It's 2017 - now what?

It seems as if the new year's arrival brings about a nice time to make changes and set new goals. It would seem that I should be feeling inspired to set such goals and have a sort of plan for the coming year.

?

I don't.

I don't have a plan. I guess I'm kind of inspired, but not like "fire under my ass" inspired.

After my Whole30 in November, and my last post-W30 blog post in December, I made the most of the holiday season by enjoying sweet treats, imbibing a bit in the drink, and simply doing my best to make the best choices given the options presented to me in a given situation. In other words, I did not try to restrict my diet, but I did choose the lesser of evils at parties and at work, where food and sweets were abundant.

Happy new year!

I finally weighed myself on Christmas Day with our hostess for that evening, and the number on the scale was lower than I'd seen at any time in 2016. The hostess planned to weigh the next day and see what the Christmas dinner gain was, but I did not, and have not weighed since. I don't have a scale.  I kind of like it this way.

The sinus congestion, head cold, icky makes you feel like junk thing that's become so popular this season made its way to our house between Christmas and New Year's Eve and took me down. Just as I was recovering, BAM, the sinus infection set in. I'm on a 10-day course of an antibiotic that's also given to people with acne to clear up their skin. I now have three pimples on my face. On the up side, my sinuses are crystal clear.

Cold. This is fun?

My running shoes are no longer gathering dust like they did for much of 2016. With one race complete, and two future races paid for, I'm feeling like a runner again. Over the holidays when I was off work or working from home, I was able to get out during the week for some early morning runs and build up some miles prior to the new year. I completed, for the fourth time, the horrible, miserable, awful 5-mile S-No-W Fun Run last weekend. In full disclosure, running in the midwest in January isn't really ever promised to be awesome, but this race seems to attract the best of January midwestern weather, with sub zero wind chills and some wind that never seemed to be a tail wind. The plus sides are that it wasn't snowing, so footing wasn't bad, and it was sunny. The resulting party after the race made it all worth it, though, and just about everyone forgot just about everything by 5PM, for various reasons. Good times. I cannot wait to do this one again next year.

Looking ahead, I have a half marathon in March and a 10-miler in May. I'm working toward doing the Fargo Marathon in May, as long as I register by the end of this month, my self-imposed mental deadline. I'm going to begin training next weekend anyway, because that half falls right on a 13 mile weekend on the training schedule for the full. Gotta get to 13.1 anyway! I would love to get a marathon out of the way by summer and not deal with the post-marathon blues that I get in the fall. At the very least, I'd likely recover from that funk better, should it happen, in May than in October. Stay tuned. So far I'm surviving this winter without my usual S.A.D. crap, so that's a good thing.

Our family survived the holidays pretty well, aside from my sinus infection. Not being on our normal schedule for two solid weeks makes the kids feral by the end, but, all four of us managed to sometimes shower, leave the house a few times, and not get entirely pissed off at each other over the two weeks the kids were off school. I'm putting a check mark in the W column.

I'm hoping for a repeat Whole30 in February or maybe March. I am planning to get myself to do some cross training and lose this spare tire and gain some strength so I can break 4 hours in a marathon this year. I thought laughing at myself was good for that. It's not. Turns out, wine also doesn't do as much good as an hour in the gym like those articles all claim.

In all honesty, I'm hoping to make it through each day without causing my children to seek shelter with another family. I strive to make sure they don't tell people at school I if didn't make dinner and sound like it's a habit. Let's be real. Family first.

Do you do resolutions? Do you set goals at the new year? Enlighten me. Should I start?

It's only 30 days, right?

Halloween has now come and gone and I only ate two pieces of chocolate and a sip of wine. I wasn't able to snap any pictures of the kids in their costumes, a term loosely used this year, and I have no solid excuse. Last year was the first year we didn't go trick or treating as a family. Ethel decided she wanted to go with a friend, and it was the strangest feeling not having her with us. This year she repeated the trend, and we took Fred around our neighborhood. Last year his friends came around and we were able to organize a small posse. This year, he passed one friend and one came to the door later in the evening, but, none to walk the rounds with. We did get to walk with some neighbors and their lovely 16 month old, whom I also did not capture in a picture. Clearly I was off my picture taking game.

I did get this lucky shot of One Eyed Pete. Ethel removed both cats' collars so they could be stray cats for Halloween.

While Ethel, the unicorn, was out with friends, we were out with Fred, the hockey player. He skated around and eventually took a spill and wanted to go home. The magic just wasn't there for us this year, which was fine with me. Ethel, of course, still made candy collecting a sport and duly noted her triumph over Fred in the contest that wasn't a contest. For the first year in recent memory (well, 12 years for us), the weather was wonderful and walking around with the kids was actually pleasant. I did agree to a Butterfinger and some peanuts M&Ms, and a sip of wine from our lovely neighbors. They have learned well from my example, carrying on the "Drink and Treat" tradition that I started when Ethel was a wee one. Well done, neighbor!

Today I embark on my second Whole30. I am not going this one alone, I have two girlfriends along with me for this 30 day ride. We have already exchanged some day one words of encouragement, and we still like each other. We all know what we're in for, and have agreed not to take personally any negativity that any of us may spew between now and November 30th. We are all excited about feeling better, running better, and hopefully dropping a few pounds. 

Can I charge this guy rent?

 What better way to start your day than hearing, "Mommy, why is there a HUGE mosquito on your wall???"? The morning rush is fun enough, why not add a massive bug in the bedroom to the mix?

Despite the large insect in my room, I was able to squeeze out my breakfast and lunch for the day and get them packed. I've fallen for brussels sprouts over the past couple of years. No, it's not chocolate, but, I am not repulsed by them. If that doesn't sell you on trying them, I don't know what will. Anyway, breakfast is a simple combo of sprouts, slaw, red onion, and some diced chicken. Lunch is a Greek salad with tuna. That one I'm super excited to have later on!

I am on day six without coffee. Have you seen me on the news? No, you haven't. There, see? If I can do it, you can do it! I'm adding new focus to hot tea, which I usually enjoy in the winter anyway. The warmer fall we're having is making it a little harder to get into the hot drink spirit, but, I'm managing. Some peppermint tea to start the day is actually a bit refreshing.

My biggest difficulty is around 2:30 in the afternoon when I'm at work. That post-lunch food coma triggers my brain to want to eat everything crunchy and salty that it can find. It's the darndest thing. I've succeeded in beating the beast for the last two or three work days, so I'm pretty sure it's going to be OK. I've got a Larabar to help in case of emergency. Water, water, water.

Don't get used to the pictures or any sort of daily updates. Day one I'm still happy and feel encouraged. My next update may be hateful and angry. You've been warned.

Because elastic pants aren't ideal

My daughter has some sensory things going on, so from a very early age she has worn nothing but leggings. As long as the waist is elastic (no buttons, snaps, zippers) she'll wear it, and Old Navy has leggings for cheap. Done. I am now 44 years old and don't have the same sensory things going on, so I will wear jeans, shorts, or pants with buttons or snaps or zippers.

Over the last two years, my activity level has gone way down. I stopped playing softball, and I have reduced my running to almost a dead stop. After finishing the Grand Rapids Marathon in 2014 I fell into a polar vortex funk, using my newly acquired tendonitis in my ankle and the horrible winter as an excuse for not being more active. I was happy to sleep in on Saturday mornings, stay home with the kids on week nights, and continue with my food intake as if I was still training for the marathon. It was both a blessing and a curse when I discovered that Vera Wang made workplace appropriate pants with elastic in the waist line. Damn you, Vera!

Elastic pants should be reserved for kids like my daughter, toddlers wearing diapers, and adults on Thanksgiving a after the feast. While these pants are very comfortable, I never planned on them becoming such a staple in my wardrobe, let alone the only pants I could fit into for a full winter season. I initially intended to wear them through last winter season and get my butt in gear in the spring so I could get myself back in shape and back into my regular work pants. Then summer crept up, and whadda know - I barely squeezed into any of my summer wear. When you're unbottoning at your desk at work by 10AM, something is drastically wrong. Time to make some changes.

I started by going back to full-on Paleo in spring. Kind of fell off the rails over Derby weekend in May. Got back on the horse some time in June, and have done sort of OK since. I have run on and off during the summer months, but not enough that I'd even say I'm running. My hip took a bad turn, literally, to the point where I could barely walk until I went back to my PT, tail between my legs, and got it set back in place. That was a bit of a scare, I'll be honest. I haven't had a good long run since August 2015 when I was in San Francisco visiting family. It hurts, and it sucks. I need to get back into shape so I can run again, and keep my body from revolting.

Enter - dietary changes. Big ones. I can't ignore it any longer. Enter - exercise. I run, I like it, I can do it, it's easy for me, and I miss it. Running isn't going to get me into the shape I need to be in to stay healthy. My hips aren't going to just magically stay in place without some help. I have to focus on long term health, not just getting through the next marathon, the next 5K PR, or fitting into pants. 

Welcome, my second Whole30. My first foray into Whole30 was in April 2013. I was introduced to it, and Paleo life, by a good friend of mine, and we did the 30 day adventure together with another friend. It was pretty awesome, I have to admit. It changed the way I eat and the way I look at the food I cook for me and my family. I made a half-hearted attempt at it again last November and I crashed and burned. I wasn't mentally in the game, and I didn't plan like I should have. This time is different.

I'm now meeting with a personal trainer to develop a workout plan. I joined the chintzy fitness center at the end of my street so I have a place to go away from the kids, the kitchen, and messy house, to focus on me. I'm declaring my readiness, and making myself accountable. I've set a few short term goals for myself which are realistic and attainable. In the longer term, I'm looking at getting back to marathon training. In the longer long term, I am excited to have more energy, more strength, and less time saying, "I'm injured". No more excuses. Time to prevent the injuries!

I'm only putting this out there because one of the first things I need to do is acknowledge my commitment. I have to make this real. I have to step outside my comfort zone. I have to follow through. I'm not a gym rat, I hate gyms. This fitness center is less of a gym and more like someone's basement that a few people visit on occasion and I like that. It's not crowded. It's not full of skinny bitches, guidos, and sweaty assholes. It's not the most modern facility, but I have to get out of my house and make this happen. Fitness and health don't just happen, you have to make them happen.

I'm excited for this Whole30 because I want to feel better, and I know this will get me there. Nothing is easy, but I know I can do this. You're probably wondering, what the hell is Whole30? All I'm going to say is it's all over the 'web, so I'm not going to reinvent the wheel. Visit the web site, or Google it, and learn for yourself. That's the beauty of the internet!

So there, I said it. I'm doing it. I will begin my Whole30 on November 1st. I'm preparing menus, shopping lists, and I'm preparing my mind. I'm no food photographer, and I don't like to stop and take pictures of every step of something I'm doing. I do need to keep some sort of diary of my progress, and when I think of it and have the time (ie: when I'm not cooking and food prepping) I'll do that here. I'm not one to go shout from mountain tops and tell everyone they should do this, and I'm not here to get anything out of using my blog to track this, only to give my brain a space to unload and share my experience, and maybe some bad pictures of good food. If that's not inspiring, I don't know what is, right?

Helping hands

A can of green beans. A loaf of bread. Fresh vegetables and fruit. For many of us, these are things that we have at our disposal in our kitchen cabinets. For others, it's a challenge to pay the rent or mortgage, and a bigger challenge to put food on the table for their family. In partnership with the Itasca Walk-In Ministry, the Itasca Food Pantry provides local families with vital resources to put meals on the table when they need it most. Today, the food pantry serves 75 families in Itasca.

This morning, members of the Itasca Runners Club and their families spent a few hours helping at the food pantry, sorting food, stocking shelves, and learning about the incredible work that the Ministry and food pantry do. The Itasca Food Pantry is one of the beneficiaries of the Club's annual Itasca Oktoberfast 5K, the Club's flagship event held every October. Proceeds from the event allow the Club to support several local charities, providing both monetary and tangible item donations to those organizations who give back to the community. Recently, the Club was able to provide a Sub Zero freezer to the food pantry, giving them more space to keep meats and other frozen goods that they provide to their clients.

Volunteers tour the room of stocked shelves

A newer offering by the food pantry is the Birthday Bag program. Launched just a few months ago, the food pantry assembles bags filled with items to help make birthdays special for children aged 1-13, including a cake mix and frosting, candles, table cloths and other decorations, and age appropriate gifts. All of these items are donated to the food pantry, and parents can choose a bag for their child, already sorted by age and gender. The food pantry believes that every child should have something that makes their birthday special, even something as seemingly small as a festive table. Today, the food pantry provides bags for 70 children in their client families.

Helene presents the Birthday Bag
program to volunteers

The Runners came to work, and that's exactly what we did! Adults and children alike went to work sorting canned foods from boxed foods, stocking the shelves so clients can find what they need, filling boxes with toiletries and personal items, and cleaning the work room.

Father and son, working hard

Dan and Mark filling crates
with meats

Jim stocking shelves

Teamwork at its best

These kids worked hard!

Club members learning about
the Walk-In Ministry

The food pantry presented the Itasca Runners Club
with a certificate of appreciation for their
continued support of the food pantry's mission.

Members of the Itasca Runners Club.

Club members and
future Club members their children.

I will be the first one to admit that our family does not volunteer nearly enough. When you hear the stories of families who spend years donating to the food pantry, only to find themselves later needing the pantry's services, it is inspiring to witness the work that the women and men who run the pantry do for their community. Through generous donations from the community, as well as partnerships with the village, local food stores, and a regional food bank, they are able to provide a vital service to the community. In today's world, none of us ever knows if or when we might need a service like this one, and it's nice to know that it is there when emergency assistance is needed.

Have you volunteered lately? Do you know where your local food pantry is? Call your local village hall to learn more about the health and human services that they provide to your community.

Girls on the Run 5K, Mommy/daughter run!

I had the pleasure of running a 5K with my daughter yesterday. Ethel participated in Girls on the Run this spring, and yesterday was one of the program's regional races. Ethel asked me at the beginning of the program if I would be her running buddy, and I jumped at the chance.

Ethel is not one to jump at the chance to do anything physical. This is not to say this child is entirely sedentary, but physical activity is not her forte. I was pleasantly surprised when she agreed to do the GOTR program, but not just because I'm a runner. I want her to be involved with kids outside her tight-knit class, and I want her to see that sports can be fun and rewarding.

There were lessons throughout the program about teamwork, bullying, and nutrition. She asked me several times about whether certain foods are healthy or not, and why we eat certain foods and not others. Don't get all crazy on me here, she still eats less than a baby robin. That's another topic for another day.

I offered a couple times to jog around the block with her to give her some additional practice for her race, but she declined. She was quite firm that she was doing only this 5K, nothing more and nothing less. There will be no other races, no other running. Well, OK then.

There were a couple nights when she would share her thoughts with me about the race. One night she told me that in the race, we'd start out slower and then get faster. One day last week when I proposed an outing, she told me she was resting so she wasn't too tired for her 5K. This was the night before she ran around the field at the college track where I had a track workout. Well played.

Anyway, she's not a morning person by any stretch, so having to be at the school by 6:15AM was really a hit. I thought she might never get out of bed. She argued, yelled, and walked the 1.5 blocks to school with her arms folded, brow furrowed, and lips pursed. This all changed once we got to school and her friends began to arrive, of course.

Feel the excitement

Seeing Ethel with her friends is really a peek into a world that I know nothing of. She is so vibrant, silly, and funny around her friends. Not that she's not these things at home, but, the silly side is entirely different than the silly side at home. I love it! I watched her on the bus as she and her friends chatted and giggled and described the feeling of leaning their heads and faces on the windows as the bus drove along. It's also reassuring to see other children interested in talking to your child, and genuinely enjoying their time together.

Fast forward to race time. Ethel held my hand while we waited in our corral for our start. I was surprised by this because she is not a hand holder. I repeat, not a hand holder. I tried my best not to make anything of it, but I did whisper in her ear that I was happy to be there with her. She forced herself not to grin. It was awesome.

As in any race, that first maybe mile or so is always congested. Try navigating the crowded mile with hundreds of third thru eighth grade girls and their running buddies all running at different paces, many of which, like us, are holding hands. That first mile was actually the most energetic of them all, as one might expect. The kids figure they need to run, and kids don't really have the whole "I should pace myself" mentality, so they go balls out for a while, 'til they lose steam. Then they walk. At 0.4 miles. And the cycle continues for 3.1 miles.

I heard more than once, "If this old lady can do it, so can you!", as mothers tried to coax their daughters to pick up the pace. It was actually very cool to see so many parents, both moms and dads, who aren't runners but who were really giving it their all and supporting their daughters. Ethel and I agreed to walk through the water stops, but I told her, "You can walk through it, but you have to run to it!". And we did. It was a really warm morning, so I made sure that Ethel took plenty of water at the stops. She even dumped a cup of water on her head at one of them!

There were several teams where all the girls and their running buddies wore tutus. It was pretty cute, actually. So at one point, I told Ethel, "You're not going to let a little kid in a tutu finish ahead of you, are you?". Her response? "Really, Mom?" {insert eye roll} I actually think that with all the eye rolling (like, out of their heads style) that morning, it's a wonder nobody stepped on one along the course. Pretty funny, if you ask me, albeit annoying at the same time.

This event is not timed, but I am CompetiMom, and needed to know how we finished. I wore my Garmin. Yes, that was me, hitting the <start> and <stop> buttons at the start and finish, as if it were one of my own races. I am proud to say, though, that Ethel and I finished, HAND-IN-HAND, in 43:31!! For her first 5K, I thought it was awesome!

We were both thrilled to have done this together. Fred and Hot Dad came and watched and cheered us on, and when we saw them just before the finish, cheering for us, I caught a beaming smile flash across Ethel's face. Then disappear. It was beautiful.

Here we are, just before the finish:

Feeling the energy of the crowd

We each got a medal. I gave her a great big hug. She wriggled away and went and sat with her friends. She laughed and celebrated. Then we went to IHOP to eat. It was a beautiful morning.

A before picture

I didn't get any pics of the two of us with my own camera, but, I did take a pic of the girls and some of the running buddies:

Fine looking group!

Best of all, she said she'll do it again next year. Mommy's doing the happy dance!

Untitled

Coming back to something you've spent time away from is not as easy as it might sound. Not that long ago, I was involved in the Mommy Project 52 where I posted an entry at least once a week, but usually more often. Looking back, I don't know how I ever found the time. On the other hand, I don't know how I have not found the time to write more in the last year or so. For me, it's time to change that.

The last six months have been busy. I did complete my first marathon, and have yet to offer a summary of that amazing experience. It deserves more than "it was a great experience", and I will give it due credit by making the time to write about it.

I've also been busy this school year in my first term as PTO President at the kids' school. It's only logical when you're a wife, mother of two, full time corporate employee, and training for your first marathon to take on a leadership role in a struggling group that needs direction, right? I thought it took forever to get things done in the corporate world, but oh how wrong I was. If you think corporate politics are tough, you haven't seen anything until you've worked with the education system. Between trying to strengthen a bare bones parent group, researching and dreading Common Core implementation, and learning how to communicate with educators, it's been quite the learning process, to say the least. I have also become interested and involved with the local School Board and Education Foundation for our District. What an eye opener it is to see the inner workings of the school system, and learn about the challenges faced by parents and educators alike, and how disconnected the two truly are (to no fault of either, really). Still, it's interesting and if I can do anything to advocate for the best for my kids, and my tax dollars, I'll do it.

Ethel turned nine in November, and we hosted our first sleepover birthday party. Nights like that make you thankful for pharmaceuticals and wine. These are the makings of treasured memories, though, and Ethel was thrilled to have her closest friends all in one room, enjoying movies, snacks, and laughter. It really was fun for everyone, even little brother, Fred. One thing to remind me of if I ever entertain the idea of a sleepover - don't let Daddy off the hook and make plans out with friends. Ya, going solo is one thing, going solo with five eight and nine year old girls is another. Repeat thanks for wine.

As far as Ethel's school year is going, we couldn't be prouder. She is an avid reader, and when I say avid, I mean that every waking moment is spent with her nose in a book. She is fascinated with Greek mythology and is counting every second until the October release of the next installment in the adventures of Percy Jackson. She has continued her excellent performance in math, loves science, and, of course, reads like a machine. This year she is participating in Girls on the Run. I couldn't be happier, and she's asked me to be her running buddy in the 5K at the end of the program. Yeah! We're looking forward to it, and hoping to make it a family affair.

The plague avoided us this holiday season, so it was much more pleasant than 2012. We kicked it off with our annual wine and cheese early in December. The 2013 party, a "Wine and PJ's, I Mean Cheese", was our biggest to date. Easily 100 people made their way through the house, most donned in some version of sleep wear, tasting wines, cheeses, and whatever food found its way into the house. The evening ended early the next morning with a dance party to rival Dance Fever in its heyday. All in all, it was our best party yet, and the bar is now set very high for 2014.

The winter of 2013-2014 took its toll on all of us. To say that it was a tough winter is barely scratching the surface of Chicago's 3rd snowiest winter on record. It wasn't just the snow, but the bitterly cold, aptly named, Polar Vortex. A seemingly endless cycle of snow and cold forced us to stay inside most of the winter, even causing school to be canceled four days in January. This also got in the way of any consistency in my running. Twice we were forced to an indoor track due to icy roads, and just about every week there was a generous snow fall that messed with everything. I really fell off the wagon, and am still struggling to get back to my running routine. The fact that my husband started running right around the time of the marathon didn't help matters much. After a while, he was running more than I, and this is not a healthy change for me. Now that the weather has broken, I am slowly getting back to the sport that I love.

Fred turned seven in March. His birthday party was much easier than his sister's. We took a couple of his friends to go see Mr. Peabody & Sherman. Hilarious movie, by the way, equally enjoyed by the kids and me and Daddy. After the movie we went back to our house for play and cupcakes, and it was a big hit. Fred has developed and grown in many ways since turning six. Not only has he physically sprouted, probably adding at least a half inch in height, he has blossomed at school. Since August, he has made many more new friends, become the featured beat-boxer in music class, and emerged as our very own little Good Will Hunting. His love for sports stems from a fascination with numbers and stats. Everything he does revolves around numbers, and after meeting with his teachers, we're trying to harness the power of this beautiful mind.

Work is work. I just had my 18 year anniversary with my company, which just blows my mind. I was barely older than that number when I started there! Last year I had a major change in my work schedule. After 8 years of being able to work three days in the office and two from home, I had to return to the office five days a week. This may not seem like a big deal, but I am still adjusting, 13 months later. Our child care expense more than doubled, and I lost a lot of time at home. No longer can I toss in a load of laundry, sit with the kids to do their homework a couple days a week, or have dinner on the table by 5 twice a week. First world problems, yes, but adjusting to this new schedule has been hard for all of us. We've created a new normal with this change, and so far we're managing to stay afloat. Still, I am thankful to have a stable career which helps me provide for my family. I'd like to say I wish I could stay home, but I know the grass always looks greener on the other side, so I'll remain thankful for the arrangement we have.

I couldn't tell you what we are busy with except just getting through each day. We run, play, work, go to school, not necessarily in that order. So often I tell myself I'll make time that night, or tomorrow, or over the weekend to spit out the blog post I just drafted in my head. Not running much lately has messed with my mind big time, and not blogging hasn't really helped matters because I need a place to dump my thoughts. How about if I try to post at least once a week? I'm sure I can do that. It's long overdue.

I'll leave you with a recent shot of the kids.

We love Easter morning!

26.2

Back in 8th grade, I was told that I should not study a foreign language in high school. Having dealt with nearly paralyzing shyness, a learning disability, and struggling through elementary school and junior high, I was advised that a language would be too difficult for me and that I should focus on the basics, rather than add to my work load in high school.

Game on. Sign me up.

From the many languages at my disposal, I chose the language of my lineage, German. Difficult, at best, and quite a surprise to the administrators and teachers who were trying to steer me away from what they thought would be certain failure. One might argue that they had my best interests in mind, but I argued that they were challenging me, and I accepted.

Between a heavy workload of music classes and the usual math, history, English, and science, I was determined to show them that they were wrong. I *could* handle it. The first couple years were tough, but, high school isn't exactly a cake walk no matter what you're studying. By junior year, more than half my day was filled with vocal and instrumental instruction, and a bulk of my time outside of school was spent in private lessons and independent practice. I was that kid who worked their butt off to anchor the flute section and stay buried among the sopranos, but I loved every single second of it.

With the support and help of two very dedicated German instructors, I did not quit like I wanted to those last two years. I didn't want to let "them" win. For as much work as I had to put in to just passing, though, even *I* didn't want to fail. Luckily, my teachers and my parents didn't let me. They helped me, they supported me, and most of all, they believed in me, even when I didn't.

As a final act of defiance, I chose German as my major field of study in college. I admit, this was really just because taking introductory German classes as a Freshman seemed like a good way to get some easy A's. Let's be real. With two amazing instructors who helped, encouraged, and supported me through some very difficult times, I earned my B.A. in German. There were even (very brief) times when I thought about continuing my education and pursuing a career as a translator. No, I didn't follow through with that, but to even have those thoughts was a pretty monumental thing for me.

Fast forward to 2010, when a friend of mine asked me to run a 5K race with him over the July 4th holiday. HA! I had run some in college with a friend, but, to say that I'd ever really 'run' was laughable. In college, we would run in the absence of a car to visit each other. We would run up and down the steps of the football stadium and all the upper level steps in the basketball arena. For fun. Twisted, not really fun, fun, of course. Trust me, aside from my friend's company, it wasn't really all that fun. Most of the time.

They never called me Sporty Spice

So to do a 5K when I hadn't laced up my shoes in (a few) years was more of a joke to me than an invitation. With two kids and a desk job, my most rigorous exercise was bathing my children and shaving my legs. Finally I agreed, mostly to get him to stop asking, but also because I figured I was up for the challenge.

My time in that race was more than a number on a clock. It was now my newest challenge. I could do better than that, and I would. Slowly, I replaced time with my therapist with time in my running shoes. I also regained a little of my pre-mom self and found a competitive spark that had been dormant for many years.


Since nobody is ever happy with our station in life, when you begin running, you're like that single girl at the office that everyone thinks should be dating, then married, then having kids. You do a 5K, now when are you doing a 10K, or a half marathon, then when are you doing a full marathon? It never ends. So, in following with my spirit of facing the challenge, I decided to sign up for the Chicago Marathon 2012.

My body had other ideas for me in 2012, and I injured my hip in the pursuit of that marathon. Scratch the year off the record. It would have been easy to give up and just stop running altogether, of course. When you can barely walk, who wants to think of running? Me.

Last year was filled with physical therapy, failed attempts to show I was healed, more physical therapy, and finally - no more running. More coffee. More wine. Where'd I put the number for my therapist?

....with wine...

There was no way I was going to let my hip keep me from this marathon. Did I believe I could do it? Hardly. Did I want to prove to myself and others that I could? Totally. Especially after being sidelined by something that only I had control over.

Since little comes easy for me, it was only fitting that even registering for the marathon wouldn't be easy. At least this time, it wasn't just me that the Gods were trying to test. Luckily, I got in without having to endure weeks of waiting to be chosen by Lottery.

In hindsight, I can honestly say that I've worked my butt off to get to this point. I still don't know that I am certain I can do this, but, I have allowed myself to have the confidence to make others believe that I think I can. I've even got others thinking that I can!

I have had some awesome support throughout my return to running and my marathon training. It means more to me than I can even try to explain. Who would have thunk that anyone would get their butts out of bed to meet *me* at O-dark:30 on Saturday mornings during the summer so I could run seemingly endless miles with great company? How many people are fortunate enough to be part of a team of runners whose common goal is to have fun while doing something that we love? And holy hell, who would have thunk that I'd ever get back into those size 8's that I secretly kept in my closet?

Let's keep this our secret, OK?

I haven't logged my training this summer, in part due to the fear of the jinx. Like washing your car invited birds to crap on it, I didn't want to write about my training and end up jinxing my success. It doesn't hurt that a full time job, house, husband, and two kids take up a good chunk of my time when I'm not running. So, since you haven't had to endure weeks and weeks of me talking about running, being sore, being busy, and more running, I hereby thank you if you subjected yourself to reading this entry, which might take you as long as it will take me to run 26.2 on Sunday. Perhaps I will have some brain power in the days following the marathon to chronicle the race itself. Perhaps not.

In these few days before the marathon, I'm trying not to obsess or question or pay attention to the new pings and aches that are trying to take over my mind and body. Instead, I'm focusing on teaching the kids how to get Mommy her morning coffee, make my lunch, and deliver my evening glass of wine (without spilling!) so that I might enjoy some time off my feet after accomplishing my very.first.marathon. Chicago 2013, here I come!

Hello, Summer? I think we got disconnected...

Someone told me the other day that it is now August. Actually, that was in reference to the fact that it's almost September. September is just the month before October. October is when the Chicago Marathon happens. I'm running in that marathon. I've been training for it all summer. At least, what I think was summer.

A few days ago (OK, in June) I left for Ragnar, and when I returned I said, "I can't wait to write up my summary of this weekend!". I still can't wait to do so. This race reset my running brain, and proved that my body can accomplish so much more than I convinced myself I was capable of earlier this year.

Then I took the kids to their first day of summer camp. Each night after that, we scrambled to have clean, dry bathing suits and towels, lunches that would withstand field trips and bus rides, and oh ya, dinner. And getting to bed.

Then Fred started Rookie Ball two nights a week. Of course, Rookie Ball was the same two nights I run. Then Hot Dad's softball started on one of the same nights as Rookie Ball and my running. Let's not forget the softball league Hot Dad plays on with me on another night. At one point this summer, I wondered why we pay a mortgage and not rent a suite in a hotel for as little time as we seemed to spend at home.

Weekends have been additionally fun. I get my long runs in on Saturday mornings, usually before the rooster sends out the morning call. Still, as my running distance grew, my Saturday mornings were more and more consumed with my absence. Being home was then consumed with removing the grime of the miles from my body and resetting my mind back into Mommy-mode.

Hold on, 'just the other day' wasn't June. It was the 4th of July. Yes, that's it. The sun was up early, the birds were waking me for work and early long runs, and we could play softball casually without fear of darkness before the 5th inning. That was just last week, right?

That's about when Hot Dad got the running bug. He did the local 4th of July 5K for the third time and got a huge PR! Amidst all the ball games and my running, we squeezed in some time for him to get out and put in some miles.

The kids have watched a LOT of Animal Planet. I have run a lot of miles. Hot Dad has put up with a LOT of whining from all of us, and has made sure the kids are where they need to be each night. I have enjoyed plenty of wine. I drink a LOT of coffee.

I'm wrong, it was just June. We just got the field trip schedule from camp. We just put away the school back packs and got the new camp ones. Right?

I'll be honest, I feel cheated of a summer. I'm not sure how to justify that because I was outside so much pounding out the miles on the road or playing ball. Still, I feel like we were so crazed this summer that we, OK I, didn't get to enjoy it. There was no deep breath, no sitting by the pool, no time in the God forsaken tundra of weeds yard.

In my desperate attempt to keep some sort of social life, I tried to schedule times to see friends. This has been much harder than it sounds. Grocery shop? Do laundry? Clean the sticky spot on the floor? What's that thing in the corner with the hose that plugs into the wall? Vacuum? What language is that? Where's my wine?

I grew more and more tired as the weeks drew on. All of this, and we have only ONE kid doing any kind of activity!

Let's not forget the joy of weekday mornings with tired kids. Camp is enough to wipe you out, but when you have to get up at 6AM every day to go, there's a whole new layer of fun. I never could keep up with blogging our lovely mornings before camp with the daily pictures I take of the kids. There's been no time! Is there more coffee around here?

I am super thrilled (nobody says 'super' any more, why?) to be doing the marathon this year. My training is going well, I have been pain free except for the normal spongy legs and brain that go along with running through three towns, two counties, and then grocery shopping with two kids and then making dinners and trying to keep some semblance of order in the house.

Imagine my surprise when someone asked me if the kids were excited to start school "this month"! "This month"? You must be mistaken, summer hasn't yet begun.

In a mad attempt to find summer, we took our annual trip up north to a home away from home that I have come to treasure for its sunsets, indoor/outdoor pools, and its distance from home. I hadn't accounted for early morning wakings, though, to get in a run before the rest of the family was geared up for the pool. Still looking for that one relaxing morning on vacation.

I find myself, now, in the midst of school backpacks, homework, and making sure books go back to school. And lunches. But it's still only June, right?

Last day of camp

In the Mommy 'hood

Thoughts from last night's run:

This is how I feel running, into the wind, up long, steady inclines

Who runs with lipstick and eyeshadow?

This is how I feel as a parent, dealing with the constant demands, whines, objections, what-ifs, and general duties associated with young children.

 

 

Is this more effective than coffee?

And when all is said and done, the run is complete, the children are asleep, and Mommy is having some wine finally sitting down and relaxing {insert hysterical laughter here}.....

Minus the lipstick

Honestly, though, as I got through the run last night, I realized that there have been so many times when I just wanted to quit. Just stop, toss the shoes, not run the next run or race, and walk away. At home, I am overwhelmed. Some days I feel like I am not cut out for this motherhood thing. I want to run away more often than not, or so it seems. Ironic, right?

What makes me want to keep at it, or even do it again, is the feeling at the finish. Whether it's a race or a fun run, or kissing the tears off a cheek and seeing a smile, the feeling of knowing I did it really keeps me going.

The last few weeks have been tough, and last week I could feel it in my legs on every run. Last night, though, I could feel the stress of the day fade throughout the whole run. I remembered the feeling of being able to accomplish what I need to after a good run. It was a feeling I haven't had in quite a while, and it felt good to finally have it back.

And, to top off my night, I made it to Fred's first Rookie Ball game (just a little late). I got through my day, melted away some of the stress, and got to see him play in his first game.

I have terrible Mommy guilt most of the time, and being late to the game last night didn't help that at all. Still, getting a hug from Ethel, and watching Fred out there watching airplanes and running to first base, it was like a big reward for the day.

Testing, testing, 1-2-3....is this thing on?

I have been absent. Bad blogger. It's not on purpose, or for lack of interest. I never could have anticipated how busy life would get with a husband, house, job, two kids, and the bit of a social life that I try to cling to. I feel like we emerged from the plague that hit over the holidays and hit the ground running, never looking back.

I can't juggle and I don't wear dresses

Fred has now completed kindergarten. His first year in institutionalized education went quite well, and I am certainly looking forward to his first grade experience. He has now lost six teeth (one of them at 2AM last week, which was awesome), and I'm still getting used to seeing him without his top fronts. He is very excited because without these key choppers, he proudly declares that he looks like a real hockey player (Duncan Keith of the Hawks, to be exact).

We've enrolled him in baseball for the summer, which he's really looking forward to. I can't count the number of cold spring days after the snow melted when he would take his tee ball set out back and set up a field and practice hitting and running the bases. I think the cutest part is the way he lays out the bases. His patterns are wonderful. :)

Ethel continues to excel in school and just finished up 2nd grade. She reads like it's her job and is still as artistic as ever. She began to lose some focus toward the end of the school year, something which we're trying to target to keep from getting too far off track. She's hot a huge heart, but often times her desire to help others keeps her from doing her own work. I admire her charity and am insanely proud of all her accomplishments this school year. She's excited to have a teacher she knows pretty well when she returns for third grade in August.

Hot Dad has finally found a hobby which I think is sustainable. He's joined a Lego User Group and spends lots of time building, researching, and sorting Legos at home. It's an activity the kids can get in to, and Ethel has taken to it like a fish to water. The two of them could play with Legos for days on end if I let them.

I have not just returned to running, I have regained my love of running. I started out slowly in the fall and slowly brought myself back to decent mileage, and along with that came some speed. I'm not breaking land speed records, but I am pretty happy with the way things are right now. I've run a lot, raced a bunch, and am having a great time.

I completed a Whole30 program in April as part of my attempt to kick start my diet and continue on the Paleo way. I can't say enough about how much I learned about food, my body, my mind, and my overall health. It was difficult at times, but I couldn't be happier with myself for sticking with it. I continue to eat clean and still feel great. I hope to soon post my daily diary that I kept during April. I also hope to jump the whole family into better eating, clean eating. We'll see how that goes.

Pictures and more details will follow, of course. I just completed my second Ragnar Relay Chicago, and am trying to readjust to life at home. It's funny how quickly one can adapt to the fast-paced life of Ragnar, living in a van with five others, yet, it takes several days to get used to being back to the life you spend every day living. It's crazy.

More will follow soon, I promise!

Itasca Runners in the 2nd Annual Virtual Run for Sherry

I think this says it all

Saturday February 9th was the 2nd Annual Run for Sherry. Sherry Arnold, a wife and mother of two, set out on a morning run in January 2012, only to be abducted and murdered barely a mile from her home. Sherry's story is not the only one of its kind, but, it sparked a movement in the running community, especially among mother runners, to remind us all that safety is paramount in our sport.

Itasca Runners, running for Sherry

The Itasca Runners Club is a non-profit organization based in Itasca, IL, northwest of the city of Chicago, which brings together runners of all paces and experience, and gives back to the community through events like their annual Oktoberfast 5K race. The group represents the community feel of the small town of Itasca, but their reach into the running community extends much farther. The Club meets each Saturday morning at 7AM at the local Starbucks and runs a five mile course through the beautiful, tree lined streets of Itasca. There is never a shortage of support for all who run with the Club, and smiles, laughter, and conversation abound as the group revels in a job well done after each run. The Itasca Starbucks is a gracious host to the runners when they return from their run, allowing everyone to come indoors to warm up or cool down (depending on the time of year) with a drink and a snack, or just to enjoy each others company before returning home and getting on with the weekend.

Representing the giving spirit of the club, the Runners participated in the 2nd Annual Run for Sherry, including Club members and non-members alike. The virtual run is an effort to raise awareness for runner safety, and honor the memory of a fellow runner, and mother. None of the Runners knew Sherry personally, but her story is a true reminder of the gift we have been given through running, and that we cannot take this gift for granted. 

The size of the group on February 9th is a testimony to the giving spirit of the Itasca Runners, who spread the word about the virtual run and invited others to join them. It was a beautiful morning for a run, by Chicago area standards. There was fresh snow on the ground, temperatures in the upper 20's, and the scenery was nearly perfect with snow on the trees lining the streets. After the mild winter this area has had thus far, it was nice to be able to enjoy the wintry beauty that morning.

Itasca Runners, along the five mile route

After the run, the group gathered at Starbucks to enjoy hot drinks and some breakfast. We talked about Sherry's story and how it has impacted our individual efforts in running, and the reminder to us all just how fortunate we are to have this group to run with.

Post-run time at Starbucks

Whether you ran, walked, did cartwheels, or had a dance party with your kids at home, I hope you were able to participate in the 2nd Annual Virtual Run for Sherry. If you're a runner and you don't run with a local running group to run with, do look for one. It's amazing the difference it makes in your confidence, and running with others makes the miles go by so much faster.

 If you ran (walked, skipped, jumped) for Sherry, tell me how it went! And seriously, if you're a runner and don't have a local group that you run with, look one up today! It will make a difference whether you only like to run a few miles a week, or you're training for a marathon. There's a lot to be said for having familiar, friendly faces to help you along.

I've met my match, but I will win

The miracle of life....a few years into it...

I have always loved children. From a very early age, I knew that I was going to grow up and be a mom. I was drawn to children, even while I was still a child (in hindsight) myself. After years and years of babysitting and caring for other peoples' children, I kind of had a vision of how I wanted to raise my own kids eventually. Mine was not the romantic vision of perfectly swaddled, sleeping babies and fancy clothes and cute little voices saying, 'I love you' {but, let's admit, who doesn't long for the day when they first hear that, right?}. No, my vision was well seeded in the reality of baby bottles, puke, poop, late nights, and food smeared everywhere but in their mouths.

As a caregiver, it's easy to have all the answers. Even when I worked in the child care industry, it was easy to judge from my $6.75/hour administrative pedestal and wonder how some parents got out of bed every day, let alone how they kept a small human alive from day to day. The truth is, just like pregnancy and child birth, there are secrets that other parents know that they aren't going to tell you. It's the only way the human race can continue, because if you knew what you were in for before you 'took the job', the end of humankind would be upon us faster than Taylor Swift can write another breakup song. When you're single and the only thing that depends on you shits in a box and only looks at you when they want to, it's hard to understand the gravity of what having a child really does to you.

Looking back, that spinal block and morphene drip in the delivery room were a cake walk compared to having to guide a child through the murky waters of childhood. And what I wouldn't give for that drip almost every other day.The warning nobody issues to future or even new parents - that thing is going to learn to talk someday.

Once you become a parent, you kind of get this false sense of having your act together. Heck, you might have your own place, a job, a car, and you and your partner figure you want to do your part to show parents everywhere how it's done and become parents yourselves. You get cocky. Good for you. Little do we know, when we reach that point, that we are soon to become the dumbest people on the planet. At least according to the little creatures we bring into the world.

I have a hot temper. Over the years, I've developed coping mechanisms to deal with it, and overall, I think the fact that I haven't murdered anyone is pretty good testament to my anger management skills. I don't support cannibalism, nor do I much like the mere thought of anything raw, but one thing that parenting has taught me - I fully understand why in some species, mothers eat their young. Fully. 100%. I get it.

After going through it twice, I can handle the trials and tribulations that come with the toddler stage. It's a stage, it passes, and if you're lucky, the kid still wants a hug and a kiss at bed time. If you're even luckier, they will eat their vegetables.

I enjoy watching the human baby grow and develop. From learning to breathe air outside the womb, to holding their head up, to recognizing their name, to self feeding, to walking and talking, I am all about those early years. For me, there's something so cool about being there to be part of this awesome thing called human development. Things start to go south for me, though, once autonomy begins to play a larger role. Don't get me wrong, I'm equally mystified by the human child expanding their world and learning about letters, numbers, shapes, and animals. That first recitation of the alphabet is like magic. The first time. By the 3,289th recitation, you start to count the minutes until bed time.

Being the adult, you also figure you've got the upper hand and you know more than the human child that sits next to you at the dinner table. Of course you do. With decades of life experience and years of education behind you, you've got it covered and you can't wait to share what you know with your little dumpling. Suddenly, though, you start to make simple mistakes. You're calling things by the wrong name. You're forgetting promises you made minutes before. You start to think that perhaps you haven't actually caught up on all that lost sleep from those first few colicky months, or that you shouldn't have had that last beer the night before because it's fogging your ability to recall or think clearly.

Then it dawns on you.

I'm arguing over snack choices with a seven year old. And I'm losing.

You can remember all 7,329 passwords you have at work, and the other 2,437 you have at home, but you somehow forgot that you told that little girl she could have a chocolate chip cookie when she came home from school, and you mistakenly offered her crackers. You are a horrible human being. You are hurting people.

The next thing you know, you're referring to a piece of paper that is NOT A WORKSHEEET, IT'S HOMEWORK! And before you know it, you slip off the edge and you're asking about today's gym class and WE' DIDN'T HAVE GYM TODAY!!!! What the hell is wrong with you????

Faced with tears, angry scowls, and accusations that you are mean and "don't love me", you grovel and beg for forgiveness, apologize and make more promises that you'll surely forget, and do anything you can to make this better - and stop the tears. Oh stop the tears. They get me every time.

Do you need to go back to your therapist and get tips for sharpening the mind? More ginko biloba in your diet? Leave yourself notes? Switch to decaf? Maybe more caff?

Children have a knack for beating parents into submission, and parents have an uncanny ability to submit to this treatment. Looking back at my days working in day care, I wish I'd understood why parents were all but kicking their kids out in the parking lot in the morning, or why they were barely saying to good bye to me after leaving pizza money on the counter when I babysat on Friday nights. They needed relief. They needed the reassurance of other adults that they were not, indeed, losing their minds. Well, they may have been, but, they needed to know they weren't alone. All parents are losing their minds.

I am lucky to be surrounded by a wonderful community of mothers, and we all share our stories and advice and successes and failures. It's the only thing that's kept me off the heavy meds, out of the ward, and out of the social service system. Honestly, I never imagined that having a second grader would drive me to truly question my own sanity.

I am about as stubborn as they come. Deep down, I'm open and honest and as I've gotten older, I've learned to keep an open mind and to keep my cool when I want most to rip someone's head off. Still, I will be the first to flip to devil's advocate without warning, and heaven forbid you try to tell me what I like, want, or "have to" do.

My daughter, as my mother always wished, is so much like me. She's emotional, warm, caring, and sweeter than honey, but if you ever call that paper in her backpack a 'worksheet', you'd better hope your life insurance is paid in full.

This is not to say that I haven't passed this important life skill on to my son. Fred is passionate, funny, and determined, and he's a boy who knows what he wants, and knows what he hears. I'm still trying to determine if there are other voices he's hearing, or if perhaps I frequently speak in tongues, because he tends to hear things that I am fairly certain aren't being spoken. Who am I to say, though, I'm just a parent, and am learning that I am not the smartest one in the home.

Every generation looks back and thinks, "If I ever spoke to my parents the way children speak today...", and "We couldn't even use a calculator in school", and the most famous of all, "I had to walk to and from school every day....". But who ever imagines that they're going to be the parent in that successive generation where their kids do talk that way, or do use a calculator in school, or {insert shudder} get a ride to school when it snows?

In recent years I've picked up running. I've never before seen this competitive side of myself which comes out through my running. It has spilled over into my parenting in many ways. I'm the competi-mom, and I see that pouring out of my kids. Ethel took AR tests in kindergarten like it was a paying job, trying to beat her BFF and her brother. Fred tries to keep up with his sister, and then surpass her in everything from how quickly to scarf down a bowl of cereal to getting to the top of the stairs first (and usually at any cost).

Now, I am finding myself going head-to-head with my children. They think they are smarter than I, they think they can break me. They think I will submit. Oh, how sadly wrong they are. I will call that piece of paper a worksheet. I will offer whatever the hell I want to for a snack. I'm stubborn like that.

In the last few months I have come to realize that I've become the putty my children are trying to mold me into. Rather than standing my ground and demanding certain things, I have fallen victim to years of sleep deprivation, nonsense words, big brown and blue eyes, and sweet hugs and kisses, and I'm losing ground. I am coming back, though, I recognize my enemy(ies), and I see the light at the end of the tunnel. I am the mom. I am stubborn.

I have decided to fight the good fight and take my children along the path that I so carefully laid out in the years before they came into my life. Well, it's more of the frontage road to the path, there are some u-turns, it's kind of bumpy, and the lines need to be repainted, but I'm taking them on it.

Some days are better than others. Some days require more wine than others. Then more coffee. And in the end, a good run always helps me clear my mind and regain the knowledge that I lose when losing the battle of wills over worksheets, gym class, and what I will serve for a snack.