First World Running

Last weekend I crossed another thing off my to do list.  I have been wanting to run the Hippie Chick 1/2 marathon for a few years now. Working every other weekend really puts a dent in my race schedule but this year the stars were in alignment and I had the weekend off.  Coincidentally also Mother's Day weekend.

My friend and running partner agreed to join me, she would do the 1/4 marathon. The day was partly cloudy, but no rain and that is the best part. It was a great course fairly flat and scenic this time of year. I felt good like I was keeping a pretty good pace.

I wear a watch and hit start when I cross the timing pad but I don't watch my time when I run.  Maybe I should, I can't decide if it would inspire me to run faster, or make me feel like I should just give it up. I guess that's a discussion for another day.

At any rate it was a 1/2 marathon PR for me.  Let me just say first that my goal was to do it in 2 hrs or less.  I REALLY wanted to do it in 2 or less! So when I crossed the timing pad, hit stop on my watch the time was 2:01:43! AAARRRGGGG!!!  So even though it was a PR for me, at least 3 minutes off my previous time this is my first world problem, I missed it by 1:43, well 1:34 according to the official race time, but still soooooooo cranky about it!

I know, I know get over myself already!  I did say it was a first world problem.  I am grateful that I have a life that allows me to indulge in this challenging pass time. Besides the next half marathon is just around the corner, Oregon is running country, especially this time of year.

Ocho de Mayo

Ok, so I am not of Latin descent in any way, shape or form, but I did live in the central valley of California until I was nine and I was one of  two Caucasian  girls in my kindergarten in Reedley, CA, so I can appreciate a good tamale when I have one and I am certainly a Margarita connoisseur.  I love any excuse to go out for Mexican food.  Not just any Mexican food, but good Mexican food.

What better reason than Cinco de Mayo?  This year I was feeling thoroughly ripped off in the fiesta department when I had to spend my evening shuttling back and forth between two baseball games and not a taco pescado or rocks margarita to be found.  Feeling like the Karmic forces were conspiring against me and just cranky in general a singularly Oregon weather flashback of rain and 50 degrees today was not helping at all.

Picking up my 9 year old after school in the rain blowing sideways, he was not enthusiastic about attending track practice and I could not blame him in the least! Then came the news that changed our lives.  The baseball game of the oldest was rained out, everyone's homework was done, it was before 6pm, we had no plans, the planets were in alignment, it called for a serious celebration!

Ocho de Mayo! We went to our favorite Mexican restaurant, Pepita's in Beaverton, sat right down in a booth, ordered drinks and our fav menu items and had the best dinner ever!

There was thoughtful, insightful conversation, a little bit of snarky gossip, and the usual cranky school, homework, teacher talk all in all a perfect evening.

Topics covered: Does everyone see the 'same' colors or does everyone see a different color that they interpret as, for example, green even though if I saw your 'green' it would be different than mine and further more what about the color blind people (we have some of those in the family).

Do people blind from birth dream in color? and how would you describe a color to someone who couldn't see, and if their sight was restored would the colors they then saw match their definition of that color.

Cochlear implants yes or no? Discussion revolved around the two schools of thought in the deaf community, no, be proud of who you are as a deaf person, yes, why not take advantage of technology to have hearing if possible.  Is is better to have the procedure done before a certain age? Like when people are younger? Do non hearing people who are adults who have a cochlear implant find the hearing world overwhelmingly loud?

Should you pursue an IB diploma for high school, or simply take IB and AP classes, but not test for the diploma?

Why do you have to use an elective to do student government? Why can't it be an extracurricular?

Does my daughter really dislike science and math or is it just not cool to like it?

How do we fit in all the sports, classes and activities we want to do? There is simply not enough time!!

It was fantastic! I didn't even have time to wonder, 'Who are these people, and what have they done with my children'?

I can see now that the time will come, soon enough, even though the day to day squabbling can really wear a mother down, there will a be a time sooner than I can imagine that they will be up, out and on their own and I will wonder why I didn't cherish them more.

Does this mean I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing? That all the worry and doubt will be for naught?  Am I really raising some insightful, thoughtful, caring people that can go out in the world and make a difference?

Sometimes it's hard to see through the socks on the floor, coats and backpacks dropped where they stopped, dishes in the sink even though the dishwasher is empty and wet towels on the foot of the bed, but sometimes you get a window, a glimpse in the form of a spontaneous dinner out.

I never think of the future - it comes soon enough. 

~Albert Einstein

Sounds like good advice, I should probably take it.

"Hi, Mom!"

You know when the camera is on the sports player and they make the big play and then they smile and wave and say, "Hi, Mom!" My husband always grumbles, 'What about Dad?'  Well I may have figured it out, well, I probably already knew, but now I have definitive evidence.

Last week when the JV baseball team had a tournament in the middle of nowhere Oregon, about an hour and 20 min drive, I packed up the other kids on the first day and we prepared to spend the day at the ball park, which we did.  It was sunny and 60s, a rare treat for the first day of spring break in Oregon.

The second day the two kids not playing baseball gave me the, "Are you kidding me?" look as I asked them if they wanted to come along.  Pouring rain, wind, 40 degrees.  So off I went, dressed like I was headed to the mountain to ski, wearing more clothes than anyone should have to this time of year.  I tried hard not to have unkind thoughts about my friends in Mexico, Palm Springs and other sunny climes.

By the end of the first game during which there was a complete downpour and hurricane force winds I was frozen and wet.  My helpful husband was texting me minute by minute weather radar updates as to when the next downpour would occur.  He is so kind!

There was a break in the games so everyone went their separate ways for lunch.  When we returned at the prescribed time the game we were to follow was in the 9th inning, high school usually plays 7, and the score was 1 to 1.  The field was a mud pit and the rain was coming down in sheets.  When the winning run was scored the rain let up slightly.  They prepped the field for our game.

Since I had been sitting in the warm and toasty van, knitting away as I waited for the start, I put all of my winter apparel back on, got my umbrella and this time even added a blanket to the ensemble.  My husband texted the next weather update, 'all yellow and red on the radar', if you aren't up on the weather radar lingo, that's not good!

The parents headed toward the ball field like lemmings trying to find a spot out of the wind while waiting for the, 'Play Ball!' to be called. Then a true miracle occurred! Who says praying doesn't help? They called the game! Silent rejoicing among the adults.  Shuffling back to the van in my fashionable attire my 15 year old caught me up, "Thanks for coming." he said and kissed me on the cheek regardless of who would see. One more wave as he climbed in the car with his friends.

"Hi, Mom!" question answered.

Tales of the most embarrassing mother

I have two teenagers now and I am acutely aware of the whole, parents are horribly embarrassing no matter what they do, wear or say, phenomenon.  I do try not to be too noticeable when with them in public, however I do reserve the right to publicly humiliate them in the name of appropriate behavioral expectations.

I do not care if they are with friends or not.  I have friends, I don't need more.  I will call them out if they are not performing up to the standards to which I am accustomed. We've been together for 14 and 15 years now, we should all have it down.

When these incidents occur the 10 yr old usually looks on amused and silent, taking notes on how not to get publicly humiliated.  Being #3 he is really good at this activity.  #1 and #2 prefer to attempt to campaign and negotiate themselves into a punishment far worse than the one I had originally planned on.  Now in my next life when I am queen of the universe we will be equipped with referee whistles for these kinds of interactions so everyone is abundantly clear when the discussion is over.  For now I give them 'the look'.  It has a 75%, well maybe 50% success rate.

It is becoming clear to me lately though that I am on the receiving end of my own array of 'looks'.  Almost all of them are to be interpreted as, 'OMG! Mother, you are killing me and any chance I will ever have to appear semi-normal to people outside our immediate family'.

Now as I was saying I'm aware of the acute anxiety they have, so I try not to dress like a total mom, but not too much like them either.  I attempt to be appropriately groomed if we are going to be in the same state together in swimsuits.  I try not to dance in public (it's hard sometimes) and I do try not to always listen the the 70s or 80s channels on the radio. Last week though new heights were reached in the area of teen aged parent induced embarrassment.

I have come to believe that the neighbors watch us leave the house in the morning for the sheer entertainment value.  I feel compelled to say that these are people that don't have children yet or have children all under the age of 10.  Their time will come.  On this morning the three kids and I were flying out the door.  All of us laden with the necessities of the day; lunches, sports bags, backpacks, water bottles and for me my uneaten oatmeal in a to-go container.

We set out to drop the oldest at the high school with his gigantic baseball bag.  Half way there, "Damn!" I exclaimed. "What?" the three chimed, "Oh, I forgot my oatmeal."  Then as I slowed for the stop light, a growing revelation that I hadn't forgotten the oatmeal, it was on the roof of the van!, complete with a spoon.  "I think it's on top of the van" I said.  "NO it's not!" the oldest stated, terror creeping across his face.  As if saying it definitively would make it so.  "I think it is.  I haven't seen it fall off in the rear views." - Yes I really use them.

We have now entered the drive at the front of the high school. He is horrified that there may be a container of oatmeal on the top of the van.  Stepping out he leaned back in the open door, "It's still there." he mumbled shut the door and went to retrieve his equipment from the back.  I leaned out and snatched it, spoon and all.  "Yay! It's still warm." I'm easy to please.

Extreme eye rolling and pretending not to know the obviously mentally ill woman driving the red van, as he entered the school. "Really, Mom?" was the only response from the 14 year old, who seems to be getting a PhD in sarcasm with minors in eye rolling, huffy breathing and looking indignant.  This I believe is a correspondence course given by the 15 year old.  "It's like a science experiment!" exclaimed the 10 year old.  "It is!" I cheered.  Since there had been a heavy dew overnight the moisture had formed some sort of suction with the bottom of the oatmeal container.  Eye rolling from the 14 year old - she is a great student.

But in the eyes of the 10 year old I am some sort of scientific super mom, able to perform experiments on the way to school, while driving.  Only three short years until I am horrifying him on a daily basis.  Life is short.

Writing with a family

People ask me, 'How do you get everything done?' 'When do you find time to write and everything else?'  The honest answer is, I really don't know.  I guess sometimes it really is like that saying, 'God only gives you what you can handle.' or maybe it is just the usual three ring circus of all families. There are millions more things I would love to do, learn, try, but you have to draw the line somewhere right?  So I continue to sew which I have been doing since I was 9 or so, needle work like cross stitch and embroidery, stamp cards and gift tags, knitting (couldn't stop if I tried), running and working out, cooking dinner for my family and friends when I make time to make sure the bathrooms are clean and then just the general everyday running of the house and family.  School, practices (there are too many to name!), dental and dr appts, volunteering at school and in the community, groceries, laundry, bills, dog walking, well you get the idea and you know how it is the list truly never ends.

Getting it done sometimes goes like this.  After all three children had returned from play practice and baseball for both boys, dinner was cleaned up, the dishwasher running and a load of laundry started, my husband and I both had a moment to sit down.

So while the 15 year old worked on a research paper in the family room, the 14 year old walked the dog and the nine year old shot baskets in his room (don't ask) the two of us retired to the living room. My husband is currently working on short story/ screen play which requires him to do some research on i tunes, specifically John Tesh (again, don't ask).  I'm kind of old school with my writing, so many times there is a hand written work that I have scribbled down on the fly, at swimming lessons, a baseball game, colorguard competition that needs to be transcribed.  My plan for this moment of calm was to transcribe a humorous essay I had written last weekend, reformat a short story I had written a few weeks ago to possibly enter it in a writing contest and catch up on the DVR.

Yes I watch TV, I admit it.  I have no lofty morals about the evils of the small screen.  We all need to escape sometimes, but if you remember I have rules about things. TV watching occurs while folding laundry, catching up on emails, knitting, crafting or multitasking in some other way.

I settled on the sofa, fired up the laptop, hit play on my favorite cop show and started typing.  In the background (use your imagination here) John Tesh played while my husband laughed to himself, typing away, the basketball repeatedly clunked and slammed into the backboard as the dining room ceiling sounded as it was going to come crashing down, the washer beeped, the dryer tumbled, all backed up by the shushing sound of the dishwasher.

Now I know that they say if you are going to write, to be a writer you need a dedicated space.  You need to set aside time and be be regimented in your schedule so that you write everyday in your most inspiring and productive space.  Well I guess my dedicated space is anywhere that my life is currently opening up a window of opportunity to get the words down, whether they're hand written or on the computer you can't stop the ideas from coming and when they arrive you just have to get them down.

Good News!

After texting my friends that I was now officially old because my 15 year old had just gone on his first date I received this response.

"You're not officially old until he drives you to one of your doctors appointments. This is my newly lowered expectation".

My response was, 'Nice! I'll take it'. I guess it's all about perspective.

From PDX to FAT

On Saturday I found myself at Gate A7 at PDX which is something akin to the far flung departure gates of the Phuket airport in Thailand, or Santo Domingo in the Dominican Republic. The exception would be that when departing from these destinations it is the end of a tropical dream, the wake up call that you are returning to the real world so your surroundings are appropriately reality provoking.

The A gates in the farthest reaches of PDX are the place where all the old airport furniture goes to die. With the large adhesive carpet squares, usually reserved for day cares and libraries, and some sort of after market outlets added onto the stainless and vinyl rows of connected chairs so you can charge your devices.

They threw a Starbucks and a Laurelwood Brewing down here to make us feel like we're not waiting for a Greyhound bus. To be fair, I haven't been to the bus station lately, maybe things have improved, somehow I doubt it.  The Starbucks system was down, so they wouldn't take my Starbucks card. Hey, if I'm not getting a 'star' for my purchase so I can earn a free coffee I'll go for the other NW tradition, Coffee People-Aero Mocha and the non-fat Velvet Hammer. Yum!

Granted I was waiting to go to Fresno so no glam and glitz there, but good friends and fun times ahead. Really, do they have to make us feel as though we're with Good Will travel services. A little piped in Muzak, maybe a fresh coat of paint, come on throw us a bone down here!

We'll just have to live the dream all on our own, pumping ourselves up for the trip. It may not be Paris, D.C., or Chicago, but we are getting away and isn't that the most important thing? To see the ones you love and pretending to be carefree and unencumbered.  It' still a good thing even if you're departing from gate A7.

Bright and early this morning we headed to the Fresno Air Terminal, now Fresno Yosemite International airport, still FAT. Great news! An unannounced delay of 3 hours because the plane can't get out of San Diego. Huh? What could possibly be going on down there? Couldn't get the flight crew back from last nights trip to Tijuana? Missed high tide this morning so surfing went late? Really?

After wandering around and trying to read my book they announced they were generously providing meal vouchers. Yippee. Heading towards the only place to eat, other than Starbucks brought me to an area where I did finally get wifi. Turns out if you aren't in the bowels of FAT at the Alaska terminal (why are they always at the edge of no where?) and you venture upstairs to the Delta gates there is free wifi. Ahhhhhhhhh (enter celestial music here). 

So now I'm living large with my $12 meal voucher, do they check the menu so you can't actually get anything for less than $13.49(+ tax-foreign concept to all us Oregonians trapped here in the Central Valley) before deciding on how much to give you? 

Original departure time 10:35am. Most recent update, 2:34 pm. Now they are requesting names and email addresses (shouldn't they already have these in their system?!?) so they can send some 'certificates' for our inconvenience. Well at least I had some time for a blog post.

Languishing in the fruit and nut capital-

He smiled and laughed; I fell

The Willamette Writers group had a call out for a "six word love story" in honor of February and Valentine's Day. I must have skimmed that email quickly because somehow I thought it was a "six line love story". I also must have glanced over it before going to bed because when I woke up some time around 3 am there were three sentences in my brain fully formed and trying desperately to get out.

Now I'm not up every night in the small hours to go to the bathroom, but if I am it's not a big deal, so far. I can get up, do what I need to do without turning on any lights, lay back down and go to sleep - no insomnia here.

This night the dog lept up as I swung my legs over the side of the bed and began prancing around saying, "Wow, I did not know that 3 am was our new wake up time, but I am ready!" He is a very accommodating dog. Unfortunately a dogs bladder once presented with the thought and promise of a trip outside is not easily persuaded otherwise.  So I shuffled downstairs zombie like trying to maintain the sleep zone, trying to remember the three sentences as the dog pranced along happily his tail high and toenails clicking on the hard wood.

Out he raced into the darkness and right back again, turned two circles on the rug, effectively 'wiping his feet' and waited for the cookie he so richly deserved. I had resorted to mumbling the three sentences over and over until we got back upstairs so I could write them down on the paper I keep near the bed.

As the dog launched himself up onto the bed my loving husband grumbling and turning said, " What are you doing"?! "Just writing something down before I forget it". I didn't need any lights to feel the colossal eye roll being sent my way as he flopped over and the heavy breathing ensued.

In the morning as I reviewed, I had sentence 1, 5, and some combination of 2 and 3.

She knew it would happen as soon as she felt the toe of her new sandal catch. As she moved in slow motion, unable to stop she could see herself falling with things scattering everywhere. While she tried to brace for the impact, to minimize the damage of tender skin coming to an abrupt stop against unforgiving concrete she thought. "It would be awful to know what was going to happen all the time; to always anticipate the fall". He knew it would happen as soon as he saw her, overloaded with packages, her sandal catching on the uneven pavement. As he dove to catch her he thought; "I wonder"?

As it turns out I missed the deadline for turning in. I also didn't have six words, but still, I think six lines might be the way to go next year. Maybe I'll suggest it. To be on the safe side, I did use six words for the title.

Always keep some paper and a pen by the bed, or maybe in the bathroom.

Spoiler Alert!

If you are currently following Downton Abbey and have not elected to purchase the whole season and watch ahead, you will know that last night was episode 4. I love the anticipation of waiting until Sunday night every week and getting myself all settled in to watch. It's like a piece of chocolate waiting there for me to savor.  I don't understand the concept of watching ahead, it's like reading the last page of the book first, craziness!

As much as I have been enjoying the whole Downton experience, this season I am finding myself having some irritation with some of the characters. Shocking, I know. So if you have not seen episode 4 this season, its time to stop reading.

Here we go.

More purple?!  I'm glad that Mary is out of black, but the whole purple as a signature color thing is really getting to be a bit much.

What's up with those funky red sofas in the library?

The sous chef at the Ritz seems to bare a striking resemblance to the nasty chef in Ratatouille.

Edith going to the doctor! Never saw that coming!

Does Thomas really have to be so awful?

Potential Laverne and Shirley situation between the Dowager Countess and Mrs. Crawley.

Mr Molesley is making me cranky.  There seems to be a lot of whining going on there.  Maybe we should just call him Eeyore.

Would Dr. Clarkson tell Mrs. Crawley that he's in love with her already?

That's all I've got, for now.  Anyone else agree, disagree, sympathize, empathize, anything?

Year End and New Beginnings

The purple Air Pegasus have run the last 7 miles of the year and of their 355.8 mile, 6 month life span. My year long experiment of recording my running mileage ended with a 58.39 mile total for December and 607 miles for the year! Surprising and exciting.

The grey Air Pegasus (yes I'm a one shoe kinda girl) are waiting to fulfill their 2014 destiny.

Yesterday I heard an interview on 'The Take Away' with Todd Zwillich. The guest was the distinguished professor of public health at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill, Barry Popkin.  His tips for getting healthier in the new year were short and to the point.

1. Exercise

2. Stop drinking beverages with calories in them

3. Cut down on snacking

Sounds like a great place to start.  Happy New Year!

Random Observations

The Weather: I like it right now. Cold enough to make you think it's winter, gray enough to make you want to snuggle up and watch a movie, not so nasty as to keep you from running outside. Perfect!

Shopping Sick: Not a big fan.  I know at some point in your illness you need to get out of the house and get some food, however would it be possible that you not do it at peak grocery shopping time (10am on Monday) in your pajamas and slippers?  And I know you think that it is all good because you are covering your coughing and sneezing with the front of your oversized flannel shirt, which you continue to parade around the store like a germ infested flag.  Thanks for sharing your micro organisms with us when we have less than a week of break left.

Good Deeds: My 15 year old son managed to gather 4 friends at 8am on a Monday of Christmas break to go to the food bank and pack boxes and do inventory for the Sunshine Division.  Of course they were lured with Sesame Donuts and Pizza for lunch, but still.

Mid-Week Holidays: All at once it seemed like it took forever for Christmas to get here because it was on a Wednesday and I was working, but by the same token I was all ready for the kids to make lunches and head off to school this morning.  Its very strange.

Desserts: I think I might actually be done with them.  Not forever of course, but probably for a month or so.

The Fridge: Something smells in there and I cannot figure it out!  I have gotten rid of every suspicious left over, vegetable and piece of fruit.  The milk, eggs and cheese are new.  Help!

Aluminum Foil: Also known as tin foil is only $1.00 more at 7-11 on Christmas Day at 5pm than it is any other regular day at Safeway.  Not bad really.

Coffee: I'm a little scared to admit that I am beginning to like my homemade coffees better than the ones I buy. Which introduces a dilemma.  Am I really going to Starbucks, Coffee Rush, Ava, for the coffee, or the 'experience'? Granted when it is a coffee gathering it is the conversation and the company, but we could have that in one of our kitchens right? Maybe that's a thought for the new year.

Decaf: I'm thinking about it for the new year.  Why?  Why not?

Self Check Out: My kids like Dragon Fruit, know what it looks like, are always on the lookout for it.  How come the 9 year old can identify it, but the self check out machine at Safeway has no record of it and the person that is supposed to help you with these sort of things has to be told what it is as well?

Target: Is everyone going to use cash, checks and gift cards there now?

The Van: Since my husband was ferrying the do-gooders around today he took the van.  Since my vehicle is the 'van of requirement' -Harry Potter reference borrowed from my good friend- I was without all my shopping bags. But even more enlightening when I pulled up to drop my son for basketball practice, waving at my friends as they also dropped their boys no one recognized me!  Apparently the truck possesses an invisibility cloak for the driver. (more Harry Potter, sorry)

Alcohol: I think we may officially be old.  We have reached the point where we are receiving bottles of  alcohol for Christmas.  Rum for my husband, Tequila for me.  Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus!