Mission Accomplished

 

Excuse the grainy phone photo taken by the twelve year old on the couch but I didn't bring my good camera to yesterday's pre-run pit stop at Larry's.  There are several good things about this picture:  Friends, the run for the cause, the buckstove cranking out heat behind us warming us up for the cold run, but my favorite is Megan, Larry's wife, sitting atop her favorite horse in the photo on the mantel behind us and the silver trophy beside it.  I've never seen passion for horses (and animals) like hers.  It is a thing of beauty.  It's almost as if she was there in the picture with us, but in reality she was (of course) out riding.

 

We were down a runner, Mimi worked, but we picked Mike further on up on the road like a hitchiker or desperate running junkie.  We were a loose band yesterday, Mike peeled off from us at 4 to round his run out with 8, Larry veered off at mile 5 to eventually complete 13 and Clair and I stuck together for some coveted girl time for a full and tiring 10 miles.  I'm learning so much about running, my body, myself.

I turned into a pumpkin around 8:30, falling asleep in front of the woodstove while Clair went out and partied like Cinderella all night long.  Fair to say I'm still adjusting to the "long run".

The Detriment of Youth

a whole life ahead of her

I kissed my husband good bye early yesterday morning, before the roosters crowed and the coffee was ready, before the sun peeked over the barn and told him to stay warm. He told me the same thing, and to have a good run, that he knew I could do it. There were ten miles on the docket despite the sub-freezing temps and he knew I was nervous. Good thing I went with friends.

I don't know how he knew I could do it having never run that distance before.  He's under the impression I could run a marathon tomorrow and he's wrong but I soak up his assuredness, his easy confidence about my running that I lack. He doesn't seem to remember my failures, my aches and pains, the stress fractures, the hip problem that has plagued me for years and the ankle issues like I do. I feel like my body is a ticking time bomb of injury-waiting-to-happen. I remember how slow I felt when I was younger, how I got side stitches, tired easily and was frequently discouraged. He doesn't recall how I flitted from one thing to the next, never really dedicated myself for any length of time to one thing, always getting sidetracked and making excuses. Why now at 42 are things better? Don't we get more decrepit as we get older?

Assuming the reason had something to do with my brain more than my body, I went in search of the answer. Let's keep in mind I am not fast, and have yet to run a race, I'm just saying running is more enjoyable and easier for me now than it ever has been and I wanted to know why. I found an article on BlogHer entitled "Late Bloomer Jocks-Older Women Runners Train Hard and Run Fast". Hmmm. In it the author cites a researcher who among other things asserts "older women may be faster because, oddly enough, they are trying harder than younger women and discovering for the first time what they are capable of" and that "the experience for women as 'a kind of wakening, an epiphany'". Okay, maybe that's part of it. But I think it has more to do with what I tell myself inside. I think it has everything to do with where I am in life, yes, with maturity.

I believe our pursuits, or whatever we dedicate ourselves to as we age, whether it be running or painting or piano, writing, etc., has in part to do with the following:

giving ourselves permission
not feeling guilty, selfish or self-centered for self-discovery
grabbing fun by the hand and running with it (no pun intended)
focus
dedication
study, concentration, research
a positive attitude (I can do it!)
belief in something bigger than ourselves (get outside your head, girl!)

It's also important to note, that my twenties were full of self-sabotage.  They were Jekyl and Hyde years, while I was on the one side studying my tail off then starting a career, they were also full of partying and eating poorly. It's hard as hell to run well with a hangover and a belly full of takeout. My thirties were spent pregnant, nursing, recovering from being pregnant, and glued to three little ones so there's all of that to consider too. I suppose now it's time I do something for myself.

But more than that is the transformation of my mind.  I've drifted away from the naysayers in my life, the negative forces that consistently, repeatedly dragged me down and reminded me I was worthless and unimportant. Wrong. Invisible. At the moment I broke free and stuck up for myself if you will, things changed. I taught myself to knit. I started my own business. An Etsy shop. A blog. I dabbled in photography. Family life changed for the better. Things have incrementally improved since that day (after they first got exponentially worse).

Now the road accepts all of my days. The wind listens to my happy thoughts and dries my tears, and God is with me on the run. 

I finished those ten miles yesterday, full of brain fog and good fatigue and parked myself in front of the woodstove after.  I watched two movies and five kids.  I am fine, just like my husband said I'd be.  It was cold as hell on those back country roads and I thought I'd barf the pancakes I had for breakfast, they were a poor pre-run choice.  Note to self.  I ran with my friends, my crew, Clair, Larry and my 20 year PT bestie, Mimi.  Without them it wouldn't have been the same, I might even have given up.  It's the support from those who love you that make anything possible. I wish I knew that in my twenties.  I'm glad I know it now.

Run rain run

 

Yesterday I ran in the rain and now my husband and both of the kids' bus drivers think I'm crazy.  The one with the crochety voice, snarled lips, lap blankets and who puts the heat on when it's 70 degrees out especially.  I've run in the rain before, my husband even ran in the rain that morning, but somehow when I do it it's weird and to that I say, poo.

 

My little blue jacket was a wise investment and kept me perfectly dry underneath, 'cept for the sweat.  My hands and feet were soggy but once I got going the water was no problem, I was focused, stopwatch in hand, repeats the goal. 

 

I have a stack of new books thanks to friends and I'm hopping from one to the next, feeling incrementally inspired as I go.  I also have a plan and in the wise words of my friend, Larry, "plan your run and run your plan".  Larry, I'm trying.

 

What's a little weather when you read a book about a guy who has run through every kind of storm, or when you read about your friend's adventure race in Borneo where she wound up with staph infections, 400 leech bites and lung flukes afterward and shrugged it off like the rest of us would a bad haircut?  I've started Chi Running and am thumbing through Run Less Run Faster on loan from Clair as well as The Runner's Diet so I can learn what I'm doing wrong there, I'm sure there's plenty.  And then there's a little book about healing, for the inner me, something I can only take in small doses but it's time and it's a good accompaniment to my daily meditation.

 

Whatever comes of all of the reading/running/biking the silver lining is this:  I am fully distracted and not perseverating on how much I dislike winter.  I dare to say I am finding just as much opportunity in winter as summer and if the weather gets a little hairy there's always the treadmill. As I write this I also see I'm not alone in my pursuit of wetness and fitness, that Clair also plans a full on dreary, rainy, winter run today and to that I say, it sure is good to have crazy friends.

 

 

What makes it better

Sometimes two really is better than one.

Two families blended means kids can entertain themselves for hours and days on end,

especially if you let them make their own "fishing rods" from recently cut bamboo, twine, strange metal antennae and randomly found curtain rods. (oh my)

Surfboards from 1965 are timeless,


and in constant motion, better when used by two.


Two rods, twice the fish,


and rolling out onto the dock in pajamas before breakfast, well, it's certainly a luxury.

But none of it would happen without the generosity of friends, and the ability to slip into step beside one another, working together to make life just a little bit (or maybe alot) more interesting.

Making time

It's a good thing (for me) my friends are understanding, forgiving and make the same kind of mistakes I do, so when I totally flake out and miss a get together (in part due to the fact that our phone wasn't working for three days and it took me all three to figure it out) they simply reschedule and don't think twice about it.

We are busy. I know I'm not alone. We hurry. I know I'm not alone. We rush and corral kids and get impatient and think it's all so important. I know I'm not alone.

But on days like these, when it's rainy, cold, and snow is still everywhere, I know that sitting in my little studio with a friend, sharing tea, the woodstove and catching up from where we last left off is really the only very important thing on my very long list.

And this one happens to bring goodies. Every. Single. Time.

Kindergarten

When the first day somehow feels like the last day too,

when leaving home and starting a new phase brings trepidation and worry,

it means everything to have a big brother and sister to lead you.

So today I spent some time looking to my own "big sisters" if you will, let's just call them girlfriends, to guide me along a new path that now looks as wide open as when I first stopped working to stay home and raise children.

I tried for a minute or two to shove myself back into the physical therapy box, thinking that I would just let it take over and let all my other pursuits fall to the wayside, that I needed to see myself as just one thing, a producer, a financial contributor, an outside-the-house-working-mom. And while that may be part of what I am or what I do, it is just one part and to let the others fade just doesn't feel right.

I'm left once again feeling my way through the future and looking all around for guidance, finding it in the openness and enthusiasm of my children, the welcoming arms of new friends, the silent urging that comes from within, and a heart that knows much more than I about which way to go.

True

Two of my three children were in tears for a good part of our ride back home yesterday after visiting a friend at the river and the littlest was quickly asleep. If you live in Virginia you know that "the river" is a generic, catchall term such as Kleenex or Google for any of the probably hundreds of creeks and rivers that empty into the Chesapeake Bay. If you're close enough to the bay the rivers are tidal and brackish and the whole environment changes with the added salt. The buildings are weathered and fishing boats become easily rusted, many of the people follow suit (the term "old salt" conjures a whole new image), the jelly fish are abundant in parts this time of the summer as are the blue crabs. Oysters are everywhere and herons and egrets and if you're lucky you'll see a bald eagle or two.

But let's get back to the tears. Lauren started the ball rolling early on, weepy and tearful over the 4 large black dogs we'd left behind and one in particular that she's fallen deeply in love with. John felt her emotion I think and his tears were for the love of all that we'd left behind. Not just the pets but also the crabs, the water, the boat rides and tubing and especially someone who's becoming a very close friend. He said more than once that he'd like to move.

As a mother I consider myself lucky when we find nice children from nice families to be friends with. I consider it an added bonus if I become friends with their mother and even more rare and special if all four parents become friends. But for my kids to love the children of one of my oldest, closest and dearest friends I feel more than fortunate, I wish there was a word for it. The fact that they were instant buddies when they first met after the baby stage shouldn't have surprised me, after all, that's how their mothers started out.

But these visits seem all the more sweet since they are so infrequent and brief, packed with play and intimate chats, and we wish that they didn't have to be this way. There comes a point though when the optimist in me is merely thankful for what she can get.

And when the sun sets on each visit I'm left to wonder if it's prettier at the river, or here at home, but then the optimist takes over and I'm thankful for each one that I'm alotted, no matter where I am when I view it.

A timely reminder

There are times when our days are clear and sunny, we know which way to go, our direction is clear and there is nothing impeding our forward motion. Life is good and prosperity follows.

Then other days seem just the opposite. We become engulfed in our surroundings, our situation, our troubles and can't see past them. We lack perspective or wisdom or a light at the end of the tunnel. We think life may not be so good after all and we are humbled by this notion, sometimes even scared and uncertain, fearful of what we may have to endure.

But even in the muck we remember from past experience that although the outside covering may be bumpy, hard, dirty, gross and ugly, there just might be something special lurking inside if we could just uncover it.

And maybe what we need to do more often is daydream, become lost in a good world for a while, ignoring or giving no weight to the heaviness that surrounds us. There is no place for ugliness in a world of dreams, and there is always the hope that we may catch something really big if we try but more importantly if we just believe.

Still there is something to be said for hard work and determination, knowing that our shovels may just unearth pure gold.

And if we try hard enough, stick around 'till the very end and have the patience to let others flit on by, we may get the chance to wear the really big gloves and have the fun all to ourselves.

I was reminded of all these things and more during the recent visit of my very dear friend, this one is dedicated to her.

Piecing it all together

...new necklace in the shop today!... bigger pendant this time.

I've been gone and without time to post. I'm still trying to assimilate all the pictures and my thoughts. Seeing a best friend just a couple of times a year is a wonderful but difficult thing. Our times together are so brief yet jammed with as much depth and late night talks as we can possibly muster and I hate to see her go. I'm trying as always to get her to move back to Virginia. One of these years it just may work.

Old friends, new friends

If you told me 16 years ago that my best friend in graduate school and I would still be best friends and hanging out with our 5 children at her parents house at the river 16 years later, I don't think I could have pictured it. If you told me that my son and her two boys would be instantly like brothers, I would have been amazed, but that's just what has happened.

We went to see her and her boys, and her sister-in-law and her two boys as well. So there were 3 moms and 7 kids, all swimming, jumping, catching crabs, wave-runnering, boating, throwing tennis balls for the 4 large dogs (that was Lauren's calling), and just having an all-around great time. Rough, I know, but it was good to get me out of my work mode and have real fun with the kids. The water toys are nice, but they would have been just as happy with only water, chicken necks, a net, crabs, tennis balls, dogs, sand, buckets and friends. Very simple.

It's like magic when time with friends is so easy, free and honest. It's so hard to find, and takes nurturing to keep. And that's just what I intend to do.

Whirlwind

My friend came for her two day visit with her two boys and although we didn't plan a whole lot, somehow it feels like we packed a weeks worth of activity into that short amount of time. Kids are dropping like flies around here, my eyes are more bloodshot than they've been in I don't know how long and our appetites seem to have doubled.

I'm too tired to recount the whole visit and that's probably a good thing, because words can't do justice to what it felt like to have one of my dearest friends in town. I am happy, I'm sad, my heart goes with her on her difficult journey ahead, and I pray for her. I pray for the boys. I look to the summer when we'll meet up again, when John will jump right back in to the pack they make, and the girls will run giggling after.

Today I have no pictures for you, for those I'll send you over to a new blog/etsy friend who was nice enough to include me in some of their picks for today.