A few months ago I wrote a blog post in the form of a letter to my daughter. While I ended up showing it to her, it was more of a way to help me clarify some things she was struggling with and figure out how to help her through them. This Saturday my son Jayson turns 8 years old. I thought this would be a great time to write a letter to him. However, this one probably won't be shared with him, and even if it was, he would probably have a very hard time comprehending it. After all, one of the cruelest things Autism takes away from an individual is their ability to have deep, emotional conversations with others. While this letter may be one sided, it is as heartfelt as the one written to his sister. And while it is addressed to him, I invite everyone to read it. The more people understand what life is like for Jayson, the more people will hopefully open up their hearts a bit more, and have a little more grace and patience. For him, grace and patience from others might be the best birthday gift of all...
Dear Jayson,
I simply cannot believe 8 years have gone by since you were born. It has been the largest roller coaster ride of my life - filled with joy, sheer terror, excitement, anticipation, and, yes, some nausea. I think back to what a happy and silly little toddler you were and my heart fills with joy. Then I think back to the "dark days" when we began to recognize your struggles and finally put a name to them, and my heart fills with sadness. But many years have passed since those dark days. Quite honestly, if anyone would have asked me back then if I thought you would be like you are today I would have sadly said they were crazy. I simply could not imagine that things would have gotten better.
But they have. They HAVE gotten better. And I couldn't be more proud of all you have accomplished in 8 years. Things other 8 year olds and their parents simply take for granted. With you, I take NOTHING for granted. And while there are days when my heart breaks into a million pieces, those days are fewer and farther between. But I recognize the struggles you have and know that you face some serious challenges as you get older. Here are some pieces of advice:
1. It's more than OK to be a little different. It's taken me 40 years to realize that the bill of goods our culture tries to sell you is a crock of hooey. Don't worry about fitting into everyone else's mold of "normal". It's OK if you are quirky and odd and into your obsessions. Chances are, someday you will find a group of kids that are also odd and quirky and you can flourish with them. I'm pretty sure that's what Bill Gates did.
2. Know your limitations. You and I haven't had "the talk" yet. I know we haven't discussed the big A word and put a name and label on your behavior. That day is fast approaching, though. We have, however, talked at length about how your brain is "different". We have talked about why it's so hard for you when you get upset, why it's hard when you don't understand jokes that everyone else thinks is funny, and why it's not a good idea to talk about the same things over and over again with other people. I've told you that your brain might take longer to understand what you've read in school and that you might not always understand how others are feeling. As you get older, the important thing is to remember what your struggles are, and to try and come up with some strategies to cope. We've already started with strategies on what to do when other kids hurt your feelings. It's going to be my job to come up with more strategies and your job to learn them and make them a part of your life.
3. Don't bother with mean kids. I have watched you with a broken heart this year get manipulated and made fun of by others. You are often too naive to even realize it is happening, but I notice it and I hate it. But I can't hover over you forever so you are going to have to figure out who the good kids are on your own. I"m so grateful you've managed to make some new friends this year who seem to be a great match for you. Always remember that you don't have to be the most popular kid (those kids are often popular for the wrong reasons), you just have to find a few good friends that you are comfortable with. But also realize that it's hard to be your friend, and takes a pretty special kid to put up with you sometimes. You are a bit rigid with your thinking and often want to do things ONLY ONE WAY!! You also have a tendency to talk about the same things over and over again. While I don't mind listening to the teams in the American League for the 30th time, other kids get bored. Let's work on that one a little bit, shall we? But I sincerely hope that kids learn to give you some grace, because you are a hell of a sweet kid and you can be an absolute riot sometimes. My biggest prayer for you is that you find a nice group of friends (and a wife, someday, but let's not get ahead of ourselves...).
4. Take some breaks. I know you get overwhelmed easily. I know when you get tired, or you have to socialize a lot, or have to concentrate really hard, it can overtax your brain. It's OK to take some breaks and have your "alone time". And if others don't understand that, too bad. As your mom, I have learned to say "no" to things that will bring too much chaos into our days. You are allowed to do the same.
5. Keep up your good habits. Jayson, you are one of the hardest working kids I know. I don't know many 8 year olds who do their homework EVERY day (even in the summer) without complaint. You practice your karate EVERY day. You read EVERY night. I'm so proud of how hard you work. I know it's exhausting, and I know it's sometimes frustrating. But you do it and it makes a difference. You may not be the smartest kid going into third grade, but darn it, you are certainly holding your own. And in the fall you will most likely earn your yellow belt in karate. You can be SO proud of sticking with something for this long and working so hard, even thought it takes you longer than some other kids. Your victories are so much sweeter because they are harder to achieve.
Jayson, so many people simply don't understand you. You seem like every other 8 year old on the outside, when inside the world is such a jumble of confusion for you. As a result, you try to make sense of the world in the only way you know how, and others just don't quite get where you are coming from. But if you always remember your manners and treat others nicely, work on your limitations and use those coping strategies, make a few friends with some super nice and understanding kids, and keep working hard, you are going to do just fine. It won't be easy for you, but you will be OK. I love you more than words can say and thank God for you every day. I thank God for all the support He has put in our lives to cope with big A. But I am most thankful for you and how you have changed me for the better. Happy Happy Birthday, Jayson. May you get the biggest slice of cake, lots of Bears and Cubs stuff, and have a wonderful time with your friends at your party.
I love you,
Mom
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
My Favorite Thing...
I have always considered myself a cheap date. All I need to be happy is a good book, a knitting project, and a steaming cup of coffee. In the past year I've discovered one more thing that brings laughter, happiness, knowledge, and excitement to my life. And best of all - it's FREE! I'm talking about podcasts.
For those of you who don't know, podcasts are like radio shows that you can download for free off the internet. There are literally thousands of podcasts out there covering a wide range of topics. If you have an interest, chances are there is a podcast on that subject. I've listened to many and found that some are better than others. I wanted to share the 3 podcasts that have brought me the most entertainment.
The first one is Manic Mommies. (http://www.manicmommies.com/index.php/category/podcast/ ) Erin and Kristin are 2 working moms with 2 kids apiece. Many of their shows are just the two of them venting their frustrations, which is often hilarious and sometimes even emotional. These are 2 real women with real struggles. Their husbands aren't perfect, their children aren't perfect, and they aren't perfect, but they do a great job sorting through it all to try to bring valuable insights to their listeners. They have over 300 episodes online so, by now, I feel like they are good friends of mine. Even though I am not a working mother, I identify with many of their parenting struggles. It's nice to know I'm not alone.
The second podcast is Two Gomers. (http://www.twogomers.com/) They have many seasons, starting with Two Gomers Run a Half Marathon, then Two Gomers Run a Marathon, Two Gomers Run a Marathon: The Sub Five Strive, and finally, Two Gomers Run for their Lives. The podcast follows Anthony and Steven, two thirtysomething guys who grew up together in Wisconsin, and now live on opposite ends of the country. About 4 years ago both men found themselves at a low point and decided to do something about it. Having never run a step before (except for a brief time in middle school), they decided to train and run a half marathon, and eventually a marathon. But this is NOT just a running podcast. Anthony and Steven are just two great guys with big hearts and a sweet sense of humor. I can't tell you how many times I've nearly spit out my drink listening to them - they just crack me up. It's been a joy to listen to their running escapades, but also learn about their families and big life events. I always tell my husband that if the gomers lived on our street, I would hope they would be our close friends.
The last podcast I can't rave enough about is The History Chicks. (http://thehistorychicks.com/?cat=6) Now I know you are thinking , "of COURSE Dawn would listen to boring old history things - snooze!" But this is no ordinary history lesson. Susan and Beckett profile a different woman in history in each episode and the podcast is wildly entertaining. They do an amazing level of research and thus are able to really portray the human side of their subjects. The first episode I listened to was about Marie Antoinette, and by the end of the episode I had tears in my eyes thinking about this poor young girl who must have been so scared throughout her life. Susan and Beckett have a real knack for using the podcast almost like a gossip session - only the gossip subjects are all famous. It's typical girl talk, but educational! Some of my favorite podcasts were on Molly Brown, Lizzie Borden, and Catherine of Aragon. I have studied many of these subjects throughout my own educational career (I was a history teacher after all), but Susan and Beckett have taught me more than any of my years at school.
So head onto the internet and start downloading. Trust me, you will look forward to long drives in the car, doing the dishes, cleaning the house, and exercising - because you will have your free podcasts to keep you company!
For those of you who don't know, podcasts are like radio shows that you can download for free off the internet. There are literally thousands of podcasts out there covering a wide range of topics. If you have an interest, chances are there is a podcast on that subject. I've listened to many and found that some are better than others. I wanted to share the 3 podcasts that have brought me the most entertainment.
The first one is Manic Mommies. (http://www.manicmommies.com/index.php/category/podcast/ ) Erin and Kristin are 2 working moms with 2 kids apiece. Many of their shows are just the two of them venting their frustrations, which is often hilarious and sometimes even emotional. These are 2 real women with real struggles. Their husbands aren't perfect, their children aren't perfect, and they aren't perfect, but they do a great job sorting through it all to try to bring valuable insights to their listeners. They have over 300 episodes online so, by now, I feel like they are good friends of mine. Even though I am not a working mother, I identify with many of their parenting struggles. It's nice to know I'm not alone.
The second podcast is Two Gomers. (http://www.twogomers.com/) They have many seasons, starting with Two Gomers Run a Half Marathon, then Two Gomers Run a Marathon, Two Gomers Run a Marathon: The Sub Five Strive, and finally, Two Gomers Run for their Lives. The podcast follows Anthony and Steven, two thirtysomething guys who grew up together in Wisconsin, and now live on opposite ends of the country. About 4 years ago both men found themselves at a low point and decided to do something about it. Having never run a step before (except for a brief time in middle school), they decided to train and run a half marathon, and eventually a marathon. But this is NOT just a running podcast. Anthony and Steven are just two great guys with big hearts and a sweet sense of humor. I can't tell you how many times I've nearly spit out my drink listening to them - they just crack me up. It's been a joy to listen to their running escapades, but also learn about their families and big life events. I always tell my husband that if the gomers lived on our street, I would hope they would be our close friends.
The last podcast I can't rave enough about is The History Chicks. (http://thehistorychicks.com/?cat=6) Now I know you are thinking , "of COURSE Dawn would listen to boring old history things - snooze!" But this is no ordinary history lesson. Susan and Beckett profile a different woman in history in each episode and the podcast is wildly entertaining. They do an amazing level of research and thus are able to really portray the human side of their subjects. The first episode I listened to was about Marie Antoinette, and by the end of the episode I had tears in my eyes thinking about this poor young girl who must have been so scared throughout her life. Susan and Beckett have a real knack for using the podcast almost like a gossip session - only the gossip subjects are all famous. It's typical girl talk, but educational! Some of my favorite podcasts were on Molly Brown, Lizzie Borden, and Catherine of Aragon. I have studied many of these subjects throughout my own educational career (I was a history teacher after all), but Susan and Beckett have taught me more than any of my years at school.
So head onto the internet and start downloading. Trust me, you will look forward to long drives in the car, doing the dishes, cleaning the house, and exercising - because you will have your free podcasts to keep you company!
Monday, May 7, 2012
I Did It! I Really Did It!!!
I am a marathoner.
I never dreamed I would ever utter those words - not in a million years! So here I sit, still in a fair amount of pain, but blissfully happy and proud. Here's a recap of how it all went down:
After a pretty terrible night's sleep we awoke at 5:00 to the sound of pouring rain. After my friends Julie and Jen checked their phone's weather reports, we breathed a sigh of relief that the rain was supposed to end right around the 7AM start time. We planned to eat, leave the hotel by 6AM, and arrive in plenty of time to find the "All Cheese Coral" for the start (we all had our cheese apparel on!). Our plan began to unravel when we hit the lobby. Waiting by the door, affixing her race number to her shirt, was a much older woman wearing a glittery racing skirt. She was with her son and we began to make small talk about the rain. We soon learned that she was no ordinary grandma. She was the famous "Grammy" - a 68 year old woman who decided she was going to raise money for autism (her grandson is on the spectrum) by doing something daring. Although she had only started running a year earlier, she pledged to run 50 Half Marathons in all 50 states by the time she was 70 years old. The Wisconsin race was 1/2 marathon #30 for her.
I was so in awe of this amazing woman and felt very lucky to have met her. I saw her a few times during the race and she was going strong the entire time. I would encourage everyone to check out her website and consider supporting her cause - http://www.racewithgrammy.com/
Grammy was so interesting we ended up chatting and taking all kinds of picture, thus leaving VERY late for the start line. We rushed to the lakefront and frantically searched for parking, poking head holes in our garbage bags to prepare for the rain. We hurried to the start and only had a few minutes to spare. Everyone else ran to the port a potties - except me. I have a fear of port a potties. This would come back to haunt me later. Within minutes the race began - it took us 3 minutes to reach the start line. As if by divine intervention, the rain stopped just as I crossed the timing mat - we were off!!
The first 8 miles or so of the race was pretty fun. The scenery was beautiful along the lake, and the crowds were a hoot. Some spectators had set up "high five stations" and others were dressed up as Wisconsin symbols (a cheese man, a giant beer hop, etc.). My only complaint in the first third of the race were the hills. I have never trained on hills and I thought they had 4 pretty good sized ones for a course that was supposed to be flat. I was a little worried about how those hills were going to affect my knees and hips later in the race. By mile 8 my friend Jen began talking bathroom break (she has the bladder the size of a pea). It was here I made a small error in judgement - I decided to take a break with her. I didn't really have to go, but the bathrooms were REAL bathrooms (not port o potties), and I worried that I might have to use the bathroom at mile 20. I knew later in the race if I sat down, I would probably be unable to get back up. So I hurried off the course to use the facilities. The entire stop took about 4-5 minutes. This ended up costing me my sub-five dream, but oh well.
Jen and I continued on our way but I knew it was almost time to say goodbye to her. She was going to be turning around to finish her half marathon and I was going to be on my own. I wished her good luck and steeled myself for what was to come. At mile 11 1/2 the half marathoners broke left and the marathoners continued straight ahead. I went from being surrounded by hundreds of people to being almost completely on my own. Thank goodness my friend Jeanette had stopped to use the bathroom around mile 12 because I soon caught up with her and ran with her for a few miles. For the first part of the race, we all ran an interval of walking 1 minute for every 15 minutes of running. As the miles add up, it gets harder for your body to start back up again after stopping to walk, so by mile 14 Jeanette was done with the interval. We decided to run our own races from there. I was starting to worry because my hips were hurting pretty bad and we were only at mile 14, but I kept on, laughing at a spectator sign that said "Congratulations! You have been running longer than a Kardashian has been married!"
By mile 18 I knew I was in trouble. My hip continued to hurt and my mental toughness began to break down. That nagging voice of doubt began to whisper, "you aren't going to make it!", A little after mile 19 I stopped to walk and completely lost it. My hip was screaming and my mind was panicking. I told myself I was just going to have to walk the rest of the way. I can't tell you how demoralized I felt. I now realize I had hit my wall - at the time I didn't think that was the case. I always thought "the wall" was when your legs turned to jelly and you simply couldn't go any further. But there are mental walls too, and I had just hit mine. I had walked about 1/4 mile when an older gentleman passed me. He was probably in his 70's and he was wearing a shirt that said "50 Marathons in 50 States X 3" Well, heck, what was I whining about? So I said a small prayer and started running again.
At mile 21, I knew I had to take drastic measures to take my mind off my pain. I turned up the volume on my iPod as loud as it could go, closed my eyes, and started singing - out loud. Because all outside stimulus was blocked, my brain began focusing on moving my body forward, and I started to gain speed. I can't imagine what a lunatic I must have looked like. My iPod had a very strange selection of songs - from Wham, to Rick Springfield, to Rush, and Glee - and I sang them all as I continued on my way. But it worked. I cruised the next 5 miles at my fastest pace of the entire race, and passed a boatload of runners along the way (every one of whom looked at me with a mixture of horror and pity - I think I scared them). Twice I had the bike medics ask if I needed assistance since it looked as if I had gone off the rails. Little did they know I had gotten my second wind.
As I neared mile 26 I turned off the music since I wanted to fully experience the finish line. I was concentrating pretty hard on not throwing up (16 energy chews sitting in your stomach is not a pleasant thing) when I saw a familiar face standing at the mile 26 sign - my friend Scott (who had finished the race an hour earlier) and some little girl. I was so out of it I didn't realize that girl was my daughter! She ran onto the course to run me in the last .2 miles. "The finish line is really close, Mama!" she said. "How close?" I pleaded. "Really close". We turned around a bend and I saw it: FINISH. I gave cry of joy and took off on a full sprint, crossing the line with Katy beside me at 5:04:09. I had done it. I couldn't believe it!
All of my friends and family were waiting for me and we all celebrated. My friend Julie blew her 1/2 marathon time goal out of the water, my friend Jen ran her first 1/2 marathon after swearing only a few months before that she never would, my friend Scott put in a killer marathon time, and my friends Christy and Jeanette successfully completed their first marathons (under the 5 hour mark, no less!). We all were overjoyed. And tired.
I'm still processing it all - perhaps I'll be able to write a future blog entry on how this has changed me. Right now I"m still in a bit of a haze (and, to be honest, still in a bit of pain). But I know I'll keep running. In fact, just 1 hour after the race I was already thinking about when I could get back on the road. And last night I signed up for another race - the Quad Cities Half Marathon in September. I'm going to spend the summer getting faster and blow my half marathon time out of the water. And you can bet your life I'm going to do another marathon. Next Spring, I'm going to face this race again and beat it - this time, in under 5 hours. Bring it on!!!
I never dreamed I would ever utter those words - not in a million years! So here I sit, still in a fair amount of pain, but blissfully happy and proud. Here's a recap of how it all went down:
After a pretty terrible night's sleep we awoke at 5:00 to the sound of pouring rain. After my friends Julie and Jen checked their phone's weather reports, we breathed a sigh of relief that the rain was supposed to end right around the 7AM start time. We planned to eat, leave the hotel by 6AM, and arrive in plenty of time to find the "All Cheese Coral" for the start (we all had our cheese apparel on!). Our plan began to unravel when we hit the lobby. Waiting by the door, affixing her race number to her shirt, was a much older woman wearing a glittery racing skirt. She was with her son and we began to make small talk about the rain. We soon learned that she was no ordinary grandma. She was the famous "Grammy" - a 68 year old woman who decided she was going to raise money for autism (her grandson is on the spectrum) by doing something daring. Although she had only started running a year earlier, she pledged to run 50 Half Marathons in all 50 states by the time she was 70 years old. The Wisconsin race was 1/2 marathon #30 for her.
Grammy was so interesting we ended up chatting and taking all kinds of picture, thus leaving VERY late for the start line. We rushed to the lakefront and frantically searched for parking, poking head holes in our garbage bags to prepare for the rain. We hurried to the start and only had a few minutes to spare. Everyone else ran to the port a potties - except me. I have a fear of port a potties. This would come back to haunt me later. Within minutes the race began - it took us 3 minutes to reach the start line. As if by divine intervention, the rain stopped just as I crossed the timing mat - we were off!!
The first 8 miles or so of the race was pretty fun. The scenery was beautiful along the lake, and the crowds were a hoot. Some spectators had set up "high five stations" and others were dressed up as Wisconsin symbols (a cheese man, a giant beer hop, etc.). My only complaint in the first third of the race were the hills. I have never trained on hills and I thought they had 4 pretty good sized ones for a course that was supposed to be flat. I was a little worried about how those hills were going to affect my knees and hips later in the race. By mile 8 my friend Jen began talking bathroom break (she has the bladder the size of a pea). It was here I made a small error in judgement - I decided to take a break with her. I didn't really have to go, but the bathrooms were REAL bathrooms (not port o potties), and I worried that I might have to use the bathroom at mile 20. I knew later in the race if I sat down, I would probably be unable to get back up. So I hurried off the course to use the facilities. The entire stop took about 4-5 minutes. This ended up costing me my sub-five dream, but oh well.
Jen and I continued on our way but I knew it was almost time to say goodbye to her. She was going to be turning around to finish her half marathon and I was going to be on my own. I wished her good luck and steeled myself for what was to come. At mile 11 1/2 the half marathoners broke left and the marathoners continued straight ahead. I went from being surrounded by hundreds of people to being almost completely on my own. Thank goodness my friend Jeanette had stopped to use the bathroom around mile 12 because I soon caught up with her and ran with her for a few miles. For the first part of the race, we all ran an interval of walking 1 minute for every 15 minutes of running. As the miles add up, it gets harder for your body to start back up again after stopping to walk, so by mile 14 Jeanette was done with the interval. We decided to run our own races from there. I was starting to worry because my hips were hurting pretty bad and we were only at mile 14, but I kept on, laughing at a spectator sign that said "Congratulations! You have been running longer than a Kardashian has been married!"
By mile 18 I knew I was in trouble. My hip continued to hurt and my mental toughness began to break down. That nagging voice of doubt began to whisper, "you aren't going to make it!", A little after mile 19 I stopped to walk and completely lost it. My hip was screaming and my mind was panicking. I told myself I was just going to have to walk the rest of the way. I can't tell you how demoralized I felt. I now realize I had hit my wall - at the time I didn't think that was the case. I always thought "the wall" was when your legs turned to jelly and you simply couldn't go any further. But there are mental walls too, and I had just hit mine. I had walked about 1/4 mile when an older gentleman passed me. He was probably in his 70's and he was wearing a shirt that said "50 Marathons in 50 States X 3" Well, heck, what was I whining about? So I said a small prayer and started running again.
At mile 21, I knew I had to take drastic measures to take my mind off my pain. I turned up the volume on my iPod as loud as it could go, closed my eyes, and started singing - out loud. Because all outside stimulus was blocked, my brain began focusing on moving my body forward, and I started to gain speed. I can't imagine what a lunatic I must have looked like. My iPod had a very strange selection of songs - from Wham, to Rick Springfield, to Rush, and Glee - and I sang them all as I continued on my way. But it worked. I cruised the next 5 miles at my fastest pace of the entire race, and passed a boatload of runners along the way (every one of whom looked at me with a mixture of horror and pity - I think I scared them). Twice I had the bike medics ask if I needed assistance since it looked as if I had gone off the rails. Little did they know I had gotten my second wind.
As I neared mile 26 I turned off the music since I wanted to fully experience the finish line. I was concentrating pretty hard on not throwing up (16 energy chews sitting in your stomach is not a pleasant thing) when I saw a familiar face standing at the mile 26 sign - my friend Scott (who had finished the race an hour earlier) and some little girl. I was so out of it I didn't realize that girl was my daughter! She ran onto the course to run me in the last .2 miles. "The finish line is really close, Mama!" she said. "How close?" I pleaded. "Really close". We turned around a bend and I saw it: FINISH. I gave cry of joy and took off on a full sprint, crossing the line with Katy beside me at 5:04:09. I had done it. I couldn't believe it!
All of my friends and family were waiting for me and we all celebrated. My friend Julie blew her 1/2 marathon time goal out of the water, my friend Jen ran her first 1/2 marathon after swearing only a few months before that she never would, my friend Scott put in a killer marathon time, and my friends Christy and Jeanette successfully completed their first marathons (under the 5 hour mark, no less!). We all were overjoyed. And tired.
I'm still processing it all - perhaps I'll be able to write a future blog entry on how this has changed me. Right now I"m still in a bit of a haze (and, to be honest, still in a bit of pain). But I know I'll keep running. In fact, just 1 hour after the race I was already thinking about when I could get back on the road. And last night I signed up for another race - the Quad Cities Half Marathon in September. I'm going to spend the summer getting faster and blow my half marathon time out of the water. And you can bet your life I'm going to do another marathon. Next Spring, I'm going to face this race again and beat it - this time, in under 5 hours. Bring it on!!!
Monday, April 30, 2012
It All Comes Down To This...
I am just over 4 days away from the marathon - 4 days away from doing the craziest thing in 40 years. I spent a large part of the weekend freaking out. This included obsessively checking the weather (please, please stay below 70 degrees!), wondering if I should change my planned outfit, worrying about what I was going to eat this week, and panicking over every little snap, crackle, and pop of my joints (I sounded like a bowl of rice krispies before I started running so it's really no big deal). I have been working towards this goal since last fall and I didn't want ANYTHING to screw it up.
But after a very nice and easy 8 mile run on Saturday morning, the haze of panic began to clear out and was replaced by a pleasantly surprising feeling of excitement and peace. I absolutely cannot WAIT for Saturday. Barring any disaster, I truly think this is going to be one of the greatest moments of my life. This accomplishment is mine and mine alone. Nobody made my legs move for me. Nobody forced me outside in sub zero temps or pouring rain. Nobody made me get out of bed at 5:00 AM for runs. I am hopefully going to do what less than 1% of the US population has done. And I'm usually not a bragger, but you can be darn tootin' I'm going to feel some pride in this! And the best part is that I'm going to be surrounded by friends and family, some who are celebrating their first marathons or half marathons as well. I can't wait to cross the finish line and celebrate with everyone - although I'm fairly certain they will have to start the celebration without me since I'm on pace to finish dead last out of all my friends (which is just fine, believe me!).
And I truly can't wait to see my family at the finish. Erik has been an absolute saint throughout this entire crazy endeavor. He's put up with my 7PM bedtimes, my endless carbohydrate dinners, and the dramatic increase in our ibuprofen budget. He's been nothing but encouraging and I think he's as excited for me as I am for myself. But the best part will be seeing the kids. I've always been a firm believer that parents need to cultivate a life outside of their children. I fully support my kids' dreams, but I also want them to be inspired by mine. It warms my heart that the first thing Jayson says to me when he sees me put on my shoes is "How many miles are you running today, Mom?". He used to tell me that I run too far, but lately he's been commenting "is that all?", when I tell him my plans to run some shorter distances. For some reason, he's convinced I'm going to get 76th place. I don't have the heart to tell him it will be more like 3076th place! I'm just glad he's interested in what I'm doing. But it's Katy who has tickled me the most. She comes home from school every day and immediately asks me how my run went In the past few weeks she has said more than once how much she wants to run a marathon some day. She's asked to run with me after the race and has a goal of running a 10K by the end of summer. I can't wait to get her fitted for her own pair of shoes so she can join me out on some runs. With her gazelle-like legs and crazy athletic ability, it won't be long before she passes me by.
So BRING IT ON!! I can't wait! And I'm not going to panic any more at all. I'm certainly not going to obsess any more about things like outfits and weather. But I might take the rest of the week to obsess over one very important last detail - what I'm going to have for dinner AFTER the race. I see an entire pizza in my future...
I'll let you know how it all turns out...
But after a very nice and easy 8 mile run on Saturday morning, the haze of panic began to clear out and was replaced by a pleasantly surprising feeling of excitement and peace. I absolutely cannot WAIT for Saturday. Barring any disaster, I truly think this is going to be one of the greatest moments of my life. This accomplishment is mine and mine alone. Nobody made my legs move for me. Nobody forced me outside in sub zero temps or pouring rain. Nobody made me get out of bed at 5:00 AM for runs. I am hopefully going to do what less than 1% of the US population has done. And I'm usually not a bragger, but you can be darn tootin' I'm going to feel some pride in this! And the best part is that I'm going to be surrounded by friends and family, some who are celebrating their first marathons or half marathons as well. I can't wait to cross the finish line and celebrate with everyone - although I'm fairly certain they will have to start the celebration without me since I'm on pace to finish dead last out of all my friends (which is just fine, believe me!).
And I truly can't wait to see my family at the finish. Erik has been an absolute saint throughout this entire crazy endeavor. He's put up with my 7PM bedtimes, my endless carbohydrate dinners, and the dramatic increase in our ibuprofen budget. He's been nothing but encouraging and I think he's as excited for me as I am for myself. But the best part will be seeing the kids. I've always been a firm believer that parents need to cultivate a life outside of their children. I fully support my kids' dreams, but I also want them to be inspired by mine. It warms my heart that the first thing Jayson says to me when he sees me put on my shoes is "How many miles are you running today, Mom?". He used to tell me that I run too far, but lately he's been commenting "is that all?", when I tell him my plans to run some shorter distances. For some reason, he's convinced I'm going to get 76th place. I don't have the heart to tell him it will be more like 3076th place! I'm just glad he's interested in what I'm doing. But it's Katy who has tickled me the most. She comes home from school every day and immediately asks me how my run went In the past few weeks she has said more than once how much she wants to run a marathon some day. She's asked to run with me after the race and has a goal of running a 10K by the end of summer. I can't wait to get her fitted for her own pair of shoes so she can join me out on some runs. With her gazelle-like legs and crazy athletic ability, it won't be long before she passes me by.
So BRING IT ON!! I can't wait! And I'm not going to panic any more at all. I'm certainly not going to obsess any more about things like outfits and weather. But I might take the rest of the week to obsess over one very important last detail - what I'm going to have for dinner AFTER the race. I see an entire pizza in my future...
I'll let you know how it all turns out...
Monday, April 9, 2012
Turning 40...
Well I'm wondering if I need to change the title of this blog to "Tales of a Girl Who TURNED 40", since last Sunday, April 1, was my birthday. While I think I'll keep the title the same for now, I would like to share some of my observations about the big event:
1. It wasn't a big event. No huge party, no fireworks, no massive gift, and no April Fool's day jokes. But it did include a lovely evening with my good friends filled with good food, good wine, and great company. I have always said that one of my greatest blessings is my friends. I'm so thankful I got to spend my birthday with them.
2. I wasn't depressed! I can't tell you how many people called me that day and asked (some jokingly, some not) "How are you handling everything?" I'm sure turning 40 is hard for some folks - and one day not so long ago I thought it would be hard for me. Not even close. By the time April 1 rolled around I was excited to turn 40! My 30's were an exhausting roller coaster of emotions, and I spend the bulk of the decade second guessing my every move. Recently I've come into my own a little bit and operate with a little more confidence. I'm not as panicked about my children (a shocker, let me tell you) and I feel as if I'm finally getting my footing. If anything, 40 is freeing!
3. I don't feel old! I don't quite have the spring in my step that I had in my 20's, but my step does still have plenty of spring. In fact, I spent the last week of my 30's racking up 36 miles worth of running. This marathon has certainly cushioned the blow of age. I have never felt more powerful, more strong, and more capable. I may be more wrinkled and more gray, but dang it - I can also run 20 miles.
4. I am SO excited for the next 40 years! I"m loving this stage of life - the kids are still youngish and I still feel like a world of opportunity is at my fingertips. But I've also gotten some life experience under my belt (good and bad). I think I'll navigate the next 40 years a little better than I did the first 40!
So Happy Birthday to me - and a HUGE thank you to everyone who celebrated it with me.
1. It wasn't a big event. No huge party, no fireworks, no massive gift, and no April Fool's day jokes. But it did include a lovely evening with my good friends filled with good food, good wine, and great company. I have always said that one of my greatest blessings is my friends. I'm so thankful I got to spend my birthday with them.
2. I wasn't depressed! I can't tell you how many people called me that day and asked (some jokingly, some not) "How are you handling everything?" I'm sure turning 40 is hard for some folks - and one day not so long ago I thought it would be hard for me. Not even close. By the time April 1 rolled around I was excited to turn 40! My 30's were an exhausting roller coaster of emotions, and I spend the bulk of the decade second guessing my every move. Recently I've come into my own a little bit and operate with a little more confidence. I'm not as panicked about my children (a shocker, let me tell you) and I feel as if I'm finally getting my footing. If anything, 40 is freeing!
3. I don't feel old! I don't quite have the spring in my step that I had in my 20's, but my step does still have plenty of spring. In fact, I spent the last week of my 30's racking up 36 miles worth of running. This marathon has certainly cushioned the blow of age. I have never felt more powerful, more strong, and more capable. I may be more wrinkled and more gray, but dang it - I can also run 20 miles.
4. I am SO excited for the next 40 years! I"m loving this stage of life - the kids are still youngish and I still feel like a world of opportunity is at my fingertips. But I've also gotten some life experience under my belt (good and bad). I think I'll navigate the next 40 years a little better than I did the first 40!
So Happy Birthday to me - and a HUGE thank you to everyone who celebrated it with me.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Working It Out in the Long Run
It might be cliche to say that running is metaphor for life - all that talk about life being a marathon rather than a sprint, for example. But the metaphor rings true for me, and perhaps rings most true when I think about the LTR - the long training run.
My marathon training schedule has me doing 4 runs a week. 2 of them are relatively short (5 miles or less), 1 of them hits a medium distance (5-8 miles), and you end the week with your longest run. In the beginning of the training my long run was 9 miles. Yesterday, I did my second longest training run of 18 miles. These long runs serve many purposes, and as I have completed them I have begun to realize they are not only training me for the race, they are proving to be a training plan for life.
As my long runs get longer and more difficult, life has a tendency to do the same thing. As I grow older the challenges that face me have higher stakes as well. My actions in life have a great impact on those around me. At 40, I am no longer living my life for myself like I was in my teens and twenties. I have a much greater awareness of my responsibility to others. I take my marathon training seriously so as not to injure myself on race day. I take my actions in life seriously as not to injure myself or those I love with rash decisions, selfish actions, and poor choices.
The long training run is my time to "practice" the marathon. I can test out what clothes feel most comfortable, which shoes and socks repel blisters, when to stop for fueling breaks, and what to eat before and after the runs. I would be stupid if I didn't fix mistakes on a long run, for it would make the next long run just as painful. While we may not realize it, life also provides us with many "practice runs". Everything we do is a learning experience. Every mistake we make teaches us what not to do next time. As with running, I would be a fool to continue hurtful behavior. It will only prove to be continually painful as the years go by. But while running mistakes provide almost instant and obvious pain (such as blisters, cramps, and muscle tears) that requires immediate remedy, the pain that results from our own life mistakes can often be buried and ignored. Consequently, we don't always alter our actions and we continue to hurt ourselves and those around us.
Happily, however, there is another similarity between life and the long training run - we almost always get another crack at it. Last week my long run of 17 miles was disastrous. Weather conditions were poor, my virus had not completely gone away, and my legs were screaming in pain from mile 13 on. I literally hobbled that last mile and honestly thought I might never run again. But, oh, what a difference a week made! Yesterday my long run of 18 miles had me mentally on edge - but it was successful from start to finish. I began to feel pain around mile 12, but learned from previous runs not to panic and to just keep an easy pace, while putting one foot in front of the other. I am thankful that life provides a similar second chance (and third, and fourth, etc.). I won't always make the right decisions, or act in the right way, but life will often give me a "do over". It's never too late to fix past mistakes. Just when we think we've screwed things up for good, around the corner lies another opportunity to try again and do better next time. Kind of how every Monday brings a new long run.
But what I love most about the long run is what it represents. It is not only the run that lets you "work out the kinks", it is also the run that makes you stronger and stronger each time you experience it. My body may be a wreck at the end of my long run, but by the time the next one rolls around I am stronger and ready for an even longer distance. I can honestly say that life has made me a wreck sometimes. But when I get through such challenges, it only makes me stronger to face the next ones. And the beauty of the long run is that it is, in fact, LONG. Yesterday I ran for over 3 hours. In that amount of time I can work through a lot of things in my head - and that's where the line blurs for me between running and real life. I can work through my struggles on my runs. I can think about my latest plan to help Jayson in school, or help Katy with her confidence, or help Erik with whatever he needs. I can think honestly about my own failings and how I can do better next time. The long run makes me physically stronger but, more importantly, mentally stronger as well.
Katy looked at my training schedule the other day and asked why the longest run I do is only 20 miles. Isn't the marathon 26 miles? I laughed and told her I wondered about the same thing myself. After all, 6 miles is over an hour more of running. How on earth do I face that challenge the day of the race? But I told my daughter what other experienced runners have told me before - you have to trust your training. The 16 weeks of running I have done before the race will have taught me everything I need to know. It will hopefully have trained my body and my mind to go the entire distance. And, ladies and gentleman, so it is with life. I have 40 years worth of experiences that lay before me. Life will throw me many more problems, worries, and crises, to be sure. I will simply have to trust the training. And I truly believe that it will all work out - in the long run...
My marathon training schedule has me doing 4 runs a week. 2 of them are relatively short (5 miles or less), 1 of them hits a medium distance (5-8 miles), and you end the week with your longest run. In the beginning of the training my long run was 9 miles. Yesterday, I did my second longest training run of 18 miles. These long runs serve many purposes, and as I have completed them I have begun to realize they are not only training me for the race, they are proving to be a training plan for life.
As my long runs get longer and more difficult, life has a tendency to do the same thing. As I grow older the challenges that face me have higher stakes as well. My actions in life have a great impact on those around me. At 40, I am no longer living my life for myself like I was in my teens and twenties. I have a much greater awareness of my responsibility to others. I take my marathon training seriously so as not to injure myself on race day. I take my actions in life seriously as not to injure myself or those I love with rash decisions, selfish actions, and poor choices.
The long training run is my time to "practice" the marathon. I can test out what clothes feel most comfortable, which shoes and socks repel blisters, when to stop for fueling breaks, and what to eat before and after the runs. I would be stupid if I didn't fix mistakes on a long run, for it would make the next long run just as painful. While we may not realize it, life also provides us with many "practice runs". Everything we do is a learning experience. Every mistake we make teaches us what not to do next time. As with running, I would be a fool to continue hurtful behavior. It will only prove to be continually painful as the years go by. But while running mistakes provide almost instant and obvious pain (such as blisters, cramps, and muscle tears) that requires immediate remedy, the pain that results from our own life mistakes can often be buried and ignored. Consequently, we don't always alter our actions and we continue to hurt ourselves and those around us.
Happily, however, there is another similarity between life and the long training run - we almost always get another crack at it. Last week my long run of 17 miles was disastrous. Weather conditions were poor, my virus had not completely gone away, and my legs were screaming in pain from mile 13 on. I literally hobbled that last mile and honestly thought I might never run again. But, oh, what a difference a week made! Yesterday my long run of 18 miles had me mentally on edge - but it was successful from start to finish. I began to feel pain around mile 12, but learned from previous runs not to panic and to just keep an easy pace, while putting one foot in front of the other. I am thankful that life provides a similar second chance (and third, and fourth, etc.). I won't always make the right decisions, or act in the right way, but life will often give me a "do over". It's never too late to fix past mistakes. Just when we think we've screwed things up for good, around the corner lies another opportunity to try again and do better next time. Kind of how every Monday brings a new long run.
But what I love most about the long run is what it represents. It is not only the run that lets you "work out the kinks", it is also the run that makes you stronger and stronger each time you experience it. My body may be a wreck at the end of my long run, but by the time the next one rolls around I am stronger and ready for an even longer distance. I can honestly say that life has made me a wreck sometimes. But when I get through such challenges, it only makes me stronger to face the next ones. And the beauty of the long run is that it is, in fact, LONG. Yesterday I ran for over 3 hours. In that amount of time I can work through a lot of things in my head - and that's where the line blurs for me between running and real life. I can work through my struggles on my runs. I can think about my latest plan to help Jayson in school, or help Katy with her confidence, or help Erik with whatever he needs. I can think honestly about my own failings and how I can do better next time. The long run makes me physically stronger but, more importantly, mentally stronger as well.
Katy looked at my training schedule the other day and asked why the longest run I do is only 20 miles. Isn't the marathon 26 miles? I laughed and told her I wondered about the same thing myself. After all, 6 miles is over an hour more of running. How on earth do I face that challenge the day of the race? But I told my daughter what other experienced runners have told me before - you have to trust your training. The 16 weeks of running I have done before the race will have taught me everything I need to know. It will hopefully have trained my body and my mind to go the entire distance. And, ladies and gentleman, so it is with life. I have 40 years worth of experiences that lay before me. Life will throw me many more problems, worries, and crises, to be sure. I will simply have to trust the training. And I truly believe that it will all work out - in the long run...
Saturday, March 17, 2012
My Greatest Blessing...
Life was pretty simple when I was 17 - I didn't think it was then, but of course now I know otherwise. I was a senior in high school, getting good grades, enjoying time with my friends, and highly involved at school. Looking back, I think I was pretty immature back then - perhaps no more than any typical 17 year old, but prone to the normal dramas and overreactions that many teenage girls have. I had a boyfriend - a really sweet boy that I had dated during the summer, but who lived in another state during the school year. I had no idea that my life was going to change that year. In fact, I didn't realize how significant the change would be until years later. You see, that was the year I met Erik, a very shy sweet kid one grade below me in school.
I never would have known he existed had fate not put me in speech class with his 2 best friends. The normal high school matchmaking schemes commenced and I found myself introduced to Erik one day before school. Now, I'm not going to tell you I was hit with a bolt of lightening or anything - that would be exaggerating. But I will say I knew almost instantly that this boy had a special quality about him. I couldn't put my finger on it at the time, but as I got to know him better I figured it out. Erik was genuine. There wasn't a conceited bone in his body (a rarity for teenage boys). He was kind, polite, and had a quiet strength about him. It certainly didn't hurt that he was cute (in that braces-wearing, late 80's hair kind of way). But it wasn't his looks that grabbed me - it was his integrity.
Fast forward a year and I was off to college, while Erik started his senior year in high school. We had the sweet puppy love thing going and decided to stick it out long distance. That Christmas brought news of my parent's divorce, and I think I clung to Erik like a lifeline. I came home that summer and we were stronger than ever. But the next 5 years proved to be an interesting test of our relationship, as we studied at different colleges. To this day I marvel that we stuck it out. We both took turns acting like idiots - trying out new personalities and new directions that is probably very normal for any kid in college. Erik went a little too far in the delinquent direction, and I went a little too far in the nerdy, anxiety ridden direction, with random bits of wildness thrown in. Although our relationship strained, we both grew a bit, and I suspect in the end we knew we had a good thing. I know I never met anyone else like him. I could never shake this feeling that he was the real deal - just a good person through and through.
And so 15 years ago this week, we got married. I'd love to say that's the end of the story, but it was truly only the beginning. That little gut feeling I had way back as a stupid teenager proved to be the most valuable thing I ever possessed. All those qualities in Erik that impressed me back then have turned out to the same qualities that make him nothing less than my absolute rock. Life has thrown us too many curves to count in the last 15 years (cancer, a child with special needs, family strife, just to name a few), but we continue to weather them all with as much grace and dignity as we can. And the older I get, the more obvious it becomes that I have hit the absolute jackpot when it comes to husbands. Erik is the same guy he was all those years ago, only better. He is humble, uninterested in status, full of integrity, trustworthy, kind, sweet, a hell of a father, and always looking to serve his family's needs before he serves his own. And, yes, he's still quite the looker. He is simply what many refer to as "good people".
I don't know what I did to deserve him (and there are days I think I don't), but I am more grateful for him than for anything else in my entire life. I know 15 years is a drop in the bucket (his parents just celebrated 50 years of marriage), but I suspect he and I are in the thick of it - with school age kids and their struggles (and schedules!), financial stress, and all the other pitfalls of middle age that can derail a marriage. If it's even possible, I am happier now than I was 15 years ago - just older, grayer, and completely unable to fit into that impossibly small-waisted wedding dress. Happy Anniversary, Erik. And here's to many, many more...
I never would have known he existed had fate not put me in speech class with his 2 best friends. The normal high school matchmaking schemes commenced and I found myself introduced to Erik one day before school. Now, I'm not going to tell you I was hit with a bolt of lightening or anything - that would be exaggerating. But I will say I knew almost instantly that this boy had a special quality about him. I couldn't put my finger on it at the time, but as I got to know him better I figured it out. Erik was genuine. There wasn't a conceited bone in his body (a rarity for teenage boys). He was kind, polite, and had a quiet strength about him. It certainly didn't hurt that he was cute (in that braces-wearing, late 80's hair kind of way). But it wasn't his looks that grabbed me - it was his integrity.
Fast forward a year and I was off to college, while Erik started his senior year in high school. We had the sweet puppy love thing going and decided to stick it out long distance. That Christmas brought news of my parent's divorce, and I think I clung to Erik like a lifeline. I came home that summer and we were stronger than ever. But the next 5 years proved to be an interesting test of our relationship, as we studied at different colleges. To this day I marvel that we stuck it out. We both took turns acting like idiots - trying out new personalities and new directions that is probably very normal for any kid in college. Erik went a little too far in the delinquent direction, and I went a little too far in the nerdy, anxiety ridden direction, with random bits of wildness thrown in. Although our relationship strained, we both grew a bit, and I suspect in the end we knew we had a good thing. I know I never met anyone else like him. I could never shake this feeling that he was the real deal - just a good person through and through.
And so 15 years ago this week, we got married. I'd love to say that's the end of the story, but it was truly only the beginning. That little gut feeling I had way back as a stupid teenager proved to be the most valuable thing I ever possessed. All those qualities in Erik that impressed me back then have turned out to the same qualities that make him nothing less than my absolute rock. Life has thrown us too many curves to count in the last 15 years (cancer, a child with special needs, family strife, just to name a few), but we continue to weather them all with as much grace and dignity as we can. And the older I get, the more obvious it becomes that I have hit the absolute jackpot when it comes to husbands. Erik is the same guy he was all those years ago, only better. He is humble, uninterested in status, full of integrity, trustworthy, kind, sweet, a hell of a father, and always looking to serve his family's needs before he serves his own. And, yes, he's still quite the looker. He is simply what many refer to as "good people".
I don't know what I did to deserve him (and there are days I think I don't), but I am more grateful for him than for anything else in my entire life. I know 15 years is a drop in the bucket (his parents just celebrated 50 years of marriage), but I suspect he and I are in the thick of it - with school age kids and their struggles (and schedules!), financial stress, and all the other pitfalls of middle age that can derail a marriage. If it's even possible, I am happier now than I was 15 years ago - just older, grayer, and completely unable to fit into that impossibly small-waisted wedding dress. Happy Anniversary, Erik. And here's to many, many more...
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