Bring back that “I-don’t-care-feeling”
I am working on a new skill….the skill of “I-don’t-give-a-crap.”
You see, I have a serious problem, I care WAY TOO MUCH what others think about me and what I am doing. For instance, people are all up in arms and irritated about a project that I am working on to raise money for the students of my school. It was approved through my principal, and our SBDM, I have dotted all my i and crossed all my t’s……..so, why then do I care if people like it or not?
Then I sat next to another teacher on the bus who peoclaimed that she is moving next year. As a result, she doesn’t care. I loved her attitude….I don’t care. I think that is the primary difference between last year and this, last year, I didn’t care. I really just focued on my own scene and left the rest to their own. This year, I suddenly am back to caring about what others thing about me and my business.
So, I am trying not to care.
My first Marathon!
vickie, me and Pam
Well, I did it.
Friday–Pam, Vickie and I all traveled to Tulsa. It was nice, but a cold drive. We had a great time talking in the car, but I was very nervous.
Saturday–Vickie and Pam worked out. I went to carb-load in the breakfast, while there I saw a great deal of “real” marathoners…which made me very scared. We then went to the tiny expo, which was fun. Finally, I had a great pasta dinner at cheesecake factory.
Sunday–I slept well, got ready, and set out for the start. There were so many people and I felt out of place. The race started, it was 27 degrees when I started, but it warmed up quick around mile two I ditched my gloves and was starting to get hot. My tights drove me nuts! They were rolling down and wouldn’t get in place. I was starting to doubt myself. Then, the turn around came for us to move out of downtown and onto the path that follows the river. I was feeling pretty good. I managed to name all the people around me and was watching them to keep pace. There was “skinny mini” a tiny woman that was trucking along at a regular pace. I would often pass her at water stops, because I brought my camel back and didn’t need to stop at this point. Inevitably, though, she would be back in a matter of moments at my side. Then there was “bad-ass babe” I named her this because she was dressed like it was 100 degrees outside, and she was perfect, looked like she lived in the gym. She was plowing on slowly at first, I was passing her. Then she sped up. Then, she went off into the woods I assume to use the restroom. I thought I would never see her again, then she whizzed past me at mile 13.
Speaking of mile 13…that is when it all started to head down hill. I found a huge blister on my big toe and stopped to bandage it. Then, I called my friends to see where they were. I slowed significantly. At mile 15 I was ok, but by mile 16 I fell apart. It started as feeling like I needed something solid in my stomach. My diagraph felt strange, like it was solid, stuck or something. I ate a granola bar from my pack. Then I started to shiver. My teeth chattered. Then I began to cry. I couldn’t stop it. I was hitting the wall. I barely walked, I even sat on the side of the road at one point. I was horrible.
Then, I started to run again. Mainly because I needed to. Just like that I felt better. Lesson #1–walking makes it worse. I finished strong. I didn’t really walk again.
4:57 minutes.
Runner’s High
So, for me, this week is a very big deal.
Last year I determined that I wanted to run a marathon. I trained, trained, and then trained some more. Then one week before the big day I was involved in a bicycle accident that rendered me unable to run. (torn meniscus, broken hand, cut up face.) So, this year, I have worked to regain my strength and prepare to run my first marathon.
I am 6 days from that moment. It is hard to describe what I am feeling. I suppose it is odd to put so much into one day, I mean in the long run maybe it is not that important. BUT, maybe in the long run, it is very important. After all, I want my daughters to know that this is my passion, and it is ok to be passionate about something. I want this to be an integral part of my life forever, so maybe it is important.
In any case, it has been a long build up to this moment.
In the runner’s world there is a phenomenon that is known as the runner’s high….it is a moment that is different for everyone. However, for me it comes on suddenly. Last night, in my last long run before the big day, I found it. The sun was setting, a special time for me. I was rushing to get home before dinner, before dark, before the weekend passed me by and it was back to the demands of the workweek. Metallica was playing in my headphones and I looked at my garmin to notice I was hovering around a 9:40 mile. Not bad…but with 2 miles still left and sunset fast approaching…I needed to pick it up. So, I pushed it a little harder. The traffic of Southwest Parkway flew past me, my headphones pounded in my ears, even with the cool weather a little rush of heat radiated around me. I felt like I was floating across the pavement, I could feel no pain, I could barely notice my feet hitting the ground, I listened to my breaths, steady…. I glanced and noticed I was running mile 7 at an 8 minute mile pace. Then mile 8…. True runner’s high I felt nothing…just running.
That is why I run. I am so ready for this weekend. I know that it will be hard. I anticipate struggles, I am aware that there will be moments I want to walk, there will be times when it feels like my muscles are being pulled apart one strand at a time. I will get tired, I will be frustrated, I imagine I will even cry. BUT, I will also do it. I will run 26.2 miles. I will make it….
I can’t wait.
the first impression of yourself.
My classroom motto is, “become the best version of yourself.” What I usually mean by that is…make choices that you will be proud of.
It is hard to undo a first impression. It sticks with you and taints the way that you think about something or someone for the remainder of the relationship. But, what about the first impression of yourself.
Growing up, I was the chubby one. It was a fact, a way of life. I knew that in every group, there was a chubby one, and I was it. This thinking brought me to the conclusion that physical activity was not for me. Therefore, when all of my friends were doing athletic things, like soccer, basketball, softball, ballet, or cheerleading…I would opt for a “chubby” thing to do. Afterall, though well meaning, I knew that they would laugh at me when I couldn’t do it as well as them. When I got to high school, my mom encouraged me to go out for the swim team. I did. I loved it. I was good at it. I set school records. I even dropped down to a tiny 115 pounds, unnoticed. However, it only took one sentence from a pissed off coach to remind me of my grounded place in this world, “get your fat ass across the pool.” Soon, swimming lost its glow. I quit.
Then, I met arianne. She was not a “chubby” she was an “athlete”. She encouraged me to run, and all things changed for me. Like a religion I ran….daily 5 miles. Endurance running has become as familiar to me as my faith. I straw from time to time…drawn away by time and responsibilities, but I long to feel it again. I love it. It changes me. I feel proud.
I have put in nearly 12 years of running…and yet, when I see another runner…or someone talks to me about a marathon, I shy away, thinking, “I am not that girl. I am not a real runner, it’s just something I like to do.” The first impression of myself taints decisions. Sometime, though, our first impressions are wrong. I believe I am a runner afterall.
my perfection
I remember before my first daughter was born, going to a teacher’s conference. I was about 7 months pregnant, enought to be showing, enough where I could feel her wiggling inside me, but not enough to be terrified and miserable, yet. We where excusing ourselves for lunch and I went into the ladies room and I could feel my daughter turning inside me. I remember standing with my back to the wall, holding my stomach and thinking about the little someone within me. I thought, “this will be the only time in your life that I will be able to completely protect you. Right now, I can ensure you everything that you need; but not too long from now you will enter this world…I will try with every ounce of power within me to protect you from harm, but, there is no garentee.”
Her delievery was hard. she was stuck inside me, both of us afraid to leave that perfect place.
My dearest daughters, my love for you is so amazing that sometimes just looking at you moves me to tears. I would gladly give my life, my everything…to ensure your happiness, hope, and trust. However, my sweet girls, I can’t. All I can give you is a promise that He is just, He is faithful, and He love you.
Thank you for my wonderful life!
The point of no return.
Do you recall the point where you realized that your parents weren’t perfect? That they are human and subject to all the problems and issues that every human faces. That is a rough moment. You sit there thinking, “wow. I thought you where invincible” But they are not.
Parenthood and being a child is a strange mystery. I suffered an amazing amount of anxiety upon the arrival of my first daughter. There she was…so tiny…so innocent….SO INCREDIBLY DEMANDING! How on Earth could I be responsible for her little life. I will never forget another mother describing her feeling to me and saying, “They depend on you for everything…they can’t even get a drink of water, if you are not willing to give it to the them.” Wow.
My pride and my perfection lays upstairs sweetly sleeping. Father, give me the strength to be a Godly enough mother, that when they see my glaring flaws they know You enough to trust in Your grace and purity. Allow them to grow up to be strong and beautiful women full of hope and promise. Most of all, Lord, thank you for letting me be their mother!
The task at hand…
Why can I remember all of my other committments, but the one I made with you? Why am I so obtuse? Literally.
Forgive me.
Romans 1-wow…I feel so little. Sometimes I become so enticed by the world I live in that I forget the truth. Forgive me, Lord. Show me you ways…open my eyes. I feel so much farther away.
The Role of Sexuality
We recently found out that a very good friend of ours 17 year old daughter is pregnant. I know that a teen pregnancy is not the end of the world, but it really broke my heart for the young girl and for her family.
Jason and I stayed up late last night talking about our own youth and sexual experiences. How can you protect your children? How can you give them wisdom? Sex is not bad…even teen sex….but how, Lord, can I share with my baby girls the beauty of sexuality? Father, please be with this young woman as she takes on a new pathway in life. Father, guide her to make good decisions for herself and for this young life she is in charge of. Lord, be with her parents. Give them the support that they need to help her make mature decisions.
Father, give Jason and I wisdom to know how to guide our own daughters though life.
The way it feels
sometimes I feel so frustrated and angry. I have stripped myself of all things given me at birth, to fit into them. Yet, she criticises…dissolves….
It is the 2 of them, they are the battle.
Father, please, help the anger to drift away. Help me to feel the recognition that I crave, without the piercing rage, her dominance overshadowing my every desire. Please help me to be gracious for the outstanding blessings, without hurt. Please forgive my frustration and heal the pain.
The dusk of life
This week we are going to go out for our 6 year anniversary. That is simply amazing. Sometimes, I think about the dusk of my life…and I wonder what it will be like. Will I look back sad, missing the kids as toddlers and the funny things they said? Will I look back regretful, that I didn’t do things differently, that I had made different choices? Or, I hope, I will look back in joy. My God, You are so outstandingly generous to me. I do not deserve your love! Thank you for the blessings.
