Of Hills and Children

Random musings from the week:

1.) Ran the "Road to Hell" course with Rogue last Saturday. It did not go well, and it was not because of the hills.  Only got 5 miles in because of a lovely disorder affectionately called:  IBS. 

2.) I continue to run early Tuesday and Thursday with Cedar Park Road Runners.  Early means 5:15 a.m.  And did I mention it was 5:15 A. M.?  The good news is: Ain't nothin' gonna interfere with 5:15, and it's only 85 degrees at that time of night/day.  Let's focus on the good news. 

3.) I officially signed up for a marathon training program (yay!).  Tough Cookies it shall be.  I'm excited and somewhat scared. 

4.) Hills are one of a million things that keep me humble.  I have never gotten to the point where I say, "Wow.  Hills are easy."  Nope, they're rough, and I never love them.  I ran a 1/2 mile major hill behind my house two times Tuesday (at 5:15 A. M.  This homeschool, stay-at-home-mom can't emphasize that enough.  I need laurels and accolades. Bold and italics won't work.). It nearly killed me.  But I must train for them, and (as my husband would profoundly say) there it is. 

5.) My kids started school last Wednesday.  Blood, tears, and dollars go to their school, and I wouldn't have it any other way. This slightly obsessive mother has searched high and low, and no other school has been been a better fit for us than Veritas Academy.  It's worth its weight in gold, and I am grateful.  Seriously.

6.) My most permanent address is: Mazda CX-9.

7.) I'm also grateful to not parent alone.  This week alone would have done me in had I not had the support and help of my husband. Hats off to those of you who do. You have my highest respect.

8.) Parenting my children is the most humbling, most honest endeavor I engage in. My faults are thrown back at me, love is refined, and God shows up in the most ironic places possible.  Just when I thought I had a handle, God says, "Nope. I'll show you." Which leads me to...

9.) God has shown me two things this week, for sure.  Running keeps me humble. Keep doing it.  Parenting keeps me humble. Keep doing it.  Neither are especially easy. Keep doing it. 

10.) Okay, God, let's do it. 

Be kind to everyone you meet, for every person is fighting a great battle. ~ St. Ephraim

Part 4: Why I Run

Because it's there.

Less is more. ~ Ludwig Mies van der Rohe

Part 3: Why I Run

As I was running my long run last week, I was delighted to see a herd of deer sprint across the road in front of me.  No matter how many times I've seen deer, they never cease to be a source of interest to me.  Several deer, maybe 10, shot across the road ahead of me.  To my surprise, a doe and her fawn stopped and remained stock-still  -- never crossing the road.  A mother held her baby back, knowing it was not time to join the group.

Now, crying and running don't mix well for me.  It messes with my breathing, my pace gets all off, and I look like a complete fool.  But I cried some because I understood that doe, and I knew this post was coming.  She could not cross with the herd because she felt it was unsafe for her child.  She made a split second decision and opted not to cross the intersection because her fawn was in jeopardy.  I was approaching (with lightning speed, I must tell you ;)), and although she could probably make it, her fawn was in question.  There was no real option; she stayed back.

I'm a 41-year-old woman training for my first marathon.  I'll be 42 when I (attempt to) run it.  Could I have crossed the road earlier? Not by much.  My season had not yet come. But I wouldn't trade it for all the Darjeeling in India.  I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the right season is now.  My fawn (2) only now cross the road safely.

I run for my children because they mean the proverbial, yet profound, everything.  Since they've been born it's as simple as this:  I run if I can and I don't if I can't.  If they have a volleyball game, I don't run.  If their soccer practice is canceled (woo-hoo!), I do. I asked them recently if they minded if I trained for a marathon (no small time-sucking undertaking) and they said, "No.  We'd be really proud of you."  To have their blessing warms my heart and gives me peace in training.  Sometimes I even get the ultimate compliment, "It's cool."  That's teenage language for, "You're the most wonderful mother a child could possibly have!"  Or so I'd love to believe.

Can I tell you the mistakes in parenting I've made?  Oh, how I wish I could start over. Major, significant mistakes.  But what I want my daughter to see is a not-so-young woman setting a goal, fighting for it, and reaching it.  I don't want her to accomplish any less.  Ever.  I want my son to see that women are not 'just' housewives.  They're people with minds, lives, goals, aspirations.

And they can wait. Wait until their fawn are ready because they love them.  Because life is not about me.  But "me" is a person too.

Me thinks that the moment my legs begin to move, my thoughts begin to flow.  ~Henry David Thoreau

Commitment

In all my running wisdom, with a half-marthon in November and a (first, Lord willing!) marathon in February, I've decided it was time to "up" my running routine.  So, this morning I met with a group of runners to run intervals on a local track.  Intervals are the (relatively) easy part.  The time of day?  Not so much.  What was difficult was the meeting time: 5:15 a.m. Now, 5:15 a.m. is usually closer to when I go to bed than when I wake up.  To say I'm not a morning person is an understatement.  But I did it. This morning I woke up at 4:50, picked up my neighbor at 5:05, and was huffing and puffing on the track by 5:20.  Whew, that even hurts to write. I wish there was an award for that kind of dedication. I'm all for accolades. :-)

As I was making my zombie rounds on the track this morning, I reflected on the past days' thoughts about my upcoming anniversary.  In about a week I'll be married 22 years.  More than half of my life.  (That does not hurt to write, thanks be to God.) In reflecting about my marriage, the idea that keeps coming up in my mind is:  commitment. Commitment to keep my vows.  Commitment to see it through.  Commitment to guard my heart.  Commitment to forgive.  Commitment to love.

Lest ye be decieved -- my marriage is not the stuff of Hollywood.  It's the real deal. Roses and warts. Feelings are fleeting, but commitment in marriage has produced an abiding joy that I treasure more than I could have imagined in August 1989. C.S. Lewis has a book titled Surprised by Joy.  I loved that book, and I understand that.  My life's title would be Surprised by Commitment. 

To bring it full circle (oh, how I love colons): marathons are like life.  No one bakes a cake for waking up at unholy hours to train.  And there are no laurel wreaths for years of commitment to a spouse.  My reward is to know it's right and best, and that's the best sort of peace.  I've committed and I'm going to see it through, to the best of my ability. Both marathon (short-term) and marriage (life-time).

I love you, Mr. Husband!

Don't use words too big for the subject. Don't say "infinitely" when you mean "very"; otherwise you'll have no word left when you want to talk about something really infinite. ~ C. S. Lewis