One of these days I will learn to not be so long winded when I write. One of these days I will be able to just get to the point without all this going around in circles. I should learn to conserve my energy, as I try to do while running. Instead I think “too much,” and have so much to say for someone who really doesn’t have much to say …
One of these days I may surprise you, but I highly doubt it …
Things Reminiscent of My Childhood
Running amok from sun up to sun down.
Teaching myself how to ride a bicycle. Many thanks to my neighbor, Paige, who let me borrow her bike.
My yellow, banana seat bicycle. “The Rascal.”
Spending summers with my beloved Grandma in San Francisco.
Japanese paper wallets – and stashing as much cash as I could “save” in them.
Pee Chee folders, and newsprint tablet paper.
Reading anything and everything.
Grape Bubble Yum, Pixie Stix, and Jolly Rancher Cherry Sticks!
Mrs. Corpus and her encouragement. Best & still my favorite teacher EVER!
Cherry Kool Aid and Grape Tang!
Saturday morning cartoons.
Summer vacation from June to September!
Being the fastest girl runner in my classes.
Junior Olympics, running track.
Wondering if I would ever grow tall enough to reach the pedals of a car so I can drive.
No worries. No cares. Just being a kid trying to grow up. My “problems” were so different that what kids have now. Enjoy your childhood. Be a kid. Don’t be in such a rush to grow up so fast!
Wow … Where do I begin with this post? The Festival 500 Indy Mini Marathon. This half marathon was chosen on a whim. I saw it, I
thought about it, I asked my husband if it would be okay, then I registered. I didn’t put that much thought into it which I should have. I know!
Everyone always asks me, “Why Indianapolis?” Well, the answer is easy … my brother, Joe, lives in Indy, so I made it a run with a dual purpose – visit my brother and run a half while I’m there! I hadn’t been to Indy since 2006, and since then my brother has bought a new house and has a new girlfriend, etc. The decision to go was easy, just the logistics was not, but I made it work. I was fortunate enough that my husband had some frequent flier mileage that he got on his new SouthWest Visa Card, and that my daughter’s ticket was fairly inexpensive. So we were off on a girl’s adventure!
We left on a Monday so we had plenty of time before the race on Saturday. We didn’t do much while in Indy, just hung around my brother’s house because he had to work and it would’ve been crazy to ask him to take vacation days off to spend time with us. Besides, I didn’t want to do much other than chill out, and neither did Grace (she just didn’t know it then). We loaded up of groceries and necessities and just holed up for a few days! It was nice to just do nothing!
My brother and his girlfriend, Lucy, did take the day off on Friday so we could explore the expo. The expo was held at the Indianapolis Convention Center as it was a large event with many (try 30,000 runners). Packet pickup was well organized. They sent out postcards with our bib numbers already on them, so all one had to do was head to the correct line with your bib #. Fast and easy. I always love perusing the vendors at the marathon expos. They almost always have great deals and there are always good race discounts. The last time I went to one, I entered all of the drawings because my running BFF did, and I ended up winning a bunch of stuff so I did it again, and once again won a bunch of stuff – Free pizza, a boat trip down the Ohio River, a stay at a resort,
water bottle, etc. Not bad. It was while I was at the expo that I learned that one of my Twitter buds, @alamarcavada, was running this event. Unfortunately, I was literally walking out as she was walking in, so we didn’t get to meet. We were able to exchange numbers and were going to meet at the start or at the finish for sure! I wanted to meet @halftrain while I was there also, but that didn’t happen either!
Carb loading happened at one of my favorite places … Buca di Beppo! Love that place … tons of carbs, and more carbs. The food is awesome, and you know that carbs and I are BFFs … well, except my hips don’t think so! Lol! Oh well … I love their food! The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. My brother and Lucy took out Grace and I just chillaxed some more after I laid out my race gear.
Race day, game face on! Heehee! It started at about 0500 I had my ususal reheated Starbucks Mocha (Triple, tall, NF, no whip), and my toasted bagel with peanut butter. Start time was 0700 and we weren’t sure about parking downtown, so we left at 0600. Parking was not an issue. Downtown Indy had lots of parking! There were TONS of runners and spectators. I expected chaos, but surprisingly there was NONE! I thought I’d get lost trying to find the start, but I didn’t. Everything
was well marked, no one was panicking. I met a really nice lady while waiting to use the porta potty who told me that this was her 10th Indy Mini race. That was another thing … there were tons of porta-potties! When I had to go right before my corral reached the start, there was no issue, no long ass line like there usually is at races!
I was in Corral M … so you can imagine how many people there are. The corrals are arranged in the order that you registered, NOT by how fast you are. I registered “late” in November for this race. I loved how there was time to warm up and get acclimated to the weather, and how my family could find me easily. I love how we played beach ball while we waited at the start! It was fun!
I was worried about running “alone,” however, I was able to spot a girl that had a “Mac-do” – the crazy ponytails that my running buddy Mac sports at our races! Too much fun. It took about 15 to 20 minutes to get to the start once the gun went off!
While “racing” I’m not really racing. To me it’s just running as I am only competing with myself. I only strive to improve my own times as I know that that is where the real competition is … inside my head! Running thru the streets of Indy was amazing! The weather was perfect – cool in the high 50’s to 60’s with some drizzle. I had no issue with crowding in the beginning … just running.
I hit the midpoint on schedule as discussed with my awesome Coach @SpeedySasquatch. My times were spot on, and I felt really good. Mile 7 is where we were actually
running on the Indianapolis 500 Speedway! It was such an awesome,awesome experience! I even took a few self portraits of myself while running … !
Miles 9 – 11 is where it got a little “weird” for me. I know, what am I talking about? Well, I’m not exactly sure what happened. It was almost as if I blacked out for those 2 miles or so because I don’t remember them at all. Seriously. I just remember that I was thinking that my playlist was kinda weird at the mile 9 marker, then the next thing I knew, I was at mile 11 with a huge gash on my leg bleeding. I don’t remember falling, but I don’t remember how I got to mile 11 either. It was as if I just blacked out, but kept moving. So … not to worry, I’ve been working with my doctor on trying to figure out WTHeck happened. I’m thinking that it’s either my thyroid that’s off, or my electrolytes were really off. I really believe that it was my electrolytes. I dunno. Just know that I’m okay, and I’ll figure it out.
So … since I lost two miles, my times were slightly off. Even though I somehow managed to keep moving, I guess I was
moving slowly. Oh well, at least I was upright, and not vertical or on an ambulance gurney, right? And the gash wasn’t bad, but it did scar. I wasn’t going to try to even make up the time difference. At this point I just wanted to finish. My finish time looks weird, but remember that I started like 15-20 min after the gun time, and I lost time when I passed out or something. I looked good at the finish though … smiling for the camera …
The end was fun! Lots of people! Lots of crowd support – from random people on the street, to cheerleaders from every school, volunteers, bands on street corners. There was more than enough water, and porta potties throughout the course. While running to the finish, the announcer made
it seem as if you were racing each other to the finish! You know, like you were a race car. Fun! It took awhile, but finally caught up with my Twitter friend, Alamar … OMG, she’s awesome and beautiful. She finished that race like it was nothing, and she looked fab!
Would I run it again? Heck yeah! That race was fun! I’m thankful that my brother let us stay and chill out at his house. I’m thankful that the weather was nice. And I’m thankful that whatever happened from miles 9-11 were not that serious. I loved that race! Just don’t tell Chris that I already signed up for 2012 and am hoping that things workout so that I can make it back there again. =) Thanks for a great race, Indy!!!
It’s been a busy month for me, this month of May. I opened my eyes and it’s just about over now as we are in its last full week! Wow! So much to write, so little time.
Last weekend was my second half for the month for me. (Since I’m a very S L O W blogger, it’s now 3 weekends ago!) I’d never really done that before. I take that back, I have, just not “formally” as in signing up for a race. I’ve logged as many as 150 miles/month, so running 2 13.1 mile races is a piece of cake! I haven’t done it in the past because it can wreck havoc on a family schedule and also a schedule in which one works every other weekend. However, one race was a “must run,” while the other one was one in which I had the opportunity to see my college boy, and spend the weekend meeting new Twitter friends, and seeing an “old” one. Win/Win!!
Fresno … Ah, what’s good to say about Fresno? Probably not much as I live in it’s cousin city, Stockton. That’s another blog in itself, so we’ll save that for another day. Fresno is located in the middle of California’s Central Valley, and I didn’t realize that it was so HUGE! I mean HUGE! It has a population of about half a million people for gosh sakes! Yeah, that’s huge! From what I know and have experienced of Fresno, it’s like any other California city … it has its good and bad points and parts. I’m not a good one to comment as I have not really spent any real quality time there. I know that it’s the home of the Fresno State Bulldogs (Go Dogs!), and that it’s HOT there.
I’m not sure how I even found this race. Probably from my time spent trolling websites looking for races to run. Wait, I remember … I was looking for biking events for my hubby to participate in as he’s new to biking and was looking for organized rides. This particular race was made into an entire weekend … The Eye Q California Classic Weekend. I thought it would be fun if my husband could ride on Saturday, and I could run the half on Sunday. It ended up that I would be the only one participating as for some reason he didn’t sign up. Oh well … that was okay with me. I sent out the link to my friend, Linda, who spends a lot of time in Fresno and asked if she would consider running with me. That link was consequently viewed by Penny (@southbaygirl) who convinced Kristy (@kristylpants) and a weekend was planned!
We left for Fresno on Saturday morning. Uneventful drive, one short stop to get gas and some In and Out Burger for some much needed fuel of a different source. (Yeah, I know it’s not exactly the right source of nutrition, but the burgers are awesome and the french fries are to die for so bite me!) One and half hours later we’re in Fresno looking for our hotel and getting lost in the not so finest part of town! Good times for Chris and I as he wants to throttle me more times than he let’s on as I am so NOT a good navigator! In my defense, I have never claimed to be a good navigator, nor do I ever want to be. The majority of the time on our road trips, I can be found sleeping in a reclined passenger seat, reading, or messin’ around with my iPhone. If it’s truly a navigator that he wanted, then it’s what he got the Garmin for, right? That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.
45 minutes later, we find the Holiday Inn that we’ve booked for the weekend, but it’s too early to check in. We park in front of the Casino next door, and we head out to packet pick up at Chuckchansi Stadium … Home of the Fresno Grizzlies! Really? Yep, true story.
Packet pick up was no expo …. just a very small event with a couple high school girls handing out bib numbers, and a few volunteers handing out the goodie bags and tech shirts. I walk up to pick up mine, only to be informed that the only size shirt in womens that they have is a large! What? Are you kidding me? When I registered, I requested a small shirt and you’re telling me that you only have a large? Minor SNAFU … let it go. It’s not like I wear my tech shirts anyway! Penny and Kristy were close to arriving to Fresno, so I told them that I would wait. No big deal. I rummage through the goodie bag to find absolutely nothing exciting! Lucky for me, Penny and Kristy arrived a few minutes later. To me, it’s always such a nice feeling to meet people that I have been communicating with via Twitter and/or Facebook. It reminds me so much of the pen pals that I had when I was a child, however, I have yet to meet them IRL (in real life). After introductions, we head off to our Hotel – the Holiday Inn – which is within walking distance from the race start.
After we get settled, I call my son, Sam, who is a Junior at Fresno State University. Penny, Kristy, and I had plans to meet up with our friend, Linda, later, so I suggested to Chris that we take Sam out to eat as I knew that he would be hungry. He was. We ended up walking around close to where we were staying and asked a Police Officer his suggestion for a good lunch spot … He suggested a sports bar up the way called . Good choice in terms of food, just the service was somewhat slow and, no, it was not busy at all. We got caught up with Sam, and headed back to the hotel where I got ready to go to dinner (I know, I just ate), and Chris and Sam were to spend some time together doing what Sam enjoys … playing poker at a local casino.
Dinner with Linda was at a restaurant called Five. Italian fare, perfect for pre-race carb loading. Linda was there, along with her “Harley Guy,” Bill. Conversation was great, and the company was even better! I ended up ordering a seafood pasta with red sauce which was absolutely delicious! Alas, race day the next day was a bright and early 0700 so as much as we were having fun, it was time to head on back and get some rest.
No issues with me. I got back, laid out my race outfit, and called it a night.
Race day. Game face on! Gah! I had no “real” pre-race nutrition! I did have a banana, and a coffee, but I was hoping for my usual bagel and peanut butter. I had to make do with some of my left over pasta, and my banana and coffee, which seemed to satisfy me enough. I get a text from Penny that they were ready to head out at 0615. Perfect timing! I’m ready to go! The excitement between the three of us is evident. We have our complimentary Punk Rock Racing gear on from our friend Ron (@PunkRockRunner). We are happy to be representing our friend! I’m even happier that Ron was able to make it white with purple! Awesome! We head to the start to be amongst the others who anxiously await the start.
The race began on time. It started early because they feared that the weather – which is normally HOT at this time of year for Fresno, would once again creep up to some high temps. Thankfully, it did not. It was around the low to mid 60s the entire time which was perfect for me. By looking at the course map, I thought for sure I’d get lost running thru the streets of Fresno, but I knew that I’d be okay because I’d be with other runners – some ahead of me, some behind me, but I knew that unlike small trail races, I’d never really be “alone.” I “lost” Penny and Kristy at the start. They were going to run together. The run was surprisingly nice for me, but it got even better at around the half mark because this is where we entered the Fresno Zoo! Wow! It was perfect for me that the first animals that I saw were kangaroos, zebras, and giraffes. If you’re wondering why, it’s because my father always loved Australia and always brought me back something from there that was animal themed. I still have a koala coin purse that he brought me when I was around 8 or 9. Running among those animals reminded me of my dad, and how he loved to watch me run! I needed that at this point. Not that I was struggling or anything, just sometimes I think I’m forgetting my dad when it’s only been 3 years. It was kind of a nice to remember that his memory surrounds me.
The rest of the run was fairly “easy” for me. I was pretty much on track hitting about 10 -1030 min/miles which I was happy with. I still have a lot of plantar fascitis issues, and I could feel my left foot and ankle a little, but not enough to bother me. I knew that I was a little off in my gait, but I still ran fairly well. My friend, Linda, told me later that she was at the mile 12 marker, however I didn’t see her. I think she got there late and I had already finished. I would’ve loved to have seen her, she is the BEST race cheerleader!!!
I loved that race. Not only was it a good run for me, but I so enjoyed meeting my Twitter friends! I have met some really nice people on there and meeting them in real life is a bonus! The *blng* (medal) was nice, as was the post race fueling! Com’mon … Stone Cold! Heck yeah! There was also beer, and the usual fare of bagels, and bananas, but Stone Cold was definately my fav! The only complaint that I have was that I did not see one porta-potty out on the course. Seriously, not one! Lucky for me, I was smart enough to use the one at the zoo, but really, not one out on the course. The water stations were pretty scarce, too, but I can’t remember. I have been trying to teach myself to run without a water belt, so I have only been carrying a very mini one from iFitness which I LOVE. However, did you know that Nuun, the flavored water tabs, will explode under pressure? OMG! I didn’t, or I wasn’t paying any attention that they were effervescent so I put one in my water bottle when I refilled it at one of the stations. At mile 10 when I wanted a sip … I got a face full!!!! Holy cow! Thank God I am able to laugh at myself because I’m sure it was amusing to all those around me who heard me yell out then bust out laughing!
Would I run it again? Yes! It was a very nice run. I enjoyed myself! So … Fresno … see you in 2012!
I don’t put myself out there very often. I don’t do that well in large social settings, and I prefer the comfort of my own home to that of the outside world. I pretty much keep to myself and don’t bother anyone. I am a self-professed anti-social being, and I’m okay with that. That’s just how I am. That’s just me.
On the outside, I keep the very tall, armored wall I that have built around myself high and locked tight. I’m one of those people that is hard to get to know because I don’t offer much information, nor do I say very much on any given day. I’m far from “quiet.” I am somewhat guarded, and truth be told, I just really don’t have much to say. I’ve been known to give off the impression that I’m “stuck up” or “rude.” That’s just a perception, it so rarely is the case (unless I *really* don’t want to be bothered by you at all, then it’s probably true). Besides, it’s not my perception, it’s theirs or yours and I could really care less.
Truth be told, if I never had to speak or utter another word again, I’d be okay with that. Known to want to say more than what’s necessary at times, my tongue sometimes holds on by a bare thread from all the biting that I do to keep my mouth shut! My family would probably be relieved to hear no more nagging from me. =] If I had to communicate by just writing, I’d so enjoy that. Just remember that I believe that silence speaks volumes at times and that sometimes people need to know when to just STFU! Seriously, if people could hear themselves and hear how annoying they sound to me – like fingernails down a chalkboard! *shudders*
Why, you might ask? I just happen to be wired that way. I’m not great around a lot of people. I feel claustrophobic and get the feeling that I may suffocate. I don’t care to be the center of attention of anything, I’m okay with being on the periphery of things – just know that I’m there. It’s weird because it’s so opposite from how my father was. My father was so very outgoing, so open and friendly to everyone. I mean EVERYONE!!! He made and kept friends everywhere, and he could talk for hours! Social butterfly breeds recluse! How ironic is that?!? I loved my Dad. He was a good man and at times I wish that I were more like him. But I am okay with who I am, who I have become.
I have, however, just a little bit of my beloved father within the me. If you are fortunate enough to be one of those who has been able to chip away, break down, or get thru the wall I have built around myself, you will find that I am vulnerable, easy going, funny, smart, a little obnoxious (in a good way), likable, even lovable, and actually human complete with a heart. I love passionately and value my family and friends. It just takes a little while for me to warm up to you, for my icy coldness to thaw. I have a few friends that I have kept and held onto for many years. I will remember your birthday, send you greeting cards with sappy sentiments, buy you things that remind me of you for no reason at all. And I will love you ferociously … Because that’s just me.
– Posted using BlogPress from my RowPhone =]
As a marathon runner, I have read about it over and over, but never quite understood what it was, what it meant, until I hit it myself. I’m talking about the Proverbial Wall.
I didn’t know what to expect the first time I ran a marathon because, for one, I didn’t train properly at all; and secondly, I thought I could just run. I mean, it’s “only” 26.2 miles, right? Yeah, right!
In endurance sports, particularly cycling and running, hitting the wall or the bonk describes a condition caused by the depletion of glycogen stores in the liver and muscles, which manifests itself by precipitous fatigue and loss of energy. – Wikipedia.
You’re tired. You struggle. You question yourself. You want to quit. The first time it happened to me at mile 20. I. Wanted. To. Die. But I pressed forward taking in some nutrition, knowing that the end was close, yet so far away. I knew I could do it. I knew I would finish.
But what about in real life? What do we do when we hit that wall? What can we do? What “nutrition” can we take in to overcome life’s difficulties? It seems all too easy in life to just walk away from it when there seems to be no end in sight.
It shouldn’t be so easy to just quit at anything started. I’ve always told my kiddos that if they want to start something (baseball, karate, a project), they need to see it until the end. If you put the time and effort into something, it deserves a fighting chance to be completed.
I’ve seen relationships end, jobs quit, college courses dropped … All because of the belief that it was “too hard!” Seriously? WTF? Life IS hard. Life was NOT meant to be so easy that we could just skate on by and come out unscathed. Too many times though, I’ve seen things pushed to the wayside because it wasn’t worth the time, or the effort, or it was just out of their comfort zone and one didn’t like the feeling of discomfort that it illicited within them, and I wondered, “Why?” Why didn’t they stick it out? Why wasn’t (s)he, or why wasn’t it worth the time or effort when they had already invested so much into them/it?
Then I started to watch. I watched parents do the homework for their children, when these children should be doing their own homework. I watched parents bribe their children to do things that should be done without needing bribery. I watched as parents rewarded children for negative behavior. Why is this important? Who cares about how these children are being raised? I mean, after all, they’re not our children, right? True, they are not our own children, but they are children who have grown into adults, and we are encountering them now. These are children that our own children will have to or are already dealing with.
What’s the point? The point is, and I do have one, is that these kids grow up to be individuals that expect things to be easy, and handed to them and when it’s not they throw a tantrum or just quit altogether. No parent wants their child to be hurt or uncomfortable. We can’t be there every time they fall to pick them up. We can’t wrap them in bubble wrap. We CAN, however, help them to help themselves. I’m NOT saying don’t pick them up and dust them off when they fall, or leave them out there to fend for themselves. Rather, when you do, point out that they’re okay as you do so so they can see and feel that they are. Let them cry, but talk to them and urge them to get up and keep moving once bandaged up. Sit with them as they as they struggle with their homework, but don’t take command. They need to figure out how to work out their math problems, or write that English paper. Be there to offer suggestions, proofread, and to correct. What? They don’t want to take their medicine, or do their chores? By offering them a new toy or payment if they do creates the expectation that every time they need to do something uncomfortable they should be rewarded for doing so. This is how we “train” and “feed” our kids the necessary “nutrition” to make it through the walls they may encounter throughout life.
I’m far from being a perfect parent. I run my household as a drill sergeant runs his recruits. I love my kids more than anything, and my job as a parent is to prepare them for life. I need to train them to move onward once they hit a wall. I need to be there to provide the nutrition they need to get past the feeling of wanting to give up, so that they can one day do it for themselves. I will know that I have succeeded in my job as a parent when my kids are able to care for themselves (and others when they have their own families) when they are away from me. I will continue to provide the necessary nutrition and guidance so that they make it to that finish line, any finish line – whatever it may be. So I watch them, encourage them, and I nudge them out of the nest. I watch as they open their wings, stretch them out and attempt to fly … I believe that they can do it, but it’s my job to make sure that they believe that they can.
** Note: My kids are FAR from “perfect.” They have their issues also, but for the most part they are well adjusted, well behaved, fun, smart, beautiful kids. I have a great husband who has helped me raise them, and truth be told, he is the driving force behind their greatness. I know that my kiddos will fare well in this world, and I am so very thankful that they are mine, and that I was given the honor and privilege to be their mother.
What kind of nutrition are you feeding your kids? Are they getting the right kind of training? Will they be able to conquer their walls?
– Posted using BlogPress from my RowPhone =]
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 =]
It happens to me more often than not … I wake up and I ask myself, “Now, how exactly did I end up here again?”
It’s not a bad thing. I just believe that time flies by me so quickly most days that I don’t have much time to recover from one day to the next. I see the days turn into weeks, which turn into months, then into years. I look into the eyes of my children and wonder since when did I start having to look up to see them, when did they get old enough to be teenagers in high school or college? I look in the mirror and realize with horror that I’ve aged – a new wrinkle here, a few more grey hairs there … Wow!
Other times, wonder how I got here because I know that although I am healthy and strong in body and know that I could probably live forever, my mind has not always been as strong and has wavered in the past. There was a time when I didn’t care and just wanted to die. If you don’t know my story, and you’ve just come on board on the Row. Boat, you wouldn’t know that part of my life, and you don’t really need to know that part of me. I’m pretty open about it if you ask me though, and I’ll tell you that my first suicidal attempt was at the age of 8, believe it or not. Yes, you read that correctly, it’s not a typo … I did type in the number 8 … EIGHT. I know, it’s selfish of me to have even entertained the thought when so many people want nothing more than to live, or to even have just a little piece of what I have been so lucky to have been blessed with.
Looking at me now, you can’t tell; you would never know. My life is perfectly normal, and I am happy. Truly happy. I’m married to a really great guy who knows all of my little quirks and idiosyncrasies and still loves me unconditionally. He is the love of my life. I can honestly say that he has been my lifesaver, my bouy. Together we have weathered some crazy storms, and in no way is our relationship “perfect.” We understand that no relationship is ever perfect, and we have worked hard to keep our relationship intact. We understand no relationship is 50/50 … sometimes is 60/40, 80/20, or even 90/10 … We have four kiddos that we’ve raised together. Trust me, they’re not perfect, easy children, but they are respectful, good, beautiful human beings. They’re all good kids, and we wouldn’t trade them for the world.
Outside of my little family, I have a great career as a Registered Nurse in an ER. I have not one, but two Bachelor of Science Degrees – one in Business, the other in Nursing. I am an athlete: I have a Black Belt in Krav Maga; I’ve run marathons, and half marathons; I’ve taught Kickboxing. I’m an avid reader (I have my own library that my husband jokes is a bonfire waiting to happen). I am so much more than what I let others “see.”
It was a conversation with my middle son today, that sparked me to seek the answer to the question. It was he that reminded me that it would be difficulty for me to fail. When questioned further as to why he thought that, he told me that, “It’s not in you, Mom. You’re not one of those people who would want that for yourself. You would make sure that that never happened to you – and it has never happened to you, and I know that it will never happen to you because you wouldn’t let it. It would be really hard for you to fail because you would find a way to make it work, or make it happen.” For my child to see that about me, makes my heart soar to know that I have had that kind of an impression on him. It’s funny how I can’t see it myself – so many people have pointed it out to me – my tenacity, my perserverance, my resilience. I am amazed that my child could spot it and call me on it at his age of barely 15.
So … I ask again … How exactly did I end up here again? Am I deserving of all the blessings that have been bestowed upon me? My answer is a resounding, “YES!” I can tell you exactly how I ended up where I am, and let me tell you that luck has had absolutely nothing to do with where or who I am today. It’s been a struggle for me to believe that I am a “deserving” individual. As I was reminded by my son, I am here because I made a decision at some point in my life to make it work, make it happen, to have a great life. I believe that wholeheartedly. Therefore … I am here. I am alive. I am happy. My life is good. My life is truly better than most and I have absolutely NO reason to complain. I know that my life could be worse and for that I am thankful that it is not.
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 will be the first to admit that I am far from your “girly girl.” Far, far, far away from that. First impression when you look at me is that I’m your average woman, but if you look deeper you will see that I’m a true tomboy.
Tomboy, by definition, is a girl who dresses and sometimes behaves the way boys are expected to, often into more masculine things like “stronger” sports, computers, or cars. Tomboy refers to a female whose behavior is free from the restriction of unwritten societal gender rules. She doesn’t think she is being boyish or girlish, she is being herself. Girls are typically called a tomboy when something is done that requires physical strength or when playind and one doesn’t mind getting dirty or injured if that goes with the game. Tomboys are usually heterosexual by instinct and choice. Tomboys are usually willing to fight if necessary & tend to be fearless though not stupid in that respect. They are intolerant of bullies and tend to step in to balance uneven situations. Warrior-like in an honorable way. (Urban Dictionary.)
I have always identified myself with the tomboy mentality. As a child, I was the one always running around, riding my bicycle, preferring to be dressed in pants versus dresses, preferring tennis shoes over those patent leathers. You could find me dressed in a dress with tube socks and tennis shoes. Imagine my mother’s horror – brings back such precious memories for me!
As I grew into an adult, you can still find me like this, just a little more refined. Wardrobe … haha. You can find me in my gym clothes, or in my scrubs. Standard outfit for me. I love my jeans and t-shirts. Don’t be fooled into thinking that I won’t wear a dress or something girly … they’re in my closet. I don’t mind getting dressed up or wearing a dress. Lots of skirts, dresses, and girlish tops, but for the majority of the time I’m in those shorts, jeans, and t-shirts. Heels and I are not friends. My shoe collection consists of athletic shoes, or Vans, or flipflops.
I’m the woman who doesn’t wear a lick of make up. For one, I’m not one to take the time to do it, secondly, I don’t know or care to learn how to put it on, and lastly, I’m so active that make up just gets in the way. I’ve tried, and I do slap it on when I feel like it, but generally, on an ordinary day you will always find me fresh faced, just moisturizer.
As for my hair … Forget it. I am not one to schedule elaborate hair appointments at the salon – I tried it, but it’s just not really “me.” If it takes too much time, please, don’t even bother to style or cut it, just trim up my bangs please. Gotta have my bangs! =) You will find me with my hair up in a pony tail, or with it just loose with it’s many waves … I just can’t see spending a lot of time doing hair and make up.
I sound as if I would be a great candidate for What Not To Wear, or some other make over show!!! I wouldn’t go … I may, albeit kicking and screaming the entire way!
About the only thing “girly” that you will find about me is my vast collection of Coach purses! Oh … I love those purses. Many of them are in the color purple and that makes me happy … =) Haha … but even on most days you will only find me with my little Coach wristlet along with my gym gear, no purse to be found!
I don’t really give much thought to what people think of me. I have always been my own person, not really conforming to the “norm.” I’m happy in my own skin and that’s all that matters. I know exactly who I am and I am okay with me. I have lots of friends who are girly girls, or divas … and I love my friends. I wouldn’t ask them to change for me, nor would I change for them. My husband accepts me as I am – always has. He has never asked me to change. My own daughter is a girly-girl and I love her as she is.
Tomboy … yep … that’s Row. Once a tomboy … ALWAYS a tomboy! Deal with it.
Running Code 3 