of the race, however, was shown through my sweet friend, Suttan, who I ran the race with. We were aiming for the same time goal. Suttan's qualifying time is a 3:55, but her PR was a 3:48. Her goal was a PR, thus the perfect running/race partner since our time goals were similar. We'd done many training runs together and were in agreement to the race strategy. I am lucky she even wanted to race with me since I told her not to talk to me, look at me or think about me (I get nasty when I don't feel good... I wanted to prepare her:) She pretty much said "No problem, I'll ignore your nasty self, but we will keep each other on pace." It was a fool-proof plan. We agreed that if the other fell off pace, we would just continue racing and not go down with that person. Suttan has had her share of injuries like I have. The last marathon she was able to race was the 2010 Air Force, where she got her then PR. After that, she battled problems with her achilles and calf that made it very hard for her to be ready to race anything. She and I were both healthy and ready for this. We really didn't believe either of us would have a problem.
When I told Suttan at mile 16 or 17 that I needed to switch things up because I was feeling bad, she slowed down. "I'm going to stay with you", she said. I replied, "No way! Please don't, Suttan. You are running strong and able to get your time." I continued to tell her I was fine and I really would be ok. That I could not longer run at pace and I needed to break the race down bit by bit. And so Suttan picked it up again, per my request.
Here is the thing, although we had agreed to go for our time, Suttan was willing to stay with me. To have trained so hard and so cautiously and to be in such prime shape for the race of her life and to offer to stay with me, and mean it, was a glimpse of an incredible kind and giving heart. Suttan wasn't bullshitting... she would have stayed if I asked her to. In fact, the mile she did stay with me, I believe put her just enough off pace to NOT get that 3:44:59 she wanted. Evidenced by her 3:46 finish, she stayed strong and true to race pace for the duration (and if you have ever run the Air Force Marathon, you are familiar with the nice two climbs after mile 21. That race is def not an easy finish). There is no way in HELL I was going to allow her to go down with me. That would have been selfish and unfair of me.
So Suttan, thank you SO MUCH for being such a sweet and funny soul. We are sure to have other races that will be super fun and awesome. I am learning to realize they won't all be that way, but many of them will be.
As for the future? I am sticking to what I wrote many months ago. This was my last marathon where I go into it with BQ as a goal. I am not changing my mind about that. Is that quitting or giving up? I don't think so. My mother was talking a couple of weeks ago about aging gracefully and learning to accept the things that you can't change and being ok with them. I mean REALLY being ok with them. That being able to say "I am not able to do this and that is ok" is letting go of the need to fight internally all the time. I loved that. This is not saying I am not able to qualify or can't run fast enough to qualify. I can. I am capable of that time. But I do know that no matter the months and years spent trying to work on a strong racing mind, racing marathons for a BQ will always yield negative anxiety and that will work against me every time. Probably more so with each failed attempt. So to continue the process of attempting and falling short and feeling bad is just not good for me and ruins the joy of running. I will still run marathons and I will still run them as fast as I can based on how I am feeling
that day. But they will always be fun from now on.
I know many people don't get it. It seems really so silly and dumb that I allow this to take over when the physical capability is there. It will never make sense to a mentally strong marathon racer. But perhaps looking at it in the context of this might help. Think of your greatest weakness and trying to overcome it. Maybe it's how you judge or view other people. Maybe it's the habit of yelling at your kids. And you hate it and you want to change it. And to the calm, peaceful mom or dad it simply makes no sense why you can't just stop. But to you, it's the hardest thing and you are a continual work in progress. You are constantly trying and trying, yet constantly falling short (oh gee, that describes me again!). This is the best comparison I can make. The difference is that with children, you can never stop trying to be a better parent. With marathoning, you can stop beating yourself up for having such a "character flaw". And so that is what I am choosing to do... accepting how I approach a BQ is something I don't want to work at changing anymore. I've made huge advances in mental strength in regard to running over the past 4 years. And quite frankly, I am at peace with exactly where I am.
Time will tell where it gets me.
Monday, August 20, 2012
Ready or NOT!
This is not a post about running. It is not about pacing or racing or PRs or anything of the sort. Well not really.
This is a post about my youngest daughter, Lucy. I have written about Will, Emma and occasionally about Jack. Seldom do I bring up Lucy. As the days of summer come to a close, I find myself dealing with a bit of anxiety over Lucy's starting of all day, everyday kindergarten.
I'll be honest... the thought of 5 days a week to myself is mighty appealing. Preschool is nothing more than a pain in the butt. No sooner do you drop your child off at preschool and come home to clean up the breakfast dishes or go for a run and it's time to jump back in the car and pick her up again. Some days I'd have rather kept her home. Kindergarten will be different. She will go to school with the big kids and come home with the big kids. It's what I've been waiting for and dreaming about for the many years I've had small children home for most of the day. I've had thoughts of all the things I'd do to fill my time, and the ideas are endless. Returning to work is one of them. I can go for long runs and not worry about the time. I can start a project at home and not be interrupted 50 million times before deciding to just not do it at all. I can go from the kitchen to my bedroom without a needy 5 year old yelling "MOMMY... WAIT FOR MEEEE!" I can spend Fridays with just John, who has the day off... a tiny glimpse of what life will eventually be like as empty nesters. I am so ready for this. Or so I thought.
Lucy had orientation for kindergarten last week. I took her to her classroom, listened to the plan for the school year by her teacher and then was to leave her with her class so that the teacher could have just the kids... begin to get to know them, tell them the routine, show them where the bathroom is, ect.. Lucy was a bit nervous that morning. She was very clingy and kept saying "You'll be in the hallway, right mommy? You won't leave, will you Mom? Be RIGHT outside, ok, Mommy?" I watched her closely as her eyes darted all over the room, as if she were searching for something familiar, warm and comforting. But everything to her was new and I quickly realized, very big and very scary. Suddenly it hit me that her feelings of fear are no different from that of an adult's feelings of fear. The difference is how we as adults PERCEIVE our children's fears. We know they will be fine and we know everything will be ok and so we sometimes get annoyed with their reaction to something that scares them. They do not know it. They are entering unfamiliar territory. They are leaving the security of home and mom and baby-hood and that, my friends, must be the most terrifying thing in the world.
I reassured Lucy that I would be close. She gripped my neck and buried her head so that no one would see her cry. I felt her little body shaking and I had to compose myself a bit as this realization of her anxiety was hitting me hard. I wanted her to know that I understood what it was like to be scared. How often have things terrified me? Things as simple as standing on the starting line of a race because I don't know what will happen and things as big as thinking Will was hit by a car 3 years ago when I heard the crunch of a bicycle from a passing car outside my window. I know fear and I know it well and at all costs I want to protect my children from it. I imagine this is what God feels like when we are scared of something. He KNOWS things will be ok and wants us to know that. He doesn't want us to feel anxious about anything, but just to simply trust and follow the plan. How much I need to remember that!
I stood up and left Lucy at her desk. Emma was with me, but stayed close to her sister. I saw Emma crouch down and sweetly try to console her scared little sister. I remember doing that with my younger sisters a couple of times. What a beautiful thing for a mother to see!
I went to the cafeteria and waited for Lucy as promised. I barely heard a word of the principal or PTC president. All I could do was think of Lucy and hope she was ok. I knew she was in the hands of a wonderful and kind teacher. I just didn't know if she was still upset.
This is a post about my youngest daughter, Lucy. I have written about Will, Emma and occasionally about Jack. Seldom do I bring up Lucy. As the days of summer come to a close, I find myself dealing with a bit of anxiety over Lucy's starting of all day, everyday kindergarten.
I'll be honest... the thought of 5 days a week to myself is mighty appealing. Preschool is nothing more than a pain in the butt. No sooner do you drop your child off at preschool and come home to clean up the breakfast dishes or go for a run and it's time to jump back in the car and pick her up again. Some days I'd have rather kept her home. Kindergarten will be different. She will go to school with the big kids and come home with the big kids. It's what I've been waiting for and dreaming about for the many years I've had small children home for most of the day. I've had thoughts of all the things I'd do to fill my time, and the ideas are endless. Returning to work is one of them. I can go for long runs and not worry about the time. I can start a project at home and not be interrupted 50 million times before deciding to just not do it at all. I can go from the kitchen to my bedroom without a needy 5 year old yelling "MOMMY... WAIT FOR MEEEE!" I can spend Fridays with just John, who has the day off... a tiny glimpse of what life will eventually be like as empty nesters. I am so ready for this. Or so I thought.
Lucy had orientation for kindergarten last week. I took her to her classroom, listened to the plan for the school year by her teacher and then was to leave her with her class so that the teacher could have just the kids... begin to get to know them, tell them the routine, show them where the bathroom is, ect.. Lucy was a bit nervous that morning. She was very clingy and kept saying "You'll be in the hallway, right mommy? You won't leave, will you Mom? Be RIGHT outside, ok, Mommy?" I watched her closely as her eyes darted all over the room, as if she were searching for something familiar, warm and comforting. But everything to her was new and I quickly realized, very big and very scary. Suddenly it hit me that her feelings of fear are no different from that of an adult's feelings of fear. The difference is how we as adults PERCEIVE our children's fears. We know they will be fine and we know everything will be ok and so we sometimes get annoyed with their reaction to something that scares them. They do not know it. They are entering unfamiliar territory. They are leaving the security of home and mom and baby-hood and that, my friends, must be the most terrifying thing in the world.
I reassured Lucy that I would be close. She gripped my neck and buried her head so that no one would see her cry. I felt her little body shaking and I had to compose myself a bit as this realization of her anxiety was hitting me hard. I wanted her to know that I understood what it was like to be scared. How often have things terrified me? Things as simple as standing on the starting line of a race because I don't know what will happen and things as big as thinking Will was hit by a car 3 years ago when I heard the crunch of a bicycle from a passing car outside my window. I know fear and I know it well and at all costs I want to protect my children from it. I imagine this is what God feels like when we are scared of something. He KNOWS things will be ok and wants us to know that. He doesn't want us to feel anxious about anything, but just to simply trust and follow the plan. How much I need to remember that!
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| Emma consoles Lucy |
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| Please don't go, mom! |
Thirty minutes later I got to see a smiling and happy little girl bouncing down the hallway in line with her new classmates heading to the bathroom. She beamed as she passed me and I whispered "Thank you, God." Lucy was going to be just fine.
I needed that experience for many reasons. I needed it to be more compassionate about my children's fears. I needed it to realize that when I am afraid, God is reminding me that everything really is going to be ok, like I was telling Lucy. I needed it to realize I am not a heartless mother who just can't wait for the kids to be gone so that I can spend my days without them. In contrast, I think Thursday is going to be very difficult for me. The way I feel right now, I have no qualms about bumping her down to 3 day kindergarten instead of 5 so that I can hang on just a smidge longer.
So parents, whether it's kindergarten, jr. high, high school or college. Whether it's a new school or a new adventure in your child's life... be kind to them if they are scared. Their fear is very real and very big.
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| I love kindergarten, mommy! |
And now I must go run :)
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Five weeks and counting
Come Saturday, there are five more weeks until the Air Force Marathon. Even typing that makes my heart race just a little bit. I should be out doing an easy run right now and counting up the weeks and realizing just how close it is makes it hard to sit here. But I know that is for the best. I am taking an interval class today and I'm slightly tired and I really have figured out that sometimes it's best to scrap a run than to do the run. We are running two very long runs in one week and I need to be careful, especially so close to the race. It is with baited breath that I say I am healthy. Nothing hurts, my calves are cooperative and I feel well trained and strong. True I've had some runs that make me think I suck, but I've been doing this dog and pony show long enough to respect what the awful feeling training runs are telling me.
It has been nearly two years since I've raced a marathon. I realize that strategy will bring me to my goal. The average pace I need for this race is achievable for me. I know this based on many things, but how I go out and execute it will decide whether I get it or not. The goal is for me to stick to my race plan. Don't let the start line suddenly make me stupid as it has so often done before. Don't let the official pacer with my needed time play any role whatsoever in how I run. His race strategy could be far different from mine.
I already know that if the forecast calls for a high of over 85 degrees that day, I will not race. I will run it at long run pace and race the Indianapolis Marathon 4 weeks later, which would put me to Boston 2014 instead of 2013. No biggie... it'll be there.
I know that if I indeed am racing Air Force, I will arrive with a strong and determined mind and nervous as HELL! I will not say "we'll see..." or "I'm just not sure I'm feeling it today..." or "this and that is bothering me...." Even if any of that is true, no one wants to hear it and I don't' want to hear it from myself. Last week I was telling Suttan that I read a funny article in Marathon and Beyond about a guy's recap of an ultra he'd done. He said that "perfect weather" is the worst thing for an ultra runner because they can't use it as an excuse for a slow time. He began to jokingly poke fun of the starting line list of excuses (he included himself in this group).... "I'm just using this as a training run...." was the most common verbalization. Then from somewhere in the back of the crowd you may hear "Yeah, doctor said it turns out I have no bones in my left leg. He said to go slow and make sure I take plenty of "S" caps." Not to be outdone by that, you then hear "Well my doctor said that my kidney should be available any day. He said to go extra slow and double up on the "S" caps." I was trying to read this to John and was laughing so hard I could hardly get the words out. What made it funny is that we all do it (maybe not the no bones or kidney transplant excuse, but still). We protect our precious pride early on from the critiquing of others and from ourselves. Not that there aren't any perfectly good reasons why we sometimes do terribly in a race. Weather IS a factor. So is making sure you are running injury free. Of course those things play a big role. So do pacing, fueling and many, many other things. So I am trying to get these things ironed out BEFORE I get there... ok, I can't iron out the weather, but I have a plan for hot weather :)
If I don't get my time goal, I'll be disappointed. I won't, however, be crushed. Knowing that may be the difference in how I approach the start. Previously, I was heartbroken, but I will not be this time. I don't want condolences at the finish line or well intended apologies on my Facebook page, because I won't need them.
Finally, I read something that I think about often and it makes me feel really good about the upcoming marathon. For anyone unsure of a goal they have set for themselves, this is good to read:
"Is there any satisfaction in reaching a goal that is easy? Goals should be a little bit scary. That small bit of fear will be what makes you work hard and train well." Jeff Galloway
It has been nearly two years since I've raced a marathon. I realize that strategy will bring me to my goal. The average pace I need for this race is achievable for me. I know this based on many things, but how I go out and execute it will decide whether I get it or not. The goal is for me to stick to my race plan. Don't let the start line suddenly make me stupid as it has so often done before. Don't let the official pacer with my needed time play any role whatsoever in how I run. His race strategy could be far different from mine.
I already know that if the forecast calls for a high of over 85 degrees that day, I will not race. I will run it at long run pace and race the Indianapolis Marathon 4 weeks later, which would put me to Boston 2014 instead of 2013. No biggie... it'll be there.
I know that if I indeed am racing Air Force, I will arrive with a strong and determined mind and nervous as HELL! I will not say "we'll see..." or "I'm just not sure I'm feeling it today..." or "this and that is bothering me...." Even if any of that is true, no one wants to hear it and I don't' want to hear it from myself. Last week I was telling Suttan that I read a funny article in Marathon and Beyond about a guy's recap of an ultra he'd done. He said that "perfect weather" is the worst thing for an ultra runner because they can't use it as an excuse for a slow time. He began to jokingly poke fun of the starting line list of excuses (he included himself in this group).... "I'm just using this as a training run...." was the most common verbalization. Then from somewhere in the back of the crowd you may hear "Yeah, doctor said it turns out I have no bones in my left leg. He said to go slow and make sure I take plenty of "S" caps." Not to be outdone by that, you then hear "Well my doctor said that my kidney should be available any day. He said to go extra slow and double up on the "S" caps." I was trying to read this to John and was laughing so hard I could hardly get the words out. What made it funny is that we all do it (maybe not the no bones or kidney transplant excuse, but still). We protect our precious pride early on from the critiquing of others and from ourselves. Not that there aren't any perfectly good reasons why we sometimes do terribly in a race. Weather IS a factor. So is making sure you are running injury free. Of course those things play a big role. So do pacing, fueling and many, many other things. So I am trying to get these things ironed out BEFORE I get there... ok, I can't iron out the weather, but I have a plan for hot weather :)
If I don't get my time goal, I'll be disappointed. I won't, however, be crushed. Knowing that may be the difference in how I approach the start. Previously, I was heartbroken, but I will not be this time. I don't want condolences at the finish line or well intended apologies on my Facebook page, because I won't need them.
Finally, I read something that I think about often and it makes me feel really good about the upcoming marathon. For anyone unsure of a goal they have set for themselves, this is good to read:
"Is there any satisfaction in reaching a goal that is easy? Goals should be a little bit scary. That small bit of fear will be what makes you work hard and train well." Jeff Galloway
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
What I needed
As has been the case for a couple of weeks now, I awoke in a sullen mood. I drug myself out of bed and made a bee line for the coffee pot. As I stood against the kitchen counter, I found myself craving a long solo run. I was aiming for 6-8 miles at an easy pace. But that was not to be today. I had agreed to meet one of the guys who is rather new to our running group and has been out for a couple of weeks. He asked if I had any runs he could join me on this week and I told him Wednesday was his best bet for the pace he wanted.
But honestly, today I just didn't feel like it. I didn't want to chat or make small talk with anyone. I wanted to take my bad mood and literally run it off. I wanted to clear my head, think about some things and immerse myself in some MUCH needed prayer time. Every so often, when this type of mood develops, running alone is the best medicine for me. And after a crappy feeling pace training run yesterday, the type that messes with racing confidence, I just needed to do my own thing.
I wasn't going to tell Tim that. He'd surely think it were some excuse to avoid running with him as I often think people that are new to running heavily rely on the company of others to get them motivated and out the door (completely understandable). It's very easy to talk yourself out of a run when no one is counting on you to be there.
When my coffee was ready, I went to my computer to read my friend Aleisa's blog and check on baby Nora. This is the routine I have settled into since the birth of Nora in April. As I read Aleisa's post, chills crept over me as Aleisa recounted a clear example of God's glaring presence in her life yesterday. How I crave having the type of faith she does! I was reminded of how compassionate, how loving and how REAL God is. And when we wholeheartedly believe in Him and His love for us, our prayers are answered. Sometimes, as seen in Aleisa's case, immediately. I realized how many people would read that, then take something difficult out onto their back decks and pray. Perhaps they would be disheartened when the thing they desired the most didn't suddenly appear like it did for Aleisa. Perhaps those with a complete lack of faith would think "Yup, that's what I figured... nothing..." and go back to their day, unaffected as usual. I know better than to think that way.
With Nora fresh on my mind, I headed out the door and up the street. I must've been very deep in thought as a voice from the other side of the street said "Mornin' Kate.". I looked over in the still darkish morning to see Tim waving. I ran across the street to chit chat with him and we headed down to Sarah's studio where she and Ryan would join in for part of our run. Tim and I ran at a very comfortable, conversational pace, discussing our recent vacations, work, kids and road construction on Harrison Avenue. We got to Sarah's studio where Ryan and Sarah joined us. Thank God I have people to run with who honestly know the meaning of taking it easy! We have evolved from the days of trying to be tough and running hard when we shouldn't be. We can be real and sometimes real is "We all feel like shit and are sluggish and a 10 minute or slower pace suits us today.... oh and yes, some of us can run some damn fast races too!" My mood had begun to lift as soon as I started running and now it was just about gone at this realization. We did our loop, dropped Tim off at home along the way and continued down to Sarah's place. With Ryan and Sarah done, I headed back up Harrison Ave to home. I had no music to distract me so I just began to think. I thought about how my morning started and how it was shaping up. I wanted to run alone, but what I needed was to run with the people I did. Now I was getting in my alone time. What began with a morning wallowed in self-pity and grumpiness was replaced with gratitude and peacefulness. I got home and was greeted by one messy, haired, sleepy-eyed five year old who didn't care that her momma was sweaty, gross and stinky. For her sake, I went and quickly changed into dry clothes and came downstairs, scooped her up and read her a book.
God is all around us. He gives us what we need all the time (that is not always what we think we want) When we pay attention and recognize it, it is incredible.
Thank you God for giving me what I needed today and everyday.
But honestly, today I just didn't feel like it. I didn't want to chat or make small talk with anyone. I wanted to take my bad mood and literally run it off. I wanted to clear my head, think about some things and immerse myself in some MUCH needed prayer time. Every so often, when this type of mood develops, running alone is the best medicine for me. And after a crappy feeling pace training run yesterday, the type that messes with racing confidence, I just needed to do my own thing.
I wasn't going to tell Tim that. He'd surely think it were some excuse to avoid running with him as I often think people that are new to running heavily rely on the company of others to get them motivated and out the door (completely understandable). It's very easy to talk yourself out of a run when no one is counting on you to be there.
When my coffee was ready, I went to my computer to read my friend Aleisa's blog and check on baby Nora. This is the routine I have settled into since the birth of Nora in April. As I read Aleisa's post, chills crept over me as Aleisa recounted a clear example of God's glaring presence in her life yesterday. How I crave having the type of faith she does! I was reminded of how compassionate, how loving and how REAL God is. And when we wholeheartedly believe in Him and His love for us, our prayers are answered. Sometimes, as seen in Aleisa's case, immediately. I realized how many people would read that, then take something difficult out onto their back decks and pray. Perhaps they would be disheartened when the thing they desired the most didn't suddenly appear like it did for Aleisa. Perhaps those with a complete lack of faith would think "Yup, that's what I figured... nothing..." and go back to their day, unaffected as usual. I know better than to think that way.
With Nora fresh on my mind, I headed out the door and up the street. I must've been very deep in thought as a voice from the other side of the street said "Mornin' Kate.". I looked over in the still darkish morning to see Tim waving. I ran across the street to chit chat with him and we headed down to Sarah's studio where she and Ryan would join in for part of our run. Tim and I ran at a very comfortable, conversational pace, discussing our recent vacations, work, kids and road construction on Harrison Avenue. We got to Sarah's studio where Ryan and Sarah joined us. Thank God I have people to run with who honestly know the meaning of taking it easy! We have evolved from the days of trying to be tough and running hard when we shouldn't be. We can be real and sometimes real is "We all feel like shit and are sluggish and a 10 minute or slower pace suits us today.... oh and yes, some of us can run some damn fast races too!" My mood had begun to lift as soon as I started running and now it was just about gone at this realization. We did our loop, dropped Tim off at home along the way and continued down to Sarah's place. With Ryan and Sarah done, I headed back up Harrison Ave to home. I had no music to distract me so I just began to think. I thought about how my morning started and how it was shaping up. I wanted to run alone, but what I needed was to run with the people I did. Now I was getting in my alone time. What began with a morning wallowed in self-pity and grumpiness was replaced with gratitude and peacefulness. I got home and was greeted by one messy, haired, sleepy-eyed five year old who didn't care that her momma was sweaty, gross and stinky. For her sake, I went and quickly changed into dry clothes and came downstairs, scooped her up and read her a book.
God is all around us. He gives us what we need all the time (that is not always what we think we want) When we pay attention and recognize it, it is incredible.
Thank you God for giving me what I needed today and everyday.
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
A Family Affair
Growing up in a not only large immediate family, but extended family as well, I remember holidays and parties with cousins, aunts and uncles galore. Although my family left Vermont, my birthplace, when I was only five, I have vivid early memories of frequent visits from both my mom's and my dad's side of the family. I remember my grandmother (my mom's mom) annoying the HELL out of my father for bringing us sweets. He called them "sugar-craps". I called them wonderful.
I remember my cousins from Maryland, the McHale's, coming to visit as well as going to visit my Corey cousins in Connecticut (I think that is the right state). Extended family was a big part of my early years. When I was five, we moved to Saipan, which is an island in the Mariana Islands. My dad applied for a school administrator position that was looking for an american to fill. My parents, who had also lived in American Samoa for a few years (my sister Ruth was born there) were the type who clearly loved adventure and moving to far away places, packed up the family and moved us there. My sister Maria was the baby at the time. During the four years we lived there, Barbara, the youngest of the eight, was born (my mother flew to Guam and lived in a convent when she was due... Saipan's one hospital was less than ideal to deliver a baby in. The best story is when the gentleman from the census came around and my mom answered the door. Imagine his surprise seeing this full term pregnant woman answer the door at the CONVENT :)
Obviously Saipan was not the type of place that you jump in the car and get to in a few hours. Nor would a quick plane ride get you there. So needless to say, we did not see much extended family during our time there.
When we moved to Cincinnati, our Connecticut cousins had moved to Atlanta. We saw them once a year for a couple of years when they came for Thanksgiving. The last Thanksgiving they spent at our house, I remember my cousin Matt breaking the wish bone and then having an utter meltdown when his wish didn't suddenly "appear". It was pretty funny. I remember thinking what a baby he was being. Today my cousin Matt is currently serving in Afghanistan.
I don't even know how much we saw our Maryland cousins but I know it wasn't much at all. We did have cousins in Indianapolis that we saw a few times a year, but still, not much. My parents were good at keeping in touch with their siblings by phone and e-mail and would frequently update us on our cousins. I attended both my cousin's weddings in the 90s and then attended their mother's funeral in February of '99. Those events, weddings and funerals, were the ones that brought us together.
Enter Team Mitch in 2006. The devastating death of my brother-in-law in February of 2006 sparked the beginning of our two families, the Coreys and the McLaughlins, joining together the first weekend in May and running parts of or all of the Flying Pig Marathon. My cousin, Sean, who had completed several marathons, came out and ran the full Pig that first year. I cannot remember if his family was with him that year, but they have been most years ever since. His brother's Brian and Stephen have also come out to run. Stephen ran his first marathon for Team Mitch and has since done another (Marine Corps) for Eden Autism to support his nephew's school.
Enter Facebook. In 2011, the Corey's (from Atlanta and now in Oregon) came to celebrate that weekend. I believe it was through Facebook and our frequent postings of the 2010 Team Mitch weekend that captured perhaps my Aunt Beth's attention. My Aunt Beth and Uncle Charlie, along with their three children, Andrew, Elizabeth and Matthew and their families, came out to participate in the 2011 weekend. I had the time of my life reconnecting with cousins I had not seen in literally, many years. Matt was no longer the "baby wish bone breaker", but a strikingly handsome young man (and SINGLE for God sakes). Andrew, who is my age, an incredible runner himself, brought his wife and two daughters, who I remember meeting 12 years ago when they were babies practically. And then there was Elizabeth and her husband Casey and their four REALLY young kids. The last time I had seen Liz was at her wedding in 2002, when I was two months from delivering my third baby. In 2011, every single one of my siblings participated in one of the Flying Pig events on marathon day. Some ran the full, some did half and some did the relay. My Oregon cousins also all ran in the Pig... Andrew doing the full (and clocking something ridiculous like a 3:06 for his second marathon ever) and Matt and Liz doing the half. My Aunt Beth also did the half marathon. It was an unforgettable weekend.
On July 4th, my parents, both in their seventies, did their first official 5k, with my mother placing third in her age group. And on July 15th, I ran the Fueled by Fine Wine half marathon in Oregon with none other than my beautiful and fun cousin, Liz, who lured me in via a Facebook invite on our official Team Mitch Facebook page. Two of my sister's, Maria and Barbara (and my adorable niece, Mariana, named after the group of islands on which my sister was born) also came. My Uncle Charlie and Aunt Beth also did that same race, with it being my uncle's first half marathon ever!
Running has connected my family in ways I never imagined it would. My husband began running to help keep me company for half of my first ultra marathon, which I did after being inspired by my brother who has run many. My 13 year old ran a half marathon after being promised a paint ball gun if he could complete the training. Ok, that has nothing to do with anything inspiring and sounds more like he was bribed... but who cares? He did it! And the confidence that kid has gained through completing not only the training, but the race will shape the rest of his life. My brother Joe, a smoker, ran a full marathon then lit up in the finishers chute (classic picture... my favorite of all time), my brother-in-law Scott ran his first full marathon for Team Mitch and has since done several halves. It's been awesome to think of how far we have all come in just a few short years and how many of us are intrigued by the sport.
On a run last week, Sarah joked that I have probably been "hidden" or maybe even "deleted" on Facebook because of all my "running posts". I laughed as I imagine all the eyeballs that roll when I post pictures of my most recent races. I said she was probably correct. I was also talking to a friend today who told me that someone we mutually know said that it's pretty annoying that all I ever talk about is running. I've actually been told that by more than one person (don't ask who, John. I won't tell you because then you won't like that person and I actually do!). I certainly don't post my races to brag about my race times. On the contrary, I sometimes cringe to think I may be drawing attention to that aspect. I understand why some people would feel it's overkill. But perhaps if those people understood that the very thing I place very high on my priority list is also the very thing that has healed my loved ones broken hearts and brought my family closer together, they may cut me a little slack. But if not, no biggie. Delete me. I intend to keep posting :)
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