Advice to my kids in the future

Write your teachers notes...meaningful notes.

I just got one from a student today and it meant the world to me.

Teachers don't always know what their students are thinking, and though we try our hardest to do the right things and teach our hearts out and show how much we care about our students, teenagers are teenagers and they are hard to read at best.

So when a student takes the time to write a note - a heartfelt note - telling her teacher that her class was a bright spot in her day and thanking her for being understanding and supportive and passionate about what she does, a note that talks about the struggles that were hidden and the little things that  her teacher did to help her through those struggles, it means so very much.

Your teachers care tremendously.  Some more than others.  If you recognize that in them, you should tell them.

So, kids, my advice to you today: pick a teacher that cared and tell him or her how much that meant to you.  It will mean even more to them.  Trust me.

10 weeks...

I have been quite the slacker when it comes to writing these posts.  Somehow, I always feel like I am going to have so much more time to do things like this in the summer.  But that just isn't the case.

Sometimes, I feel that we put our lives on hold for 42 weeks of the year and we have to live it all in these 10 short weeks of summer.  Considering all that we do and accomplish in the school year, I realize that isn't true, but the contrast of feeling like everything is a balancing act (and a tough one at that) during the school year versus the freedom to just do things in the summer is a stark one.  And we always seem to put things off until the summer.  And then most of those things don't get done, anyway, because, well, it is only 10 weeks, after all.  And when you spend your time at the pool, at the zoo, at family picnics, at the museums, riding bikes, running, going to gymnastics, and catching fireflies, it is hard to tackle those major projects.

I just haven't figured out how to maintain this casual and free feeling into the school year, when I have about 50+ hours a week less time to do all of the things that I am enjoying these days, plus the things I don't enjoy so much, like cleaning and grocery shopping.  And this year is going to be a doozy...with Cortlan and Everly in two different schools, with two different days and times for gymnastics and soccer, with my fall play stuff, with John's federation stuff...and then Cortlan's allergist recommended that he get allergy shots once a week. (I am still trying to figure out which day that would work.)

But the bottom line is that we are having a great summer and we are so lucky to have these 10 weeks to spend together and make great memories.  The kids spent a good bit of time arguing and making me crazy for a while, but that has lessened considerably in the last week.  We still have a great beach vacation to look forward to, and plenty more time to enjoy the summer life.

And enjoy, we will...

Tomorrow is a new day.

• It is nice to have someone in your life that truly knows you.  It is even better when that person is your husband.  (I love you, John.)
• These days, I am a little sad about time passing and my kids growing up.  I miss looking at them in the back seat holding hands instead of grabbing things from each other and bickering.  I knew that those days were going to be short lived...I just was wishing we could beat the odds.
• Some teachers say that their favorite days of the school year are the first and last...as a person bad with change, those happen to be my least favorites. 
• Parenting challenges of the past seem so easy now.  I remember the stress of trying to figure out how to get my babies to sleep through the night, and what to feed them, and potty training...and I wish I could go back to those issues.  Things seem so much harder now.  But maybe that is simply because I lived through those problems already and came out on the other side.  If I could do it once, I could (probably) do it again.  But now I am in uncharted territory, and I am not enjoying it.
• I am looking forward to having coffee on my deck on a weekday at 6am.  I think I may get up early on my first day of summer break just so I can enjoy that peace and the knowledge that the whole summer is ahead of me.  
• Some days are tough.  Sometimes things snowball.  Sometimes things throw me for a loop, completely out of the blue and I don't know how to react or respond without making things worse.  Fortunately, those days are few.  And fortunately, I have people to lean on when those days come around every now and then.

About that race...the finish!

Between the lack of bathrooms without huge lines, some (minimal) navigation issues, and the uphill and trail runs that some of us had, the second half of our 77.7 mile run was definitely a little bit more challenging than the first.  But it was no less fun.  And it was amazing how quickly the many hours flew by.

By the time I got to my second leg of the race, the sun had warmed things up enough for me to brave removing a layer or so of running gear.  I felt the pain for runner 4 (who had the hardest leg of the race - a huge and pretty steep uphill climb) as I ran for a little less than a mile downhill and then the remaining almost 4 miles uphill.  I was glad for the many miles I had run around my house, with the rolling hills of the area serving me well for the uphill climb.  But still, my pace slowed and my calves screamed as I made my way up.  And up.

The first (and easiest) part of my second leg...I can definitely learn a few things about my running form from this pic.

Unlike my first leg, when I had passed no one and no one had passed me, there were many more people around for this 4.8 miles.  The hill did many people in; I passed 8 or 9 people but I also got passed by a few people.  I worked hard.  I had to force myself to look around and enjoy the scenery.  I was so happy to see the exchange point and I was so proud of my average pace for the difficult run: 8:16/mile.

The lake was beautiful.  The sky was clear.  The route took us through a state park and past many more wineries and distilleries.  Amanda's leg of the race took her past the winery where she was married.  The evening was upon us.  With an 8 am start, our projected time of finish was 7:03 pm if we were to hold to the 8:30 pace chart.  With some legs we would gain a minute, but with others we would lose a couple.  The uphills were challenging.  The fatigue of getting up at 6 am and running twice already was catching up to us a bit.

My third leg was my shortest leg, and despite my legs having already carried me over nine miles, it was the most fun.  I actually still felt pretty good.  I was really enjoying the day and was definitely excited to see what I could do, having never run three times in the same day before.  As Amanda ran in for the exchange, I lived up to our team name (70's Seven - You Should See Us Dance!) and danced her in.

Then I took off.

I had a great deal of confidence as I left, knowing I had nothing to lose, that I didn't have to save anything, and that we had all done our best.  I knew the worst was behind me and that this was it.  I enjoyed my music.  I enjoyed the fresh air.  I enjoyed the scenery.  As I approached my last hill of the day, I enjoyed the steady pace that I found.  I passed a few people who had slowed to a walk, and got passed by one or two, as well.

One of the people I passed was not happy about it.  She was walking when I passed her going up a hill, but I felt her right behind me as I came to the crest of the hill.  I wasn't sure how far the exchange point was from there, but when I crested the hill, I saw it.  I started to speed up.  So did she.  I sped up more.  She did, too.  By the time we got to the exchange, we were both in a full sprint, with teammates cheering us on.  Unfortunately, we would have to cross paths to get to our teammates.  We got a little tangled, but my teammate took off first.  I finished the leg with a 7:59/mile average...slower than my first leg, but I was thrilled to have broken 8:00 on my third run of the day.

The next stop would be the end of the race, where we would all reunite and cross the finish line together.  There were many start times for the race, with some people starting as early as 7 am and waves leaving every half hour until 9:30 am.  The 9:30 groups were the fastest.  Their goal was to pass everyone along the way and finish before the 7 am groups.  So, as we jubilantly crossed the finish line, we had no idea how we really did in comparison to everyone else.  But, it didn't even matter.  We couldn't have been prouder of ourselves.

Initially, we weren't sure if we would finish by 8 pm.  Then we set our sights much higher.  We ended up crossing the finish line at 7:12 pm...11 hours and 12 minutes after we had begun our race.  Our average pace was 8:38/mile.  When we woke in the morning, we discovered that we had placed 5th (out of 35) in the all-women groups and 87th (out of 209) overall.

Our team finish!

This was definitely a race that I will never forget.  I met some awesome women, laughed my butt off, and ran my heart out.  We exceeded our own expectations and had an amazing day filled with memories and experiences that will last a lifetime.  Thanks, girls, for a great race.  For a great day.

About that race...part 2

As runner three took off, we all got in the car, with runners five, six, and seven thinking of coffee more than anything.  Fortunately, not far along the drive to the next checkpoint was a little gas station.  I ran in quickly, and it was like a scene from an old movie - the sheriff sat at the counter enjoying his cup of coffee and some small-town conversation with the owner.  I filled three cups, and the owner asked, "Are you involved with this running thing that is going on?"  Yep.  I am running around the lake as part of a team of seven women.

We got to the next checkpoint with about ten minutes to spare, and then off went runner four.  Our short term goal became to find bathrooms that didn't have a long line before quickly heading to the next checkpoint.  Fortunately, there were several port-a-potties at this stop, which was one of many wineries along the way.  Unfortunately, port-a-potties without lines would not to be the norm for the next many hours.

Runners 7, 5, and 6

I began to get a touch nervous as runner five (Amanda) sped off.  There would be another bathroom trip necessary.  I was worried about what I had eaten (and not eaten).  I was definitely not used to running in the late morning. As my turn approached, I was glad that a teammate had packed some energy chews.  I ate a few and downed some water.  My adrenaline started and I anxiously awaited as Amanda flew in to the exchange point.  I grabbed the slap bracelet, slapped it onto my arm, and went.

Heading out for my first leg of the race...

It was cold.  Only in the upper 30's at best, I was not quite sure what to wear.  But once I got moving, I warmed up quickly.  Starting off, my legs felt wobbly and unsure, and I had to mentally move them for a while before I felt them calm down and I was able to find a comfortable stride.  I was excited when my team drove by, honking the horn, ringing the cow bell, and cheering me on.  I would see them again soon.  The rolling hills were much like the roads I run around my house.  I could handle them.  I ran along a relatively isolated road with but one person ahead of me, just out of reach.  I focused on him, and, for a while, thought I might be able to catch him.  I did close a bit of distance, but never did reach him.  I passed no one, but no one passed me, either.  I passed the slap bracelet to the last runner on our team.  My pace on this 4.6 mile leg: 7:42/mile.

Just finished my first leg and made the hand off

I stretched for a minute or two before we took off in the Yukon again.  My next focus was to eat.  Never have an avocado smeared on bread and a hard-boiled egg tasted so good.

We would do the whole thing twice more.  Getting out of the car, cheering one runner in as the next went off, getting back into the car, passing by our teammate, honking and yelling and ringing the cow bell, finding bathrooms (or sides of roads), sneaking in food when and where we could (the pit stop halfway through for pizza was one of the best decisions).  We were pretty close to being on our lofty-goal average pace of 8:30...at least for the first half of the race, which was predominately down hill.  The second half proved to be more of a challenge, as it was just as much uphill to get back to where we started.

Mmmm...pizza!

To be continued...

About that race...part 1

One year ago, I was getting ready to run a half marathon in the city.  I am not running it this year, but the weekend immediately before Cortlan's surgery escapade was another running adventure for me...

That Saturday morning, I headed out for a five hour drive to meet up with two members of a seven member team that I would be running with on Sunday.  It was April 20th, and less than 45 minutes away from my house, I hit the first of many snow squalls of the drive.  Beyond the snow, the drive was uneventful and easy; I enjoyed  listening to the radio stations of my choice.

When I got to my destination, I headed to the salon where my friends were and where I got a great new look with a new haircut.  We headed to lunch, went back home to pack our running gear and get situated for the next day, stopped at the grocery store for a few items, and then we were off to the lake house owned by one of the other members of our seven member team.

The lake house was beautiful and spacious.  The three of us were assigned a bedroom that had three twin beds in it.  We dropped our stuff and headed back downstairs for some introductions and socializing; eventually, we made dinner and ate at around 9 pm.  Many laughs and discussions of when we were going to get up and out of the house later, we made our way to bed a bit before midnight...definitely a late night for me, and far later than I have ever stayed up the night before a race.  But we had a great time, and I didn't drive five hours to just sleep!

The rules said that we were to arrive by 7 am to pick up our race packet.  Our entire team had to be there to sign something; the race started at 8 am.  Not everyone in our group agreed that we should abide by this rule.  In fact, by the time we left the lake house, it was 7 am.  I was quite worried that we would miss the opportunity to pick up our packet or that we would somehow be disqualified.  Those fears intensified when I realized the lake house was almost 40 minutes away from the starting point.

The third car in a three car caravan, we nervously watched as the lead drivers spoke out of their windows to race officials and police officers.  They were given instructions and information.  A couple of people got out of the car.  One shrugged her shoulders at us.  I was sure our race was over before it even started.

We finally were able to find a parking space and reconnect with our group.  I was amazed and relieved when I was asked to sign a paper and our team leader was told where to pick up our packet.  We quickly got our bibs pinned on and headed back outside.  We attempted to get a group picture, but the race was minutes away from starting.  The first runner made it to the starting line with no time to spare; the second runner ran after the shuttle that would take her to the first checkpoint as it drove past us.  The remaining five of us got in the Yukon and drove to the second checkpoint.  The adventure had begun.

The race was around a long, skinny lake - Seneca Lake in New York - and was 77.7 miles long.  There were seven of us that would cover that distance as a team, each with three legs of a total of 21 legs.  I was runner six.  Being that I had no coffee or breakfast to speak of, I was quite happy to have a bit of time before I had to run and was hopeful that somewhere along the route I could get a cup.

After we waited in line for quite a while for the bathroom at the second checkpoint, we saw a shuttle arrive and our first runner get off.  Now a group of six, we anxiously awaited our runner #2 and cheered her in as runner #3 took off.  We had a couple of loose goals:  first, to finish the race; second, to not get kicked off the course or picked up by the sweeper van because we didn't finish by the 7:58 pm race cut off.  Our third and most lofty goal was to keep up with the time estimator in the back of our map book.  It told us when to arrive at each check point if we were to average an 8:30 pace.  Our group was composed of women with a wide variety of experience and training - one was training for a marathon and had missed qualifying for Boston last year by 35 seconds, one had gone to college on a cross country scholarship, one had just run her first race in March and it was a five-miler.  Our paces ranged from the mid-7's to the mid 10's.

To be continued...

Random Stuff

• It kind of stinks when you come to find that the people who you thought were older than you are actually the same age as you...and that you probably look "that old," too.  I suppose what is more important is how old I am on the inside, right?
• I had to take Everly to the doctor's office this morning.  Turns out that there is nothing wrong, but she was devastated when she found out that she couldn't get a shot...To the point that the doctor asked if she had her flu shot yet, in hopes that we could find some shot to give her. 
• Cortlan's sleep study came back abnormal.  We meet with the surgeon who recommended the study on Monday to go over it, but the preliminary results that I have received indicate sleep apnea and the surgery that he went in for in December is once again recommended.  We will know more on Monday.
• I am forced to wonder if there are any jobs that are low-stress these days.  I can tell you that teaching sure isn't one of them.
• Cortlan has been learning how to spell many words.  The latest:  b-u-t-t.  The funny thing is the look he got on his face the first time he spelled it for me, and that he has only spelled it and hasn't actually said it.  It could be worse.
• There is something about February that makes it seem like the longest month of the year.  And there is something about it that makes me yearn for the beach.  
• I am a big fan of dance parties in the kitchen while I am cooking.  And my kids laughing.

Windowsill Beach

Today, after school, we painted.

There is nothing like the abstract art that you can make with Crayola washable paint.

One of Everly's masterpieces

One of Cortlan's masterpieces

And there is nothing like joining in.

One of my masterpieces

Perhaps my favorite part was the naming of my paintings by Everly, who decided the best name for my painting above was "Windowsill Beach."  Somehow, it is perfect.

Reflecting

Maybe it is because I haven't been paying enough attention. 
Maybe it is because there is just so much going on.
Maybe it is because I spend more of my time diffusing arguments, dealing with bickering and tattling, and trying to figure out ways to contend with the behavior issues that come with having a near-four and a six year old.
Maybe it is just because my children are growing up and it takes more effort, in general, to effectively parent them.

In any case, I haven't been very good at enjoying the moments lately.

Don't worry - there is nothing wrong.  I am totally fine.  The thing is, I am just...well, fine.

Fine is fine.  It really is.  But, two years ago, after I had started this blog and was consistently writing for a while, I felt way better than fine.  I had so much to write about.  I was finding those kairos moments more often than not.  Back then, I got a long taste of that feeling that is too often fleeting these days. 

That is how I started the blog post that I began earlier this afternoon.

I didn't have a chance to get much farther in writing it, as my five "allotted" minutes at the end of the day were up so soon and it was time to head out to get the kids.

John and I drove to work together today, and, after getting the kids, we realized that there was enough time for one of us to go home to get something accomplished while the other took the kids to gymnastics.  He graciously offered to take them so that I could go for a run.

Typically, I would have said "no," as I have a standing 8pm running date on Tuesdays with at least one of my two consistent running buddies.  But today my partners were unable to run with me.  A schedule conflict was the reason for one, and for the other, the 5 degree temperature with wind chills at least that many degrees below zero played a large part.  To be honest, I was a bit hesitant myself, but in the daylight the weather seemed much less daunting, and I felt like I needed to go.

So, John dropped me off at the house and I donned many layers.  I headed out without my watch, without my ipod, and without my friends. 

Immediately, I felt a sense of peace that I haven't felt in a while.

And somewhere around mile 3, it hit me:  Maybe, just maybe, I haven't had an easy time enjoying the moments lately because I haven't had time to think about them.  I haven't spent the necessary time to reflect.  I haven't spent much time at all alone with nothing but my thoughts.  Here I was, with nothing to do but move one foot in front of the other and think.  And it took me three miles to realize what it was doing to me.  And what it did to me was a great thing.

I absolutely love running with my friends.  I truly, truly do.  And I will continue to do so, because it allows me to exercise and socialize and have great conversations with great ladies - a perfect combination for this multi-tasker who has so little time for a social life.  My friends get me out of the door in the dark and cold, when I know I would never do it on my own.  And I never, ever regret running those five miles with them. 

But those days, not so very long ago, when I had so much to write about?  Those days full of kairos moments?  Those were the same days that included me running by myself for five days a week.  Running solo 20-30 miles is great therapy.  It is much needed time to process and regroup.  It is often the only time during the week that I can slow my brain and assimilate everything.

Over the next mile or so, I thought of many things.  Life changes; I don't doubt that many of the things that I mentioned at the start of this post contribute to how I feel.  I also don't doubt that writing this blog less has something to do with it, because the less I am writing, the less I am reflecting.  I do think that giving myself the opportunity to think and be alone with my thoughts every now and then is an important part of that sense of balance for which I always seem to be striving.  And I do think it is possible for me to gain back that sense of ease at appreciating the moments.

Time to readjust.
Again.

Happy New Year 2013

The year 2012 did not necessarily end on a high note for us...with a funeral, a trip to the ER on Christmas Eve, nearly everyone in my family (including extended family) getting sick, and being holed up in the house and having to cancel or postpone plans with friends and family we were to get together with, I seriously could use a do-over for the last couple of weeks.

But there were some great things that happened through the year...new friendships developed, old ones were reaffirmed and strengthened, new memories were made and milestones reached, growth and change happened all around us.  Those things cannot be overlooked.  Life is good.

Still not one for resolutions, I do appreciate the sense of starting fresh and beginning a new journey.  I feel as though I lost focus of a few things last year, and my hope is to bring the right things back into perspective.  In comparison to the prior couple of years, for one reason or another, I would say that I was a bit more negative, self-doubting, and insecure in 2012.  I would like to change that.  I would like to continue to strive for balance and renew my efforts to savor the moments in life that make it so special.

Shortly after the clock struck 12 last night, my neighbor said, "I resolve to be happy in 2013!"

Sounds good to me.

Half Marathon #3

When I ran a half marathon through the city streets in May, though I was proud and satisfied, I was mostly happy it was over.  I enjoyed the race only on some mental level that I am not quite satisfied with, or at least not enough to want a repeat performance.  The early-bird registration for the 2013 version of that race has come and gone, and I have no desire to sign up.  After that race, I took a short break and then resumed running, though without any goals in mind.  I continued running, often meeting with a new running partner, through the summer, and then, surprisingly, into the fall.  My mileage steadily increased as my friend and I talked away the dark evening miles after the kids were in bed during the week and I headed out at daybreak on the weekends.  With no goal in mind, I actually wasn't sure when to stop or what to do.  In late September, my friend finally convinced me to run the half marathon that she was training for; somewhat reluctantly, I did.

My reluctance was largely due to the fact that I was kind of enjoying the no pressure runs.  With no plan, I didn't have any regrets when I cut a run short.  I didn't care if I did sprints, or hill workouts, or tempo runs.  When I felt like it, I went a bit faster, when I didn't, I went slower.  But I also felt as though I needed a "grand finale" to this season of running.  Not that I am going to totally stop, but I kind of was missing something to work for, after which I could give myself permission to cool it for a bit.

About a month prior to the race, I signed up not having the slightest clue as to how I would do.  I had certainly been putting in the miles.  At my peak, I was running over 30 miles a week; typically, more in the 26-28 range.  I knew I had it in me to finish without an issue.  I had also done some workouts with my friend here and there when our schedules aligned and we wanted to.  But I really didn't know what to expect from myself.  Therefore, I didn't put a whole lot of pressure on myself. 

It was a chilly morning, with threatening rain.  My friend picked me up at 6:30 AM and five of us drove the 40 minutes or so to the race packet pick-up location.  We got our timing chips and bags and got on the school bus that served as the shuttle to the start.  Once there, we headed into the heated building that was available.  I did my fair share of waiting in lines for the porta potties but otherwise managed to stay warm.  Soon, it was time to line up.

The five of us that drove together split off, with two sticking together and the rest of us going at it alone.  The gun went off and so did we.  Stuck in a large pack, I jockeyed myself through the sea of people until I was in a comfortable place with some elbow room.  We ran on the streets for about half of a mile, and then a hairpin turn took us down onto a trail that is part of a "Rails to Trails" program - unused railways have been converted into running paths; the rails are gone and crushed gravel and, in some places, asphalt have been put in their place.  As soon as I got onto the trail, I knew I was going to love this race.

One of the guys that rode with us had a similar race plan as me...we both planned to start at around an 8 minute mile pace and adjust from there.  When I was approaching the hairpin turn, I spotted him heading the other direction.  I got to within about six feet of him and decided to hang there behind him for a while.  He had no idea I was there, and I later found out that he thought I was ahead of him.  I let him pace me at between 7:55 and 8:00 miles for a while before he noticed me.  I was surprised at how easily I was able to maintain that pace, but I still didn't feel confident enough to speed up at all.

I had thrown together a play list the night before, and I was loving it.  At around mile 7 or 8, a great song came on that made me itch to run faster.  I pulled up beside my friend and said, "Are you ready?" He said, "You go."  I did.

As I ran, oftentimes singing along to my music, I was struck by the beauty of the course.  All around me were trees with beautiful fall foliage.  At one point, to my right was a lake.  For much of the course, there was a creek to my left.  I passed a water fall.  There were boulders and cliffs.  The skies cleared and the sun shined through the tree branches.  Leaves, blown by the slight breeze, fluttered down.  For a little while, I tried to catch them as I ran, thinking that Cortlan and Everly would love to have a leaf that I caught during my race.  I soaked it all up and enjoyed it; this was such a different experience than May. 

And I could hardly believe it, but my legs felt great. 

As I came upon mile 10, I still felt like I had another gear left.  In that mile, I averaged 7:51 as I slowly caught and passed people.  I did the same for mile 11.  Something fantastic happened in mile 12 and without looking at my watch until the end of the mile, I was able to average a 7:36.  With 0.2 mile to go, I could see the finish line and I began to go as fast as my legs could carry me...I brought it home with a 6:59 pace.

With low expectations, a beautiful downhill course, and what turned out to be perfect race conditions, I finished with a personal record of 1:43:05.70.  What's even better is that this may be one of my favorite runs ever.

_____________________________________________

Here are my results:

Finish time: 1:43:05.70
Overall Place: 164/822
Division Place: 7/87
Female Place: 35/426
Average Pace: 7:52/mi

Well, that didn't go as planned...

So, I thought that if I got a chance to write today it would go a little differently, but things don't always work out as planned.

When I picked Cortlan up from school on Monday, I noticed he was a little flushed.  When I gave him a hug, he felt warm.  So, I took his temperature and, sure enough, it was 101.  I called the ENT's office and asked if this would affect the surgery.  The answer I got was a hopeful (but not promising) "the surgery will most likely go on."  The thought was that there would be enough time between then and Thursday to fight whatever it was that he needed to fight, and we would go as planned.  I was also told that they would likely proceed with the surgery if the temperature was mild.

Cort's temp was less than 100 on Tuesday, but when I picked him up from school yesterday (Wednesday) it was back up to 101.  I began to worry, but still felt hopeful, as he was acting like his normal self and even wanted to ride his scooter around the neighborhood.

We got up this morning as usual.  John took Everly to school and Cort and I left for the surgery center with him comfy in his PJs.  John met us there.  We sat in the waiting room for a bit and then were moved to an exam room.  One person after another came in asking us questions and giving us information.  One nurse took his temperature (it was normal) and blood pressure.  One went over procedures with us and gave us a hospital shirt and booties for him to wear.  Someone took a reading of his blood oxygen levels.    Everyone asked us questions, including about his recent health, and I was truthful about the temperature and minor symptoms he has been experiencing.  Things continued to proceed.  A nurse told us what would happen with the anesthesia.  Then the anesthesiologist came in.  And then the surgeon, who had been told about the temperature.  A discussion ensued, and it finally came out that despite the fact that the anesthesiologist had no concerns for Cortlan's safety or health during the procedure, the recovery may be another issue.  The doctor did not want to proceed with the surgery.

Obviously, I don't want Cortlan's recovery to be any more difficult than it need to be and I know the right decision was made.  But, I have been having a very stressful couple of weeks.  Having things planned, and then - by surprise - changing the plans kind of makes me lose it more than it should, admittedly.  I handle things much better when I have time to prepare.  Despite the fact that I knew it was a possibility, I had not prepared for the fact that the surgery had to be canceled.  So, the doctor might think I am a little bit of a wacko right now.  (John might, too, but I am pretty sure he already knew.)

Finding a date that worked for this surgery was a challenge.  Finding a new one - even more so. In this case, it isn't necessarily the surgery, but the two weeks of recovery that come after.  I don't want Cort to miss out on the holidays.  I don't want the surgery to be when I am in New York City for school.  I don't want the surgery to be on the day of Cortlan's fall festival for which he has worked so hard for months to prepare. 

After getting the news and some awkwardness, we went across the hall to get a chest x-ray.  We went to his pediatricians.  We stopped by the ENT's office to schedule another surgery.  This time it will be on December 5th, and we are praying that he will be healthy for it.  At least we will know what to expect.

Can this count as 4 posts?

A couple weeks later and here we are. This is what has been happening.

EVERLY:

• has started calling her brother "Cotlan" instead of "Totlan."
• wore jewelry to school three out of five days last week; one of those days, she got her necklace taken away because she wouldn't stop playing with it, even when her teacher asked her repeatedly not to. She's not allowed to wear that one to school anymore.
• changed her clothes three or four times this morning before leaving for school. Ultimately, she wanted to wear a sweater. As soon as we got to school, she took it off anyway.
• has been getting out of her bed regularly at night. I finally told her that I am going to start marking down how many times she gets out of bed, and there are going to be consequences if she gets too many marks. (I have yet to figure out how many is "too many.")  Last night, she didn't get out of bed until 11pm, when she woke to go potty. (She won't get a mark for that.)
• loves cutting and gluing, is very good at recognizing her letters and letter sounds, and is very motivated to learn.
• thinks that she can spell, because she keeps randomly spouting off letters and asking me what that spells. For example: "Mommy, what does 't-t-t-t-l-p-l-r-y' spell?." Usually, I sound out what she spells and then tell her it isn't a word. Once, though, she said, "Mommy, what does 'e-a-r-l-y' spell?" I had to give that one to her. Cortlan was amazed she could spell "early".
• doesn't care much about saving things. When she is done, it can be thrown away.
• started gymnastics and loves it. Though, she needed to be sure to have the ponytail holder that matched the leotard she wore.

CORTLAN:

• laughs and says "You kicked me?? No you didn't!" when his sister clearly means "tricked." He calls her on her mispronunciations all the time...maybe that is why she has started to say his name right.
• was on "yellow" three out of five days last week at school when we picked him up. This isn't as bad as red, but he should be on green. His teacher said, "He was being way too silly with his friends."
• has been doing a great job at getting himself dressed in the morning. For the most part.
• seems to be taking advantage of his color blindness (for John's benefit: his color vision deficiency). Several of the worksheets that he has had lately have required him to correctly identify colors. For example, he was to color all of the pictures that rhymed with "boat" blue and the ones that rhymed with "jar" red. Other worksheets had him using as many as eight or ten colors. I asked his teacher how he has been doing with those activities. She said that his friends help him tremendously, giving him all of the crayons, telling him what color they are. "Here, Cortlan, this is the brown one! This is the red one!" I can just picture it.
• went to the allergist in August and found out that, among the things for which he was tested, he is severely allergic to grass, ragweed, two other weeds that I can't remember, oak, and cat. He did not show a response for crab, lobster, or shrimp. He is on a nasal spray, a liquid allergy medicine, and eye drops. Yesterday, at the follow-up appointment, we found that he may have to get his adenoids removed. An ENT appointment is up next to find more information about that.
• must save everything. It is driving me crazy. Every piece of paper. Every bottle cap, paper towel tube, even the used dixie cups he drinks water out of at school. He sobbed when I told him we were going to have to throw some of it away.
• started soccer again. He got a goal in the first game and was thrilled! The second game didn't go quite as well, but he did seem to enjoy it. He is really liking gymnastics.

JOHN:

• has been working hard and doing a great job at what he does. I am proud of him...it isn't easy to deal with as many people as he does with the grace and respect in which he does it. He is very appreciated at work and at home.
• has been able to experience the "gymnastics thing" this year which involves listening to a whole lot of moms chatting away in the viewing room. He is driven as crazy (or crazier) than I typically am.
• washes dishes like nobody's business.

I:

• have been wondering how I got such a high maintenance daughter.  Seriously. 
• can't believe that I spelled kindergarten incorrectly in two posts. And my mom had to call me to let me know about it.
• have been running regularly (though half the time not getting home until after 9pm) and finally was convinced to sign up for my 3rd half-marathon.  I have a running buddy that I get to run in the evenings with most days, and I have been loving the opportunity to chat and have some social time while exercising.  Often, it is the only socializing I get to do.
• have had some very stressful days at work lately, but I am kind of proud of myself in how I handled them.
• am somehow calmly appreciating my life.  I have alone time (kind of); I have time when it is just me and the kids; I have time when it is the four of us; I have time when it is just John and I...and I appreciate and enjoy all of those times for what they are.  I realize that I need all of that, and that it is all good.

Another year older

Some random thoughts and things related to my birthday...

• I turned 35 last week, and was surprisingly emotional about turning another year older.  But I am looking forward to the unfolding of a new year full of growth and possibility, and I can't help but to reflect on how blessed I am.
• I have fantastic and thoughtful friends and family, and thanks to them, I will be running safely and in good style in the months to come, I will have plenty to read about running with a two-year subscription to Runner's World, and my toes will soon get some much needed attention.  I will have tomatoes to eat while sitting on my back deck, listening to my wind chimes, admiring my flowers, with a cool drink in hand.  Oh, and I currently have a beautiful bouquet of flowers sitting on my desk and a new candle on my counter.   I have so much to be thankful for, and I am not even referring to the gifts.
• John got me an early birthday present and gave it to me in April - a new camera, which I love and have used almost daily.  This is why I was surprised to see a present for me on the counter when I got home from work on my birthday.  I was so touched by the gift - my new Willow Tree figurines of "The Spirited Child" and "The Caring Child" are perfect and look perfect on my entryway shelf.  And the gardening shovel that the kids picked out is much needed, as I used Everly's mini shovel to do much of my planting this year.
• I got to eat my current favorite ice cream - Graham Central Station - on my birthday, and it was delicious.  (This year, I called ahead to make sure they had it before we made the trip.)  And speaking of trips, the evening was made extra special by Everly going head over heals, ice cream flying through the air, knee bleeding, elbow bleeding.  But at least the ice cream landed bowl side down.  At least, that is, until she started to eat it and then sent it flying onto the ground, covering the top of her strawberry ice cream in gravel sprinkles.  Fortunately, the girls at the counter shed pity on us and were willing to give us another bowl for free.  And ice cream does wonders in making the tears go away.
• This year, I feel like my birthday lasted for days.  Friends who we don't see nearly enough came to stay with us for the weekend.  I got to sing with the neighbors on their porch, guitar accompaniment and all. (I wish I had been given the gift of a great voice, but at least I have been given kind and tolerant friends.)  I got to hang by my parent's pool on Monday for a cookout with my family.
• I feel that at 35 I am still finding myself.  My guess is that won't really end for me.  But when I look around, I am so happy to find myself where I am and with whom I am.  Life is good.

Almost...

Sometimes people say to me things like "I don't know how you do it", referring to me working full time, running, writing a blog (or two), and more, while trying to be a good wife and mother (and friend and sister and daughter and coworker and teacher).  I usually smile politely.  Inside, I am often thinking, "Um. I don't.  I commonly fail miserably at one thing or another, while trying to keep several other things up in the air.  For example, I totally forgot to sign my kids up for swimming lessons. The dishes in the sink have been there for going on three days.  And because I work, there are plenty of things that I miss or can't do, like have tea parties with my kids at 10AM or make doctor's appointments without totally stressing out about what time it is going to have to be.  But, I do what I do because I have to and because I want to. And you could and would do it too, if you had to and/or you wanted to.  I am nothing special and there are plenty of people who do more than me."

The truth is, when I think about it, I really do have a lot of irons in the fire.  And sometimes, honestly, perhaps too many.  But, I know where my priorities are and I know what requires my attention and what can wait and, generally, I am able to find some sort of balance and make it work.  Lately, though, I have been all out of whack, and I am not entirely sure why.

But I will tell you that today I looked at my calendar and I realized how close the end of the school year is and I thought to myself, "At least there is an end in sight."  And if it weren't for that, right now I honesly don't know how I would do it.

Mother's Day 2012

I was standing in my bathroom on Sunday, fixing my hair, listening to the conversation happening in the living room between Cortlan, now five, and Everly, now 3, and it wasn't too pretty.  Suddenly, I heard things crash off of what I believe was the coffee table to the floor, and I could only deduce that it was Everly who had done it and that it was Cortlan's toys that went a flyin'.  It wasn't too hard to figure out based on the conversation that ensued, which went something like this:

Cortlan: EVERLY!!! Why did you do that?

(no response)

Cortlan: Fine.  I just don't care about you anymore.  I don't like you and I don't care about you.

(This was the first time that he had used the "I don't care about you" phrase, but not the "I don't like you" phrase, unfortunately.  There was still no response.)

Cortlan: Do you know what?  I am going to e-mail Santa Claus or write him a letter or tell Mommy to write him a letter and tell him that you shouldn't get anymore toys ever.  And I might break your toys so you don't have any.

(This got her attention.)

Everly: NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

Cortlan: Well, you shouldn't do that then.

On one hand, I wanted to go in there and discipline them.  On the other, I wanted them to figure it out themselves.  On one hand, I wanted to cringe at the words.  On the other, I wanted to laugh.

This parenting thing sure isn't getting any easier.  And no, my Mother's Day wasn't perfect.  But I loved it despite the stinging words and the rain that fell from the sky.  I loved it because of my handmade cards and my special breakfast.  I loved it because I got to spend time with my family, including my own mom and my mother-in-law.  I loved it because I didn't clean or do laundry.  (Ok, that isn't true - I did have to move the clothes from the washer to the dryer.)  I loved it because I read the newspaper in silence on the sunporch and fell asleep on the papisan and didn't feel the least bit guilty. 

I loved it because I am a mom.

Pittsburgh Half Marathon

Well, I did it.  I trained for a race through the winter, injury and all, and this morning I ran the Pittsburgh Half Marathon.  And right now, I am sitting on the deck enjoying my runners high on a beautiful day, relaxing while the kids are asleep.

This was my second half marathon, my first being last September in Erie.  And the two races couldn't have been much more different.

I had been nervous for a little over a week, since my last "at pace" run.  That run was supposed to be five miles at the pace I hoped to run the race, and those five miles weren't nearly as easy I had hoped they would be.  In comparison to the training I was able to do last summer (waking up early in the AM to run, not one injury holding me back, completed most of my scheduled miles), my training for this race was not quite up to par (running in the evening after working all day, three weeks off in February due to injury, then a gradual ease back into training, missing many miles).  There were definitely more challenges to overcome in preparation for this race...and that is not an excuse of any sort, but it is exactly what led me to have no real idea at what pace I should hope to run today's 13.1 miles. 

The mental aspect of running long distances, and the planning and thought that goes into training and running a "smart" race, is still something that I am working on and that doesn't come easy for me.  I ran my race in the fall in ideal conditions on a completely flat course in about 1:44.  When trying to decide on my goal for this race, I took into consideration many things:  It would be a more difficult course, it would be warmer, and I hadn't trained as well; but it would be a larger race with much larger crowds and potentially more energy to push me along.  I set my sights high on a 1:45 goal but knew I would be very happy with a much more realistic 1:50.

They were giving away free pace tattoos at the Expo...I went with an ambitious one.

The morning started off well.  I rode down to the city with a new friend and a friend of her husband's and we got street parking (for free!) right near the baseball stadium. We walked to the bag check with plenty of time to spare and made our way to the bathrooms and then corral B.  (For reference, there were no corrals in Erie.)  The excitement at the starting line was palpable...we were near a parking garage and people were on all levels of the garage hanging over the rails ready to cheer us on, and cheer they did.  The starting gun went off and so did we, en masse.

I remember in Erie starting off and finishing my first mile too fast and with ease.  I didn't want to do that, but when I looked down at my watch and my pace, I was surprised that I was going slower than my goal pace.  That was a little worrisome, being only the first mile, but I spotted the 3:30 marathon pace group ahead and established my plan.  I would try to stay with them until mile 7, reassess, and speed up if I could.

Through the race  - over bridges, through neighborhoods and business districts, under overpasses - there were crowds of people lining the streets cheering us on and many bands rocking out tunes.  I tried to focus on the 3:30 sign that the pacer was carrying, while simultaneously avoiding tripping over curbs, manhole covers, and other people's feet and also trying to avoid being elbowed or elbowing anyone.  The 3:30 pack was tight.  But I was happy to find a groove.

The miles went on.  I hardly listened to my music.  I was happy to not have too many hills to run.  At mile 7, I felt pretty good and braved passing the pacer.  At around 8.5 miles in, the pacer was passing me.  Ok, then.  I resolved to keep him in my sights.  At mile 10, he started to pull away.  No, wait...that was me falling behind.

I was struggling a bit, but was hopeful...I had managed to gain a touch of time somewhere along the way, so my slowing by a touch would still be ok if I could maintain my new pace and then kick it in at the end.  That became my new plan.

At mile 11, the marathoners stayed right, the half-marathoners stayed left.  I lost my pacer, but would have anyway.  As I crossed the bridge, I hit a wall.  I looked at my watch and saw I was going a full minute and forty-five seconds slower than my anticipated pace.  I willed my legs to go faster; they wouldn't.  And then came the largest uphill of the race.  Awesome.  I was swearing at the hill.  I asked a police officer on the side of the road to make it stop.  He told me I was almost there.  My thoughts went to Erie for a second, remembering me jubilantly singing along, cranking up my pace at this point in the race and the guy I passed telling me he hated me.  I hated my Erie self, too, in that moment.

Finally, the top of the hill came, and so did mile 12.  A little more than one mile to go, and it was literally all downhill from there.  I had slowed for the better part of a mile and a half.  My legs had recovered just enough to let me get down the hill at a decent clip and recover some of the lost time.  I took my ear buds out and soaked it all in.  I can't tell you how happy I was to see that finish line.  I did my best to push through.

Hot, sweaty, gross and not looking too pretty, but damn proud!

I finished my race in 1:46.43 and I am extremely happy with that time.  I feel that I left it all out on the course and came in on E, and I can't really think of anything I would have done differently during the race itself. I walked through the finishers chute, got my picture taken, grabbed a Smiley Cookie, some water, and some fruit, and just as I got my wits about me to start looking for somewhere to stretch and meet my friend, I heard, "Joyce!"  It was John and the kids, and I was so glad to see them...I wasn't sure if they would be coming down to the race at all; the logistics got pretty tricky and it was going to be a game-time decision.  Everly wasn't interested in being my monkey (I don't blame her - I was so sweaty), but having my family there at the finish was awesome.  I stretched, we walked around a bit, and then headed home...with the windows down because I stunk so bad I was repulsing even myself.

So happy to see my family at the finish...a great end to the event.

All in all, it was a pretty good race - it was extremely well-organized, the crowds were great, the volunteers awesome.  I challenged myself and, for the most part, came through.  I am proud.  But at the moment, I am also glad it is over!!

________________________________________
My results: (updated...they fixed my division)

Time: 1:46:43
Pace: 8:08.4 min/mile
Division Place: 47/1302
Female Place: 286/7432
Overall Place: 1058/12,103

The Top 10 Reasons I Prefer an Early Run Over an Evening Run

10.  Because the sky gets brighter as I go, not darker.
9.  I am not trying to run on legs that have stood all day and walked from the first to the third floor of my building and back numerous times.  In heels.
9.  Even if I don't get anything else accomplished during the day, at least my run is done.
8.  I shower in the morning anyway.
7.  John makes me breakfast when I get home.
6.  I feel invigorated and ready to tackle the day.
5.  The birds are chirping in the springtime.  The snow is silent in the winter.  Most of the world is asleep.
4.  I wake up before anyone else and have some peaceful time as I drink my coffee.
3.  I can run long and far without worrying about my bedtime.
2.  When I get home, everyone is excited to see me.

And the number one reason I prefer waking up early on the weekend to run over an evening run any day:
1.  All I have to say is "I need a monkey!" and I have one on my back to help me stretch everytime.

My monkey is usually asleep when I get back from my evening runs.  Just one of the reasons I love running in the morning.

On ice and athletes

Not long ago, John declared me an athlete.  I am not sure I agree with him, but I will take it as a compliment.  It didn't happen after a PR or a race or even a particularly awesome run.  Nope...it happened on a day when I didn't think twice about lacing up my shoes and heading out the door for a four mile run just like any normal morning.  It just happened to be that on that particular day it was pouring rain.  And then when I got back, I sat in a bath of freezing cold water.  So, I guess if running while nearly ruining my ipod and then torturing myself afterwards makes me an athlete, an athlete I am.

At least one of us is looking cute!  (For some reason, Everly really wanted a picture with me after I ran in the pouring rain.)

After taking some time off, I have slowly been making my comeback from being injured and I think it is going relatively well. What I initially thought was a hamstring pull may actually be sciatica or some other nagging ailment.  As awful as it may sound, I am convinced that soaking in an ice bath (or REALLY cold water bath, sans ice) has helped me remain pain free over the last month or so.  The time off also helped, though it definitely put a kink in my training plan. I am finally beyond my pre-injury mileage; yesterday I completed a nine mile long run for the second consecutive week. I have some good and bad runs recently, but for the most part my confidence is up.  Less than a month to go before the race.  This "athlete" might just be ready!!

 No ice in this bath, but trust me, it was cold! 

Life is full

I have realized over the last few years that I have much more control over my own happiness than I ever knew before.  And let me tell you, I am working it.  I have long heard from many people that though you can't control what happens to you, you can control how you react to it and that your attitude has so much to do with your happiness.  I completely agree; once I am in a situation that cannot be changed, at least I have control over my attitude.  But what I am talking about goes even beyond that.  I now realize that I don't have to even put myself in many of the situations that used to cause me stress.  I realize that I have a fair amount of control over how I spend my time and that I can choose to spend it in a way that brings me happiness.  And I can change things.  And I can make decisions that bring change.  When I can also find a nice balance between all of the things that have become priorities in my life, I am in bliss.

On Saturday, I woke up early and headed to my college alma mater.  The campus has changed quite a bit since I was there last.  The building in which I spent most of my hours as an undergrad physics major has been completely renovated.  Touring the facility, I was amazed at the changes.  I am on the advisory board of the Physics Department there, and was happy to see many of my former professors and to interact and chat with them and the other members of the board.  And I was happy to contribute in a positive, albeit minor, way to the well-being of the department.

I got home at around 2:30 and at 3:30 the four of us headed to the birthday party of a classmate of Everly's whose brother happens to be a classmate of Cortlan's.  From there, we went home for a quick turnaround, dropped the kids off at my parent's house at around 7:00 and headed out to a surprise birthday party for a co-worker.  There, we had a great time socializing with old and new friends.

Despite a late night, I was up early yesterday to complete my first nine-mile run of my training for the half-marathon coming up on May 6th.  This was a milestone, as my longest run pre-injury was eight miles, and I have now finally surpassed that mark as I make my comeback.

We got Everly's pictures taken, which was a bit of an ordeal, and then spent the rest of the day yesterday around the house..

So this weekend, I didn't spend as much time as usual cleaning, though my house is relatively clean.  I got to be "professional" Joyce.  I got to hang out with my husband and friends in a social situation without kids.  I got to hang out with my kids and do the "mom" thing.  I got to rock a long run.  I got to relax a bit, and I tried my best to not stress.  I found a pretty decent balance.  I was tired.  But I was happy.