Did I say consistent?

Nothing wrecks running consistency like a small virus. A weekend of promise. Of motivation.


And one gets that twinge of achy skin. The feeling that you are too tired for it to be 4 p.m. on a Sunday afternoon. Your eyes get the achy feeling of two days going to be spent laying on the couch with intermittent water/bathroom breaks and the spotty ibuprofen checks. It is what can turn the most encouragable of runners into pudding. And this is exactly what happened to me this weekend.

So I lay on my couch, with only the energy to type a quick entry to keep myself from drifting into the land of the dying, and to type for no other reason as to remember that I made a commitment. To not give up.

Mother's Day Musing

As I sit here with my sweet children, two of which are on Facebook, I appreciate the gift of motherhood. I've been reading some other blogs of friends who are raising toddlers and it makes me think back on the other Mother's Days I've had. The ones where Grant, Ella, and Molly run to me with their Sunday School art projects with beaming eyes saying "I wuv you, mommy!" Molly even brought me one from school this year with a coupon for a mani-pedicure. I looked at her and said, "You would really do this? She replied, "I could at least try???..." I think I may let her off the hook on that one. It would make me queasy to have that hanging over my head, knowing at any moment I could pull a coupon and the next 2 hours would be scraping, filing, massaging, moisturizing, and painting on my mothers hands and feet.


This year, the children gave me a Mother's Day card with a girl sitting on a bench in a white skirt and hot pink Chuck Taylor's. They thought this reminded them of me (funny what your kids really think of you). Grant wrote his sweet sentiments about loving his "momma", Ella said that "I rocked",but the one that made me grin like a Cheshire Cat was Molly's saying. It read, "Mom, thanks for teaching us like you do...like how to shop!" I know, deep down, I have taught her more than this. How to properly tri-fold a towel. How to defrost a pound of meat in a microwave without cooking it. How to maintain proper breathing during running and stay relaxed in your torso. I know there is more I'm passing on to the next generation. But I am written about for how I shop. Ironically, I don't shop a lot. Groceries, yes. But Molly hates that! So, I am assuming it is the immediate break-neck speed I take to the clearance racks for the best deal I can find on last season's styles. Or the way John and I brought home amazing lawn chairs we found in a dumpster and then spray painted to "look" like new. Yes, these are the skills that Mother's Day 10' will be remembered. All to the contemporary tune of "Girls Just Want To Have Fun" playing beside. My kiddos rock!

In other news, I went on a quick two-miler yesterday in an attempt to start the consistent routine. It was good. Not great. But good. Again, loving running is a bittersweet gig. Maybe the weight training will help the running along. At least the Kelly Rippa image I want will be in my head, even if it isn't on my body...

a recurring theme in life...

Looking back at the lack of blogging I've done just shows me the life I am living is an ever growing, ever changing, recurring one. Isn't it so true that we just let things slip in our lives and then get the friendly reminder that one needs to remember what brought you joy and gives you peace.

Well, in saying that, I have taken a year to graduate college and get my first teaching job here in Richmond, but realized I have let myself slip into a foggy haze of neglect. Neglect of what truly brings me joy. And that, ladies and gents, is exercising. Weird. Maybe sadistic. But nonetheless, i LOVE exercising. I miss the consistent feeling I have of running on a 4-5 day routine. I miss the social of friends when we are on the road and talk the first mile about nonesuch and then listen to the rhythmic breathing of each other as we get through to the end. Now, in saying this, I am not good at running. NOOOO, just the opposite, I am really bad at it. I cry, I whine, I say to myself, "you are crazy for hurting like this. why would you do this? you need to be doing laundry. you need to spend time with your kids watching them do laundry. you pee when you run, go do yoga..." Honestly, I might be the most negative runner I know. But when those miles are done, when I pushed through that hurt...ahhhhh, it brings me a satisfaction only a cold Peppermint Patty after a hot Mexican meal can :)

So I write this today, looking out a a beautiful breezy cool Saturday afternoon, in pledge that I will start the recurrence of consistency. To not do the things that bring you joy is pitiful. Even if they hurt a little. I need to a race to run and a goal to obtain. My empty calendar needs to be full of daily reminders that I am doing that which is hard, but I can do. An unset goal is a goal hit every time. So if anyone has a suggestion to get this runner off to a good start, please comment. Maybe you could goal set with me? Annnnndddddd go...

Hello, I love you, won't you tell me your name?

Hey! Hey there? Remember the time when i used to blog often? Since my last blog was when Ella turned 12 and she is 3 months shy of 13, needless to say--lots has happened. WE moved to a new home, I graduated from college, got a new job as a 3rd grade teacher, and I am attempting to learn my way as the leader of this special group. I would love to put there pictures up, I don't as a respect of confidentiality. But trust me, they are awesome. Teaching them is a great gift. I am learning much and finding that I am inadequate in so many ways. What matters is I am loving them in ways only I can (like making them own problems, be responsible in our school community, and chewing gum in our room is totally ok even when the school community won't let us :)

I have found that living in a new house is a great and wonderful thing. Now what is not so wonderful is the limited amount of time I have to make this home "ours". What does that mean really? New paint, new furnishings, new drapes? You know its your home when you come home to find Ella's boots in the foyer, her coat following her in the living room floor, and she is sitting in the kitchen already into her 2nd bowl of Reese's Puffs cereal after a long day of being and academic genius (well, for middle school that is). Those are the times I breathe in a sigh of thankfulness--then tell her to be responsible and get her stuff up.

Grant played his first season of freshman football and came out all the better. He is a lean, trim version of the unsure Grant we once knew. I applaud how courageous he was even when he was so mad at us for making him do "this". He has often said, "I don't know what i would be like if you hadn't made me play football." I know what he would have been like and I'm glad that I made him push himself. I'm glad when he was begging me not to make him go back to camp, I told him to "suck it up" and get in the car. I'm glad I got to sit in the bleachers and watch him from the sidelines as he was passed over to play, while his friends won game after game, and I got the pleasure of watching him congratulate them genuinely. He learned the game of football, yes. But the best teacher of the semester was the master of looking outside yourself and being part of the team. He was part. Not a significant part this year. Maybe not even next year. But he had joy just being in the game. Part of the team. One of the guys. And they boys on the team loved him. Were encouraged by his resolve. Were cheered up by him "good gaming" them when they came off the field. Were helped when mom gave them rides from practice and he never complained about not playing. Isn't that how we should be in towards service to the church. Rooting on one another with no complaining? Cheering those who are seemingly "more" in the game than we. He learned much from the semester sport, but was an example to me of just being in the Lord. Growing on the sideline. That is a sweet lesson only taught by patience and perseverance.