Races

I ran a half- marathon last week and 7days later, I haven't exercised since. It's making me a little nuts. I used to be a bit exercise-obsessed, you see.  I purposely try to avoid being like that now. Nevertheless, an exerciser needs exercise like another person might need vitamins or lots of water or milk or whatever.  As long as I can balance in 3-4 days of sweat, I'm good. It didn't happen this week for lots of reasons. Which brings me back to the race.  Sigh.  It wasn't pretty. I really felt ready. I felt strong. BUT, it was a rough training season. My dad passed away and I skipped almost three weeks of training...it was cold and rainy most weekends...I have a new work schedule....So, I don't even know why I had such optimism.  But I did and it let me down.  I suppose I let myself down too, because I'm generally a happy runner.  As I passed mile 8 that day and the temperature creeped toward 70, I forgot that. I wasn't in the mood. Then, I lost the mood for the run.  Really, I had a good race.  I finished in just a bit over a 10-minute mile pace!  In the end, I realize that I should rejoice in clearing the finish line. I should applaud the effort, the effort it took to get me there and celebrate all those who made the journey.  How silly of me to forget all that as I completed the race that day. Today, I'm happy to have done it and am looking forward to another race.  Perhaps my goal for that one really should be simply to finish with a smile.

My Dad

I don't think I was a daddy's girl and I certainly think there are kids out there who are closer to their father than I was.  And yet....my dad was always the one that kept the calm in a houseful of headstrong, noisy girls. I think of all the drama in my teenage years and I never my remember my dad reacting to any of it. He was always there, though, with the things I needed. He made sure we were well taken care of. As an adult, I cherished the times when I would catch him on the phone when mom wasn't home. We would have quiet conversations, mostly about the weather, the Tigers or stuff going on in the great outdoors. I got that from him. And, so did my oldest son.  I think that's what made me the most sad for him after he got sick. He didn't seem to enjoy being outside as much. After the chemo, it was either too hot or too cold for him to be comfortable. It always made me feel bad. In those years of battling one kind of cancer then another, I think he resigned himself to keeping on with the disease. At times, I think of those 7 years and I am furious.  How can a disease be so random, so unforgiving, so vicious?  And then there are times, very few times, when I am bitter.  How unfair. Why him?  And what was it all for?  Most times, though, I'm thankful for the first year battle against lung cancer that extended my dad's life. I'm thankful that I was cognizant enough to appreciate that then and that I came to cherish every visit, every chat, every photo taken after that.  I'm thankful that his illness helped me recognize the power of family. I am also amazed that he had so much grace and peace all those years. He fought that battle and never really complained and never resigned from life. He participated as much as he could until the last. I am humbled and then I am sad.  My dad is gone and I miss his quiet.  I miss him just being there, and I suppose I always will. He was my dad and I was his oldest girl. Always will be.

Sleep

"Once in awhile," I'm just so tired that cold breakfast cereal really does become the perfect dinner for my kids after a long day at school. And, I suppose that "are times" when I've conducted the smell test on clothing in order to extend the days between loss of was because the laundry basket feels too heavy for these tired bones. Yes, I'm the mom whose kids ate cold green beans from the can as babies and the one who still encourages it.  Heck, one of my favorite meals in college was a can of corn. ( I usually heated it up.  most of the time.). So, am I a "normal", busy, tired, older mom?  Or can I claim at least one of those adjectives? Claim one of those as opposed to the adjective attached to one of the most feared phrases of my life?  After all, I can't I agile that I am actually lazy?! I mean, lazy doesn't come with sore muscles or feet that need a good rub down. Does a lazy person cook two meals to avoid cooking one later?  Does a lazy person seek out that small store that allows for the 5-minute dash in and out for milk in order to avoid the 40-minute grocery store hunt and wait?  Just wondering about how these adjectives fit me and my habits really makes me tired!