More than Martha

62 Birthdays, 62 Things

2011-10-01T17:35:00.000-07:00

October 2nd is Dad’s birthday. Our first without him. It is also my parent’s anniversary. Their 40th. i marvel at the love they shared, their commitment, how they modeled marriage.

In honor of Dad’s birthday, a list... He was always sooo hard to buy for - we never knew what to give him. So this year I give him a list, from my heart. 62 years - 62 things I miss desperately... Many of these things are aspects I’ve missed for years, either because of the natural growth of our relationship and myself - or because of his illness. All have a poignancy much more present now.

The sound of his oxygen tank...
Walking into a room where he was sleeping, holding my breath and watching for his - knowing that someday his would cease...
His smell - sometimes sick, sometime outdoors, always Dad
Running - I used to love to race him. It seems everytime I run now - I’m racing my grief...
His chuckle
ESPN - walking into their house and sitting to watch the game - loved that!
Family Feud - we used to compare the various hosts
Calling their house and him answering with “i’ll get your mom...”
Him rolling his eyes - often at something I’d said
The pharmacy
People asking “How is your dad?” I loved that people cared deeply - and asked even when the answer didn’t change. Now they ask “How is your mom?”
His quiet - so calming
His reasonability - always able to see multiple perspectives
Playing catch - he taught me to throw - and every time I find the seams on a baseball, I think of him.
His advice - I loved how he saw things - always so good.
His comfort after nightmares. I used to have horrific ones - his breathing would lull me back to sleep.
His voice - this might be one of the hardest for me - I loved hearing him say my name, a baseball stat, a joke, a story, anything...
Checking every quarter - just to make sure it was one he had. He was collecting all of the state quarters and we all diligently collected for him. I even bought quarters from the vending machine gentleman who serviced our school machines.
The hospital
His plaid shirt - the black and white one he wore to dialysis
The Donald Duck sound he made to entertain the grandkids.
Playing Trivial Pursuit - and always trying to be on his team - much more likely win that way.
His stories
His steadfastness
His love/hate relationship with the dog, Jack.
His slippers - I used to love to help him put them on. What an honor to hold his legs (I always noticed how tiny his legs were) and slip his slippers on.
His lectures about punctuality - he hated it when I was late for anything.
The sound of his bell - ringing from his room when he needed something.
Cleaning his face with a warm rag after he’d vomited.
His encouragement - for anything I was willing to try and do
How he was unequivocablly on my side - such a stalwart supporter.
His hair
His hands - so thin, so covered in pain. I remember how tightly he gripped with them his last night - how holding them was holding everything, just for a minute.
His books - he used to love to read. I remember knowing that a Tony Hillerman book was a safe bet for gifts.
He used to tease, so subtly, never over the top...
Cartoon clippings. In his classroom, in his office, all over the counter - always personal
His excellence
How polite he was - to everyone. People were respected because they were people...
His sportsmanship - how I loved to watch him win or lose - and to have him present when I did either.
How he loved my mother.
Going to Shari’s for dinner.
The looks people would give us when we’d go anywhere together. So varied - exasperated at having to wait for the sick old man, sympathy, pity, empathy, admiration for him...
His baseball caps
His moral authority - he was pretty clear on most things.
How he knew the names and stories of everyone - such a memory for people
His presence at every track meet, basketball game (how those must of pained him to watch), etc.
THe letters he wrote us - I still have the card from when I lost the 7th grade class president election.
His tenderness
How he would pray - the traditional prayer at dinner, and how he prayed for me when I was hurting.
Driving lessons - especially when Heather was learning to drive stick - I loved giggling in the backseat and watching him tense..
His protection
His ability to remember statistics of so many baseball players
His unwavering devotion to the Dodgers
Playing games
Watching him play games with Dexter - how patient he was in explaining the rules. The memory of the last day I saw him alive - and how present he was as he played one last game.
Him waiting up for me.
Him walking me down the aisle and how grateful I was to have that moment.
His flexibility - I remember him and Mom allowing me to drive back to Minico almost every weekend when we first moved.
His ties
His wheelchair - always in the way, and often holding one of the grandkids - how it’s presence meant Dad was in the room.
Hearing his ankle pop as he walked up the stairs - knowing that Daddy was home and feeling so safe and secure.
His essence, his presence, his very being...

I know that his presence will always be a gaping absence in my life. That every joy will be tempered, that every sorrow will be increased. I also have come to realize that what I thought was normal - this wonderful relationship- is actually something unique - and my gratefulness has increased. Not everyone was so loved and not every dad was so easy to love.
I admire his tenacity - that he worked so hard to be present, to stay alive, to participate. I am so grateful for that fortitude because of the extra time it gave us. I am thankful for his humbleness in allowing me to help care for him, because those moments of care, of pain give me such solace now - I wish there had been more.

My hope is that I can continue to make him proud - that my participation in life honors him. That I will experience a marriage so full of love and mutual respect - that I will honor my husband like my mom did - and that I in turn will be loved in the way my dad modeled.

Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad. Thank you. For all you were to each other, for how you loved, for who you were individually and collectively. In health, in so much sickness, and even in death.

Happy Birthday Dad. I miss you. You are so loved.

Four Months, Four Moments

2011-09-07T20:51:00.000-07:00

I woke this morning with the painful recognition that it has been four months since my father passed away. Four months of being fatherless. And while I mistakenly thought that four months would bring me to a point of acceptance - I find that it does bring me to a point of appreciation – for the father whose love continues to permeate my life, my very being – and for the Heavenly Father whose comfort continues to soothe my aching soul.
I am amazed that life continues. Every encounter I have with someone or something is altered because my reality is so different. My father is dead. I want to start every conversation with that opening – to share with people my loss. And I am beginning to hear theirs – realizing that everyone has some sort of grief, we are united and unique at the same time. And while I would love to just sit at home and cry – and honestly I did that for portions of today – like when a song that we’d played at his service came on the radio and I lost it (ugly, convulsive loosing it – not sweet, gentle pretty tears, but big mean ugly ones) – I believe that God calls us into life – to live, to participate in life. That Dad would expect that of me. And so I choose to live – and some days that looks better than others. Sometimes it really just isn’t swell – and is so painful that even brushing my teeth seems extravagant. But other times it feels like I’m emerging – that I’m finding life, in a new more poignant way.
So I am choosing life tonight – to reflect on some moments that I’ve had without Dad – because everything is now defined as with or without him. I can’t help but think about how he would have celebrated these with me – how he would have softly chuckled on the phone- and encouraged me with his quiet affirmations…

1. I ran a marathon. And finished it. And only cried at the finish line because it was so beautiful and sad at the same time.
2. I’ve had a birthday – the first one without him. I celebrated by going to the cabin and sat in his chair, curled up with his blanket, fingered his sweatshirt and wept.
3. I got a new job – am finally back in the district that I began in – and in which Dad himself began teaching. I think I’m good at it. I can hear Dad telling me good job and reminding me that it is not my responsibility to save the education system at large, that I am in fact replaceable – but can be really good at the same time.
4. Adeline was hospitalized – and how I wanted to call Dad and talk to him about it – to hear him comfort me – because nothing makes you want your mom and dad more than your own child suffering

So those are four moments that have permeated the past four months. But more than that are the little seconds – the choices I make without deciding, but just know that Dad would want me to choose life…

• I’ve gotten up every morning.
• I’ve combed my childrens’ hair
• I’ve kissed Adeline’s scrapes
• I’ve listened to Dexter read
• I’ve played games,
• I’ve made friends
• I’ve run
• I’ve eaten
• I’ve laughed – even loudly at times
• I’ve prayed
• I’ve grown
And I think it might be the little things that I am most proud of – that I have continued to pursue life even when death has cast such a pervasive shadow. I’m hoping that there will come with time an easier spirit – yet I fear that too, the pain keeps him present. So my journey through grief will continue – and will not reach completion until I claim the promises that Dad is already enjoying. And as I choose life, I will do it with a grateful heart – that I loved and admired my father so deeply – and that I was, in turn, so so loved…

More than Martha's Marathon

2011-07-03T20:00:00.000-07:00

So after a 1 ½ months of heartache and stress (seriously – new job, Daddy’s death, Adeline’s hospitalization, Grandma’s stroke – May seriously was not very swell)… and the lack of training that came with that month – my marathon approached… My whole family was coming to Sun River a day early to cheer me on, Mom had rented the house for an extra night to relieve some stress for me and give everyone a close place to stay. Those commitments from the greatest family in the world made me feel committed to showing up on Marathon Morning – even if I was terrified.

We got to Sun River later than we’d planned on Friday night – but in time to carb load and get to bed at a reasonable time. I’d packed all my marathon supplies at the top of my suitcase, so they were right there, which for the planner in me was critical. I was surprised at how easily I slept on Friday night – such a relief.

Saturday morning dawned early – about 2:00 am – which was approximately 4 hours early… Nerves – I have this issue of being afraid to miss my alarm. When 6 finally came, Ryan snuck down to make me my ‘power’ breakfast and I did the dressing thing – just a hint of makeup. Put on the appropriate, prechosen clothes – (did think about switching, since I’d just bought an Under Armour shirt that says RUN on the front and Don’t Be Last on the back, which is sorta my motto). Sunscreened up – if you’re looking for a great sunscreen, try Bullfrog’s Marathon Mist. All morning in the sun, and my fair skin didn’t even get pink!

Ryan took me to the designated spot and prayed for me. Then he hung out while I listed all the reasons I should go home. And convinced me just to do this thing. So when they started the ‘parade’ to the starting line, I went along for the ride. And started to relax and enjoy myself.

And then I started. And just ran. Settled into a comfortable 9:30 pace which I maintained for quite a while. The first 5-6 miles, I ran without my music, just listening to the runners around me. Gabbed with a gentleman who had lots of weight loss advice. Wasn’t sure what he was trying to communicate – decided to not find a hidden message. He was in his fifties and running his 150th marathon. That’s right, 150. And he quickly pulled past me. Then I ran with a man from Calgary who was running his 167th marathon. I ran with him for 2-3 miles before I decided I didn’t want to run with him the whole way – so I upped my pace, just a bit, and moved ahead. I seriously felt amazing, comfortable, relaxed. The elevation didn’t bother me at all. Had to remind myself to take my walk breaks every 6 minutes – had to remember to run the way I’d trained.

About mile 6 I decided that I couldn’t win the race (I know, this shouldn’t have been a surprise). But if I couldn’t win the race, I could win the sportsmanship medal. This is a reward that I made up about mile 6. But seriously, sportsmanship is critical. So I made sure to thank every volunteer – EVERY volunteer, with a smile. And they seemed to appreciate it. But I noticed at mile 8 that I had some competition. The girl just behind me was also thanking the volunteers. I could not lose this award! So I upped my nice and congratulated every runner who past me and thought of something witty to say to every other volunteer (my wittiness is not capable of EVERY volunteer). Got a lot of laughs, which seemed to spur me on to greater sportsmanship, if not greater running. After the race, my sister even made me a medal.

Meantime, my family is looking for me. Sun River is a pretty town, but a bit convoluted with walking trails and roundabouts. And I’m a bit directionally, spatially challenged. (Thus the lack of a spatial-awareness award in my award giving). So at one point I directed Ryan to a lake, which was really more of a puddle. Good thing my husband is more adept at reading maps and race courses, because the family was able to cheer me on several different places between mile 8 and 20 – and then again at the finish line. Something amazing at having your name called by a personal fan club. Especially if the fan club carries your Glide, which I had to apply to my armpits of all places. Favorite quote was from my nephew Robby – who when I stopped to reGlide told me, “Whitney, you have got to go!”

The race course was a loop, and there was a half-marathon and full going on at the same time. About mile 8 I started to get past by half-marathoners. Some of them were crazy fast. And others were wearing a shirt that said something to the effect that half-marathoners were only half crazy. I ran with lots of them to the halfway point – where they went to the finish line. I wanted to follow them, badly – but the emcee reminded me that I had to go the full – and he reminded me in a very public, loudspeaker voice – even when I pointed desperately at the finish line. Got some good laughs there too. And so, I started the last half pretty much alone. And ran that way for a lot of miles. Still felt pretty celebratory, as my half-marathon time was a personal PR – and set me on pace for my goal time in the full.

I really did feel good – for lots and lots of miles. But the marathon was even more miles. About mile 20, I started to really feel heavy. No other way to describe it, my lungs were fine, my energy was even decent. But my legs were heavy. And hard to move. So I relaxed and decided just to enjoy the rest- to let go of the time goal and just move forward (which is what I said outloud, but didn’t really mean, do we ever let go of goals?). But I did move. Slowly – but in the right direction, and without much pain. And with this sort of elation – that I was really doing this thing. On an amazingly beautiful course.

And then, finally, I could hear the finish line. Couldn’t see it, a few curves through a golf course – but I could hear it. And there is nothing more beautiful than a finish line. Except a finish line that holds your mother, sister, brother, in-laws, nieces, nephews, children, and a husband who has supported your training in so many ways. And so I ran, as hard as I could. Felt like a sprint. Probably looked like a crawl. And as I crossed that line, (in 5:16:53 – 16:54 longer than I’d wanted) I cried. I was so proud. SO proud. I just ran a marathon. And at the same time, I was so disappointed. I’d run it so much slower than I’d wanted (but really after nearly a month of nearly no-training, what should I have expected?). And SO sad. My daddy was missing from the finish line. The man who had created this love of running wasn’t there to see it. So as they handed me my finisher’s medal (which I plan on wearing often and with just about every outfit I own), I cried. And thought about Dad and disappointment and pain and joy and how all of these things were so linked. And then there was Dexter and Ryan coming to find me – and then the rest. And the joy overrode the sorrow. And then I had to sit down. Because even more than the joy – I was really, really tired.

So – I had promised myself one marathon – that I would just run one to see. And I saw. And I loved it. And I still have that time goal – and once I get that, there will be another time goal – because that’s how I work. And every run will have this mix of pain, sorrow, joy, elation – because Dad will never be there to see –but I will take him on every run. And there will be many, many more.

Father's Day

2011-06-15T16:34:00.000-07:00

So... yesterday I took my kids to the card aisle - to pick out a card for their dad, my wonderful husband (we just celebrated 13 years on Monday!). And I stood in the aisle and cried - like a baby. Because my father is gone. My daddy - who so personified all the sappy things I read on the cards isn't here to get the card I would have picked out. Yet, I know he is somewhere better - and that my pain pales in comparison to his current joy.

So, in homage to Dad and to Father's Day - I'm sharing what I read at his memorial service - something I'd written two years ago - and the short snippet I added. And I'm reminded, again, of what a blessing it was to be Rod Hanson's daughter...

...
I’m in shock. The truth is I had relaxed my guard, had been a little less vigilant, had been experiencing an easy spirit. And then the phone call. And I knew. At that time of night it could be nothing else. So I got up, found some shoes, and rushed to the hospital.

And mom gave me a gift. In that ER room, watching every shallow breath, listening for every sound, monitoring every heartbeat, Mom gave me my dad back – for just a moment. He’d set his alarm. So he could get up and watch me run – my first marathon. My daddy was going to be there, just like he’d been at so many races before. And for that moment, I relished once more in being the daughter, his beloved daughter.

And then I leaned over his brow. And whispered to him how much I loved him, how proud I was that he was my dad. How proud I was to be Rod Hanson’s daughter. And I whispered to him that my eternity was secure, because he’d lived his so well. And I said all the words I’d ever thought, and thought about the words I’d shared with him – which leads me to my reading…

I wrote this two years ago. At that point the doctors predicted 3- 6 months. And I was determined to make sure Dad knew how loved he was, that when he went, there would be nothing unsaid. What a gift time has been. How many words I’ve shared – and how many I’ve received. I wrote this on my blog, then called him and asked him to read it. He needed to know that my salvation was secure, because of him. This is what I wrote 2 blessed years ago.

Faith in My Fathers
As I contemplate the imminent passing of my dear dad - I am once again driven to seek my Heavenly Father. And have been brought again into the knowledge that it is only because of my dad that I have a relationship with my God.

My life has been blessed - sheltered even. And yet, I have continually sought to create difficulties - I enjoy the drama. Many of these difficulties were honestly not my own fault - I remember the pain that came with a track injury - and the frustration. How I hated not being able to run. I remember the anger and choices that came as secondary results... I remember, vividly, words I said to drive my family and friends away. These choices permeated much of my life - and I know are not uncommon. I was a pretty typical teenage girl.

And through all of it - I remember my father. I remember him picking me up from school and taking me to the counselor. I remember him at every track meet. I remember him praying for me - even as I scoffed at his God. Ever patient and loving. Constantly supporting - and guiding. Dad would not ignore my misbehavior - it was grievous and I know caused him much pain. And like our Heavenly Father - Dad would call me to be better - to be more of who I was. Yet he did it with such patient, accepting love.

Through his illness - he has had such integrity, such vitality. And in his illness, God has worked many miracles. These miracles forced me to face God - and finally accept. Because with an earthly father who so clearly points to a Heavenly one, accepting is truly coming home. And like the prodigal, it is open arms that wait for me every time.

And I think about the statement 3-6 months. I wonder - is this enough? Enough time to memorize the sound of his voice in my mind? To preserve his words, so quietly spoken and so wisely chosen? Enough for my children to have imprinted his face, his winking eyes? Enough time for me to find more of God? And the obvious answer is no - it just isn't. There is never really enough time. So trite, and so true.

And the truth is that I have known - I have imagined this day coming. I have imagined my mother without my father. I have soaked his presence up like the first rainfall... Yet when the reality becomes real - I have no idea how to face life without my father.

And so I cling to the faith he has led me to. The God who truly created my dad in His image has won my heart - because he gave me my father - exactly the one I needed. And the faith of my father will sustain the faith in my Father.

Change of Plans

2011-05-01T20:10:00.000-07:00

So – I’ve pulled out the spontaneous card – and am terrified. I went online this morning to sign up for the marathon – in two weeks, realizing I hadn’t actually registered (ironic, considering my excitement!). Ryan went on simultaneously (although on his Mac, simultaneous means light years ahead of me – seriously, it’s my turn for a new computer)… As he was searching, he saw the Lake Lowell marathon. This is a new race – in its inaugural year. And it includes most of my training routes – including the ones I did in my 20 miler… And the hills are at the beginning. So, I signed up. Thinking that nothing would really happen in the next 2 weeks that would make waiting an additional week better… I am as ready as I am going to be. And then a sense of panic – I changed my plans! And flexibility is not one of my core strengths… But by running this race – I can still make it to Dexter’s soccer game, and the family can cheer me on at almost every mile. Since I’ll be running completely alone – their presence will be a huge help!

So here are my top 10 worries….

10. 26.2 miles – enough said
9. the hills – subtle, but very present
8. the highway
7. A week early…
6. A little under the weather right now – hoping I feel better
5. Weather
4. What to wear? Always on the list
3. The solitude
2. A very, very, very small race – which pretty much guarantees I’ll be bringing up the rear
1. 26. 2 miles…
So I’m working on my mental game this week – prepping myself. I tried the Galloway method on my trail run this weekend, and really liked it – my pace was faster, even with the fever, and I wasn’t as discouraged at any point of the run – that could have been the view – but I think it was knowing that I could run for 6 minutes and then walk – not having to wait a full 2 miles. Overall my walking was the same, but my pace was faster. Think I’ll apply the method again. And just enjoy the process – without setting a new goal for myself while I complete the first. Just want to bask in the completion. Assuming that I finish.

Robie Run

2011-04-17T20:25:00.001-07:00

Saturday dawned early - my excitement made it difficult to stay in bed - and a weather check was necessary. My race outfit was chosen, but weather can always change my mind - and so can a pink shirt that is just not right...

Had my 'power' breakfast and felt fantastic. Met Kay and Jo at Moxie Java and spent a prerace hour laughing. These women and their bathroom antics are pretty inspiring. They talk about bodily functions more than most boys I know:)...

Then to pick up Jesse - who was talking before he got in the car. He'd brought us gift sacks to commemorate previous races and all the funny memories from them. We had to stop for him to pick up a support for his knee - since he'd left it at home. The Rite-Aid we stopped at had one for him, but did not have any servicable watches for me (I'd left my Garmin at home, and was feeling distraught over not having the ability to monitor my pace). I didn't think ghetto gold was the best way to track my running.

After about 30 more minutes of running in and out of the bathroom and picking up our packets, I finally saw Val, but only briefly - as we were walking in opposite directions - her on a mission to get her packet and me on a mission to ReGlide.

I love the start of Robie - the noise, the performance, the ambiance. I was bummed to not get a 'tatoo' this year. I love how hard core people look as the sweat begins to make the ink run.

As we started - slowly, it always takes so long for everyone to start running, we ran right by Kaylee and Moses from the Biggest Loser - definitely a celebrity sighting. But no Val. I decided that I just had to run- that we would find each other or not - but I so wanted to find her.

About 1/2 mile down the road, Pat (Val's amazingly fast husband) passed me. He let me know she was just back a bit and in purple. So I slowed just a tad and within another five minutes she'd found me. which was awesome and made the next 7 more miles so much better! Especially because she had a watch and could clue me in regarding our pace. I was pleased at mile 2 and 3 to be under my target pace. I was also pretty amazed because Kay, Jo, and Jesse were nowhere to be seen. I was planning on Kay having a PR - and her quick start proved anything was possible for her.

Unfortunately I realized about mile 1.5 that my wonderful playlist I'd stayed up late to create wasn't wroking the way i'd thought it would. Somehow I'd put my phone on loop, so the same song was playing over and over and over. Not that I didn't like the song, but I didn't think I could stomach Ice Cube's "You Can Do It, Put Your Back into It" for a whole 13 miles. About mile 4 I remembered I could skip songs using the wire thing - so I felt liberated. Each song got about 2 plays before I couldn't tolerate it any longer - and Destiny's Child got 3 - about mile 11.5 - because they were asking me if I could keep up and I knew that I could. Giggling, I let that song play an extra loop. I always wonder what people think when I giggle:).

One of the highlights of the race was being next to Kaylee from Biggest Loser for a few minutes. We talked about her running - and that Robie wasn't an easy first half-marathon. Pretty cool to see someone really making a change.

I summitted at 1:59 - what a painful 8.5 miles. I'm always shocked at how long it takes me to do that - and always a little disappointed in how much I've ended up walking. But seriously, some parts of the road are so steep I can walk as fast as I can run. Shout out to Val who everytime the pitch lessened even slightly would say, "Let's go" and start running.

The start of the descent was actually pretty painful - a sharp pain in my left shin. I decided the best plan was to ignore - and if it still hurt at mile 10 to walk. But within a few minutes the pain was gone and I was feeling pretty amazing. I was able to pass the man dressed as a pirate with boobs, the bushy pony tail with great legs, and the profuse sweater. I always have to have one or two people to pick off - since I'll never be at the front, it somehow feels like winning.

I reached mile post 12 and felt fantastic, so upped my pace just a bit - and picked off the pretty girl running with her hair loose. Seriously - her hair was blond and mesmerizing - it was all swishy and didn't seem to be adversely affected by the heat, the sprinklers, or the previous 12 miles.

At mile post 13 I was able to full on sprint - and finally get the guy in the blue shirt - I'd been trying for at least 1.5 miles. As I crossed the finish, I desparately looked for the time clock, but it was nowhere to be seen. Seriously? Without my watch, I had to know my time - I was trying for a PR... But apparently my Iphone wasn't the only thing having technical difficulties.

Val came across within just a couple minutes and shared her time with me - 2:44 - reassuring me that my time would have been faster. I was thrilled since my time last year was 2:49 and I'd wanted to beat it, badly. Found Jesse, my bag, and the cookies - then Kay and Jo. We beat it out of there pretty quickly to get in the bus line - and no one passed out or puked. Pretty uneventful.

Overall highlights:
1. Jo and Jesse and their mustard - which leads to a new favorite race quote, "Do you have your mustard?"
2. Kay and Jo and their bathroom needs
3. The pirates
4. Running with Val
5. A PR!! 6:30 off of last year's pace!
6. Kay had an amazing PR - took off 30 minutes. Yes, I'm jealous, but also just uber proud of her!
7. Finishing something that is insanely hard - such a feeling.
8. My sunburn - seriously? 32 years and I still forget my sunscreen?
9. The realization that if I can do this - I can do my marathon in one month.

What a Difference 16.5 Miles Make

2011-04-10T15:39:00.000-07:00

Saturday's run - 16.5 miles. 1.5 short of my targeted 18. Dexter had a soccer game and I decided it was more important to go to his game than it was to finish the mileage. I made that decision because I felt great for the entire run- and knew the 1.5 could easily have been completed. Somehow confidence allows me to cut things short.

My pace was faster. Another 20 seconds per mile. I had a couple of miles that were sub 10 - even in the middle of the run. I was at a comfortable pace throughout - and my hydration breaks were so relaxed. I had bought a new pack - I needed to carry more water - I'd run out on my last run. Ryan and I had also discussed my 'fuel' and that for these long runs I had to focus more on energy and finishing, versus weight loss... So I got some chews and ate one every two miles. and my legs had energy. I loved my new pack - it carried my Iphone comfortably - with out the annoying my arms with the cords. Ryan showed me how to work the little device on the cord, so I could switch songs without having to actually touch the device. Loved that. Also loved the addition of a few new songs to my playlist. Push It Real Good!

Lots of thoughts on the run:
1. running by the old folks home - if I can string together several more years of this - I'll be at my own home for much longer...
2. Running by my parents - if I was a better daughter, I'd stop in, but I smelled bad...
3. Running by the golf course - I wonder if they're looking at me in my running tights - I hope not - view from behind isn't the best...
4. If I can run 16.5 miles I can deal with Ms. Snot at work...
5. If I can run a few more weeks like this - I can reach my goal weight...
6. I wonder what my goal weight is.
7. Robie is one week away - and I'm not training hills like I should be... but I have the distance covered and I feel great.

It just feels good to get out. The weather wasn't perfect, but it was a whole lot better than the week before. And I just really, really like to run. I like the way my legs feel when they're moving, I like the swing of my arms (I've got to lose the TRex thing I've got going on), and I like the air...

Robie is a week away. I'm about 15 pounds lighter than when I ran it last year. That has to help. I'm confident in a PR. Not setting an overall goal time - it is such a difficult run - that 8 miles up is a killer. I'm just wanting to beat last year by even a few seconds. And to enjoy the day. Running with Kay, Jo, and Jesse again - and this year Val is joining - so the company is great.

Stats to this point:
20 pounds lost (hit a new decade this morning!)
8-10 inches lost
Lots of workouts completed - increased weight, endurance, and speed...

All of this is encouraging - as long as I allow it to be. Have to work diligently to enjoy the process... and to relax about moving on to the next goal.

And all of it makes me think that maybe, just maybe I can get through 30 more days of my situation.

Disappointment

2011-04-07T20:06:00.000-07:00

So this post has nothing to do with running - although a good run would have done wonders today...

I am at a spot. An uncomfortable one. I am struggling. For the last two months, there has been this possibility - a hope on the horizon. This possibility would have propelled me out of the spot - and into another one. And while I realize that it was always just a possibility, I had structured my whole life around this hope. I had made plans - for my family, my time, my workouts, even my wardrobe - to fit this new spot. The anticipation was so sweet, so hopeful, so welcoming, so freeing.

And then today. At 9:30 the possibility was taken away. Not from me directly - it wasn't a rejection. Just a general removal of chances. And when I found out - I cried. Not just a little - we're talking hyperventilating, sobbing, shaking tears. Mascara streaks, red swollen eyes. Forty-five minutes of heart-wrenching, nauseating tears. In my office. In the middle of it, I pulled myself together, snuck into the bathroom, and washed my face - ready to go teach my 3rd period class.

Only to realize that somehow I had missed the beginning of class. When I got there, my assistant had the kids working diligently. I walked in and a group of loving 7th graders asked where I'd been. Embarrassed for a myriad of reasons, I promptly burst into tears again. Which moritifed both myself and my students. And bless her heart, my aide, Ms. F pulled me over and said, "I got this - go compose yourself." And on my way out the door a 7th grader pulled me over, hugged me, and said, 'be okay' this from a girl who routinely points out the flaws in my outfits.

So I went into my office, sweet solitude, and wept some more.

As I was leaving work, a little early - nothing like a trip to the dentist to cheer a girl up - a coworker saw me. His response, 'you look like you got beat up today.' And yeah, that was exactly how I felt.

So tonight, I'm in mourning. The hope that I have held onto is gone - which is going to make the next 31 days excruiating. I know that the Lord holds enough hope for me - and that by tomorrow, I can cling to that hope - which is bigger than any circumstance, or spot I find myself in. But I also know that tomorrow brings another day of difficulty - in processes and in people. And I need to find some solace and some compassion for others. I can do that tomorrow. Tonight - I just want to curl up and cry a little bit more. And eat ice cream. Tomorrow - God's hope. Tonight - my own despair.

Running Skirt

2011-03-30T17:40:00.000-07:00

So - one of my goals was to enter some of the give aways. Trying for something I really, really want - a running skirt. I followed the blog - in my running lists. Take a look at the pink argyle one! Love it!

http://longlegsontheloose.com/2011/03/27/who-wants-a-new-running-skirt-or-athletic-or-tri-skirt/

My 1st Runner's World!!!

2011-03-29T20:02:00.000-07:00

Runner's World arrived today! With two issues because of how long they took to get here! Woohoo! Cannot wait to read. Motivation here I come!!!

Today is March 29... Robie is April 16th. Only two Saturdays... And I don't feel ready. My last hill run was painful. And slow. So I'm working on redefining slow. And accepting myself and where I'm at. I did fourteen miles the other day - and my first two were great - the pace I'd wanted... (almost). The next two were uphill. The last ten were up and down - against the wind, in the rain, the hail, the sunshine, the still (LOVE Idaho springs...) And my pace increased overall by about 10 seconds per mile. Which resulted in a PR for my half-marathon time. And I long to be happy with that - because it was a huge improvement. But then I think about how it is still slower than so and so, or that if I were really fast, I'd run a sub 2 hour half... And I play this game of elation vacillating hatred. And just desperately want to land in the middle - just be content...

Other thoughts - 14 is 12 away from 26. That means I've gone over half. I can do the rest! I'm thinking they'll be painful.

I have lost 17 pounds. The more I lose, the faster my goal changes. I'd originally wanted to lose 20. Now I think 25-30. At some point - I have to be content...

I have been reading lots of running blogs. There are lots of great give-aways. I think that to win - you need to enter, so that is a new goal for me:). I'm going to try and link them - lots of humor involved in running!

Training Update and Day 4

2011-02-27T19:30:00.000-08:00

I'm skipping day 3 - this computer doesn't have any pictures of me as a child, and I'm simply too lazy to get one. Just know that I was an adorable kid - with somewhat questionable hair and clothing:)...

So day 4 - a habit I wish I didn't have... So, so many... probably my compulsions. I weigh myself at least 3 times a day. I measure myself at least 4 times a week. And amazingly, at that rate, very little changes. Yet - I'm compulsive about it - only when I have a goal. So I wish I could set a goal without tracking my own progress every 3 hours!

My training is going well. Had a great run today. 10 miles in the beautiful cold sunshine. I've found a great hill about 3 miles from my house. Last time I ran that route, it was 8 miles and my pace was overcome by the hill. Today I added 2 miles - which added another hill - and my pace was 30 seconds faster than last time I ran that route. That included one brutal uphill stint against the wind at mile 5. Very excited about that change. Still not going to win any actual races, but feels so good to improve on my own paces. Makes the thought of 4:42 am alarm a little less frustrating!

Training Update

2011-02-22T20:06:00.000-08:00

To date:

Currently running 8-9 miles comfortably - not uber fast, but increasing my speed each run. Enjoyed a lovely 7.5 miles with my friends on a girls weekend - in the snow at McCall. Loved it!

Have maintained my rec center visits - Monday thru Friday at 5:15 am... Have added spinning to replace a run a week - my hip was getting sore. Most days because of meetings I only get 45 minutes in, but the few days I don't have meetings I like to add a quick double. And nights Dexter has swim lessons I'm able to get an extra 30 minutes in as well.

Am registered for Robie! So really, really looking forward to that.

Have not lost any more weight, quite disappointed about that, but trying to let it go - realizing it isn't the big picture. I have lost some inches - which makes my clothes fit better, so that feels like a celebration.

At this point - I'm determined to just keep going - to not let the scale be my enemy, but to embrace and enjoy the process...

Day #2 The Meaning Behind my Blog Name

2011-02-22T20:02:00.000-08:00

So, I've always struggled with achieving... And with the Bible story featuring Martha and her lazy sister Mary. Mary who sits and worships while Martha gets things done... Martha makes it possible for everyone else to recline and relax - her service empowers others. And so, yeah, I realize that isn't the point of the story - but it is my intrepretation. I've always thought that Marth got the raw end of the deal - I'm sure she planned on worshiping at the feet of her Savior, once her work was done. And that is the crux of things - and where I'm working. Worshiping first, letting my work itself be worship - not just getting things done. Allowing Christ to be first and foremost, not just another item on my to-do list. And so, I'm working to be more than Martha...

31 Days - Day #1 - 15 things about me

2011-02-01T19:14:00.001-08:00

My most recent picture - skiing with Adeline...

And now - 15 things about myself...

1. I love teaching
2. I sometimes read trashy novels
3. I am a compulsive email checker
4. I am a neurotic goal setter - current goal is my marathon
5. I AM a runner
6. I should be more interested in current events - sometimes I pretend
7. My favorite television shows are Biggest Loser and Parenthood
8. I do not floss, but think about it often
9. My biggest vice - Coke - how I miss it!
10. I LOVE music - all sorts, and almost always have it on - I choose a theme song for various activities...
11. My husband has never seen me pee. 12 years and I am still a compulsive door closer. So is he, thank God:).
12. I weigh myself 2 or 3 times a day.
13. I can celebrate for nearly any occasion - and create occasions
14. I love working out with a Kettlebell
15. I love my curly, big, and red hair

31 Days of Blogging

2011-02-01T19:09:00.000-08:00

I copied this idea from my friend Amber's blog. I love reading her blog - am a little voyeuristic(sp) about it - but I always find much encouragement in it. So I am totally stealing. I thought this one sounded like a lot of fun - and my blog tends to be a little introspective... So this will be a little more light hearted!

day 1- recent picture of you and 15 interesting facts about yourself
day 2- the meaning behind your blog name
day 3- a picture of you as a child
day 4- a habit that you wish you didn’t have
day 5- a picture of somewhere you've been
day 6- favorite super hero and why
day 7- a picture of someone/something that has had the biggest impact on you
day 8- short term goals for this month and why
day 9- something you're proud of in the past few days
day 10- songs you listen to when you are happy, sad, bored, hyped, mad
day 11- write a bucket list of things you want to do before you die
day 12- write a poem to someone you love
day 13- your 5 favorite books and why
day 14- a picture of you and your family
day 15- put your ipod on shuffle: first 10 songs that play
day 16- a picture of yourself
day 17- someone you would want to switch lives with for one day and why
day 18- plans/dreams/goals you have
day 19- write about a sweet memory from your past
day 20- write a letter to someone
day 21-a picture of something that makes you happy
day 22- what makes you different from everyone else
day 23- something you crave a lot
day 24- post your favorite quote or verse of scripture and why
day 25- what I would find in your bag
day 26- list 10 things that you are thankful for
day 27- my day job verses my passion
day 28- cruise a thesaurus and pick out 10 words you like the sound of
day 29 - favorite tv shows and why you like them
day 30 - movies you can watch again and again.

Goal Attained

2011-01-26T20:36:00.000-08:00

Wednesdays have become my favorite day. It starts with a Boot Camp class at 5:15 am. Love the early morning - although my coordination takes a bit more time to kick on... In the evenings, Dexter has had a Lego class at the Rec Center the last few Wednesdays. I drop him off, take Adeline to the child care center (or as she calls it, her Lego class) and then I head upstairs to the Stairmaster.

And I have a real love/hate relationship with that machine. It has a lovely TV on which I am able to find reruns of Friends, LOVE. It has a motor that makes it move relentlessy, HATE. But the best thing - at the end of my time - it gives me a message. Such a sweet, encouraging message. At the beginning it asks for my goals. And my activator self beams as I type in my weight, HATE, my desire - always the Fat Burner and my time. And then it goes. And when I reach the end of my time - it stops, LOVE. And then it flashes on the screen, GOAL ATTAINED. LOVE, LOVE, LOVE. A piece of victory - albeit small, but still GOAL ATTAINED. And that so speaks to every aspect of my personality.

So I ride the machine down to the ground and move on to the treadmill - another object of mixed emotions. And I tell it what it wants to hear - again my weight, my goals, etc. But it doesn't have the same message at the end. And I curse the machine in my mind - reminding it that I am going a pretty quick clip - and that its incline is definitelly high - but it doesn't seem to care. Which is why it will always be second fiddle to the Stairmaster. I need a machine that affirms my effort!

So working towards my marathon. 3 weeks in a row of consistent work outs. Runs that feel good - and almost fast, at least for me... One run that involved a minor case of whiplash and a flirtation with concussions - but ended peacefully. My long runs are only 6 miles this week - the mileage kicks up soon - and I'm looking forward to the alone time, the time with friends, and the chance to breathe in and out.

Some positive side effects - our healthy eating has reduced my acne, my cravings, and has had some interesting effects on the kids. Last night Dexter said he just really, really wanted a nice, big, juicy vegetable. Tonight he loved the chicken, pepper, onion, mushroom, pineapple skewers - even asking for more mushrooms. Adeline begged for more pineapple. Ryan made a great ice cream made from coconut milk - which was yummy.

And I have lost 10 pounds, 3.5 inches, and tonight took the kids swimming with my sister and her kids. Didn't even shy away from the swimsuit. Ironic since I know I don't look that different, and a glance in the mirror was discouraging - but I felt good, even confident. Apparently the mental impact of working out is pretty powerful for me.

Training Begins

2011-01-21T17:16:00.000-08:00

So... here I begin. I am finally accepting my personality, realizing that my activator and achiever strengths urge me to set and accomplish goals.

And what is the ultimate goal for a wannabe runner? A marathon. I have chosen one. Knowing that all the half marathons I've done have been hilly - and mostly up-hilly, I've chosen a gentle downward sloping marathon, known for its fun... The Great Potato.

And knowing that this event is coming up - and hoping that Robie is a stop in the middle, I have started my fitness regime. It began with a very upsetting fitness test this morning. 5:30 am is a terrible time of day to find out your body fat percentage. But now I know... And this is only my starting point. I am determined to lose 15 pounds by April - which will mean 15 less pounds to drag up the hill - and 6% less body fat. A very reasonable goal.

Ryan has helped with the diet thing. We've been cooking at home, almost religously. We're eating a lot of protein, fruits, and vegetables - and I'm indulging, with one small treat a day. 1 cookie instead of 5, 4 Starburst instead of a bag... And sadly, NO soda. I know, you've all heard that before. But everytime I think about drinking one, I think about carrying it up the hill or for 26.2 miles, and decide that I don't really want it...

I've been at the Rec Center consistently at 5:15 am for the last two weeks. I've found 3 classes that I really like, which serve as my cross training. Pretty intensive classes. I love sweating in the morning - although I loathe getting ready for work at the gym. But I have found a schedule, a pattern that works, that I can maintain. Getting in the long runs will be difficult in the morning, but I have Saturday mornings for the really long ones.

And, for every pound I lose, or every percentage of body fat, I get $10.00 to spend on new clothes. And I will look fabulous - because my confidence grows exponentially as I work out.

I will be blogging about my runs and my training - in an effort to hold myself accountable, and to encourage myself... To grow as part of the process...

Truth and Choices.

2011-01-09T18:42:00.000-08:00

I have a very wise friend, who encouraged me in a moment of great, intense weakness to cling to the truths that I know, that I have chosen – while acknowledging all the reasons I might be in an incredible slump – faced with dark feelings I’ve never experienced…

So, in homage to this friend, I am writing 2 Top 10 Lists. The first is dealing openly and honestly with my current harsh realities. The second is seeking the truths in my life that might help me overcome and move forward from this dark place that seems to be encompassing every facet of my life. All of this in the desperate hope that things will get better. That this is the dark before the morning – that dawn will come for me. Staggering in my night is suffocating me.

The Ugly Truths:
10. I have moved twice in the last 2 ½ months. That was difficult – emotionally, physically – not to mention all the details that have to be taken care of…

9. Moving from one town meant I left a network of friends that supported me more than I realized.

8. My father has been gravely ill for many, many years – and there seems to be no resolution in sight – for either complete healing or a peaceful ending.

7. My father’s illness creates dynamics that are both a blessing and a difficulty – often I am called to make a choice between caring for him and my mom or my own family, or myself. I always come third. And then feel guilty because I recognize how blessed we are to have him still here.

6. I have a job that is at its best, extremely difficult, and at its worst – horrible. I love the work itself, the students, and many of my colleagues – but many of the dynamics leave me feeling beat up on a daily basis. This job requires that I leave my home at 6:30 – before I even see my kids. This job, this career is a calling that makes relationships with others difficult because of the time and energy it takes.

5. I am married to a man that I love desperately, but our opposite personalities make things like partnering in child-rearing difficult. His work creates so much stress in our lives that I struggle to not resent it.

4. I am still incredibly dissatisfied with my body – even though I try desperately not to be. This is compounded by the fact that my schedule has made consistent working out difficult. Another byproduct of changing both my job and my home in the last year.

3. I am incredibly lonely. I left friends behind that ran, skied, and prayed with me. I feel isolated and alone. I don’t even feel that I can share the extent of my aching aloneness with my husband.

2. I cannot find God. I know he is there, but I can’t find Him. The church we’ve recently tried (for the last two months) has been friendly, but I can’t find God there – collectively it feels like dry bones. That could be me, the church, who knows, but my loneliness increases every Sunday.

1. My own personality. I am a compulsive achiever – someone who must constantly be better. This drive is catching up with me – my need for perfection and to appear effective and efficient is consuming – and the cracks are beginning to show.

Enough whining… Now onto my positive truths…

10. Moving was the right thing to do. We were both convicted, and only God could have worked things out the way they did. We are going to save thousands.

9. I can make new friends while keeping in contact with the old ones – that will require effort on my part.

8. My Daddy is still here – and that is an amazing miracle.

7. I am honored to help care for Dad. It is a privilege to have people need me.

6. I have chosen this career because I was called to it. God created me for it. I might not love my current job – but the career is an honor and privilege. I am good at it. I will find my center in it again. The sacrifices I make to do the job are honored by God – He will take care of my children.

5. I love my husband. I chose him – and I continue to choose him. There are aspects of him that I find exceedingly difficult – but again, I chose and choose him. Again and again.

4. Running makes me feel better. I need to run. I am healthy. I can accept the chubs – if I allow God to work through me.

3. I am lonely because I tend to isolate myself. Friendships take work. A lot of work. I have to be willing to do it. I cannot wait for people to want to be my friend – my personality often drives them away. I can set aside my need to achieve and just be with people. That will take a certain amount of vulnerability.

2. God is there. God is always there. He will find me. He promises to answer when we seek Him. I will continue to seek.

1. I am who I am. I am created by God. End of story. My personality is His design. I can choose to develop my strengths or be beat by them.

So now I have to wonder purposefully through this desert, through this wilderness. And trust that the truths I hold will come to fruition. That the promises of God remain true. And that every season holds purpose, even dark ugly seasons.

A Healing

2010-12-19T20:29:00.000-08:00

A week ago I was sitting on my parent’s couch, tense and nervous, waiting for the gentle tinkling of a bell. Tonight I am on my couch, awed once again by both my Heavenly and earthly fathers.
Last Sunday Dad was ill. Very ill. Not make it through the night, scary ill. Mom had an appointment with some friends – and she needed the respite. I went over to sit with Dad. During my time there, he vomited several times. And since he was too weak to move from his bed, he vomited into one of those little curved receptacles made just for that purpose. The bell would ring, I’d run into the bedroom and Dad would be on his side, vomiting into the pink plastic. I would take the plastic, switching it quickly for another one, because one wasn’t enough. When he was finished, I would take a warm rag, and wash his face. I remember thinking what a privilege it was to be in his presence, to be able to provide some care. How honored and humbled I was… And how scared I was that he might actually be leaving…
And today when I called, he answered the phone, sounding strong. And I was honored and humbled once again, that my Heavenly Father would give me more time with Dad. That He would see fit to heal him for another day, another week, another season. And while healing takes many terms, I have chosen to see it in the light shared with me by a saint at church. She told me that any time we expect to leave and are allowed to stay, it is a healing. Maybe not from everything, but certainly for something. And Dad received a healing – a healing for Christmas, for the opportunity to celebrate another one with us, to see my sister and her family. And I am humbled and grateful.

Perfect Body

2010-07-12T16:06:00.000-07:00

I have long held ‘body issues.’ Not a surprise for anyone who has talked to me for more than five minutes. I’ve often bemoaned my size, my weight. I’ve spent hundreds of dollars and countless hours trying to fix it. Recently I was at a public pool. My son asked (pleaded) for me to go down the waterslide so he could see it done. Thinking to myself that I would have to walk the entire distance of the pool (very, very crowded pool), I was less than enthusiastic. But I gathered my strength and marched across toward the waterslide. As I walked I noticed that I was actually VERY average. Sure there were women there far younger, far fitter. And there was the flip side as well. But as I walked with my thighs hugging one another for comfort, I realized that everyone was actually a little bit icky. The skinny girls had imperfections too – especially up close. The healthy men had unsightly moles (ok, maybe not all of them, but at least the one directly in front of me). And I was right in their midst. My body was average, but so strong as I walked across the sidewalk. I am NORMAL and HEALTHY! What a wonderful feeling. And so this was my realization as I reflected that night:

For those of you who know me, or those of you who might just pass by me at some point – this is going to be a huge surprise. I actually have a perfect body. Easily missed by thighs that, yes, rub together when I run (thank God for Glide! An actual product for people like me). Or perhaps disguised beneath a belly that is still slightly tubby. Or maybe my masculine arms (which can swing the kettlebells like no other) have been the misleading force.

But my body is glorious still the same. This body has carried two wonderful children – and while they had to have some help getting out, the body weathered that rather well – with a beautiful, lumpy, asymmetrical scar to prove they were there.

Still glorious. This body runs. This body jumps. This body can do hundreds of squats and lunges. Can climb the rope in the gym. This body sweats profusely. It might not be fast – but it can go – and how it revels in the rhythm of breathing in and out.

More glorious. This body kneels to pray. Knees get sore at the altar with arms that are able to wrap around friends. These hands raise in worship. And while the hands still can’t clap on beat and the voice meanders around the tune instead of on it – this body adores its King.

Amazingly glorious. This body was created by the adored King. In His image! How dare I continue to loathe it? So this body rejoices in itself – and in others much like it. It was fearfully and wonderfully made.

I realize this revelation should not be new. But I have spent at least 20 of the last (gasp) 32 years hating my body. Hating it deeply. I plan on spending the next 60 reveling in it – just the joy of having it – and caring for it. I realize the process might be sloppy and painful and I will be tempted to hear lies and hate it again. But each time my thighs give each other five on a run, I plan on laughing out loud- and relaxing in the knowledge that I am truly amazing.

Be Still

2010-05-30T20:52:00.000-07:00

So much on my mind - looking ahead and reflecting on where we've been...

3-6 months passed quickly - and since then my amazing father has defied the odds once again. Setting new goals - he made it to 60, met his 6th grandchild, celebrated Christmas, saw the new year, and got himself discharged from hospice. He's also been to see Heather's family in Seattle twice. Another set of multiple miracles! While he is obviously weary, and we've recently had fears confirmed as his heart has continued to lose functioning - he is here, and very much present. I am grateful - and confident that Dexter will have memories of his grandpa Hanson - times at the cabin, moments at their home, etc. And tenuosly hopeful that Adeline will too have memories of this man who is so much a part of who I am...

I am looking forward to summer! This last year has probably been the hardest of my life. So much trouble in so many ways. Work was exceedingly difficult - the budget woes have hit every district hard, and ugly times bring out ugly sides in good people. I have struggled to act with integrity in the midst of some very difficult situations. Home was difficult - the more I study and pursue degrees, the less I am present.

Perhaps I should just be honest - I have just plain struggled. Struggled to smile, to laugh, to even be present in any tangible fashion. I've been lonely, angry, anxious, and abysmally sad.

And yet - as I look back; there is so much to celebrate... my father's continued presence, my new job, my kiddos and their continued good health and budding knowledge of God, some budding and authentic friendships, some races run, a husband who is faithful and true - so patient and becoming such a man of God, another degree nearly finished, Dexter's success in school... I could go on for years. And in the midst of such blessing - I feel selfish for the struggle.

Which leads me to my goals - I am done feeling guilty. I serve a God who is generous and whose grace is abundant enough for me. He knows how dry I've been. He is also the God who makes dry bones dance. So I cling to that promise. I will wait. I will choose hope, even if I don't feel it. I will continue and carry on, knowing that He will fulfill all of His promises. That He is sovereign and so, so good.

So my one and only goal for this summer - BE STILL - and know that He is God.

I will pursue Christ this summer. I will seek to know the Holy Spirit. I will celebrate being a daughter of the Heavenly Father. I will bask and glory in His love and delight in who I am...

I will not - feel guilty, run to be skinny, compare myself to others, dwell in self-loathing. And when I am tempted...

I will run to Him - confess my struggle and trust Him for deliverance.

I will complete my degree - and celebrate the knowledge that He created me to love learning - to love the challenges and joys of teaching. That He has in fact, called me to this work, and will carry my family when I am divided. Because this is who He has created me to be.

I will not feel guilty that I am not a stay at home mom. I will not feel guilty that I don't have multiple books of my babies (thank you sweet Jess for providing the beautiful ones I do have!). I will not punish myself because I am not sewing adorable outfits or creating wonderful projects. I will not feel guilty that I don't give as much time or money as others in church. I will not be bullied by myself or by others who have expectations beyond what God has called me for.

And when I do...

I will run to Him - confess my struggle and trust Him for deliverance.

I will play with my kids - relish who they are, who they are becoming. I will read to them and swing with them and play endless games of Uno.

I will not ruin each moment with thoughts of what I should be doing - to be a better mom, wife, daughter, etc. And when I do...

I will bask in being who I am - in knowing that this is exactly who God wants.

All my tasks will be done, maybe not with exceeding excellence, but with joy and comfort, and purpose.

And I will BE STILL.

I am quivering with anticipation...

Panic Rising

2010-02-02T20:15:00.000-08:00

I find that as I seek peace, panic often arrives simultaneously. I'm training for Robie Creek - I decided training was a good idea this year. I've been enjoying my runs and cross training, have finally found a rhythm and a friend to run with consistently - she'll even meet me well before dawn. All of these things help me find peace - they create a sense of general well being. All good. Getting up to run early has given me an opportunity to have some quiet time.

And so tonight I logged onto the Robie Creek site. Just checking to see about registration. And had such an overwhelming, instantaneous rush of panic. What if I don't get in? Only 2000 people... many get left out every year. I have to get in! How can I train for something so uncertain? What if it is all for nothing? My heart rate accelerates, my hands shake, and I struggle to even breathe...

Striving to find the rationale part of my brain, I ask again, what if... What if I don't get to run a grueling half-marathon? And rationally I say - so what? I don't run that day? It doesn't negate all the work I've done. It doesn't mean I have been personally rejected. The running world has not chosen to selectively omit me. I am not being isolated by a group of thinner, more attractive, healthier, real runners. They have not discovered my pseudo-running status.

And yet, I can't set the alarm for 5 without the hope of Robie over my head. Without the promise of a completed goal.

Which leads me to another panic state - what if I get in and don't meet my goal time? Or I could have a repeat of last year in which I began my period partway through the race and had to carry my lovely finisher's shirt in front of me for the entire shuttle trip home? What if someone discovers by watching me run that I've really just been pretending all along?

Maybe I should quite running and have some ice cream. Not a lot of panic in that. Just sweet satisfaction.

Intercession

2009-12-14T21:06:00.000-08:00

Sometimes the Spirit meets us where we are - and speaks to the Lord when we have no words. Only the cry of our hearts. This is the promise I cling to tonight - the assurance that when I am empty, despairing, and overcome the Spirit hears my heart and responds.

After class tonight I stopped by Mom and Dad's. The blinds were open and Mom had gotten the tree and lights up (a big relief and joy for her). I could see in and it was such a homey scene. And as I got closer, there was Dad. Sitting upright on the edge of a chair - fully participating in the scene. And he looked so healthy, so alive... Walking in I was greeted by his voice - which sounded so strong and steady. And I thought to myself, "He's not really dying after all..."

And this is the cycle - the ride that we are always on. The up and down, heart wrenching grief and inexplicable joy. And I am overwhelmed.

And all of this in the middle of my desperation. My despondency. I seek isolation, crave it - but am forced into relationship by situation. How dare I not participate in what little life Dad has? And so again, it is my father who brings me back... What will I do without him?

And so the Spirit intercedes. The cries of my heart are so chaotic, so drenched in self-contempt that I have nothing left to give. So the Spirit gives for me. And of course, the Lord will answer. Right?

2009-07-22T20:07:00.000-07:00

Caring for the Caretaker

2009-07-22T19:51:00.000-07:00

How my heart aches tonight. Talking to my mom and hearing her anguish and exhaustion. And her strength. I just wish there was someway to lift her burden. She doesn't even feel like taking the time to shop. That is our best time to communicate :).

The waiting is so frustrating. With it - the hope. A great conversation, a day where he feels great. And then the slap in the face. Another complication - another hurdle. And resignation just settles in. I didn't understand the weight of it...

Faith in My Fathers

2009-05-27T18:02:00.000-07:00

As I contemplate the imminent passing of my dear dad - I am once again driven to seek my Heavenly Father. And have been brought again into the knowledge that it is only because of my dad that I have a relationship with my God.

My life has been blessed - sheltered even. And yet, I have continually sought to create difficulties - I enjoy the drama. Many of these difficulties were honestly not my own fault - I remember the pain that came with a track injury - and the frustration. How I hated not being able to run. I remember the anger and choices that came as secondary results... I remember throwing up after countless meals - hating the size I had become. I remember, vividly, words I said to drive my family and friends away. And I remember 'faking it' so that others would think I was fine - so I could wallow in my self contempt a little longer. These choices permeated much of my life - and I know are not uncommon. I was a pretty typical teenage girl.

And through all of it - I remember my father. I remember him picking me up from school and taking me to the counselor. I remember him at every track meet. I remember him praying for me - even as I scoffed at his God. Ever patient and loving. Constantly support - and guiding. Dad would not ignore my misbehavior - it was grievous and I know caused him much pain. And like our Heavenly Father - Dad would call me to be better - to be more of who I was. Yet he did it with such patient, accepting love.

Through his illness - he has had such integrity, such vitality. And in his illness, God has worked many miracles. These miracles forced me to face God - and finally accept. Because with an earthly father who so clearly points to a Heavenly one, accepting is truly coming home. And like the prodigal, it is open arms that wait for me every time.

And I think about the statement 3-6 months. I wonder - is this enough? Enough time to memorize the sound of his voice in my mind? To preserve his words, so quietly spoken and so wisely chosen? Enough for my children to have imprinted his face, his winking eyes? Enough time for me to find more of God? And the obvious answer is no - it just isn't. There is never really enough time. So trite, and so true.

And the truth is that I have known - I have imagined this day coming. I have imagined my mother without my father. I have soaked his presence up like the first rainfall... Yet when the reality becomes real - I have no idea how to face life without my father.

And so I cling to the faith he has led me to. The God who truly created my dad in His image has won my heart - because he gave me my father - exactly the one I needed. And the faith of my father will sustain the faith in my Father.

Pursuing Imperfection

2008-12-04T18:54:00.000-08:00

I have been so consumed with guilt, with failure, with self-loathing... I am amazed at how distinctly and deliberately I withhold grace from myself. How can someone as vile and disappointing be loved?

And yet the more I learn about grace - the more I realize that it is my imperfection that allows God to deliver grace. It is my failure that demonstrates my need for Him. So by seeking perfection rather than Christ, I am obviously and painfully missing the mark.

Yet - I still ask how - how can I do this, how can I make it happen... and really it isn't me that can do anything.

On other notes - Dexter absolutely loves kindergarten. He has a little buddy and they faithfully play Transformers every recess. His first conference squelched many of my remaining fears, at least for the week. Adeline is crawling and finally, finally getting teeth. Unfortunately several at once. She is a constant source of joy - such a happy disposition.

Conquering Kindergarten

2008-08-26T17:34:00.000-07:00

My son started school this week. And my new job allowed me the flexibility of dropping him off and picking him up on his first day. All the parents took their kiddos to the cafeteria, then waited until the teacher lined them up with their ‘duck tails’ behind them and they left us behind. And my son left me with the biggest grin on his face – waving with such excitement. And I thought – wow – here we go, a lifetime of leaving begins in this moment. He traipsed off down the hall, gleeful with 6 boys and 2 girls (half the class goes the 1st two days, then they all go then 3rd day). He is ecstatic about his class – 16 boys and only 6 girls. I am praying for his teacher. And all I could think was’ my little boy doesn’t need me.’ And I went to my office and cried.

When I picked him up, I had to glue myself to the car seat – parents are supposed to stay in their cars – and wait for him to be escorted. I managed to not scream out – 'did you discover how gifted he is', but simply smiled and said ‘I assume the day went well.' He delightedly crawled into the backseat and launched into a detailed explanation of the day – which started with 'no one had to move their name clip' and ended with ‘can I play video games’ and lasted about 15 seconds. No new best friends, no new insights into the world, just a genuine enjoyment. And a true anticipation for the next day.

Provision

2008-08-08T19:39:00.000-07:00

Ryan and I have been really struggling lately, financially, emotionally, etc. So we set out to truly seek ye first... and claim the Lord's promise of provision in our lives - not knowing what that would mean. So the last two weeks have been dedicated to allowing God to dictate what we need and when we need it. Yes, we think the house needs to sell, yes we think the customers need to pay their bills so we can pay ours... yes, we think our kids need to eat:). But maybe God knows better than us. So we devoted our prayers to giving up control. And what a two weeks it has been. Ryan figured out a way to save thousands a month in payroll - the Lord provided clarity. I changed my withholdings on my check - which boosted my check by a whole bunch - the Lord provided financially, Dexter's blood tests came back negative - the Lord provided health. Ryan and I have had some great prayer times - the Lord provided companionship. I gave up a deep, agonizing hurt that has burdened and debilitated me three years - and found forgiveness - the Lord provided release. And at the same time - each time we have gone to the post office, there has been money, just enough to pay the bills for that particular day.

Yet in spite of all of that, last night when I couldn't find the papers I need to complete Dexter's kindergarten registration - and spent most of the night awake in a fretful, control freak state, I couldn't trust the Lord to provide the simple things. Apparently in my life, He is only God of the big things:).

So, I am working on allowing God's provision to be what it is - we might not sell the house, but we might not need to. Dexter will go to kindergarten, and I will be okay. Forgiveness will continue to grow in my hurt - and the Lord will continue to provide. That does not mean everything will be fixed or easy - but He will provide what we need.

And in my heart of hearts - I hope that I continue to seek Him even when things are not overwhelming and desperate. But will seek Him in my thanksgiving and praise as well. What an amazing, loving God we serve!

Ooops...

2008-07-24T21:05:00.000-07:00

When trying to make a good first impression on your new job by planning a great first event and inviting really important people - it is important to get the dates right. Just putting that out there. So much for looking organized and efficient... now I'll try to pull off apologetic and humble:).

Sweet Melancholy

2008-07-18T20:52:00.000-07:00

My son has put his head under water! A major milestone for this summer - and tonight he went even further - diving for sticks under the water, and even touching the bottom. He was so proud of himself, and we all celebrated. Yet, I couldn't help thinking about him going to school this fall - and how much I have missed with him. So my joy was met with melancholy - and oppressive guilt. How can my failure be so palpable? And how can I protect my son and new daughter from the myriad of things that I am not?

Running on Empty

2008-07-07T20:29:00.000-07:00

Tonight I am still waiting for my second wind. It has been a couple hours since I finished the slowest two miles of my life. I was struck by how Phoebe must have looked more natural than I did (remember that Friends episode) as I ran beside the road - avoiding eye contact with any passing motorists. I had absolutely nothing inside of myself. So I modified my goal. Instead of finishing my mileage within a set time - my goal became simply to finish. As I struggled through the run, I kept thinking about how emblematic it was of my whole life - I simply have nothing left to give. I am waiting, desperately, for my second wind.

Lukewarm

2008-06-17T21:52:00.000-07:00

I am cognizant of the fact that I passionately pursue perfection in my profession (nice alliteration) - I yearn for relationship with my family and friends and rearrange schedules to make that so... yet what time and energy to I give to God? My quiet time is lacking. Even my desire to read the Word is lacking. This is a precarious position for my heart.

I AM

2008-06-12T21:14:00.000-07:00

I am: needy
I think: critically
I know: the difference between a digraph and a diphthong
I want: to love more freely
I have: an abudnantly patient husband
I wish: I was more patient
I hate: weakness
I miss: Sour Patch Kids
I fear: failure
I feel: timid
I hear: Dexter discussing underwear
I crave: Coke - from the can - I love the psssh sound
I search: for God's heart -and find my own
I wonder: will I lose my wanderlust
I regret: my selfish spirit
I ache: for my sadder students
I care: about appearing together
I always: second guess myself
I am not: overwhelmed with confidence
I believe: in extravagant love
I sing: loudly in the car by myself
I dance: also in the car, with routines
I cry: privately
I don't alway: succeed
I fight: my insecurity
I write: for myself
I never: wake up gracefully
I listen: to my own voices
I need: God's abundant grace
I am happy: that my husband just did the laundary!

ALISA

2008-06-12T16:49:00.000-07:00

She is: hilarious

She thinks: openly

She knows: my heart

She wants: to share her heart

She has: an adorable son

She wishes: she could drum on Rock Band

She hates: intolerance

She misses: ME:)

She fears: ladybugs

She feels: passionately

She hears: God's voice

She craves: Blizzards

She searches: for connections

She wonders: about everything

She regrets: cursing at Joan

She loves: completely

She aches: for others

She cares: about coordinating outfits

She always: lights up a room

She is not: selfish

She believes: in redemption

She sings: along to everything - and well!

She dances: with rthym

She cries: while laughing

She doesn't always: buffer her thoughts

She fights: her rebellious nature

She writes: the funniest blog in the world

She never: forgets my birthday

She listens: to the Lord

She needs: better pain medication

She is happy: often and with abandon

Turning Thirty

2008-06-11T22:08:00.000-07:00

So I adore my friends. Tonight they threw me a last day of being 29 party. Emily knew that I was loathing the concept of turning 30 - so they celebrated tonight for me. As we were discussing - I was bemoaning the fact that it isn't really the age I mind - it is the fact that I am so not the woman I wanted to be at this age - that I was going to be so much more, so many more items checked off of my life to-do list. So Gwen suggested that I make a list of what I am instead of a list of what I am not. So while I am not a professor - and have not yet reached a single goal -except for my weight - that I exceeded:( I am a great many things. So in an effort to encourage myself and wage a war on my self-loathing spirit, I will make a new list - a done list. All the things I am:

A wife - to a funny, hard-working, handsome man who lets me make lists - and then edits them for realistic expectations
A mother - to two good natured, happy, healthy children
A friend - to some amazing women (and men) who encourage me to find Christ in them and in myself
A daughter - such wonderful parents
A sister - how fun that I still love and like my siblings
A teacher - a calling that is more than I ever dreamed
A Reading Specialist - I do have a title - although I know enough to know that I know very little
A runner - speed doesn't matter, nor does frequency:) Satisfaction does. I still love to run.
A writer - in my own mind, if not in practice
An idealist - at work, at play, at home
Extravagantly loved - a Savior who takes me as I am - who seeks my heart - my mind, in all its vile discontent and soothes it - amazing

And so for my next major milestone - I set two goals.

1. To accept myself - I am who I am - I should celebrate myself

2. To not set goals that encourage defeat - to be realistic in my expectations. Ha:). That might not be realistic, but it sounds good.

Mary's Heart

2008-04-04T19:17:00.001-07:00

Had coffee with a dear friend last night - someone who is very, very good for me. We were discussing the Martha syndrome and Kate pointed out that it wasn't necessarily their actions, but their hearts that separated Mary from Martha. Martha's spirit was critical of Mary - Mary's heart was seeking Christ's. Martha could have served the Lord with love and passion - and that would have been honored. Soooo my goal for the week is to serve the Lord through my tasks. As Kate said - whatever I chose to do, I will choose to do with integrity - my tasks will become my alabaster jar. Thank the Lord for good friends!

Rejected

2008-03-30T18:46:00.000-07:00

Sooo... feeling very rejected just now. Seems that when I don't post any runs on my Nikeplus site, I get kicked out of online races. Apparently washing my sensor was a bad idea. Still, the rejection hurts. I really want to earn a trophy - something remains empty since my runner up high school track days. Perhaps running might help...

More than Martha

2008-03-28T18:12:00.001-07:00

My heartfelt desire is to serve Christ with a Mary heart... to rise above my Martha tendencies. It seems that my self-importance and to-do mentality pull me into places that consume me. So, as I grow in Christ and learn to find my identity in him, I seek to be much more than Martha - even though secretly I still feel she is greatly underrated.