Lent... and letting go.

Today is Ash Wednesday.  I grew up in a Catholic family and observed the Lenten season for many years. It has been awhile since I've considered myself a Catholic, but only a few years since I have stopped acknowledging the "rules" of Lent (i.e. many years of Friday tuna fish lunches, etc!).  However, today I  completely forgot it was Ash Wednesday until about an hour ago - after eating a leftover enchilada (with ground turkey).  Sigh. Ah well, pretty sure God will forgive the turkey.

But I digress.

I have been thinking about Lent more this year than I have in awhile.  Maybe it's just where I am at right now, but I know I *need* something and it must come from God. Despite knowing that, I have been struggling to get close to Him, finding excuses to make everything else the priority. As anyone could guess, that has simply caused a vicious cycle and left me feeling... just off.

So.

What better time than Lent than to take steps toward God? To stop being so off and find a way back on again.

Usually during Lent, people give up luxuries, things like sweets or social media. Some form of penitence (I've given up pop and chocolate too many times to count!). This year, I'm working on giving up control. I spoke a little about control here, and although I do want to avoid micromanaging my family, what I am speaking about now is more about more generally giving up control to God. Trying less to get my ducks in a row (or a tight military formation!) and more about trusting. Not hoarding my fears and worries, but giving them up to the only One who can really do anything about them. 

It's about giving up the ugliness inside, letting it out; instead of trying to bury it and hide it and keep it for my own. It's about not having it all together - not pretending to have it all together - and not needing to have it all together. And appreciating the many blessings I have, whether I have it all together or not!

I'm still brainstorming what this might mean for the next 40(ish) days. I expect journaling, self reflection (perhaps some here, plenty privately).  I have a few books I want to read.  And prayer.

[Side bar:  Here's a confession - I find praying really hard. I get distracted. It's always been difficult for me to imagine this direct line with God in a way that makes prayer a natural conversation. One way I want to tackle this is to commit to at least one unplugged run a week - no music, no audio book. Just my thoughts or lack thereof. I am fairly confident that I will start talking to myself, which seems a good lead in to prayer. :) End side bar]

Since February is already half over and I never actually sat down and gave myself some goals, I'm not going to. I'm going to work on this. I'm going to work on letting go...

Struggling

Although I made a number of goals for January, my overarching goal has remained my personal challenge to myself to get up when I need to get up. By that I mean, to make a decision re time the night before, set the alarm, and get up when it goes off.

So far, I suck at this.

Most days, I have woken up in enough time to still get my 5 minutes of free writing in and my run (if planned). BUT not once have I actually gotten my butt out of bed when my alarm actually goes off.  And even on the days I get up shortly thereafter, I have still be struggling!  Today was a prime example.

I really want to start getting up at 5 a.m. regularly. That gives me a solid chunk of time in the morning to get my exercise in, writing, praying, etc. These are things that simply don't get done (or not consistently) unless I make them a priority fist thing.  I know that it will be easier if it's the same time every day (i.e. not only run days, etc).

There is a glaring flaw in this plan. Five a.m. comes at 5 a.m. every day. And that's e.a.r.l.y. people. Five a.m. feels particularly early when you don't plan ahead and get to bed early enough the night before. Vicious cycle.

Anyhoo, alarm went off today at 5:05 or thereabouts. I snoozed and eventually turned it off. I laid there in the dark a few minutes more, holding my phone and even wearing my glasses (to encourage me not to drift back off), dreading getting out of bed. I finally do, and shuffle to the bathroom.  5:23. Bah.  Oh well, plenty of time.  I s.l.o.w.l.y. get dressed, put my contacts in, etc. I check my email on my phone, read a Facebook message. Anything to avoid going out in the cold.

5:44. I finally drag myself out of the bathroom and sit down for my 5 min free writing. It's kind of depressing. Just not feeling it this morning. 5:53 I finally lace up, grab Perry's leash and head out into the cold. He's thrilled, I'm not. I forgot to put on my Yaktrax and the road is slick. I'm immediately slipping and sliding. Half mile in, I'm done. Nothing hurts, I'm not sucking wind. I just do not want to be out there. I'm cold, cranky and DONE.  So then... I quit. I actually just went home, peeled off the running layers and got back into bed.  Blech.

I'm not proud of this - just keeping it real. I'm frustrated with myself. I have some big desires for this year, things I want to work for, yet I'm not yet willing to put the time in to get there.  I know what some will say, but I don't think I'm pushing too hard.I don't need a break (I've had one). I'm not putting too much on my plate. Frankly, it's a lack of discipline and simply being "out of practice."  I can't expect to spend 2 months basically getting up at the latest moment and then BAM be able to turn it all around overnight.  So, I'm working on giving myself some grace, but not giving up on my goal...

I will tell you what I AM proud of though.  Despite my rough morning, I did get my run in over lunch!  I did about 4.5 miles, making the day an even 5 (I get credit for that cold 1/2 mile this morning!).  I wore my Altras for the first time since my rotten New Years Eve run. I am still not fully transitioned and I still had some tingling and numbness after 2 miles. Ideally I would have taken them off and finished the run in other shoes (not practical at work). Instead, I took time to stretch out my calves and to walk it off. Aside from the tingling feet, I felt good and strong. Not particularly fast (not that the icy sidewalks would permit it) but I wasn't huffing and puffing. I'm getting there. I'm remembering WHY I want to get up at 5 a.m., why I would even consider another marathon, why I'm doing this.

[post-run]

Because, at the end of the day, I love the run.

[Image Source]

Delighted Disbelief

I wrote briefly about how the judiciary in Colombia has been on strike. So, although we were ecstatic to receive our USCIS approval last week, we were still very skeptical (but hopeful!) about traveling this year. On Friday evening, we received an email from our agency, describing how the strike had not been resolved like everyone had hoped and is in decidedly full swing. Families were warned to travel at their own risk - no guarantees that the courts would process any cases.  

We were heartbroken. 

We knew we did not have the wiggle room with either our family or professional lives to handle an indefinite stay in Colombia. With our processing falling so close to the end of the year, our window of opportunity was nearly closed.  I did my best to put this from my mind and focus on my race, but it was difficult. In truth, I spent part of the weekend simply accepting that JS would not be with us for Christmas after all.  Ugh.

I finally summoned up the courage to email our agency on Monday, asking what our "drop dead date" was to receive good news this year.  To my surprise, the below email followed later that day:

Strike is over in Putamayo!!!!!  I just heard and I’ll get you the details soon.  [The lawyer] is connecting with the Embassy now to see if the Article 5 is ready, so travel is back on for your family!   YAY!!!!

[Putumayo is the region in which JS lives and where his case will be processed]

Isn't that incredible! We went from no-go to go-now in just days!  Although we don't have a final, official go-ahead yet, we are being told to leave Nov 8 or 9.  TWO WEEKS?! Happy birthday to ME!  Wahooooooo!

JS is coming home!

[We can't share photos of him publicly until the courts have approved the adoption, 

but here is a sneak peak at his smiling eyes!  :) ]

Race Pace, Goals and Good Times

There is this beautiful natural rule of running. Anytime you race a new distance, you automatically set a PR!  (personal record).  By this logic, my goal for my first marathon should merely be to finish (more or less) with a smile on my face. :)

Buuuuuutttttt from the get-go I had a bigger goal in mind.  Since July, I have been training to complete this race at an average 10:30 min/mile pace.  This was a fairly ambitious goal since I completed the 25k Riverbank Run averaging 11 min/mile. But my early training went well and I was hitting my training paces pretty well.

[image source]

The wheels kind of came off when I broke my toe on Labor Day. Physically, hitting those same paces felt much tougher. More importantly, my mental toughness completely broke down and I had real doubts about being able to complete all 26.2 miles, never mind a faster pace!

Anyhoo, with the race only days (!) away, I'm back to square one with a "game plan."  There is a pace group to finish in 4hrs, 40 min (10:41 min/mile pace). I am so very tempted to latch onto this group.In theory, I have done the work to handle that pace.

But.

26+ miles? 

Dude, that's far.  Far to run 10:40 min/miles (for me - I know it's like a slow beachy-jog for some!)  What if I hope on and hang in there great for 15 miles? And then fall apart? 11 miles is still a looong way to slog along. 

I had a really good experience with a pace group for the Riverbank Run. I truly believe I would have wimped out much more without a group to keep up with. Yet, I also learned that it is REALLY hard to keep a consistent pace throughout. To even qualify as a pacer, you have to be able to run that distance MUCH faster so that you can easily hold yourself back to maintain the right pace. 

Pace group could be motivating and uplifting, giving me a chance to meet some runners around me... 

Or it could make this (almost) once-in-a-lifetime-experience unbearable. Bah.  Would I rather cruise along (somewhat) comfortably, maybe taking some photos and soaking up the experience?  That does sound more appealing.  Does finishing in 5+ hours sound appealing?  Not really. :( I feel like I worked too hard to sell myself short. 

So, the jury's still out. I think I'm going to wait and see what I feel like Sunday morning. I'm going to line up near that pace group, at minimum making sure to stay behind them so as not to start out too fast. I could easily do mile 1 in 9:15 and be hurting by mile 5 otherwise!   And we'll go from there.  

I'm determined to be proud of my time Whatever it is. It's a freaking marathon.  So that counts for something, right?  :)

Potential Delays and a Cranky-Pants (Overwhelmed Pt 2)

[See Overwhelmed pt 1 here]

(2) Judicial Strike and Unknown Implications.  Over the weekend we read a news story about a judicial strike in Colombia.  Essentially, judges and workers are on strike, holding out for better wages and a bigger budget for the branch. No one knows much about what the implications are. Yesterday was a holiday in Colombia. Hoping our agency hears more today. If the courts are not operating, they will obviously not be processing adoption paperwork. Which, I can only assume, means that we may not be able to travel to Colombia until it is all sorted out.  While I am extremely thankful that this did not occur while we were in Colombia, I am worried. I assume any length of time would back-up the court systems, which throws our already precarious travel plans back... 

On one hand, we heard there are still some courts operating today.  We don't know which/how many, or for how long. This article indicates that 90% of all cases have ground to a halt. I suppose 10% better than 0.

On the other hand, we also heard that the last similar strike was in 2008 and lasted 44 days. Boo.

I'm doing my best not to get ahead of myself. Nothing is ever guaranteed in international adoption. We know this.  Yet, I had gotten my heart set on having JS home for Christmas. It's a lot to take in. Also, there are other families currently in Colombia, in the middle of their court process who are now stuck. Please keep them and their families in your prayers. Families were also stranded back in 2008.

Perhaps the most surprising thing about all this is the fact that I am surprised. We encountered some fairly major, unusual and unexpected delays in both our previous adoptions.  For example, we were told that we were the "worst case scenario" example after our delays for Abi and Hana. Then our delays for Selam were over twice as long. Seriously.   One major upside for us in choosing Colombia this time was the relative stability of the program. Except that life goes on ticking for everyone whether we are adopting or not. And that means things can go wrong. For us. Every time. UGH.

[As another side note, I do understand there may be valid reasons for the strike and that this may be completely justified. I have no idea. This post is solely devoted to MY selfish disappointment with the potential delay. It's my blog and I'll whine if I want to.  *End disclaimer*]

Lack of Focus and Zac Efron (Overwhelmed Pt 1)

Overwhelmed

Word of the day. Week. Maybe even month!

I've had all this random stuff going on, all these things I want to blog about - or even to just stop and *think* about - and yet there just seems to be too much!

There's this little thing. This marathon. In 5 days.  And I'm kind of freaking out.

And there's some not-so-little things.  Adoption timeline ticking. Judicial unrest in Colombia. At-home crazies.  Things that are much, much bigger than a stupid race.

So, of course, I spend half the night last night worried about my race outfit. Priorities.

Not-that-I-use-petty-things-to-distract-me-from-stressful-situations.  Not me. 

ha.

Maybe I should just take a deep breath and try a little "Three Things Thursday" ... on Tuesday.  'Cuz, ya know, I'm overwhelmed and can't wait until Thursday.  ;)  So, here's three really long ramble-y things!

{Edited to add that I rambled SO much, I had to make it separate posts!}

(1) My grand plan - backfired.  Originally, I signed up for this marathon in part to distract me from this last tough part of the adoption waiting game.  I have always really sucked at maintaining dignity patience and thought that having this other goal to focus on would be helpful.  And, I admit, I hoped in the back of my mind that we would be in Colombia and I wouldn't even get to run it. I mean, isn't that how you tempt the universe? Sign up and pay for something so mountains are moved and you can't do it after all?  ;)  

Well, it mostly worked!  I have been pretty running focused for months (obviously this is well known if you actually do READ this blog anymore...).  I've been able to distract myself somewhat from diligently religiously manically tracking the dates of all our various adoption milestones and focused more on a running countdown to race day.

Until we finally got our referral. And a lot of stuff started happening quickly. Then I had to shift gears and put the race/running on the back burner. Which is great.  

Except it's made me kind of a mental mess.  I'm not in Colombia as I"d hoped. I'm running on Sunday. And I've got to get my head in the game (cue Zac Efron...).

I'm Baaaaack!

After slowly easy back into running on Wednesday and Thursday (1 and 1.5 miles, respectively), I took on my planned 4 miler on Friday. It felt good overall, although slow.  I was psyched to do my long run as planned - my first 20 miler - on Saturday.  I wanted to catch my daughter's cross country meet, so I set my alarm for 4:30 a.m. (not kidding, on a weekend!), laid out my clothes, fuel and gear, re-taped my toes, and hit the hay at a quasi-reasonable hour.

I woke up Saturday feeling less than enthused, but at least didn't sleep through my alarm (although I did snooze it...). Quickly ate some breakfast, got dressed and was out the door by 5:30. I usually run the first few miles in my neighborhood (since it is so dark) so I set off.

Everything felt wrong. My gait felt stiff and "off".  My toes weren't in a great deal of pain, but I couldn't seem to correct my stride. By the second mile, the bottom of my foot was hurting.  As I neared my house, finishing mile 3, I just fell apart. My foot hurt and, more importantly, my "mental game" was just shot. I had just finished 3 really slow miles and the idea of finishing 17 more was such a joke. 

I went inside, holding back tears, and showered. By this point, I was in a terrible mood. I snapped at S while dropping her off at school for her meet, picked a fight with my husband and just was generally nasty. I went back to bed for a few hours, but it didn't help much. I set off for the CC meet, still in a terrible mood.

Somehow, over the next hour or so, I managed to pull myself back together. I started to guess that the pain in my foot may have been the result of my tape-job, not my injured toe itself. We got back from the meet early afternoon and I was resolved to try again. Fortunately, my husband realized how important this was to me, and didn't blink and eye about me taking off for the rest of the day. So I changed, re-taped the toe (minimal tape = less change in gait) and set off.

I started around my neighborhood. If I was still having pain, I didn't want to get too far from home. But it became clear that I could do it (although would be slower than normal).  So I set out. Most of the run felt great. It was a beautiful sunny day, but cooler than its been. Fall in the air. I had chosen a new route, which kept things interesting (although the rolling hills were not so fun on the return trip!). All was well until about mile 17 when my body started really complaining. Not just my toes, but everything! I was T.I.R.E.D.  I started walking for a minute or so at the end of the last few miles.  As I neared home, I pushed it as hard as I could, just wanting to be DONE.

I can't explain the feeling when I saw my watch click over to "20".  Even though I hurt all over and was walking a bit funny, I just felt so proud, so strong. I mean honestly, who runes twenty miles?  That's crazy.

Aaaaaand, I'm back.

Ouch

I am so tempted to include a photo with this post.  But since I think my feet are pretty icky on a good day, adding in the black/blue/purple nature is just not something I am willing to tie to my name on the internet. 

Oh, and why is my foot black/blue/purple?

Because I'm a clumsy fool.  Sigh.

On Monday morning, I set my alarm early for an 8-10 miler. I apparently shut it off. :( I still got up at a decent time... but made my kids waffles instead. No matter. Throw in a load of laundry, sort some clothes with Ally and I'd be off and running (even if it was hot as heck).  Head down to the laundry (in the basement) and

WHAM.

Oh no.

I seriously fell down it hurt so stinking badly. Somehow, I managed to trip on this folded table thing and slam my 3rd and 4th toes right into it (mostly the 4th). It was pretty sore, but not too bad.  I thought I would try and run anyway. Got changed, Abi decided to go with me so we set off.  I didn't make it more than a couple of steps. :(

By this point, I am starting to freak out and exaggerate. What if its broken? Does that mean I can't run? How long? Do I just run anyway? CAN I just run anyway? (seriously hurt and made me feel like a whiner!)

By the end of the day, I can barely walk and the bruise has spread down the toes to the base of my foot. Ugh.

I ended up picking up some athletic tape and taped my mid-3 toes together. This has helped quite a bit and I can now walk normally. I am hoping to take a few days off running (well, technically down 2 already!) and maybe try my stationary bike? I am nervous about taking more than a week. This month is prime training time and I just don't have the wiggle room in my schedule.  The marathon is only about 6 weeks away.  Yikes.  Yet, I know making it worse is not going to help me in the long run.

Going to take it a day at a time and try not to be super frustrated with myself (and super cranky to others...).  No easy task. :)

Not Going to Watch from the Sidelines

As I was typing up this post, recapping the weekend, it hit me how much things have changed in the last year and a half...

Just this last weekend alone, I ran, took a strength class, played basketball with the kids, and kayaked.  It was so fun. Aside from being sore from that Body Pump class (seriously painful!) I wasn't terribly exhausted or hurting from any of it.

Two years ago, this wouldn't have been possible. Two years ago I would have simply sat on the sidelines, watching my kids have fun together,without me. Two years ago, date night would not have involved an evening on the lake.  Two years ago, the weekend would have been spent WATCHING my life, not living it.

Two years ago, I was out-of-shape and fat.  

Fat. FAT.

That's a buzz word. It's a word that makes people cringe and look away, embarrassed. It's a word that can inflame and embarrass.  It's a word our society has come to avoid at all costs. 

But I think there is danger is simply avoiding the word. FAT. I did for a long time, and it allowed me to just avoid my problems.

Fat isn't a number on a scale. It isn't a size of clothing. It isn't even a comparison to a model or your best friend.

For me, FAT was simply not living my best life. 

I wasn't happy. I wasn't comfortable.  I wasn't me.

In February 2011, I made a choice. And I started eating less crap. It was as simple as that. I did not make perfect choices every day. In fact, I wasn't perfect MOST days. But it was a start.  A few weeks later, I took  my first step out the door (literally) and went for my first run. "Run" might be an over-statement. I went for my first huffing-and-puffing around the block mess.  I could barely make it a minute. I only ran in the dark when I was not likely to be seen. But I ran.  And again the next day. And the next week.

And, I got my life back.  

The weight didn't fall off.  But it started slowly dropping.  And I - finally - felt some sense of control. Like waking up from a bad dream. It's still a struggle.  In the last 15 or so months, I have lost about 55 lbs.  In theory, I'd like to lose another 10-15, although I'm not really actively trying to do so.  I still battle many old demons, including emotional and mindless eating. I suspect I will battle with these bad habits my entire life to some degree. But giving in is no longer an option.

I refuse to go back. I refuse to sit on the sideline.  It's my life and I'm here to play.

Three Things Thursday - Race Edition

With the Riverbank Run 25k looming over me coming up this weekend, I thought it only fitting to devote my "three things" to the race! :)

(1) I shared a bit about my last long run here.  What I didn't mention is that was my last run, period.  That means, I went about 10 days with no running at all. Initially, while S was in the hospital, it wasn't practical.  Then, I was just ... exhausted. Even the thought of walking my dogs was painful.  Fitting in a 3 mile run was just out of the question.  I still regret this a bit because I think it would have helped me deal with stress.  But, in any event, I didn't run. As this week started and the race inched closer, my doubts began creeping up significantly.  I had this mental block and did not want to run.  I don't know if it had anything to do with the fact I was out running when S was taken to the hospital (?) or just the random fears that creep in any time I go for a period of time without a regular run. But it was weighing on me. Last night Mark really pushed me to go - he knew that I was afraid and if I didn't go running last night, I might not be able to do the race mentally.

(2) So, last night I ran 6.5 miles.  That's a rather long mid-week run for me, but I knew I needed more than my typical 3-4 miles.  Honestly, overall, the run was pretty bad. : /  My pace was slow, my body felt plodding.  I didn't eat a real dinner but I had grabbed a bite here and there and the food was not sitting well at all. :( Everything was irritating me. I had forgotten to take my necklace and earrings off and I hate when they bounce around. So I stopped and took those off. I took my handheld water bottle but wish I hadn't. Annoying. But, after all that, I finished.  And I felt better the last mile and a half than I had the rest of the entire run. That left me feeling less freaked hopeful about running 9 more on Saturday... 

(3) Race Goals - Back in January, I developed a pretty ambitious training plan. I followed it for several weeks.  My initial goal was to run the 25k in under 2 hrs 45 min, which averages to a 10:37 pace.  That's a little fast for my long runs, but seemed like a conservative goal.

Once we started working toward our adoption in February, I grew much more lax with the plan.  Yet, I did a fairly good job about keeping up my long runs, so I was feeling okay. I abandoned all speed work and just focused on getting 2-3 weekly runs in (about 9-10 miles) and one long run on the weekend. Unfortunately, that morphed into 1 long run every OTHER weekend. But ah well.  But my initial goal seemed a bit lofty, especially since I was still walking on many of my long runs.  So I set a new goal of averaging sub 11 min/miles, which would be right around 2 hrs 50 min.  I wasn't too far off this mark when I did 15.5 a few weeks ago.  

However, given the last couple of weeks, I'm tempted to revise my goals again. I want to finish the race. I want to enjoy it. I want to NOT fall apart.  I wish I was comfortable being more ambitious than that, but right now, I have to work with what I've got.  I guess those would be my "a" "b" and "c" goals, with me trying to accept that "c" is the most realistic. I don't want to be disappointed.  Given that I nearly threw in the towel completely yesterday, I simply want to be proud of myself for running the distance, period. Feels a little wimpy to say that, but I know I need to be realistic and find a way to fully enjoy the experience.

In any event, I WILL be crossing that finish line in just over 48 hours.  And someone will place this medal around my neck.  :) And, for now, that's enough for me.

Moving Past Fear to Productivity!

"Faith means living with uncertainty - feeling your way through life, 

letting your heart guide you like a lantern in the dark."

~Dan Millman~

When I started blogging, the only purpose was to keep people up to date on our first adoption.  That was nearly all I talked about.  Even when we were in process with Selam, we kept fairly regular updates.  Yet, I haven't said much about JS's adoption here...

The truth is we discovered a procedural issue that we feared would possibly prevent us from moving forward and it took over 3 weeks to resolve. It isn't terribly important what the issue was, but at the time we were concerned.  (And 3 weeks is an ETERNITY when you are waiting for something like this!)  

Mark and I both found ourselves stepping back.  I think this was a subconscious decision to protect our hearts - if this adoption was not going to work, we did not want to invest our hearts into it.  Yet, we continued to plug along with our training requirements and piles of paperwork. Do you have any idea how tedious adoption paperwork is when you are protecting your heart?!  Um, yeah.  : / 

Long story short, the issue appears resolved and we are back on track!  We got this news late last week, right around the time we found out our homestudy and psychological reports were done. BAM. Things are moving again! As a result, Mark and I spent hours last night, organizing paperwork and finishing up some last minute letters and documents. And, because I am anal about adoption paperwork, it all ended up in various colored and labeled folders. :) Some people might find this funny since I am so messy and disorganized with much of my life.  But adoption paperwork is different. :)

So, for those interested in a quick update, we will be picking up our completed and notarized homestudy update this afternoon, which means we can (finally) fire off our I-800A immigration application tomorrow!  Our entire dossier is pretty much completed, minus I800A approval.  This is pretty significant actually because our agency is going to allow us to get a head start on translation to keep our process moving along quickly.  

As a side note, we were required to get clearance from the FBI that we aren't crazy criminals. Usually this approval takes 8-9 weeks, but we received it in less than a month.  just another sign that things are falling into place again. :)

Just another cycle of hurry up and wait. :) Next couple of days will be a little hectic, getting documents where they need to be and hopefully getting our dossier approved so it can be apostled. But then will be another cycle of "wait".  Such is adoption.  But we are pleased that we are finally m.o.v.i.n.g. again.

Sounds of Sunday

Lately, I have been struggling with the darker sides of adoption. The trauma, the loss, the many opportunities for ethical failings... It's a tough topic and there are no clear answers.  The more I educate myself, the more confused I become.

I look at my beautiful family and it is difficult to reconcile that joy with the underlying sadness that accompanies any adoption.

Anyway, these are things that have been swirling through my mind more and more as we move through paperwork for JS.  I have been silently praying, seeking a sign of comfort.  I received that glimmer at church this morning during worship.  The band sang "Mighty to Save" (see below). I can't quite put my finger on it, but the music, the lyrics... I just felt some of that sadness and worry lift from my heart.  I don't have all the answers.  The tough stuff is still there. But He is might to save.

Saviour, He can move the mountains,

My God is mighty to save,

He is mighty to save

Forever, author of salvation,

He rose and conquered the grave

Jesus conquered the grave

So take me as you find me

All my fears and failures

Fill my life again

I give my life to follow

Everything that i believe in

Now i surrender (and i surrender)

Never, Ever Give Up

"Winning is not about headlines and hardware [medals]. It's only about attitude. A winner is a person who goes out today and every day and attempts to be the best runner and best person he can be.  Winning is about struggle and effort and optimism, and never, ever, ever giving up." 

~Amby Burfoot, Editor-at-Large, Runner's World~

I receive daily quotes via email from Runner's World. Many I skim and delete, but on occasion, one will jump out at me and stick with me. This is one of those quotes. Interestingly, it does not seem to be haunting me as it relates to running, but as to parenting.  

As parents, we all have those days where we doubt ourselves and our abilities as parents.  Yesterday was one of those days.  No need to go into details, but it was just one of those disappointing and frustrating days with some of my kids. Some stuff was little, other stuff was bigger, but at the end of the day I was just feeling emotionally spent and inadequate. As a result, I had little grace left for my husband and we went to bed angry as well. 

I woke up this morning feeling a little leftover sadness, but mostly irritation at myself, thinking about things I could have done differently, wondering if it might have changed the outcome of the evening. But I got up, received a sweet hug from Mark and started feeling better.  I opened this email and read this quote and found my eyes just eating up the words, revising them in my mind:

Parenting is not about awards. It's only about attitude. A good parent is a person who goes out today and every day and attempts to be the best parent and best person he can be.  Winning is about struggle and effort and optimism, and never, ever, ever giving up.

 I'm certainly not a perfect person and hardly a model parent. Some days - like yesterday - I go to bed just feeling like I've blown it, like my kid are going to blame me to their therapists. And there is that tiny fear that certain kids might just be boneheads indefinitely. ;)  But being a good parent is a struggle (sometimes more than others) and requires effort and optimism.  And never, ever, ever giving up. On my kids, or on myself. 

So I walked upstairs to wake my little troublemakers up for the day. And one of them snuggled up against me, threw an arm around my neck and whispered, "I love you mom."  

And I knew it would be okay. Somehow, we'd be okay.

No Excuses

Competitive, yes. Talented, no. 

That pretty much sums up my athletic ability since I was a child.  I wasn’t involved in many sports, but those I did play, I played fiercely.  And was mediocre.  So I pursued things I was good at – namely academics and school leadership activities.

I was never very comfortable with my body, always seeing its flaws and weaknesses. Sad, but typical, I suppose, for many girls and women (and probably men too).  Yet, I was usually up for trying new things.  I played powderpuff football and “speedball” all 4 years of high school during spirit week.  I played on a dodgeball league in law school (which was uber fun). I went through periods of working out habitually, followed by much longer periods of no regular physical activity to speak of. 

I was not a runner.  Never that. 

Life happened.  Work.  Kids. Loss of work.  More work. More kids. 

Time.  Never, ever enough time. 

A million excuses. A fair amount of self-disgust.  Things that used to be easy, were difficult.  Playing with the kids was a chore. Always tired…

Until, one day, it was finally enough.

I threw on layers and sweats, gloves and a hat and headed out into the February night.  Yes night.  Darkness covered my shame.  And it began.  One minute of running and then two.  Lots of walking.  But then less, and less.  Forced myself to push through.  It was usually terrible.  Slow and plodding. Certainly not enjoyable. 

Until it was over.  That feeling, that after-run feeling.  Even in those early days, I couldn’t deny its power.  The satisfaction.  The pride.

I signed up for a 5k in early May with a friend.  She really kept me motivated.  I think I may have given up along the way if not for her.  Not because she would send me flowery inspirational messages or because she employed tough love.  Early on, the main source of motivation was simply my stubborn competitiveness.  I knew I would feel like a failure if she kept running and I didn’t! 

We ran the 5k together.  I felt awful and let my friend go on ahead (she did awesome!).  I finished it, but felt so awful.  I thought I was going to be sick across the finish line.  (I wasn’t – phew). 

But that feeling was there.   The pride.  Accomplishment? 

So I didn’t quit.

This past weekend, I crossed off a bucket list item. I ran a half marathon.  It wasn’t particularly pretty, but I finished.  And that was my main goal.

I don’t say this to brag.  (Well, maybe just a little).

I say this because this was something I never thought I would do – not something I would want to do or could do.

Once I realized I could, I couldn’t help but want to.

It’s been about 8 months since I started running.  I’ve lost nearly 40 lbs.  And found myself. 

It’s still not easy. But I’m done with excuses.

Reflections ...

"Any change, even a change for the better, is always accompanied by drawbacks and discomforts."

~Arnold Bennett~

**Note - this photo has nothing to do with the post, I just liked it and blogs should have photos.**

I think most people *know* that life can change in a moment.  Most humans have at least a basic grasp on temporary vs. eternal.  The only constant is change, right?

But how many of us truly acknowledge that in our daily lives? That is, until we are forced to.

Three years ago, I questioned by qualifications, my very identify as a mother, challenged as never before.

Two and a half years ago, I was forced to come to terms with the fact that I won't always be surrounded by those close to me.  It wouldn't always be illness and age that steals them away.

Two years ago, a carefully crafted career crashed down around me.  Suddenly, ever-present financial security vanished.  A new fear swept in, followed quickly by a humility I never anticipated I would need.

A year ago I received a chance that a year before I would have sworn I never wanted!  The chance to homeschool and be at home more.

And now, things are changing again.  Although my work schedule is going to return to its "traditional nature" I have this gut feeling there is more change coming.  I'm doing my best to think positively about it, to be open to the possibilities - whatever they may be.

The changes mentioned above were hard.  Some tragic, even.  And yet, all have impacted me strongly.

Obviously, I never wanted to lose my father.  I am a different person because of it, stronger in some ways. I (of course) would give it all back to have him, but I know that's not an option.  So I do the best to look at the positive outcomes - the benefits I got from him during his life and the way that I grew after his death.  To appreciate the memories my kids have of him, the stories - even though they were so little when we lost him.  I love that they still talk about Papa Joe.  His presence is still with us.  Some things survive change, stay with us and make us stronger.

When I lost my job, I lost my identify for awhile. I was scared.  And yet... I wouldn't trade that experience.  Our entire family dynamic shifted. Things we thought we were never capable of were suddenly necessary.  And we not only survived, we thrived!  It led to a new job, one that I would have considered myself "above" ... a job that has been fun and fulfilling and taught me so much!

Our homeschool journey, it seems, was brief.  And yet... my entire way of thinking about our family and about education has changed. I no longer will accept things "because that is the way it is."  I have already noticed that my advocacy skills have changed for the better.  I truly understand that learning happens all the time.  My kids may return to a classroom and be exposed to all kinds of wonderful (and some not-so-wonderful) things there, but the bulk of their learning will occur outside school walls, much in our own home.  That thought is so freeing.  

My journey as a mother is a continuing one, constantly morphing, changing.  I have never questioned myself so much as I have in these years since adding children who have suffered trauma.  Never have I felt so inadequate.  Yet, I look at the person I was before and can now see this huge hole - this whole part of me that was missing.  I can't imagine life without them.

These were not doors slammed in my face - simply directives onto a new page.

Feeling hopeful at the possibilities... 

"Flowers never emit so sweet and strong a fragrance as before a storm. When a storm approaches thee, be as fragrant as a sweet smelling flower."

-Jean Paul Richter

It's not all sunshine and rainbows.

Today was one of those days. Frustrating, but not for a quantifiable reason.  One of those days that I suffered from the creeping pressure of doubt - a fear I'm not doing enough, that I can't possibly do enough.  It's a crummy feeling. I can't help but stare longingly at a curriculum that I "decided" that I just have to have ... Although I think I truly would like it and it might be a good fit for us... I know that my longing glances have more to do with my desire for a "quick fix" than seeing a drastic benefit from taking on such an expensive curriculum.  

I suppose I'm just feeling inadequate and looking for that magic lesson plan to come in and save the day. Except that it doesn't work that way.  Because - for the most part - I have enjoyed the flexibility that we have baked into our version of school. I have enjoyed letting the girls follow their interests.  I have enjoyed that carefree feeling (most days...) where I don't have a checklist, just general goals that we work through.

And the truth is, no curriculum, no matter how highly rated, expensive or pretty, is going to teach my daughter to read English any better or faster. :(  She is so smart... yet, the language barrier is still stunting her, throwing up walls.  I know we have to fight through it - and on the good days, she knows that too. On the bad days, we talk about it, acknowledge that it sucks and it's not fair, but it is what it is.  And we will continue our exercises, continue practicing.

Again and again.

It's time to close the catalog and get to work.  Tomorrow is a new day.