But I don’t.

Coming back here is like going back to high school. You have some fond memories of high school so it should be fun to go back and see the old Halls of Knowledge. Except when you get there all you see is the place where you got in a fight with your best friend. The locker that your high school crush who never acknowledged you. The hallway you walked down while looking at the prominent F you received on a test.

It’s the bad memories that come flooding back.

That’s what this space does for me. I started this blog when I was recovering from a miscarriage, staring into the depths of continued infertility treatment, the despair of ‘will I ever be a mom’. Then I had my girls and it was all about the stress of working mom in big city, working mom of 2 in big city, and then the suck of laid off mom in big city.

My life now is changing, mostly for the better, it’s so different now. I’m ready to move to a new space, a space that doesn’t have the ghosts, the demons, the crap. I need to look forward and see myself as I am today, not stuck in the mold of yesterday. I need to graduate and go on to college.

If you leave a comment, I’ll keep your email and let you know where I end up. I will start a new blog again, not sure when, but I will. Mostly because the stuff I’m going through now is big. I do want to remember it, the feelings, the thoughts. I just want to be able to dedicate myself to a blog again to get these things out, which is something I can’t do here.

Love to all and thanks for seeing me through the BIG moments of my life so far.

Mel asks the question:
What did you think of your body ten years ago?  And how do you think about your body from ten years ago now?

10 years ago I had just started at my previous job. I was just out of college (I finished my degree late), in a new city, and newly married. My body then was flabby, I weighed more than I would have liked. I honestly didn’t think much about my body. Why should I? It was healthy, working, and I had zero interest in exercising or losing weight. I had enough on my plate at the time.

Looking back now, my body was ok. I wasn’t obese but I wasn’t as skinny as I once was either. There are few things I miss about that old body, most notably the lack of stretch marks and the presence of a belly button (due to the pregnancies I have a belly ‘dent’). I wish I appreciated what I had and worked with my body to get healthy. I can tell you that I was very unhealthy. I ate a lot, I didn’t exercise… I didn’t gain a huge amount of weight but I was very unhealthy. Interestingly I weigh the same now as I did then.

Which brings me to how I see myself today and my weight. Last year when I started training for my first triathlon I was overweight and depressed. I honestly just wanted to concentrate on my training. I was skeptical that I would keep up with it, I wasn’t sure if it was for me. Turns out I loved it and incorporated it into my lifestyle pretty easily. However, the  nutrition part? I just couldn’t be bothered. Counselors will tell drug addicts to tackle one addiction at a time: quit drugs, don’t worry about smoking. That’s how I approached the training and nutrition part of my life. I’ll tackle the addiction to lazy first and deal with nutrition later.

This year, right around the time I finished the Mountain Goat race I started to tackle that second addiction: food. My reasoning was that if I was going to put all kinds of time and energy into training, I was going to LOOK like I put a lot of time and energy into training. I wanted to get faster at my swim and run, I knew losing weight would help. I started tracking my calories, cutting out sweets, paying attention to portions. It worked. I slowly lost 24 pounds. My goal weight was 35lbs below where I started. I have reassessed that goal. I look at my body and I see well toned legs, arms, back, and shoulders. My middle is still a source of frustration but I plan on adding core exercises to my routine to work on that. My point is, losing the other 11 pounds to hit that number on the scale? Probably not a good idea. I could hit that number, but at what cost? I’m pretty sure I would start to see muscle loss. The ‘fat’ I have around my middle is not all fat. Some of it is the loose skin from the pregnancies. Some of it, is muscle. My point is, I don’t think I have 11 pounds of unwanted fat on my body.

My new goal is to continue watching what I eat without the pressure of hitting a number on a scale. Yes, I want to firm up my midsection. I will do that, then, then I’m good. To me, being strong and healthy is worth more than a number on a scale. I want to hit the pace of 9 minute miles when running, I want to get to 18mph avg pace for my bike, I want to get to a 1:30/100 yard pace when I swim. I CAN get there, if I eat to fuel my body.

I do tend to emotionally eat, I mean I am human after all. However, if that happens it really is OK (I mean as long as I don’t go on a crazy 3 week Dun*kin Do*nuts binge). I’ll just rally and keep going. The good part about my changes in my diet is it involves a variety of foods. I don’t have to eat a certain kind of shake, cereal, or bar. I eat what I always have with minor changes in ingredients or size. I don’t deprive myself of anything really (Except donuts. I hate that I love them so, but I need to just stay away from them for now).

In short I LOVE my body now. I love what I am doing with my body. I love that I can play with my kids. I can be ‘that mom’ at the party playing with the kids or swimming with the kids and not hiding at a table eating crap. I love that my kids see me as active, that K wants to sign up for another race. I love that P is losing weight by tracking his calories and exercising. I like what exercising and proper diet choices have done for us as a family.

When we moved to Horsetown, NY I just assumed that the NY Dash would be the closest. However, the PA Dash looked more interesting and was just as far away. I signed up, hoping others would follow. They didn’t. I was a lone racer on Saturday.

P and I decided to make it a camping weekend with the girls. My sister S and BIL D came with us along with my nieces (14 and 21). The campsite we went to was an hour away from the race site, and that was fine. The campsite itself was really nice. Clean, wooded, quiet, perfect for us and our first time campers: K and L.

We got to the campsite around 5:30-6:00pm. I had wanted to get there earlier but we just had so much to pack up and prepare it just wasn’t in the cards. We set up camp, P and D went and got firewood. I don’t think the girls ate dinner until 9pm. Me and the girls were in bed by 10pm, we had to be up at 5:30am to get to my 8am wave on time, I wanted to get to the race site by 7am, factor in the travel time… we had to leave by 6am.

As with all things kid related this is not how it worked out. I don’ think we were on the road moving towards the race site until 6:30! I was freaking out on the inside. I didn’t hide it very well, but if there is one thing I hate is ‘just’ getting to the race site on time. As we got closer I kept checking my watch. We were 5 miles away and my watch read 7:35. Ugh.

We got to the parking lot, I jumped out and ran toward the busses that would take me to the race site. I had my license and my waiver that’s it, that’s all I needed. I got into the bus that was next to leave (so not my style, the normal Heather would have gotten on the second to leave because surely the first one was full if people weren’t loading into it right?), got a seat right in front and checked my watch: 7:50. Grandma Jane drove 10mph the entire 3 miles, I leaped off the bus once on site: 7:55. I ran to packet pick up, checked my warrior stuff, threw my chip on my laces and ran for the start line: 7:59… phew, made it!

Little did I know that being on time was not a requirement. Nor is being in the correct wave. I totally could have gotten in the next wave and nobody would have cared. Oh well, I got in the middle of the pack and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

We started late, around 8:10. Again, had I known I would not have been a total basket case running to get to the start line… oh well, warm up. With a poof of flames at the starting line we were off!

To a very slow start. I was ready to rock it, and got into the slow crowd. We were basically jogging up to the first ‘obstacle’: The Castle. Lamest obstacle ever. We walked through the castle, that’s it, that’s the obstacle. Boo. We were forced to walk due to the bottle neck of so many people getting there at once. Now, here’s where I gripe about the waves. Had they actually forced people to stay in their wave times, I doubt there would have been a bottleneck. In fact most of the obstacles would have gone much smoother if the wave times were enforced.

Moving on, we ran for a bit through mud, forest (sticks, ferns, rocks, etc), and came to the next obstacle: Blackout. It was a grid of 2×4′s about 2-ft off the ground with a black tarp on top. Normally, it would just be the darkness that might be ‘worrisome’ to folks. This particular day? The tarp was weighted down with water from rain the night before and early morning. So, once under you had to dip down a little further to get under the water laden tarp. Still, not a problem really. The biggest obstacle here was keeping your knees and shins intact as you traversed over sticks and roots, rocks and dirt. Once through we were off through some more grass and mud.

We then came to our next obstacle: Planks. It was a plank up with rungs, then down, then across on a thin plank, up the other side on another plank and then straight down from there. Honestly, this one wasn’t so bad either. It was purely mental. Each plank had rungs about 3 feet apart so you had somewhere to put your hands. I walked up it while grabbing the board with hands. Once on the top I brought my feet and legs forward and did a ‘scooch’ down to the horizontal plank. Here’s where the mental part comes in, we were 8-ft (?) off the ground. If you looked down you saw rocks and grass. One slip off that horizontal beam and it could be nothing or you could knock yourself out on the rock or break a bone with the fall. I took 3 fast steps across and traversed up and down the other side in the same fashion as how I got up there. Easy.

More running and hit the next obstacle: Barricade Breakdown. 5’6″ walls to hurl yourself over then hurl yourself under the 2 foot obstacle on the other side: repeat 4 times. When I saw it I knew how to tackle it: pretend I was mounting a horse. It’s the same manuever, without the stirrup. This worked great until wall number 4. My arms were pretty tired, I stepped to the side to let others pass and caught my breath, and then leaped the next two and I was off. Proud of myself for getting those f-ers out-of-the-way.

Then the real ‘trail’ experience. I use the term trail loosely. It was a trail, but very rustic. No mulch here. It was rocks and branches and fallen trees. I was leaping over the trees and avoiding major ruts from water and jumping and going over rocks as best I could. I won’t lie, this took a lot out of me. I’m used to running smooth roads, trail runners have a definite advantage on this course. Still, I passed people, I hurled myself forward trying not to think about my ankles (under rough conditions it’s my ankles that fair the worst).

After what seemed like an eternity running through this forest we came to the next obstacle: Pond Walk (that’s what I’m calling it, some of these obstacles don’t match up with the website and the order def. doesn’t). Basically we got off the trail and into the edge of the pond, waist deep in the water. I’m not afraid of water (obviously) but I am afraid of certain animals IN the water: snakes mostly. I did my best to forget about what I could be sharing the water with and possibly pissing off by invading its home and just trudged through. Got to where we picked the trail back up and off we went. I will mention that water was cool but not cold. It was a welcome cleaning off and soothed my aching ankles.

Ran some more through the woods, again, passed a lot of people and also got passed by plenty more only to have these folks slow down to a WALK a mere 100-ft in front of me and then I was passing them. Kind of annoying at best, dangerous at worst. It wasn’t always easy to pass people. There were some folks who pull over and let you pass, that was cool, I did that a few times myself. Mostly? It spurred me on to run harder.

Next up: Rio Run. You run down a creek. This one made me more nervous than any other obstacle. Only because the water was muddy so you couldn’t see the algae covered rocks, and the water was ice cold causing my feet and ankles to go numb. It would vary in depth as well, at one point it was up to my waist when we had to go over a fallen tree. Funny story here, 2 people could go over the tree, it was about 3-in in diameter. The guy before me pushed the tree down to get over it, got over it and let go, causing the guy who was just going over it to get a severe whack to balls. He exclaimed, “Thanks DUDE!” in pure sarcasm. To which ball smasher replied, “Sorry bro!” and took off. I made it up and over without incident.

The next obstacle was a 25-ft wall (heights are totally approximate, let’s just say it was f-ing high, ‘kay?). You climbed up using a rope with knots and putting your feet on the wall and there were wood ledges that stuck out to lean your feet on. On the other side was another rope to repel down with. I grabbed the rope, got my feet on the first rung, went to pull myself up, and just said… hell no. There were a few things here: my shoes were totally slippery from the algae, wet, and mud. I didn’t want to get to the top only to freak the fuck out and not be able to get down (I was hearing things on the other side of the wall like, ‘leap of faith’ and ‘the ledge is right.there’) OR I would get up there and fall and break something. This race was all about fun, I didn’t want to ruin my whole season by injuring myself for a fun race, know what I mean? I looked at the Dash employee and asked if I would be disqualified for not completing an obstacle. His response, “Nope, not a problem”. So, I went around. I was slightly upset with myself for not completing it, but only slightly.

More running through the trees and we got to: Tunnels of Terror. Again, not so bad. The tunnels got smaller as we went on, so that was a bit of a challenge. The second to last one had some funky smell nearby. The training that helped the most with that obstacle? Changing diapers, the smell stunk to me but didn’t bother me. The girl ahead of me? retching. Chalk one up to being a mom!

Quick jaunt through the woods and we came to the clearing where the end of the race obstacles were. The first was the rope climb:

This was, by far, my favorite obstacle. It’s just like the ones on the playground but for adults. Super fun, I can’t say enough about how much fun it was for me. Loved every second.

After that were the tires and then the Junkyard Stomp and more tires after:

This one was fun too, just pure silliness. I felt like a jackass going through the tires, there’s no graceful way of getting through them. Running on top of cars? Stuff of childhood and teenage dreams. I was on top of the van (second vehicle from picture right). It was a bit higher than the others but loved jumping off.

Next came the wall of flames. Two lines of fire that you had to jump over. I was not worried, I knew I could clear it. I did have a fleeting thought that I would be the dumbass to trip and fall INTO the wall of fire. No need to worry, up and over with no issues

Right after the walls of flames was the mother of all obstacles, the one where you HAD to get dirty:

The mud pit. Oh, this was fun too! Between the two red and black flagged lines is barbed wire. You HAD to get down and dirty on this obstacle. When I first walked in, I was easily thigh deep in mud. I didn’t want to lose a shoe, I saw the girl ahead of me dive in, and I said: screw it! I got down on all fours and started crawling. I would have loved this obstacle more if there hadn’t been so many stones and gravel, my knees and shins were really yelling at me through the mud. When I climbed out of the mud pit, my first thought was: OMG, mud is HEAVY. It really was, it was like running with concrete all over your body. I got to the finish, and I got my medal!!

This is me, P, and K after the race. I plan on buying some of the pro shots that were taken, they have some great finish line, mud, and fire shots. If you know me, email me, and I’ll send you the link to see them.

Up next was the hidden obstacle: getting hosed off with a water truck (fire hydrant like pressure). Here I am coming back from hosing off, I got my front clean, that’s about it:

Here I am showing K how to dash:

Afterwards I picked up my stuff from bag check, used my timer chip to get a free beer and we went back to the campsite. My shower back at the campsite? The greatness rivals the greatness of the first post-birth shower after having K and then L. It felt SO GOOD to get clean. I left a mud ring in the shower…

Two things: L wouldn’t even look at me when I was covered in mud. When I finally cleaned off she wanted me to hold her but I was soaking wet so I couldn’t. My heart ached a little that I couldn’t hold her.
                         K was very curious about the mud. She would dip her finger into the mud on my arm, look at the mud, and then wipe it on P’s shirt

Anybody who is active should try to get this race under their belt. The atmosphere, the camaraderie of the racers, the obstacles all make this a VERY fun race. Even though I didn’t race with anybody, I never felt alone. The only time I felt that racing with someone would have made it better is at the rope climbing wall. I might have pushed myself to try if I had someone there to cheer me on and get me going. I am a little upset that nobody did this with me. However, I’m over it now, I’m glad I raced anyway. I did feel like a bit of a loser at times when I saw large groups of friends doing the obstacles together, or post race when friends would pose for pictures together. No matter, next year YOU’RE doing it with me…. right?

I got ready to go on my bike ride. I had wanted to get on the road for the ride by 6am, but after I checked on the girls at 6 and still heard snoring? Hell yes, I went back to bed. By the time I was putting on my shorts and shirt for riding it was already 9am. I had gotten ready and K told me she wanted to do her bike workout too. She got really jazzed to get dressed and go for a bike ride. P said they would go if she would just wait until he took a shower. She actually, wait for it, waited patiently (so I hear).

My ride, was tough. I’m still trying to figure out a good loop that will not put me on the busier streets with lots of lights. I had a lot of going out, turning around, etc. I will say that I love riding out in the country. We live near the regional ‘airport’ (quotes are mine, hilariously it does have major airlines coming and going but it’s so small and cute). I saw a plane take off, it was cool to have the plane so low to the ground right above me. I then turned right and I was in corn field territory. I saw a ton of birds: geese, robins, cardinals. Then, just as I approached I saw the most awesome looking deer. She was beautiful. She heard me and went running toward her friend who was more towards the middle of the field. The two of them ran back into the woods together, very graceful. In our area, like most, deer are way overpopulated. I understand that hunting is a sport and necessary. I don’t understand how you could see that animal and say, “Hey, let’s shoot ‘em!”. I guess that goes with all hunting but deer are so pretty. Anyway, I also passed some horse and dairy farms. My favorite moment was when I passed a farm-house that sat pretty close to the road, and surprised two chickens that were chillin’ in the front yard. HA! They freaked. out. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a chicken run like, well, like a chicken with its head cut off. I got in 18 miles.

I got back and called P to meet me at the garage so I could change into my running shoes and do my 5 mile run. Him, K and L were still out doing K’s bike workout. So I rode up to meet them. I was so proud to see K on that bike. Her two-wheeled princ*ess bike with training wheels. She was really riding, really getting some speed, and REALLY PROUD OF HERSELF. It just makes my heart swell to see her so proud of herself, doing something that I know takes her out of her comfort zone. She’s a little shaky on the brakes so I had her show me how she should use them. She worked them pretty good so we headed down to the garage. There’s a slight hill, but nothing crazy. Well, she picked up speed, freaked out, and when P went to catch up with her (on my bike) he hit her by mistake and she went toppling over. No real harm done, just a scraped elbow and cheek. She quickly recovered.

Me and the girls went back to the apartment (5 mile run was abandoned, it was now 11:30 and HOT, and with K being hurt I wanted to be there for her). P went out and did a bike ride on his own. Again, the afternoon was starting nicely. We ate lunch, I got L down for nap, and I attempted to get K down. It didn’t work out, she would be almost asleep and wake herself back up. Boo. I prepared myself for an evening from hell.

All was fine until about 4:30pm. Then, well, all hell broke loose. K was tired, she hadn’t napped, and she was a bear. She became a totally different person, a true Hyde to her normal Dr. Jekyll. We went grocery shopping, she would not listen, got angry and upset when told to calm down. It got worse in the car when she is forced to slow down and might actually *gasp* fall asleep. She wanted to eat at a restaurant, she wanted a treat for being good in the store (ha!), she didn’t want to have dinner, she wanted dinner but not tacos, she wanted tacos but not with salsa… the list of grievances grew more and more as we drove the short 5 minutes back to our house. We get in, and she just got belligerent. Hitting P, hitting L, yelling, screaming, tantrum, tantrum, tantrum. I swear from 5-5:30 it was just one, long, drawn out tantrum. We sit down to eat (she had two trips to her room, one with me and one with P) and she comes out from her room sniffling and trying not to cry. Dinner was leftovers so total prep/cook time was maybe 10 minutes. Again, all was well until she ran out of the macaroni and cheese on her plate (I said it was leftover dinner night so it was tacos and mac and cheese). P put some on her plate and she asked for more, and he said, “K, please eat some taco too, I’ll only give you just a little bit of macaroni and cheese”. You would have thought he said no food for a week. I put my spoon down, told her it was time for bed and she said:

OK mommy. I’m tired. I’m ready for bed.

After a lot of tantrums, yelling, and tears, she finally fell asleep… only an hour before her normal bedtime. She was up during the night, but slept until 6:15 this morning.

Yesterday was one of those days that was so awesome yet so awful at the same time.

P has Dr. Jekyll today* (you can see the scrape on her face near her right cheek):

*The accompanying text message from P:
K requested I send you a pic of the necklace she made to you cause she said you would be ‘prouder’ of her than me (P) and she said you would say wow ’cause that’s how mommies talk
(love her so much!)

The pavilion I got was right next to the playground. You can see it in the background of this picture:

We parked on the entrance road to unload, K got out with me and stood right by the van waiting for me to get L out. she marveled at the playground. I took L out of her seat and put her on the ground and she made like a cheetah and ran for the playground. I said to P, “Clearly, she is excited about the playground”. We agreed that the easiest thing is for me to watch them on the playground while he unloaded.

For everything that this playground had to offer L only cared about one thing: swings. I pushed her on those swings for a long time, then she saw the slides and got more excited about those. My sister H and then my mom came soon after we got there and helped us set up. H’s kids are 9 and 7. It was nice to have K on the playground playing with her 9-year-old cousins. I could see them, but I didn’t need to be right there watching her every move. L stayed close to the pavilion and watched us, cousins would take her to the swings or playground if she wanted.

The party itself was lots of fun, P’s sister, mom and step dad, dad and step mom, grandmother on his dad’s side all came. P’s sister has 3 kids around the same age as K and L. They were both having a blast. The weather really perked up, so it was sunny with a slight breeze. Perfect.

Having a snack before lunch:

K playing with 9-year-old A:

Me and L on the grass. She desperately wanted those shoes on even though her feet had swelled and they no longer really fit:

P cooked hamburgers and hotdogs. We had fruit salad, potato salad (homemade from my mom!), chips and salsa, pickles, etc. It was the typical picnic/BBQ fare. L of course only had eyes for hotdogs. Even with all the commotion I think she ate a whole hot dog and might have eaten more but she got distracted. Both K and L loved sitting at the big picnic tables with the big kids. Very cute.
Next of course, was cake. Because we were outside I didn’t really care what L looked like at the end, just as long as she was happy and got some cake . Turns out? She didn’t get messy at all, a little on her hands, a little on her face.
Here she is just getting into it:

We actually did presents before cake, I didn’t know how messy L was going to be, guess I worried for nothing. K was actually pretty good about allowing L to open her gifts. There was a little bit in the beginning where she just couldn’t help herself, but once we explained how to help L without doing it for her she did better. L got all the things she loves: baby doll, baby doll, a pillo*w pet, baby doll…

it was a great party, and everybody had such a good time. P was super dad all the way. Honestly, he did all the prep for the food. He cooked the food made sure everybody had enough. He really was awesome. L fell asleep before we even left the park entrance in the van, K took a little loner but eventually fell asleep as well. I love parties like this: everybody had fun, the weather was perfect, we were surrounded by family, I love it.

Here she is at 6 months:

Here she is putting her new baby doll to bed at the party:

On a larger scale I have almost completely shifted my thoughts on food. Most of the time I do a quick, calorie check on a meal before I eat. I will cut my portions in half if needed to get to an acceptable level of calories. If nothing else, this has made me hyper aware of what goes in my mouth. I say most of the time because I do allow myself to ‘just eat’ what I want on certain occasions. L’s birthday party last weekend was one of those times. I ate some hotdog, some hamburger, some vegetables and fruit, I also had 2 pieces of the most awesome cake (it’s got pudding in the middle, need I say more?). I ate it all without guilt. I returned to my regularly scheduled eating on Monday, but Sunday was all about fun, not counting. I will say this, Dorito*s… are NOT my friend. They are forever on my list of DO NOT EAT items. Food is no longer a comfort, but a tool to keep my body going.

I have always had a hard time managing my time. At home, at work, I sucked. I always felt like I was behind. I always had to ‘catch up’. A few weeks ago I was stressing about not getting something done and P said, “Why? Who else but you is going to know if you’re two days late or 2 weeks late?”. I just about stopped dead in my tracks. If I were in a cartoon you would here the screeching sound effect as all systems halted. Why indeed! Why do I feel that this needs to be done NOW, or that can’t wait until tomorrow? With some things there are hard and fast rules: bills, appointments, etc (although P carries his ‘why worry’ attitude into those as well.. drives me crazy). Others? My personal time line? Yeah, it’s ok if I don’t stay right. on. track. It’s made me a bit more relaxed, only a bit because old habits are REALLY hard to break.

I think trying to get my work outs in, work, and family time have made me more flexible with my time. I’ll take what I can get basically. Although, I’m finding my work outs are increasing to a point that an hour doesn’t really cut it some days. I’ll adjust something to make them work.

My blog reading has shifted as well. I have my core blogs (those located in my blog roll) that I read first when I see them on my Reader. However, some of the others that don’t post much or their lives have gone a totally different direction? I skip. My Reader used to consist of infertility blogs, parenting after infertility, parenting. Now? It’s filling up fast with triathlete blogs. Women triathletes. Not just sprinters like me but real, heavy-duty, elite triathletes. Most are moms to kids of varying ages. Most are doing exactly what I am, trying to fit it all in. I love the attitude of these blogs. These women are very inspirational. I will add them to my blog roll soon to share. Also, they inspire me to think beyond the Olympic distance tri, a half ironman perhaps. Someday.

I have some negative stuff going on right now as well. Nothing life changing, just stuff that irritates me. Stuff that I need to work on to be a better person. One thing at a time. Maybe soon some of those things will shift as well.

 A picture of L from her birthday party, I have a full post on that once I get the pictures:

I’m 37 today. I don’t generally get freaked out about ‘getting older’. I might in a moment of weird panic. Where I think to myself: OMG, another year? I wanted to do X! Those moments are very fleeting. It’s not really myself that I think about, it’s my family. P and the girls. We are all getting older, time just keeps marching on, and on. L turned 2, K is turning 5 next year. My mom, is not getting any younger either. I can’t imagine a world without her in it, I won’t, not now anyway.

I don’t mean to get morbid but each birthday IS a reminder that we only have a few short years here on earth. Why don’t we pack in some fun stuff during this time?

I did, this past weekend.

Back in late March, Serenity and I talked and we wanted to make sure we ran a race together. Last year I ran my first 5k with her, and it happened to be the first 5k she ran the year before. We were hoping to make that a tradition. One problem: It is held on a weeknight. So, we came up with another race, a 5 mile race this past Sunday. She ran it last year, told me it was a good time, so we signed up. Now, this was during the meat of my Mountain Goat race training. I was holding steady at a decent enough pace for long runs. My average pace for a short distance was about 10.5 or 11.0 minute/miles. Fine.

By the time this past Friday rolled around and we were on our way to the Boston area, I panicked. I hadn’t really trained outside recently. Could I do 5 miles at 10.5 minute/miles? I knew I could complete the race, I just wondered how much my time would embarrass me. When Serenity and I run these races together the whole goal really, is to talk and have fun. Neither of us had any expectations for the other. That’s the point of a friendly run. The day of the race we left her house, had a false start (P locked his keys in the van, we had to circle back and unlock it for him with my keys), got to the event site. It was the H*arpoon 5 Mile race and it was at their brewery. We showed our ID’s, walked back, got our numbers and shirts and headed out to use the bathroom and wait for start. The weather was cold, cloudy, but not raining. I left my sweatshirt with our goodie bags, I’ll admit, I was cold but knew I would warm up as we ran. There were a lot of people there, normal race stuff.

We got to the starting line, and I’ll admit, I was a little gun-shy. I didn’t want to finish weak like I did at the Goat. The more people gathered at the start, the more nervous I got. Some of that is usual pre-race jitters. This time, some of it was, true nervousness about finishing strong. Our first 2 miles we spent chatting, checking our HR monitors. I was excited to see mine staying low (low being in the mid 170′s), our pace seemed to hover around 10.5 minute/miles. In short we were having a good time. Around mile 3, I started to get a little annoyed with some folks so we would pass people and keep moving. Serenity would update me on our pace, I use my Ni*ke GPS on my phone, but unless I have ear phones in I can’t keep up to date on pace, she has a Gar*min. At the end of mile 3 we were averaging a 10 minute mile pace. My HR was still good, climbing but not crazy. We kicked it up a bit at mile 4. Talking less and running a bit more, passing people, having some time to sit with our run. My HR was climbing into the mid 180′s, I knew I was working hard. At mile 5, I was ready for the race to be over, I wanted to kick some ass. As my training program put it last year: I wanted to run like a Kenyan. Long legs, reaching to put as much pavement between my feet at each stride as possible. I picked up the pace, heart pounding. Serenity was saying we had a little less than a mile to go, that we needed to pace ourselves, don’t want to burn out before we get to the finish. Heeding her advice I backed off, sort of, and then we rounded the last corner and saw the finish. We both picked it up and ran, she had less resistance from folks in front of her she pulled ahead. I didn’t want to her to beat me that badly so I picked it up, she slowed a bit, and we crossed the finish line together. Our last mile? At a 9:02 pace. For a MILE I ran a 9.02 minute mile pace. That is just beyond amazing to me.

We high-fived, grabbed our beer glass, a water and headed to stretch. Neither of us could get over how awesome that race felt. We had fun, we talked, we raced. As we stretched and congratulated each other, I looked at her and said:

Today, I finally feel like a runner.

I do. Even now, I feel like a runner. I trained, I worked hard at running, and I saw real results. Real, quantifiable results. It’s the best feeling ever. I will never, ever, forget how amazing that race made me feel. The cherry on top was that I did it with my best friend Serenity.

Here we are enjoying a post-race Summer Ale that had to be the best beer I’ve had in a long time:

Expectations

I have always had high expectations for myself. Most of the time, I don’t meet them and find myself upset with myself for not meeting these expectations and goals. It was of course a way for me to feel miserable about my life. A way for me to consistently have a problem. In short, I hated being miserable but apparently liked having something to be miserable about. It was a round robin of self-esteem bashing that perpetuated my horrible self-image.

Since having children, I have allowed myself to lower the expectations a bit. Perfection is not necessary. Some days, just getting through the day is an achievement. I am trying to get to the point where I can set achievable goals. Goals that will not force me to work so hard that I don’t see my family or force me to give up something that I like.

Participating in races has helped me tremendously with this effort. In the beginning the standard goal was: I just want to finish. Then I morphed that into: I want to finish and run the whole time. I still don’t put any serious time expectations on myself, perhaps that will come later. Or not. However, when I finished the Mountain Goat run on May 1st (I have a post in draft, I want to include pictures of that event and keep forgetting them, it’s coming, I promise) I was disappointed. I trained for the event, I thought I was ready. It was hot the day of the race, the hills were more steep than I had figured, my heart rate was through the roof: I had to walk. I felt really defeated. I hadn’t set any other goals for that race other than: Finish and Don’t Walk. Common sense prevailed and I walked when I saw my heart rate climb to a scary high number. I did finish, I just didn’t finish like I wanted. Now that I’ve had a couple of weeks to think about it, sit with it, I’m no longer disappointed. I’m proud. I did a 10 MILE race, on HILLS, through Hometown NY. I mean, who does that? I’m proud of where I have taken my fitness level. I’m so thankful that I have the ability to push my body to extend my limits.

With each race, successful day at work, my expectations for my body, my mind, my life are becoming more achievable. More rational. I am finding motivation in the success that I allow myself to have. It’s still a work in progress, there are things that I wish I could do but time is a factor. I’m pushing myself to do 2 sprint triathlons this season and a half marathon in the fall. THAT is a goal I can accomplish. With this new job, new location, I can have time with my family too.

Nap Time

Apparently nap time is getting better at the house of P and Heather. K takes a nap quite often and L goes down pretty easily as well. Yesterday they were getting settled in for nap as they usually do: with books. P usually reads to the girls and then puts L in her crib and K gets in her bed both with books in tow and they read until they fall asleep. Yesterday was no different except K allowed L on her bed to read with her. I think the following, heart melting, pictures speak  for themselves:

They slept like that for an hour and a half, woke up rested and ready for the afternoon. Days like yesterday, I’m so thankful that we are able to have one of us* home with them. To allow for these moments.

*Also thankful that currently that is P

These are the sounds I hear in my daughters’ room. The volume, words, and sometimes urgency fluctuates. However, that is the norm these days.

Today, Lindsey is two.

Two.

My mind boggles at this concept. How this is possible. I remember being up with her when she was about a month old. She was crying and crying and I couldn’t get her to calm down. She was fed, she was dry, she should be sleeping! Her head was resting on my shoulder as I walked around our bedroom, bouncing her, thinking maybe gas was the culprit (it was, it always was with her), and she stopped crying very suddenly. I looked down at her, and saw in the glow of the digital clock that she was looking at me, staring at me. Her eyes looked black in the dim light, but her face was round, a hint of hair on her head, her left chubby cheek smooshed on my shoulder. We just stared at each other for what felt like an eternity but in reality was only 30 seconds. I hugged her close and told her it was ok, that mommy was trying to help her feel better. She resumed crying, burped, and went to sleep. I walked over and laid down on the bed, put her on my chest, felt her fuzzy head under my chin and just laid there. I was so exhausted, yet so happy to have her with me, with us.

Last night she woke up at midnight, rare these days. Even rarer is that P and I were up talking about being parents, parenting these two girls. Usually P takes night duty for L, she goes back to sleep quickly for him. Tonight, I gave him a break, he had a hard day with the two of them. I went in, she was standing in her crib, froggy tucked under her arm pit. She called for mommy and then daddy. I tried to get her to lay down she said no: over and over and over. I picked her up, she laid her head on my shoulder. Her crying stopped almost immediately, turning to light heaves, and finally settling into slow breathing. I hugged her, and rubbed her back, whispered in her ear that everything was ok. After an eternity few minutes I gently put her in her crib. Her head laid on the penguin pillow pet that was given to K but that K gave to her. I covered her in the Curious G*eorge blanket my mom had made for K, but somehow ended up in L’s bed. Her eyes opened, she reached for my hand. I laid down next to the crib, gave her, still chubby, cheek a touch. I took my hand away and heard a sigh, and then a snore. I laid on the cold floor, marveling at how amazing she is, how awesome it is to have her in our family.

L is not an easy toddler, terrible two’s really describe her right now. Honestly, I think terrible two’s is a term that came about to describe not first children but SECOND children. It’s all a battle for little L. She wants to do everything K does, and more. She wants everything K has, and more. She wants to do things that physically she just can’t, and she does not want that answer. She’s a girl who knows what she wants and will make sure we all understand how upset she is when that doesn’t happen. Her drive is amazing, she will take a task and work it until she’s done it or SHE decides it is no longer worth the effort. Her language and vocabulary is expanding at lightening speed. She says K’s name, she says headband, she says things and it just makes me laugh to hear them come out of her little peanut mouth. I could watch her all day play with her babies and stuffed animals. She gives her babies kisses when they get a boo boo, she says sorry when you tell her she hurt you, her laugh makes me laugh.

I’m so proud to be her mom. I’m so proud to call her my daughter.

Happy Birthday Lindsey!

Presto Blocks Girl Birthday Invitation

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Sometimes I miss my old work,

Sometimes I miss my life before kids,

Sometimes I want to run away and never look back,

Sometimes I want to sleep for an entire day,

Sometimes I want to eat until I can’t hold another ounce of food in my mouth,

Sometimes I want to yell at P for no reason other than he’s there,

Sometimes I miss our house,

Sometimes I miss being stuck in traffic,

Sometimes I miss my cats,

Sometimes I want to watch TV all day like we used to,

Sometimes I want to take a leave of absence from my life.

Then Again:

I love that we eat as a family,

I love that P has finally decided to start cooking dinner,

I love that I can leave work- at work,

I love that I can get where I want in less than 10min,

I love that I can spend a day with family,

I love when L wakes up and raises her arms to me,

I love when K wakes up and says- I slept the whole night!,

I love when P says he had a hard day- it’s confirmation that it IS hard to stay at home,

I love having lunch by myself- at my desk- with no kids,

I love the sound of hearing both of my girls laugh at the same time,

I love the way K tells me what L is saying- usually to K’s benefit,

I love watching K play games or make up games,

I love when P says to me- You are doing great,

I love telling my girls I love them,

I love giving L a hug before I put her in her crib and she hugs me back,

I love telling K I will check on her again and again and again as I kiss her goodnight,

I love that P puts K on the potty before we go to bed (I hate doing it),

I love that I can run 9 miles,

I love that I can work out- at all,

I love my place in this job, this family, this world, this life.