Life

Run With Me, Not Away From Me …

R. Wallen, R.N.Leave a comment

I know and understand that we are not all meant to be the same. I get that we were born to be original versions of ourselves, that we all have our own paths in life, that we all have our own destinies to find, and our own plan that is already predetermined and laid out for us by our Creator. I believe that wholeheartedly. However, I when it comes to those that are closest to you, you would think that we would be somewhat closer or more similar, especially when it comes to your own children.

I have four children. Yep, that’s not a typo, I did say FOUR. 4! Three boys, and one girl, the youngest. All four similar to me, yet all different in their own right.

I would be lying if I didn’t say that I wished that they were MORE like me in some respects, yet I appreciate their individuality and their uniqueness. I can’t turn them into Mini Me’s, nor do I believe that I want them to be “just like me.” As they get older, it’s difficult to try and keep them on the the same path that I am on. Try as I might, I can only do and say so much to try and persuade them to stay on course with me.

I watch and listen to them formulate their own decisions. Some I let them make on their own, others I believe they are not quite old enough to decide for themselves yet. I can put my two cents in and gently guide them back on track, or if need be, I can assert my authority as their mother and let my upper hand rule for the time being. Sometimes they look at me as if I were crazy and didn’t know what I was talking about, but for the most part, for now, they don’t resist, they just roll their eyes or cop an attitude but do as told.

I can’t control what happens when they are not in my line of vision. I can’t control their thoughts or make them do anything. I understand peer pressure and the influences that their friends may have on them. I can, however, let them know about my experiences and my thoughts on the matter and hope and pray that they make wise choices and decisions.

I worry about their futures. I stress about the things that they are or may be exposed to. I worry about the kinds of friends they may have chosen for themselves. I harp on and constantly nag them about doing their homework and doing well in school, and about doing certain chores around the house. I wonder what kind of people they will grow up to be.

The truth is … I have no control over this. I can’t determine or see the future. I can’t wrap them up in bubble wrap to shield them from life’s unfairness and harsh realities. I can’t hold on to them so tightly that they would only recoil and land farther away from me when let go.

It makes me sad to know that time is flying past me so quickly. I find myself wondering when did it happen that had to start looking up so look into their eyes? So many times I find myself wishing that I could do more, would have done more, had been more patient, took more time off. Believe me … it breaks my heart to know that my time with them is so limited. On the outside I may appear so strong, yet on the inside it takes all that I have to hold myself together when it comes to them.

This is not exactly where I was going with this blog post. I was writing this because I was thinking, and I wanted to write that sometimes I wish that my children (or at least one) enjoyed running. Mind you, I am thankful for the times that my boys have ridden their bicycles or skateboards beside me as I ran. I just feel that I spend so much of my time on foot that if they were to actually run beside me, we could spend a few more precious moments together. Alas, NONE of my children find pleasure in running … only in running away from me as I heard my Nathan jokingly tell someone recently when asked if he ran. My children enjoy swimming, baseball, football, and jump roping. I have one that loves poker, another that enjoys skateboarding, and one that I have have dubbed my “GQ” boy. But … I am NOT complaining. I would not have them any other way. I enjoy them as they are – they are their own people. A different, better, more improved version of me and their father … I love them all dearly.

It is my desire that they find wisdom eventually in my nagging – do your homework, study hard, do your chores, be nice to people, save some money, etc. I hope that they eventually learn that what I do, what I have done, I do/have done for them. And I find comfort in knowing that if I *really* wanted them to … Really, really wanted them to … I could just ask them and they would run with me … and that one run would be enough to last me a long time.

– Posted using BlogPress from my RowPhone =]

As I Drive With My Mother

R. Wallen, R.N.Leave a comment

It never fails … no matter how “old” I may be, the minute that I am in the company of my mother, I revert back to the child that I once was – the ornery child, always with something to say but biting my tongue in an effort to lay low and remain out of trouble.

Yesterday was no exception.

Driving beside my mother always causes me to take a defensive position.  For one, there’s really no where to hide.  I’m stuck and I have to listen to her talk to me as if I am once again a child.  Not only that, but I also have to take driving directions from her even though I own my own cars and have been driving since I was 15 1/2 years old.

I love the conversations that we have, mostly one sided, with her doing the majority of the talking, me just nodding and acknowledging her with the occasional short answer knowing that if I say anything it will be the wrong thing anyway.

Me:  Sniffling.

My Mom:  Why are you sick?

Me:   I’m NOT sick, Mom.

My Mom:  You are. What do you call it then?  Watch out for that car.

Me:  I’m NOT sick, Mom, and I see the car.

My Mom:  You should take antibiotics.  The light is red.

Me: I saw the red light, and I was already getting ready to stop. I don’t need antibiotics, Mom.

My Mom:  You do.

Me:   Mom, I know I don’t need them.  I’m a nurse.

My Mom:  I have some at home that you can take. It starts to sprinkle. Turn your wipers on.  The light is green, go.

Me:  I turn my wipers on and I have already started to go. Mom, you need to finish taking those when they give it to you.

My Mom:  Oh, I do, I just keep asking my doctor to refill it and I keep it until I need it.

Me:  I shake my head. Don’t do that, Mom.  You can’t just take antibiotics, they’re for specific illnesses.  One day you’ll really need them and they won’t work because you keep taking them.

My Mom:  What do you mean they won’t work?  Don’t you know that antibiotics kill infections, they will always work.  She sighs then changes the subject. You’re too skinny. I don’t think you’re eating enough and that’s one reason why you’re sick.

Me:  Mom, I’m not skinny, I am fit.  No, you’re too skinny.  Mom, I weigh xxx lbs.

My Mom:  What?  How can you be heavier than I am?  You are driving too fast.

Me:  I’m not driving fast enough. Mom, I’m muscular.

My Mom:  You need to eat.

Me:  Mom, I do eat.  I eat a lot.

My Mom:  I don’t think that you do.  I don’t think that you take care of yourself.

Me:  My eyebrows are raised at this point and I sigh deeply to myself.

My Mom:  You should stop exercising so much.  You’re already too skinny.

Me:  Mom, I’m not skinny.  I eat enough.  I am healthy because I eat good and because I workout.  I’m not sick.

My Mom:  I don’t think so, Rowena.  You’re already doing too much – working, taking care of your kids.  You don’t have time to workout.  Watch out for that car.  Brake!

Me:  There’s no reason for me to brake, I’m not going to hit anything. Mom …

At this point some update on Egypt or Libya comes on the radio …

My Mom:  Oh, my God.  Make sure you buy gas, pretty soon it will be over $4.00/gallon.  Be sure you stock up on food, too.

Me:  Mom, we’re not going to run out of gas or food.

My Mom:  How do you know?  Look at all the earthquake in New Zealand.  You never know what’s going to happen.

Me:  Mom, if we do, I’ll just ride my bicycle.

My Mom:  What about your kids?

Me:  Mom, they can ride their bikes too, and they’re not going to starve.

My Mom:  Don’t worry, I’ve been stock piling rice and other things.  You’re driving too close to that car.

Me:  I’m not driving too close to anyone. Mom, you shouldn’t buy so much food.  Just buy enough for yourself.  Food has an expiration date.

My Mom:  Pretty soon we will have another World War 3.

Me:  Mom, why are you worrying about that?

My Mom:  I have to worry about that.  You should worry about that also.

Me:  I’m not worried, Mom.

My Mom:  I should buy a new car. We are driving my Dad’s 2004 Mercedes that never gets driven.  She’s talking about her 1994 Nissan Maxima.

Me:  Mom, you don’t need a new car, just drive this one.

My Mom:  I can’t drive this one around.  Can you imagine if I drove this car to bingo?  Someone would think I had money and follow me out and rob me.  Joel (my brother) doesn’t think that I should drive it.

Me:  No one is going to rob you, Mom.  Just drive this one.  At this point I’m irritated that she doesn’t get that just because you own a Mercedes that you should just leave it in the garage.  Cars are meant to be driven!  It’s also pissing me off that my brother would believe that someone would harm our mother because of the kind of car she drives and tells her not to drive it. If you’re not going to drive it, Mom, then you should sell it and get a different car.

My Mom:  Now she’s irritated with ME! I can’t sell this car, it’s your Dad’s car!  Why would I sell it?  This is a luxury car, don’t you know that?  Your Dad loved this car, it was his dream to own it.  I can’t just drive it to bingo or to the grocery store.

Me:  I’m counting because I’m seething.  I can’t say what really I really want to say because that would be disrespectful, right?  I’m going to just keep my mouth shut!  Whatever.  She doesn’t get that “average” people own Mercedes nowadays, not just “rich” people.

At this point we are at our destination and I can’t wait to get out of the car.  It has only been a short drive, but it feels like the longest 20 minutes of my life.

Listen … The relationship that I have with my mom has not been an easy one and I get a lot of flack from others who don’t understand how difficult it has been for me because they have not walked in my shoes.  It has only been recently that my mother and I have reconnected.  I have come to accept that our relationship has not been perfect, nor will it ever be.  As an adult with children, I know now that she raised me as best as she knew how.  Much of what happened to me as a child is still difficult to swallow, but I believe that I have forgiven her for whatever shortcomings, faults, differences that I believe that she has had.  The best thing about being an adult, for me, is that I am free to keep to myself, stay in my own home, choose when to call her, and that I don’t have to see her or talk to her everyday.  I can say, “No” and not feel a lick of guilt.

I understand that commandment that says, “Thou shall honor thy father and mother.”  I get it, and I do for the most part.  I believe, though, that within that commandment, there is an understanding that parents should love and respect their children also.  I don’t believe that parents should be dictators as my mother was.  I believe that they should raise their children to be the best that they can be. asking their opinions, and actually talking to them instead of just telling them what to do.  I understand that parenting is by no means an easy job, but being a child and growing up is not easy either.  There’s so much to learn, and one learns best when their leader is open and guides.

I was always one who really, seriously wished that I had different parent  It’s not worth it to rehash my past, but I believe that the memories of my childhood are filled more with unhappy memories and I struggle to remember any happy ones.  It’s sad that I have such difficulty doing so.  I have asked my brothers what they recollect and what their memories and perceptions of things that have happened are, and their versions so very different from mine, so I keep my mouth shut and my memories to myself.  Funny how siblings can grow up in the same household with the same parents, etc., and our perceptions and memories differ vastly.

This much I know is true:  I am an adult that reverts back to that part of my childhood when in the presence of my mother, which means that I have a tendency to shut down and just let her do and say what she does and says to me.   I also know that it is because of my experiences, I am the person that I am today – this includes how I respond to my children and how I mother them.  I know that I am a much different mother to my children because of my mother.  The relationship that I have with my own children is FAR different that the relationship that I could ever hope to have with my own mother.

I know that no one escapes their childhood without a few scrapes and bruises.  No childhood is perfect.  We all have issues in some way, shape or form and that’s what makes us all unique. But life goes on, and eventually we must all learn to be our own person outside of our parents homes.  We need to understand that we are NOT our parents, we are our own selves.  We need to let go of whatever has happened, and move forward, knowing that we were exposed to certain things to help make us who we are today.  We also need to understand that our parents, for the most part, did the best that they could with what they knew.  The best revenge for that unhappy inner-child of ours is to acknowledge him/her, and let them know that they are now safe, and that life is good, and that you and the children that you have are all okay.  Then go get some ice cream for the both of you!

I Workout So I Can Eat Whatever I Want – Fact or Fiction?

R. Wallen, R.N.Leave a comment

I’m not going to lie … I am like every other woman who wishes that there was a Magic Pill that would keep the body in shape without working out, to allow me to eat whatever I wanted without gaining an ounce, to keep the wrinkles and gray hair at bay, and to keep me healthy. Fountain of youth? I know that that doesn’t exist so I am not even going to start dreaming about it! I’m just looking for the lazy way … but the lazy way doens’t exist either!

Thankfully though, I am one of those women who has been blessed with athletic abilities. I believe that once I was released from my mother’s womb, I hit the ground running. I started walking at 9 months old. I ran my first track meet in the 4th grade. I dabbled in gymnastics, ran high school varsity track and cross country. I have a black belt in Krav Maga. I have participated in and have taught kickboxing classes. I have run 10Ks, half-marathons, and even a couple marathons. I am proud to say that I AM a very accomplished athlete.

My difficulties lie in that 1) I’m getting a little older, and 2) I like to eat – not a lot, but I do get caught with my hand in the proverbial cookie jar more times than it should be in there! The getting older part, I can’t do anything about. But that part is only numbers. I don’t feel the number that I am, and, if truth be told, I am better than those with numbers smaller than or less than mine. It’s just hard to believe that I am over 40! I laugh when I think about that … when did that happen?!? The eating part, I can change. I cannot change that which I do not acknowledge … therefore, let me acknowledge my weakness now.

My name is Row., and I am HUMAN.

I like to eat. Not junk food, per se, but snacking on those which are not that great for an (slowly) aging body. I love bread and pasta. I love pastries – namely Apple Danishes from Toot Sweets, and Cinnamon Sour Cream or Blueberry Muffins. I DON’T eat them everyday, but I lie to myself when I do eat them. I try to tell myself that eating one will not harm me, and it won’t, but I have to work EXTRA hard to work it off, and most times I don’t do the extra work that is necessary. I forget the mantra, “A moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips.” I understand that I am the only one in control of what goes into my mouth. I cannot lay blame on anyone because no one is forcing me to eat the things that I do. However … there are the occasional sabateurs …. Ha! I won’t blame them either!

It’s a joke to tell yourself that you workout so that you can eat whatever you want. It’s a waste to workout if all you’re going to do is eat crap. If you’re not seeing the changes that you want, or if you’re seeing changes that you don’t want, most likely it’s because your nutrition sucks! Bottom line is, if you eat crap and workout, you’re still going to look like crap! Nutrition is a big part of fitness. We need to remember to eat to live versus living to eat. Fitness alone will NOT solve my “problems.”

So here to day … I acknowledge my weakness and my desire to change this behavior. When I choose to eat badly, I will make up for it in the gym by working out harder or longer. I intend to make better choices because most times it’s just NOT worth the extra effort that must be put out to work it off! Seriously … to “have to” run 2 miles to work off one doughnut … Yeah, no!!! I’d rather do the best that I can to “keep it clean” and out of my mouth! I CAN do it, I know that I CAN!!!

(Reposted from an my old blogsite 12/7/2009)

Dear 14 Year Old Row.

R. Wallen, R.N.1 Comment

*I love this song by P!nk!  It’s amazing, with a  poignant message, and everyone should heed it.   I know that you can’t view this video on my blog, but PLEASE, watch it on YouTube.  It’s worth the time.  Trust me …

Many, many years ago I was 14 years old. I can see myself as if it were yesterday. The geeky girl with no fashion sense. I was a wallflower, so ordinary that I literally blended into the background, never really seeing anything special about myself. Never being one who called attention to myself, I was quiet for the most part until you got to know me. I had a mother who proclaimed me “ugly” and a “mistake.”

Fast forward to today … almost thirty years later … to remember all of this and to write it down brings tears to my eyes. I look in the mirror and try to convince myself that I have since healed that part of my past, but I see my inner 14 year old self and I feel that hurt all over again, reminding me that I’m not yet completely healed. If I could go back and talk to me, I think of all the words that I would love to say. I would like to write a letter now and tell that 14 year old girl all that I know now …
1984 - I was 15 in this picture.Dear 14 Year Old Row.,

Wow. What an amazing young girl you are. You can’t see it yet because you are slightly clouded by everything that’s happening and hurting you at this moment.

First of all, your mother is DEAD WRONG. DON’T believe her, Row. Please, plug your ears, and don’t listen! You are NOT a mistake, maybe unplanned, yes, but not a mistake. You were placed here on this Earth for a reason. You will make a difference in many lives. And as for being ugly … think twice about that. Look closely in the mirror. Look inward and you will see that you are far from being ugly. You WILL transform into a beautiful woman. Trust me on this one.

Study hard in school. Do your homework. You are a very smart girl with so much potential, you just lack direction and guidance. You will find that you are capable of , and so much smarter than you give yourself credit for. You know what you want to do, who you want to be … DO IT. Don’t let people talk you out of it. You’ve always known … your heart has been telling you for years now. Don’t be afraid to go away to college … it’ll be a great adventure. And college is cake!

The children you desire to have are amazing! Oh my God, are they ever beautiful and so amazing. You carry your children within you well, and you are a good mother … so different from your own. Better, stronger, wiser. You are close to your children, and your children trust you. Don’t ever question why you were blessed … just know that you are. Know that you were blessed with them for a very good reason … just know that YOU ARE the BEST mother for them.

Never stop moving. Keep running, cycling, exercising, working out. You will find workouts fuel you. Without it, you are not you. By the way, you look AMAZING in your 40s, than most do in their 20s – just so you know.
 
As for the boys that passed you up … too bad for them. Know that they were NOT the ones for you. There will be many that come and go, that break your heart (and you break some, too) … just know that they are all leading you to the love of your life. You WILL become the woman that will turn heads, and make those boys wish that they hadn’t passed you up. He’s awesome, by the way, your husband. Everything you ever wanted in a man/husband. You are a good wife, and you have a great relationship. Not perfect, but no relationship is ever perfect. 
 
Keep writing. You love writing. Make your lists, write down your dreams, all of your goals and aspirations. Keep sending your friends snail mail. Your words are so impactful, thoughtful, meaningful. Your written words come to life, and people love how you write with feeling and sincerity.
 
Be happy. Life has a tendency to weigh hard on your Libra scales, tipping them off balance at times. Just know that you are so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. Mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually you are “balanced” … You ARE stronger than you believe. You bounce back quickly, and get yourself back on track. Ride out the rough patches and believe that all will be well. Always look on the positive side, and watch how you react to things.
 
You ARE beautiful. I know it’s hard to see it now, but you are. Even at 14 you are beautiful, but we’re spending too much time comparing ourselves to people and girls who don’t matter. Yes, they’re beautiful, but so are you! When you believe it, you will see it … you will see YOU and just how gorgeous you are. We are all beautiful in our own way, Baby. We are not meant to look like everyone else. You are beautiful as you, and you only get better. Really.  I’m not kidding …
 
Believe in yourself. You are strong, smart, powerful, capable, beautiful. You ARE. No matter what anyone else tells you, YOU ARE. What they think doesn’t matter, as long as you believe in YOU.  You posess a mental toughness and a tenacity that is to be rivaled.  You are resilient!  You are a very tough cookie! Don’t let anyone tell you that you aren’t or that you can’t. Your mind is powerful, and I have seen it in action, taking you to places that you have never dared believe. Believe. You have to believe in something whole heartedly first before it can happen. ALWAYS BELIEVE in yourself!!!
 
Love yourself. Really. This is important. YOU matter. You are important; very important. But you have to love yourself. Look in the mirror and tell yourself that you are loved, even if it’s only by you at that moment. As long as you can look into your own eyes and tell yourself that, you’re good. What everyone else thinks or believes means nothing as long as you have self-love, Baby.
 

Your life is good. You *really* have a very good life. You are happy, healthy, self-sufficient, self-motivated, goal oriented, independent, strong, beautiful, smart, funny … You are a good woman. Really, and you life is very, very good. You are very, very BLESSED!

Oh, Row., had I known all of these things then at 14, we would not have wasted so much time fretting and crying about it … But I know now that every thing, every person, every experience has all brought me to the place where we are at today. We are *exactly* who we are supposed to be, with the people who we are supposed to be with, doing what we are supposed to do … Know that. All of the answers that you seek are inside of you. You already know all of the answers. You already know.

Know that God does not make any mistakes.  You have a purpose.  You have meaning.  You have a reason.  And remember that God answers all prayers – be it yes, no, not yet, or I have something better in store for you.  Trust.

Live life. Have fun. We’re gonna be okay, really. I love you dearly, 14 year old Row. Row. Take care of us. I’ll see you when you get to me … 

Love, Row. at 422011

 

P.S. Don’t worry … you’ll be able to reach the pedals of any car that you choose.  You’ll be able to drive, okay?  Stop worrying about that!

The Power of a GREAT Workout

R. Wallen, R.N.1 Comment

I’ve always known it.  As a child, I loved running, riding my bicycle, climbing, jumping, playing sports, and doing just about anything physical.  It is inbred, ingrained, so natural and deep within me.  My “need” for physical exertion has always … ALWAYS been a huge part of who I am, and of who I have always been. Without that physical exertion, I am not me.  I am lethargic, become depressed, cranky, moody … that person that NO ONE cares to be around.  It is the reason my family lets me do what I need to do … because they know that, “If Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.”

There IS power in a great workout.  I have always known this.  It is as if I am able to purge all of my pain, frustrations, and what-nots out through my pores via my sweat, and through all the grunts and groans of my physical exertion … leaving it all on the floor, so to speak. I am able to transcend while working out. I know … I can see you rolling your eyes now, but it’s true. I’ve done it on more than one occasion … I am able to get myself into such a state, into that zone, where I am there, yet I’m not. I love that. Absolutely LOVE that feeling!

Exercise is my drug of choice.  It is my religion, my sanctuary.  It is my outlet and it fuels me.  I am happiest and most relaxed after a great workout. They say that exercise is for those that cannot handle drugs or alcohol. I believe that wholeheartedly.  I crave the endorphin rush – that is the BEST high, and I wish that everyone loved that kind of healthy high versus highs or the blunting of their emotions and pain obtained via illegal substances or by alcohol.  I believe that the world would be a much better, and a much happier place.

It’s so disheartening to me that so many individuals don’t take the time to get a good workout in.  Thirty minutes is all that it would take.  It saddens me, no, let me be honest, it infuriates me when I hear excuse after excuse as to why one can’t or doesn’t workout.  I don’t understand our society – when did we stop being active?  When did people become so sedentary? Getting older doesn’t mean that you can’t be fit. Having children doesn’t mean that you have stop being active and become a fat mom or dad. It’s the time to be the example for your child!  People are so quick to blame MacDonald’s … Ummm … Hello?  I don’t believe MacDonald’s was physically force feeding anyone! Take responsibility for your own health, people! Face it and get real!  It’s never too late! Never. Small changes made consistently can make BIG differences.

While at my Physical Therapy appointment today, something my therapist had posted on his bulletin board, caught my eye.  I was so inspired by what I read, that I took a photograph of it so that I could remember what it said. In it’s entirety, I have it here for you to peruse.

Written by former NFL Washington Redskins Coach, George Allen, may it motivate and inspire you as it has me.

What Is A Workout?

A workout is 25 percent PERSPIRATION and 75 percent DETERMINATION.  Stated another way, it is one part physical exertion and three parts self-discipline.  Doing it is easy once you get started.

A workout makes you better today than you were yesterday.  It strengthens the body, relaxes the mind, and toughens the spirit.  When you workout regularly, your problems diminish and your confidence grows.

A workout is a personal triumph over laziness and procrastination.  It is the badge of a WINNER — the mark of an organized, goal oriented person who has taken charge of his or her destiny.

A workout is a wise use of time and an INVESTMENT in excellence.  It is a way of preparing for life’s challenges and proving to yourself that you have what it takes to do what is necessary.

A workout is a key that helps unlock the door to OPPORTUNITY and SUCCESS.  Hidden inside each of us is an extraordinary force.  Physical and mental fitness are the triggers that can release it.

A workout is a form of REBIRTH.  When you finish a workout, you don’t simply feel better, YOU FEEL BETTER ABOUT YOURSELF!

So … Who’s ready to come workout with Row.??? NO EXCUSES!!! Let’s goooooo …

Bedside Confessionals

R. Wallen, R.N.Leave a comment

He said to me, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I have been a bad person.”

I answered that he hadn’t been, that it was okay because he was so sick and that I understood.

He repeated, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.  I have not been a good person.  I don’t wanna go like this.”

It took me a minute to determine what he was getting at as I continued to assure him that I understood.  I asked him questions to make sure all of his faculties were intact: Do you know where you are? What’s the date today? Who’s the President of the US? He answered all of the questions correctly, and continued to apologize for being so awful.

“I have never been a good person,” he states. “I tried hard, but it just never felt as if I did enough, or if what I did made a difference. And now here I am, and I don’t think I’m gonna make it.”

It’s amazing how the feeling that you’re dying can cause one to confess.  You don’t care to whom you confess to, just that you get it out before you go.  Although most patients that I have encountered have not passed after confessing, I am sad to say that I have had a few that have.  

I can’t say what exactly goes through one’s mind when they are in such a state that they feel as if they are going to die, or when they feel as if they just know that they are going to die.  I know many who say that they will take certain secrets to their grave, never letting anyone know, but there are few that feel an urgent need to confess and tell someone, anyone who will listen to their deepest, darkest secrets as if keeping them inside will prevent them from getting to the Promised Land.  As a nurse, I have been (un)fortunate to have heard a few. 

From who they loved, or did not love enough.  What they did, to what they should not have done.  What they wish they had said, or didn’t say.  Or just a wish to have their hand held because they are alone and don’t want to go while they are alone.  It makes me wonder … what will you confess when you believe it’s your turn to meet your maker?  Better yet … what will I confess when I believe that it’s my turn … ???

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Defining “Row.”

R. Wallen, R.N.1 Comment

It’s late and I’m brooding.  I’m still so disappointed with my less than stellar performance at the Nike Women’s Marathon.  I know that on the outside I smile, and tell everyone that I’m okay.  I believe that that’s what most want to hear because I really don’t want to know what would happen should I just blurt out that I’m actually not okay, that I am actually very disappointed in myself, and that I’m not happy.  I don’t want others to feel sorry for me or pity me.  I don’t want any special treatment.  It’s just how I feel.  But I lie because it’s just not worth listening to everyone tell me how great I did, what my accomplishments are, etc., or seeing that look of shock on their faces.  I lie because I am embarassed at how I feel, and because I am ashamed that I would even think this way.

It’s crazy to define myself by a marathon finishing time.  It’s just a number.  It has nothing to do with who I am, it’s just a number.  A marathon finishing time is something that I have done, it is by no means who I am.  Why would I do this to myself?  Am I that shallow that I would let that number affect me in the way that it has?  It’s so hard for me to be positive about this whole experience that I cried.  I cried.  I never cry!  What does this mean?

I believe that much of this stems from my upbringing.  My mother had very high expectations of me, most of which I never lived up to.  Therefore, this means that you can only imagine what kind of trouble I got into.  It would not behoove anyone to rehash the past, or to blast my upbringing.  It is what it is, and what’s done is done.  I can’t go back and change anything.  Just know that the expectations were VERY HIGH, and to not live up to them was painful – physically, mentally, and emotionally.

I believe that I’m waiting for that slap and that verbal lashing that I received when things went wrong in the past.  I know that it’s not coming, but in a sense it is as I am giving it to myself.  What has happened is that the expectations that I have for myself are so high that when I don’t reach the expected goal, I am giving myself the lashing that I believe that I deserve.

What’s happened to me?  I am no longer that small, helpless child.  I am an adult with a family of my own, a grown woman.  Can I not see this?  Is that inner child of mine still looking for recognition and acceptance from my parents?  I love my inner child.  I’ve worked so hard to tell that child that she has always been loved and accepted by me.  I’ve talked to that little girl until I’m blue in the face, about how our parents did the best that they could with what they had, and expressed their love to the best of their ability.  I thought she knew.  I believe that she does know, it’s just that sometimes she has a little regression.  My inner child knows that she’s safe, and she understands, but she’s a kid and she needs constant reminders.  I’m an adult and deep down inside of me, it still hurts.

I can’t seem to change what I know is irrational.  I can tell my children, I can tell others, and I can convince myself for a minute, but ultimately I remember only what I learned as a child … that what I did was not good enough, that I should have worked harder, etc.

What does it say about me that I am so disappointed with my time?  Does that mean that I think less of those that finished around the same time or later than me?  Ahhhhhhh …. NO, that’s not what I said, nor is that what I implied.  I said that I was disappointed in MYSELF, no one else.  I am happy that there were so many out there, running, braving the elements, and finishing!  The time was only important to ME!  I am proud and happy for those that ran, gutted out that bad boy, and finished!  Please don’t confuse that or put words in my mouth.

So what defines me?  I really don’t know, do you?  I’m Row.  Smart.  Beautiful.  Selfish.  Strong willed.  Strong bodied.  Strong of faith.  Mother of four kiddos.  Married to a great guy.  ER Registered Nurse.  Runner.  Marathoner. Work-out-a-holic.  Gym Rat.  Black belt in Krav Maga.  Reader.  Writer.  Do these things define me?  I would think not as these are things that I do or believe that I am.

So … what, then, would define me?  How would one define oneself?  Does anyone know?   Can anyone help me define “Row.”?

Forty-Two

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Birthday Girl at El Torrito

I can only laugh when I think about how “old” I *really* am … 42 … seriously?  42?  When did this happen?  How did this happen?  Wow!!!

I don’t feel “old.”  I certainly don’t believe that I look “‘old.”  So I wanna know how this happened without me knowing it?!?

I can still remember being a kid and thinking that 30 was “old.”  I remember talking about the year 2000 in 5th grade and the teacher telling us that we would be 32 years old, and I immediately thought, “No way!”  Wow!   This is amazing!!!

What do I know about me now that I’m at this point in my life?  I know that I am still the same person, just a little more refined, a little smarter, a lot stronger and more resilient than I ever believed that I could be.  And I’m happy.

My childhood best friend, Joan, is STILL my Soul’s Twin, and I STILL love her dearly and keep in touch with her.

I’m still athletic.  I’m still in great shape for my age and I’m proud to say that I can out do many who are younger than I am.  I’ve become a better runner than I ever was as a child, maybe not faster runner (yet), but a better, smarter runner.

I love my life.  I love my husband, Chris, and I love being married to him.  I have four children that I am so very proud of and that I adore with all of my heart.  I couldn’t ask for a better family.  They’re awesome!

I have a career that I actually enjoy and that suits my personality, as well as provides me with a great salary.

I have far exceeded any expectations that I had for myself as a child … and I continue to amaze and outdo myself everyday!  More importantly, I have exceeded and excelled in life when some believed that I would NOT!!!  To those individuals who did not believe in me … Kiss my a$$!

I don’t believe that I have changed much.  I’m really still the same ole Row.  Still funny, and sarcastic, short.  Still crazy.

I know that I am blessed.  I am thankful to have been blessed with as many years as I have been blessed with.  I am thankful for my health, strength, positive outlook, boundless energy, many wonderful, happy memories, wealth.  I am thankful for my family and friends.  Oh so many things to be thankful and feel blessed for!

42 … wow!  I still can’t fathom that I have been on this Earth for *that* long!  Wow!  Just, “Wow!”  Happy Birthday to me!

Priceless

R. Wallen, R.N.1 Comment

Running … It’s supposed to be “free,” right?  You’d think it would at least be cheap or inexpensive, but in reality it’s not.

If you just get out and run, just run, then, yes, it’s free.  You don’t worry about anything … you just get out there or jump on a treadmill and go.  But once there’s an inkling that you want to get serious, this is where things can get a little pricey.  Let’s see …

Good shoes, not just any old pair of shoes that you can pick up at the local department or sporting goods store.   You have to remember that your feet take the bulk of the pounding and stress when you are run running.  They deserve protection.  They deserve to have some good money spent on them.  Spend the time to get your gait analyzed so you know which shoe is best for you.  Try them all on and make sure they’re comfortable.  And when you find that perfect pair, getting a second pair is suggested when you’re really putting the mileage in.

Inserts are necessary for some runners like me who have issue with their feet such as plantar fascitis.  Sometimes, the inexpensive inserts will work well, but with the mileage that I put in and the degree of my injury, the inexpensive inserts were not the best choice for me.  Inserts can range in price, and must be researched well in order to find the perfect fit just as shoes.

Running attire – sure, running really doesn’t call for special attire if you’re just going out for a jog, but if you’re a serious runner, you know then that cotton is rotten, and some articles of clothing don’t make the best running attire.  Take into consideration the weather, sweat factor.  Dri fit is not cheap.  When it’s raining, you need a jacket.  Hats for sun and protection.  Special socks that don’t cause blisters.  Sports bras that hold boobs into place and provide support.  Shorts for the summer.  Capris or long tights for the cooler weather.  Compression socks for recovery.  Compression gear for maximum performance.

Body Glide to help prevent chafing.  Sunblock for obvious reasons.  Lip balm.  Tape for muscles, like my favorite RockTape.

Special GPS watches – if you’re serious about tracking your runs.  Maybe a heart rate monitor.

Gym memberships for those that don’t have access to a treadmill, and for workouts that need to be done aside from just running.

iPods to provide you with music for your run.  Don’t forget headphones – may they be wireless or corded, finding the right ones can prove to be a challenge.

Nutrition – not just what you eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.  But actual nutrition for your run – Gu, Power Gels, Gatorade, Powerade, protein shakes, and whatever else you may want to eat while you’re out there for hours at a time. Remember that as an athlete, you must fuel your body with good nutrition for breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks.  Supplements may be required to assist in meeting our nutritional goals.

Doctors and Chiropractors that keep us healthy and able to run.  They can be costly, but so worth it.  Massage Therapists or a masseuss to knead the kinks out and keep our muscles supple.  Foam rollers, ice packs, muscle rubs, ace wraps … don’t forget to add those in.  Unfortunately, for some, physical therapy is needed to aid in recovery from serious injuries.

Books and magazines to learn about your sport.  Library is cheap and free, and so are articles on the internet.

Race fees – once you get serious, it’s good to have a goal and signing up for a race is a good way to keep on track by training for your goal.  Remember to factor in the cost of travel and sometimes lodging to run these races.

Coaching and training plans for those of us who need to be directed and guided, and kept accountable.

Ah … so many things to consider.  It’s such a great sport and it’s all worth it.  When it comes right down to it, it’s all worth the monetary cost that I put into it.  But the payment is more than just monetary … the payment comes in the form of the time that is paid when putting in training, the blood, sweat, and tears!  I know that there is more to it than just lacing up a pair of shoes and going out running …  All this, to me, is worth it.  I am thankful and blessed to be able to afford what I can.  I believe that what I get out of the sport far exceeds any monetary cost that I must pay.  There is so much that a monetary value cannot be placed.  The friendships that I have made.  The feeling of accomplishment that I get from completing a race.  All of it is priceless …

Pennies From Heaven

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It never fails.  Everyday when I set out to leave on an outdoor run, my daughter says to me, “Mom, remember to pick up the pennies that see for me.”  I never think anything about it.  I just smile, and tell her that, “If I find any, I will.”  And that’s that … she kisses me goodbye and I’m off and running.

Ever since I was a small child, I’ve been intrigued by money.  I’ve always been a saver, and to this day, I have several jars and piggy banks filled with coins and even dollar bills.  It’s just by habit now that I empty out all of my pockets and that of my husband’s and put everything in a jar.  My dollar bills all face the same way in my wallet, and I always pick up any amount that I find on the ground.  It’s a habit that has yielded me quite a large sum!  It’s a habit that I learned from my father, and have now passed onto my own child.

I cannot help but smile when I find a coin and pick it up.  I can hear her call out, “Money magnet, Mom!”   So I diligently keep an eye out for those coins, and happily hand them over as she comes toward me when I walk through the door after a run.  To some they are just mere bothersome little pennies, but to us they’re lucky pennies.  Pennies that we feel are given to us from Heaven.

“Imagine,” my oldest son once said to me, “that if you didn’t pick up that penny.  What would happen if you only needed that one penny to be a millionaire, but you didn’t pick it up.  You would only have $999,999.99.  You will have wished that you would have picked it up.”

The little things that make one happy, that eventually add up and make one feel rich.  Never discount the power of the penny.