My Mommy is Pretty

Excerpt from my family blog:

"I feel like I am in a season of life where each moment is sacred.  The kids are at such precious ages right now--full of energy and innocence and blind obedience to us.  Trusting us to make the right decisions for them, when we are doing all of this for the first time.  I have taken more pictures then ever before, trying to capture it all, but it feels like I am trying to hold onto water as it slips out of my hands.  I feel the urge to freeze time right in this moment.  And then another moment comes and I like that one too.  I never expected parenting to be so full of constant change."

I am so honored to be a mother.  And even more so to be a mom who my son thinks is "prite" (pretty).  It is hard to put into words the feeling you get when your child pays you a compliment that you don't feel you really even deserve.  He doesn't know how long I felt so ugly--all the years I hated the way I looked.  He doesn't even know what anorexia is (though I could never forget if I tried).  How I wish I could protect him and his sister from ever having to learn about it.  How I wish he knew how a little piece of me healed when I read his precious words.  Standing in his kindergarten classroom with my hand clutching his flower bulletin board message to me, I did feel pretty.  But more importantly, I felt loved.  And that is when parenting is completely worth it.  

UAH Spring 10K Volunteering

Rick, the kids, and I volunteered at the UAH Spring 10K on Sunday, March 4 at 2:00 p.m.  It seemed like a good run to volunteer at since we are marathon training and not as ready for 10K races right now.  And it worked out nicely to eat out after church, change clothes, and head over to the UAH campus.  I feel somewhat of a "burden" when I volunteer with my kids, but then they always end up surprising me with how helpful they really can be!  In the summer they volunteered with me at the A&M 10K (see here) and were great at spraying runners with a water hose and cleaning up the cups.  Today, they were very helpful at filling up water cups, distributing them, and picking them up.  Let's just say that they also added a little something to the aid station too.  Here's the story.

It was a chilly day (low 50s) with a brisk wind (you wouldn't think so from the picture of my daughter, but she was offered tights to wear, and she refused!).  This race is a 5K course run twice, and the only aid station sits somewhere around miles 1 and 4.  When we arrived at UAH, the race director told us to head to the aid station to begin filling cups.  It was a short walk from the start/finish line.  We began filling cups and soon had the entire table and surrounding curbs filled also.

Filling cups--half full!

Soon the people started running by for the first time (they would eventually pass us four times total).  Andrew Hodges was first, with a pretty good lead which you can see below.  As we started handing out waters, I realized that there are definitely different types of hand offs!  There were many sloshed waters (even though we grabbed the cups lightly at the top so the runners could wrap their hands around the cups) and even a few missed attempts!  Then there were the people who slowed down or even stopped for the water.  It was so sweet to see so many people choose to take waters from the kids.  The kids would shout, "Yes!" if they were able to hand out a water without getting splashed.  I love that they turned handing out the water into a game!

Go Andrew!

After seeing the majority of the runners twice, we filled more cups and readied ourselves for Round 2.  This is when the kids did something that I thought was absolutely adorable and very sweet.  They started gathering flowers to hand out with the waters.  They were placing the flowers gently over the top of the water cups, not in them.  Now since I am a runner who takes her races pretty seriously, I know you may be thinking, "Ummm, are you sure the runners actually wanted the flowers?"  But I found that the people who chose to take waters from the kids really didn't mind at all!  I heard many people exclaim, "Oh!" and "Bless you!"
They would smile brightly and even continue to hold the flower long after tossing the cup.

I saw something that could have been boring or even a chore (handing out water to runners) turned into something that was fun and special.  We were all just smiling and having the best time doing this together as a family.  We enjoyed commenting favorably about each runner who accepted the flowers, and the kids loved running to the grassy area to collect more.  And the runners!!  SO MANY runners called out a "thanks!" to us as they went by.  Manning a water station seems like such a small thing to do, but it was nice to know that so many people appreciated our little job.

Even more surprising was how we used this opportunity as a means to teach our kids about the importance of volunteering, and then they were the ones who taught us how to really reach out in love to those around you as only a child can.  Though this sport has not yet given them much, it has given me a lot.  It was so sweet for me to see them volunteering with such dedication and excitement for something that means so much to me. Today I learned from them the true attitude which we should all have whenever we do something for others. You are never "just handing out waters."  You never know when it might be much more than that to someone.

My daughter handing out water

Our neighbor (running her first 10K) accepts water and a "bonus" flower.

Carrying her flowers after a job well done

Less Than One Week to Go...

With less than a week left to go before Mountain Mist, it is time to post about my strategies, time goal, and tapering.  I don't have posts ready on any of that!  I am feeling the usual mix of being unprepared.  The waves of self-doubt are washing over me.  But the fact that this is a really busy week for me is helping me to have less time to stress out!

All I can manage for now are a few bullet points.

• The black toenail on my big right toe is REALLY black now!  I am hoping I will not feel it at all in Mountain Mist.

The toe as it looks now

•  I LOVE my five year old son.  Here is his note to me one night at dinner.  Try reading it by sounding out the letters before seeing the caption for what it actually says. 

"You are wonderful, Mom."  Right back at you, kiddo!

Many of my friends have asked me, "So what exactly is an ultramarathon?"  I assumed that it was any distance over a marathon, so technically it could be a 26.3 mile race.  The 50K is the next common distance over the marathon distance, so, naturally, you hear about those a lot.  Then I started to wonder if I was right after all, so I looked up the definition of an ultramarathon, and I was right.  I liked reading about the two kinds of ultramarathons.  Read the link to find out more. I both love and fear the "informational email" we get this week about the Mountain Mist 50K.  I wrote about it near the end of this post last year.  This year, the part about what's available at each aid station struck me as something pretty funny to newbies or non-ultra runners.  I think most people assume that you don't eat while you run or that you only drink fluids to replenish.  NOT true for ultra runners.  They eat anything and everything!  This is from the informational email from the race directors: "The aid stations are well stocked with pretzels, chips, candy, Gu, cookies, coke, mellow yellow, and more junk! You should have no problem running this race without a personal aid crew. There will be a variety of food at each aid station!"  I personally love the M&Ms and grab a handful at every aid station.  Good fuel!   Wish me luck during the taper!  I hope to have a couple of entries about the race before the big day up here so check back!

IMT Des Moines Marathon October 18, 2009

Disaster Strikes

The IMT Des Moines Marathon on October 18, 2009 was the marathon-that-almost-wasn't for Rick and me.  I called it our unlucky state #14!  As I look back, it's probably the marathon that proved how tough I am and how much I want to be able to run marathons.  Not only would it have been easier to not run this marathon, it arguably would have been smarter and even safer too.  The things you really want sometimes involve risks, but they are worth it in the end.  They prove what you are made of.

Preparing for the Trip from Alabama to Iowa

 

We were preparing to run a marathon a month after our Maui Marathon on September 20, 2009.  It seemed like the best use of our training to find another marathon to run roughly a month after Maui.  We had done this before with good results, and we were eager to get back into marathons after a pretty big hiatus.  Iowa came up as a possible state since it was close to Wisconsin.  Wisconsin was where my younger sister, Laurie, lived at the time, and she was willing to come over to Iowa and watch the kids for us as we ran (to see the entry about how Laurie helped us during the Madison, WI marathon go here).  So that is how the IMT Des Moines Marathon came up as a possibility for us.

I am thankful for Rick, since he is a planner and I am more of a dreamer.  He planned this trip for us, mapping the route, making hotel reservations, and registering us for the race.  Everything was in place and going according to plan when his work called him to Cape Canaveral, Florida at the last minute, right before we were supposed to leave for Iowa.  I was crushed.  There was no way for him to make it back in time for us to drive up to Iowa together.  I started thinking that maybe I could drive up there alone.  Now, the kids were two and three years old back then, and the trip was almost 800 miles, or at least fourteen hours with stops.  And I never drive on our car trips thanks to a great husband who always drives!  All of these things were BIG obstacles for me to get around if I wanted to run the marathon.  And at the time, it was just for me.  We both decided that Rick's chances of getting up there to run it were very slim due to the work situation in the Cape.  I had decided to do the drive alone when, at the last minute, my mom refused to let me drive it solo and agreed to come along with me. 

The Trip Up 

The trip from Alabama to Iowa with two toddlers was pretty rough, and I really don't think I could have done it without my mom's help and a trusty GPS.  The thing that I remember most about the trip was stopping for dinner at Subway near the kids' bedtime (about 7:00 p.m.).  My mom was thinking we would be looking for a hotel in that city since we had been on the road all day.  I refused to stop, changed the kids into their nightclothes, and drove for five more hours while they slept in the back.  Those of you with young kids know that it is much better to get driving time in while they are sleeping.  I did not want to strap them in for five hours when they were fresh in the morning.  I wanted them to be in Iowa.  I was in rough shape when we arrived near 1:00 a.m. at the hotel.  As we shuttled sleeping children and luggage into the dark hotel, I wondered what I had been thinking when I decided that I could safely do this part alone.  I was thankful my mom was there.

At the hotel the morning after the day-long car ride

Day Before the Race

If I remember correctly, the drive occurred on Thursday, so we had all Friday to explore Des Moines. It turned out to be a great plan. We used a reciprocal gardens pass to visit their botanical gardens and shopped at a great mall.   Below is a picture of the yummy Cheesecake Factory cheesecake slice that we all split after lunch.

Carbo-loading?

We used the GPS to find the expo, since Rick had programmed the directions in it before he left for his trip.  I--of course--picked up his packet too, but we still didn't know if he'd be able to get here to run the race.  He was trying to fly from Florida to Iowa with a midnight arrival time.  Oh yeah, and we told Laurie (a grad student who had a ton of work that weekend) that she did not need to come watch the kids after all since my mom was with us.  It turns out that two years later, we eventually found another race for her to help out at!

The next two pictures show us outside of the expo and at the pasta restaurant.  We brought spaghetti home to eat in the hotel room.  My son loves to tell the story of how he spilled his pasta all over the white hotel bed as he ate.  I think it is one of his earliest memories!

Outside the expo

Getting pasta to go
This picture sums up this trip to me---a mom first and a marathoner second. 

I tried to get some sleep in our little room while waiting to hear Rick's arrival at midnight.  I was so glad to hear the key in the door!  He had made it and would be able to run after all!  Little did I know that his experience in the marathon the next day would be less than ideal.

The Race

I don't remember too much about this race, but here's a bulleted list of the things I do remember:

• Beautiful fall leaves on the streets (I loved the beautiful changing leaves!)
• Bagpipe music being played on the course
• Chatting with other runners
• Beautiful rainbow bridge we ran over with little rainbows cast from little prisms in the railings
• Getting sub 3:50 for the first time in five years
• Waiting for Rick while sipping a free beer at the post race party (good sized marathon)
• Buying our marathon medal display holder as an early Christmas present

Splits
1 8:35
2 8:13
3 8:16
4 8:39
5 8:51
6 8:33
7 8:25
8 8:28
9 8:27
10 8:20
11 8:20
12 8:07
13 8:29
14 8:32
15 8:27
16 8:22
17 8:19
18 8:42
19 8:50
20 8:56
21 9:14
22 9:24
23 9:40
24 9:54
25 9:23
26 9:31
.2 2:10

overall 3:49:19
8:46 pace
420/1367

We made it back to the hotel relieved that all had ended well (that is, we both finished the state!).  For me, the 3:49:19 marked the first time in five years to go below a 3:50.  I raised my bar after that and no longer made my goal sub-four hours.  I credit my time at this race for giving me the confidence to run the 3:35 I got the following February at the Mardi Gras marathon.  I was getting the hang of running marathons while mothering young children!
 

Iowa finishers!

Hard-earned

Returning Home

We returned home on a two day trip (yea!), stopping in St. Louis to stay the night at my aunt and uncle's house and to see Rick off on an airplane back to the Cape (where his hotel room there was waiting for him).  Above is the whole gang at my aunt and uncle's house. 

Below is a picture of the arch.  When I see this picture, I think about how I circled around and around the arch trying to get on a bridge that was on the GPS map but was actually closed for construction.  This picture reminds me of the hard work, courage, and pure stubbornness I used to make this marathon happen.  And that is why running was the easiest part of State #14. 

We circled this many times.

It Takes a Village....

I'm sure you know the expression, "It takes a village to raise a child."  Well, it doesn't take a village, but it does take someone with a big ol' selfless heart to watch marathoners' kids so they can run a marathon.  That "someone" in our case has been a family member--my sisters, my mom, Rick's sister, or Rick's parents.  In the last four years, we have done seven marathons where we needed a sitter to come with us, to meet us in a different state, or to watch our children at our house so we could run the marathon.  This is huge.  Without them, we simply could not achieve what we have done over the last four years.  They have fueled our dreams.  "Thank you" does not encompass my gratitude for what they have done for us.  I liken it to give someone with a broken leg crutches so that they can walk.  I am not kidding.  It enabled us to do something that would be simply impossible without their help.  

My younger sister, Laurie, has gifted us once already with her babysitting skills.  Laurie was a twenty-five year old PhD student in chemical engineering with little free time and no children of her own when we asked her to watch our kids (1 1/2 years and nine months old) so we could run the Madison, WI marathon in May of 2008.  It was to be our first marathon since they were born.  We didn't know if it could be done.  It couldn't, without Laurie's help.  We were thankful for Laurie. 

Laurie is going to help us again this week so that we can run the Chicago marathon.  So again, we are thankful for Laurie.  

Do I envy people who can do it all themselves, as I used to before I had my kids?  No, I don't.  Learning to rely on others-- to meet me on early morning runs, to encourage me in emails and blog comments, and to watch my children so I can run---has made me a person who is full of gratitude, a person who realizes that it is not all about me.  

What is it like marathoning with young children?  Can you picture traveling with two babies for twelve hours in the car, having a sleepless night before the race, dropping them at a sitter's house in the early morning, running the marathon, and rushing back to nurse your nine month old?  So what is that like?  It is wonderful.  I am thankful for the chance.  And I wouldn't change a thing.  

I finished the race in 3:56:02, but it is was one of the races where my finish time was really irrelevant.  The whole experience meant so much more to me than my finish time.  I ran that race with my husband by my side, and I knew my children were being well taken care of while we ran.  I couldn't ask for more than that.

Here are some pictures.

Two pack 'n' plays set up in our hotel room side-by-side.

Carbo loading with Aunt Laurie

Back at Laurie's apartment after the marathon

Post race ice cream shared by the whole family

A tired little one after the big marathon day

Laurie with her two small charges

Monkey See, Monkey Do

Just when you think they're not watching...

They ride in your double jogging stroller, thinking that you are doing this for fun!

And they wind up deciding to push their older (and heavier) brother around the driveway over and over and over again!

It reminds me of the song "Oh, be careful little eyes."  Your children are always watching you and imitating you, even when you least expect it (like above).  If they see you running, they will run.  If they see you eating healthy foods, they will eat healthy foods.  If you see you pushing a double stroller, they, too, will want to push someone as they are running! 

That little four year old pushing more than her weight as she runs?  I love her. 

And, just for today, I feel like I am showing her the right example for her little feet to follow.

A Mom's Thoughts During the First Week of Kindergarten

Our running conversations are one of the best unexpected benefits of having a running group.  My group of girls talks about anything and everything.  I've have some of my longest uninterrupted conversations over the past couple of years with these girls.  If you are a stay at home mom, you know what I mean.  It's nice to talk without having two needy kids.  Even though I've taught mine that we don't interrupt  adults' conversations, those leave-in-the-middle-of-the-sentence moments still occur.  So I love our uninterrupted time while we run.

Kids were the topic of one of our recent runs.  It's been a busy week of back-to-school, and all of us are processing the fact that our kids are another grade older.  Inevitably, the topic turned to my ever present "third child" conundrum.  Here's the boat that I am in (and several of my friends too): Two kids, a boy and a girl.  Each child getting older and more and more independent every day.  My biological clock ticking LOUDLY in my ears (my 34th birthday is Saturday).  This year is a crossroads year for me, the precious last year before both of mine are in "big school."  So it's either stay at home and have another baby or start thinking of ways to fill the hours while mine are away at school.  There are pros and cons to having a third baby.  I could list them for hours (and have as we've weighed our choices).  But mostly, I just get sad thinking that all of the baby moments are almost gone.  There is nothing like these first five years.  I've watched two miracles grow from baby to child, and I'm not sure I'm ready to leave this stage behind.

My son started kindergarten at our preschool this week.  He's loving it.  I remember a song I first heard at his newborn baby session.  It was so fitting and true.  It became one of the lullabies that I still sing to my children as they go to bed at night.

It is "Lullaby" by Dixie Chicks. 

They didn't have you where I come from
Never knew the best was yet to come
Life began when I saw your face
And I hear your laugh like a serenade

How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough, is forever enough
How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough
Cause I'm never, never giving you up

They really didn't have children from where I came from (though I was a school teacher, it is not the same).  I really didn't know that the best was yet to come.  And life really did begin when I saw their faces.  Nothing else seems to matter.

And yet, what is one of my biggest cons for having another baby?  ME!  Giving up my body, my sleep, my running, or at least putting it on hold for several months.  Of course, finances, time to devote to each child, and other issues are also at hand.  For now, we weigh the options.  And I savor what I've been given because, truly, I never knew what I was missing until I had them.

July 14-15 Training

Thursday, July 14

Hal called for a 7 mile "marathon pace" run today, and for me that's a 7:27.  I headed out without a Garmin at 8:30 in the hot morning sun for my run.  Oh yeah, and I was pushing the double stroller. 

Needless to say, I did NOT run a 7:27 pace.  But I did run for 70 minutes, was dripping with sweat when I was done (my hands were pruney like I'd been in a swimming pool), and managed to fit in a stop at a nearby playground for my two kids to get some exercise too.

I read a blog about a mom that pushes a triple stroller.  I really admire her because she is brave enough to post her splits when she runs with it.  I don't think I've ever worn a Garmin when I'm running with the double.  It is hard enough to run with 100 pounds of stroller and children!  In case anyone reading this wants a few tips for running with the kids, here is what I thought about today.

• Pack snacks  Mine usually eat their breakfast in the stroller (cereal, Poptarts, granola bars, etc.) or their lunch (cheese cubes or slices, crackers, drink).  If they finish it all, they get dessert.  Here is where you can add in foods that take a long time to eat (gummy bears, ring pops, and--my favorite--candy buttons).  Today I packed my kids' food in reusable bags, with the dessert inside this bag in a ziplock bag.  My kids could easily take their bags to the stroller and strap themselves in. 

Dry cereal breakfast with a gummy bear dessert

• Repeat your route  Others may disagree, but I think doing the same 3-6 mile route with your stroller is just enough, and this way the kids know how much longer they have to sit. 

• Reward them at the end  My favorite thing to do is to "race" my kids for the last block or so as we head home.  I let them upstrap and then "race" me home (of course, I let them win).  This lets them have some fun too! 

Happy faces (and ballet poses!) as we head out for our run

Friday, July 15

I had intended for this to be a 14 mile run since I was adding 2 miles to the 12 miles I had run last week in my long run.  I started the run with my friends, and we did our first mile in 11:02.  The rest of the miles were around a 10:00 pace.  They did 6 miles with me. 

Since I had not gotten a marathon pace run yesterday, I tried to speed up gradually so that my last few miles would be faster.  I was aiming to get a few of them to marathon pace.  I was happy to note that the last few miles ended up feeling great.  I think the speedwork is helping me to feel stronger in the long runs.  This is something I will try to note since it is a new thing for me.  I felt so good that I decided to add 2 more miles to the 14, and I ended up with 16.58 miles.  The last 5.58 were: 8:47, 8:07, 7:56, 7:46, 7:28, and 7:19 (for the .58).  My music died early on, but I think running the miles without distraction was also a good move training-wise.  I liked how focused I felt. 

One week down, 11 more to go!

Thoughts on Three Hours of Sleep

He came on the Fourth of July holiday five years ago to parents who'd once thought life was about running.  They chose a name that meant "gift from God," and he was, in more ways than one.  He was busy and curious and never standing still.  His first word was "go!"  His first sentence was " [I'll] be back, Momma."  He was a textbook baby his first year, sleeping through the night at exactly six weeks, crawling at seven months, and walking at a year and a week.  He lulled his parents into thinking all babies were that peaceful and wonderful (His spitfire sister was born one day shy of his fourteenth month and proved them wrong!). 

His fourth year was one amazing moment after another.  He taught himself to swim the summer he turned four.  He swam for hours each day at the pool.  He played soccer for the first time in the fall of that year.  A few games into the season (and during a terrible downpour no less!), he got the hang of soccer in an instant.  You never saw him without the ball the rest of the season.  In the spring he balanced himself easily on a scooter so training wheels were removed.  He became a two-wheel rider with absolute ease.  His clumsy mother marveled at the things that came to him so easily.  He was a natural athlete with a long, slender body where baby chub had once been.  He wasn't only a marvel in athletics though.  His once-teacher mother showed him flashcards with sightwords and word families.  He read so well that year that she put the brakes on the teaching so he'd have something to learn once he started kindergarten. 

That boy is my one-and-only son, and of course, that momma is me.  And forgive me if I seem like I'm boasting (though I'm really just telling the facts).  Today I am reflective and thankful.  You see, my son fell off that bike last night.  I came upon the accident scene (a once fun dirt "mountain" in our neighborhood) and saw an enormous amount of blood all over his face and shirt.  Rick took him home, and he was cleaned a bit in the tub.  Alabama red dirt and blood were everywhere.  His sister surprised us all by quickly fetching his clean clothes, water, and paper towels to wipe up the mess (her little stool is still in the kitchen where she'd raced to get the towels).  She spent the night at her ever-helpful aunt's house. 

We were in the ER for five hours.  While we waited, I examined and cleaned up and dabbed the way only a mother can.  I comforted and told what was going to happen as though it was no big deal (they can sense your fear).  I signed the permission forms while blinking back tears.  I whispered gently into his ear about the failed IV attempt being "no big deal" though inside I was angry that they had to stick him twice.  I watched the doctors sedate him and put stitches inside his mouth and in his once perfect-skinned cheek.  I sat on the edge of my seat during the operation to fix his wounds (why would they let the parents stay in the room for such a thing?).  I heard his pulse beeping on the monitor, "99, 101, 100" and was brought back in an instant to the sound of the fetal heart rate monitor I used every day in my second trimester with him (The things a previous miscarriage will do to you are haunting).  I wiped tears (his and mine) and sang songs and rocked the best that one can without one's comfy rocking chair.  While we waited for the presciptions to be filled, I ran through the 24-hour grocery store and picked up jello, chicken broth, ice cream, and pudding to feed him over the next few days.  I adjusted plans and thought about how missing the last soccer game this weekend would also be painful to my four year old.        

It is the next day, and he is asleep now.  Today I think of his bravery in the ER, his needs today, and how grateful I am to God for protecting him.  And yes, yet again, with great ease I put running aside as I mother my sweet boy.

Shine in Use

My daughter mid-jump at the dance recital

You remember that I'm not a girly girl, right?  Well, my baby girl just finished her first year of dance on Saturday.  In true form, I stayed pretty clueless about everything as the year went on--the costumes, the pictures, the recital.  Dance is definitely in the details, and boy are there a ton!  My biggest flop was on picture day.  I put her ribbons on in the wrong places.  She came to dance with the sash ribbon around her neck and no sash!  Then I put the makeup on her as recommended, and I decided that I didn't like it and rubbed it all off.  Yes I did.  It felt a little "Toddlers and Tiaras" to me.  And I failed to practice her song with her until two weeks before the recital.  This turned out to be the beginning of a very special parenting moment for me.     

It started when I filmed her class as they practiced their dance for the recital.  I sat down to watch their practice and realized how many of the moves my daughter was doing wrong.  In particular, she loved the bourree turns--a little too much.  She'd twirl three times around when she was supposed to twirl once, and she really messed up the last one in the routine.  It was tricky.  Hands were to be on hips and not over the head, and they had to turn once to the right and then reverse the turn to the left.  A hard concept for a three year old!  But she was cute with all of her mishaps, and three year olds were expected to mess up!  I faced the first of many parenting dilemmas about whether or not I should intervene. 

Well, the perfectionist in me won out, and I proceeded to learn the dance myself to help her at home.  We did plies and bourree turns.  We jumped in and jumped out.  We worked at it like someone who wants to get better does.  She grew more confident, but the double bourree turn at the end still gave her trouble.  We practiced it for Daddy, me guiding her little body while we sang the lines of the song: "Sing along!  If you cannot sing them hum along!"  Recital day loomed.

At the dress rehearsal, the huge Snow White backdrop distracted her too much, and she spent most of the time turning around to see it and pointing it out to the girls around her.  "Momma wants to see you do your dance!" I reasoned, trying to gently get her to realize that she should do her best.  Saturday came, and we found our seats.  We were near the back as rookies often are, not realizing how early the good seats get taken. 

I sat nervously counting the dances before hers and fiddling with my ID bracelet that would allow me to retrieve the right girl at the end of the recital.  I thought of her standing backstage with her class.  I wondered what she was thinking about.  I silently encouraged her and wished she could hear me.  And then, she was on stage.  Her tiny arms and feet were moving.  Her sweet purple dress was swaying.  Her curls were bouncing.  She was beautiful.  My eyes were tear-glazed, and my heart was racing.  She hit move after move as I mentally danced along with her.  I waited with anticipation for the double bourree turn at the end, and then there it was.  She had done it perfectly.

How many parents have watched their daughters dance?  How many have had eyes shine with joy just as mine did?  Too many to count.  But on Saturday, I experienced it for the first time.  And I loved it and I love her.

I am reminded of a favorite quote of mine by Alfred Lord Tennyson:

How dull it is to pause, to make an end.

To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!

This quote speaks to me about about really living your life to the fullest--whether you are dancing or running or parenting.  Unburnished metals are not made shiny and smooth by friction.  I thought about my little girl's ballet shoes and my running shoes and how they were worn out by all of our wear.  And I read the rest of his quote, a part I had never seen before:

As tho' to breathe were life!
 
As though to breathe were life?  How sad!  To think that just breathing was enough.  To not challenge yourself.  To not wear out your shoes!  To not shine in use.  His quote serves as a reminder of the brevity of my life.  I want to live it fully.  And I challenge you to live fully too.

Well worn shoes

Mother's Day and (What else?) Running

With Mother's Day approaching on Sunday, I decided to share with you my most favorite children's book of all time--Someday by Alison McGhee.  The words, the pictures---I seriously cannot get through this book without crying.  It is pretty funny to me to hear myself reading it aloud to my children.  My voice gets all quivery and a huge lump forms in my throat, and they are both like, "What? What's the matter, Momma?"  You see, they just don't get my perspective at all. 

This book begins when the child is a baby.  The mom is just enjoying her little baby girl so much.  But the mom says, "Then you were my baby.  Now you are my child."  She goes on to reveal some of her dreams that she has for her little girl once she is grown up.  This is the part that gets me every single time.  She wants her child to fully experience life--including the hurts.  That is my wish for my children too.  Oh, and there's a part about running!  She writes, "Someday you will run so fast and so far your heart will feel like fire."  The children never understand this part, but I bet you will, dear reader and running friend.  I wish this so much for my children, that they will experience running as I have.  As you also know, it is a most wonderful feeling.  

McGhee goes on to write about how this child will grow up to one day feel the weight of her own child on her back, how she will brush her daughter's hair, and how one day she (her baby!!) will have silver hair.  I can't imagine this---my little ones being old one day, being parents themselves, and me being only a memory to them.  I love how this book doesn't express the mother's huge and lofty aspirations for her child.  She doesn't want her to achieve fame and glory.  She wants her to experience life fully---to know the joy she has felt through something as simple as motherhood. 

So today, I embrace my role as the mother to my two wonderful children--my gifts, my joys.  Today I dream of the full lives they will lead.  And today I hope--however selfish it may seem--that they will carry a piece of me wherever they may go.  They mean the world to me. 

I will leave you with a favorite quote from Maureen Hawkins about the honor and awe that is motherhood.  

Before you were conceived

I wanted you

Before you were born

I loved you

Before you were here an hour

I would give my life for you

This is the miracle of life.

~ Maureen Hawkins

If at first you don't succeed, try, try again

I am sitting here holding the Go! St. Louis Marathon medal and recalling this past weekend's events.  I am just overwhelmed with thankfulness to my husband for suggesting that I head back to St. Louis this year to try again in the marathon.  And I am hoping that this will make a great "If at first you don't succeed..." story for my children one day.  This marathon had lots of ups and downs, but in the end, my ability to not give up is what I hope to remember most.

Friday and Saturday Before
We left Madison at 8:30 a.m. on Friday, April 8th for a 6 hour drive up to St. Louis.  The day started with me jolting awake and realizing that I'd forgotten to set my alarm clock for my 4:45 a.m. run with my friends.  I settled for 30 minutes on the elliptical machine instead and considered it good tapering. 

We made it to the arch by mid-afternoon.  I don't think there's a better way to be welcomed into St. Louis then by riding up to the top of the arch and looking out at the city below.  But our 3 year old had had enough of sitting still.  She made her point to us by loudly squeaking throughout the tour.  "Squeaks" was getting quite a few stares and annoyed glances.  Here are pictures of the view from the arch and of "Squeaks" as she takes in the view (while squeaking loudly in protest and clinging to the wall for dear life):

View from the arch

Our little tree frog "Squeaks" holds on for dear life.

We also were able to fit in the Expo that same day.  "Squeaks" had gotten blisters after insisting on wearing red dress shoes on the trip up, so I agreed to carry her in her baby sling.  Well, it is good for up to 35 pounds, and I am glad to say that it passed that test with my 31 pounder that day!  I felt like I got quite the workout traveling with her on my front.  Don't be fooled by how easy it looks in the picture below--that thing will kill your back.

Heading to our car from the Expo.

On Saturday, we visited The Magic House children's museum for free using our local museum's reciprocal membership.  I think we may try to visit a children's museum in every state we run in too!

The Magic House fun

That night I carbo-loaded on pizza from Imo's Pizza that we ate in a nearby park.  Maybe not the best choice, but it worked.  We got more snacks at a Target.  The children marveled at the escalator that even had an adjoining escalator for your cart!  We took a quick dip in the pool (the highlight of the hotel or "hoe-tail" as my daughter calls it). 

Race Morning
As usual before a marathon, I tossed and turned quite a bit on Saturday night.  I got up at 5:20 a.m. to take a shower and get ready to go.  Rick had decided to drive me to the start line, a wonderfully chivalrous thing for him to do--and much appreciated!   Of course, the children had to get up and come too.  They were surprisingly chipper for such an early morning!  The traffic was pretty heavy going onto the exit ramps near the start line, but since we weren't parking he drove me right to the start area to drop me off.  I left my drop bag with him before he pulled away.  Not needing a drop bag was another unusual luxury for me!  I had about 45 minutes to wait in line for the port-a-potties, stretch, and find my corral (B) before the 7 a.m. start.  I positioned myself near the 3:20 pacer but tuned him out after noticing his tacky skirt (yes, skirt) and his talk about walking through the water stations.  Not for me.  The temperature was in the high 60s, and it was nice to start without being cold.  This would not feel so nice later on, though.

The Race
UPDATE: I have since learned that "Cliff Blocks" is actually spelled "Clif Bloks."  I like my way better, so I'm leaving it!)
My first mile was a fast 7:21, and things were going well until I noticed something in my pants!  My Cliff Blocks were crammed into a tiny jewelry baggie and safety-pinned to my shorts and tucked inside.  Well, at the last minute, I added 3 more Blocks to my original 6 (I just couldn't finish them before the race and didn't want to waste them).  I guess the baggie couldn't hold them all, so it busted from the bottom.  Two Blocks were dancing all over my shorts, and the rest were not far behind.  I fished them out (feeling sorry for those who saw me!) and debated about what to do.  So here I am, my sweaty hand holding 9 melting, sticky Blocks designed for mile 20, and I'm at mile 2 of the race.  A photographer happened to be right there, and I held them out for a picture to preserve the fiasco!  I decided to eat them slowly, thinking that taking them too early was better than not taking them at all.  I struggled to use my sticky fist to grab waters, hit "lap" on my watch, and hold the Gu given to me at mile 8 (which I had absolutely no use for at that point).

I still managed to fall into a nice rhythm for the first 9 miles.  Though I did have one foolishly fast 6:56 mile, the rest were a little closer to the 7:30's I was shooting for.  I was majorly buoyed by seeing Rick and the children at miles 11 and 13.  I felt the need to try to tell him the Cliff Blocks story upon seeing him the second time (see below). 
   

The children playing in the nearby park while waiting to see me running.

Mile 11

Telling my story at Mile 13 (and I'm sure making no sense!)

Oh my gosh, am I still talking?

My half split was roughly the same as my Myrtle Beach split time, but I didn't feel as confident at all at keeping that pace up for another half.  Looking back at my splits, I began to slow down around mile 14---way too early to be getting tired.  This course was hilly and the temperature was so much warmer than what I'd trained in.  My body was just trying too hard to keep it up in the heat.  Honestly, I felt a little dejavou about the whole race--in a bad way.  Could a race really beat me down twice?  In the war between me and this race, this race had already won one battle! 

I continued on with a sub-9 minute mile pace until mile 22.  Seeing the spot where I'd dropped out was such an emotional experience.  And Rick was there!  He was holding two cups of Gatorade for me (the person in front of me in the picture below--I guess--thought Rick was an aid station and tried to take one!).  I was so tired by then, so I croutched on the spot to drink the Gatorade.  I was thinking about how 365 days had passed over this very fateful spot.  "You spilled," mumbled my daughter, and I thought, "Baby, that's the last thing on my mind right now."  I must've said something like, "I don't think I can finish today either," and Rick used the opportunity to say, "Oh yes you will!" and swatted me on the bottom as I slowly began walking.  I was now wearing his hat, which he lent me for a bit of relief from the heat.  That mile was a 10:12.

I am pointing to the spot where I dropped out last year. 

I'd like to say that there was some crescendo moment as the last few miles passed by me, but that just wasn't the case.  They were very tough, very slow miles, though I appreciated seeing the part of the course that I'd so longed to see the year before.  I started pouring a water cup over my head at each aid station and even had a volunteer pour an entire pitcher over my head near the end.  I later learned that the course was closed to those people who hadn't yet made it to mile 9 by 9:15 a.m.  Strong, very fit men all around me were walking, (I guess) also surprised by the heat that I now knew would keep me from entering any more April marathons.  I walked two more times in this race and saw several women pass me by, along with my top-20 finish.  It didn't matter today though.  This race was about retribution, and finishing was the way I would get that.  I was pleasantly surprised to see a 3:35 time on the clock at the finish line and managed a faster trot to get under in 3:35:43.     

Rick calls this picture, "Take that, St. Louis, and your heat!"

I ended up going to the medical tent due to a pretty persistent volunteer who wouldn't let me sit down on the ground like I wanted.  My legs were hurting and my stomach was a little tight (probably from excessive Cliff Blocks).  I lay down in there for about 5 minutes, but I knew I felt fine (well, much much better than Myrtle Beach) so I left there quickly and went to find Rick and the children.  Rick took the picture above of me, capturing what can only be called a smirk of triumph.  We stopped for a post-race tradition of ice cream, this time at the "famous" Ted Drews for melty concretes.

"Necessary" post-race ice cream

Do you think the race shirts could get any greener?  Am I a highlighter or what?

Afterwards

I must admit there's a bit of a let down after so much anticipation over this race.  We don't have another marathon planned until October, which is fine since it is too hot for them anyway!  I surprised myself with a 6 mile run on Monday (I can't ever remembering running the day after a marathon before) and an 8 mile run today.  My sore muscles are returning to normal.  Three black toenails remain, little reminders of a story that was over a year in the making--one with a very good ending. 

1 7:21

2 7:10

3 7:24

4 7:12

5 7:28

6 7:29

7 6:56

8 7:19

9 7:17

10 7:34

11 7:33

12 7:39

13 7:28

14 7:51

15 8:05

16 8:14

17 8:23

18 8:18

19 8:38

20 8:48

21 8:50

22 10:12

23 10:43

24 8:43

25 11:55

26 8:16

.2 2:39    

3:35:43 27th Female

Putting it into Perspective

Chillin' during the (two-hour) sit-down reception last weekend

If you've never met me in person before, then this blog is the main way for us to "meet," at least for now that is.  That thought actually kind of scares me a little!  I am focusing so much on one part that you may not be getting an accurate view of me.  I have been thinking about this alot and hoping that I am not coming across as being too focused on running.  Don't get me wrong, I love to run, but it's not who I am.

Thus, some things about Katie that you may or may not know:

*I run (at most) 4 days a week.  It is not a big part of my day, as it's mostly done in the wee morning hours. 

* I often feel like my training is inadequate, but I don't feel like putting in any more effort.  This leads me to "kamikaze run," a term used to describe Shalane Flanagan's once-foolish race strategy that now pretty well describes mine (see Runner's World article here).

* I raced 16 times last year, less than 1/3 of the Saturdays in the year.  I raced only 6 times in 2009.

*My main enjoyment in running comes from the fact that it is a common bond between my husband and me.  We met through running, have finished marathons side-by-side, and offer each other support and encouragement as we train.  I ache for all couples to have something like this that they can enjoy doing together.  I miss the frequent training we used to do together before having children.

*Our main focus for our marathons is childcare and available activities for the children at our destination.  The marathon is a distant dead-last in terms of what I think about as I am packing for one of our trips. 

* I have 60 posts on this blog, which I started last May.  I have 280 posts on my (private) family blog, which I started when my son was born nearly five years ago.  I spend a great deal of time uploading pictures to that blog, adding little stories from the month, etc.  I am on that blog A LOT.  It's a much better picture of who I am.

* I gave up my teaching career to stay at home and raise our two children.  I think alot about what my daily life will be like in two years when they are off in "big school."  My proudest achievement over the last four years has nothing to do with running.  It's teaching at their preschool so that I could pay their tuition with my salary. 

*I love being their mother and work daily on being a better mom.  My nightstand always has a collection of Christian parenting books on it.  I'd much rather get better at mothering than marathoning, and I'd much rather be remembered as a good mother than as some girl who did pretty well in some races.

So, it is my hope that my readers will understand where I'm coming from when I post on this blog.  I will continue to make it very running-heavy, because that's what it's about.  I just wanted you to know that that's not what my life is about.