Out of My League

I was thirty when I ran my first 5K. One day I decided there is no reason I shouldn't be able to run 3 miles.  So, I did the Couch to 5K program (kind of), signed up for a race (Shamrock Shuffle) and I did it.  Last year, at age 34, I ran an 8K for the first time. I have given birth to three children in the last six years, so my "running regimen" as I will loosely call it, has been somewhat lax. I am slow and certainly not trying to win anything.  When my children ask me, "Mommy, did you win?" I proudly say, "No, Mommy finished." However, it gives me a great sense of accomplishment when I finish a 3 mile run, and as a running friend once said to me, "A 12 minute mile is the same distance as an 8 minute mile."

Last fall, I saw there was a triathlon training series at a nearby gym.  The flyer said it was meant for beginners all the way up to seasoned tri-athletes.  There were 5 events, one a month through the winter months.  It was a 10 minute swim, a 20 minute bike and a 10 minute run.  While the swimming part made me a little nervous, I signed up.  Why not? It's worth a shot, and I figured I could just do the breast stroke during the swimming part since I wasn't confident with my front crawl. I thought it would be a good practice run to see if I was up for a REAL triathlon.

During my first of these triathlon events it became VERY clear to me I was out of my league.  These people were TRIATHLETES. They participated in these events to train for the events that they were actually trying to WIN.  Regardless of what the flyer said, I did not see any other "beginners" in my heat.  Maybe I just signed up for a heat where there just so happened to be mostly "advanced" triathletes. :-)  Later that week, when I checked the results and saw I was third from the bottom, I was reminded that this training series probably wasn't meant for me. That's okay, I thought, it doesn't matter.  It's a good workout and I will see it through.

Yesterday, I saw it through and finished the last of the series (I did miss one due to the WSRA reading convention; good excuse, I think). Each time I walked into that gym and completed the 10 minute swim doing my breaststroke, I was reminded I was out of my comfort zone and way out of my league.  I kept going back, though, because isn't that part of what life is all about? Trying something new and stepping outside of our comfort zone? Don't we ask our students to do that? Shouldn't I be modeling this for my children? Coming in last, and yes, I did come in last, happens...and it's okay.

I'm so glad I did that triathlon series.  For the little girl in me who was always picked last for anything athletic and for the woman in me who isn't afraid to come in last, I'm glad. And you know what, I learned I probably could complete a triathlon. I just might do it using the breaststroke.

Little Feet

Little feet
On the stairs

Little hands
Wiping the sleep
From his bright eyes

Blonde hair
Sticking up
in the back

Good morning, mommy

Curls onto my lap
and fits perfectly

Best part of my day

Math Night

To-Do List for Math Night (one hour until start time)
1. Check on the hot dogs.
2. Carry all of the buns, water, soda, condiments and fruit to the cafeteria.
3. Re-organize the list of people coming so I can sort it in Google sheets for easier check-in.
4. Set up the registration table with check-in list, goodie bags and raffle tickets.
5. Hit the bathroom.
6. Check hot dogs again.
7. Add link to the website.
8. Get raffle tickets ready.
9. Smile. Breathe.
10. People are arriving...and GO!

Baby Dear

If you were to ask me what my favorite story was as a child, I will, without even thinking, say Baby Dear. It is a an old Little Golden Book published in 1962.  It is about a little girl who has a very special baby doll, Baby Dear.  Her father gave her Baby Dear when he brought her mother home from the hospital with the little girl's new baby sister.  As the little girl's mother gives her baby a bath, a bottle and rocks the baby to sleep, the little girl does the same for Baby Dear.  I LOVED this book as a little girl and would choose it every night. I am sure my mother grew sick of reading this book over and over again. I am sure she would have LOVED if I chose something else--ANYTHING else--from time to time. I don't know what happened to the book Baby Dear, but somewhere through the years it must have been donated.  Years later, I came across a copy at a yard sale and it was like seeing a long-lost friend.  I immediately purchased the book and have held on to it knowing someday it would live
on the bookshelf in my child's room.

Tonight at bedtime, as I have many times before, I pulled Baby Dear off of the shelf and read it to my baby daughter, sleepy on my lap and sweet-smelling from her bath.  There are many books I LOVE reading to my children, but Baby Dear is one of my favorites to read because I feel like it is a piece of my childhood I can share with them.  It is filled with love and warmth for me and I feel like I pass that along to them each time I read it.

Things That Make Me Go Hmmmmm

It snowed and sleeted in Wisconsin this morning.  The cars in the parking lot at school were icy and needed scraping.  I put my bags in the van, started the ignition and went to grab the scraper.  Being lucky enough to park my van in the garage and only scraping when absolutely necessary, I don't remember the last time I needed my scraper.  I dug around in the glove box, compartments and back of the van.  My husband has me outfitted with enough bungee cords and tow straps to tow a humvee, some electric reader thing, a poncho and everything I need to change a tire--most of these I will never use--but I do not have a scraper.  In Wisconsin. During winter.  Note to self--add a scraper to my van! After I waited for my front window to defrost enough for me to not be a safety hazard, I headed for home.  It is one o'clock (I work part-time).  What appeared to be a school-aged child was driving a riding lawn mower (????) down the sidewalk.  Again...I live in Wisconsin and it is winter.  There was no snow plow on the front of this lawn mower. REALLY? Things that make you go hmmmmm...

It is March already!

7:30. Time to go.  My 5 year-old tossed his backpack and climbed into the back seat of the van.  I buckled him in and we were off to school.  I love driving him to school.  I love holding his hand while we walk across the parking lot.  I know my days of hand-holding on the way into school are limited, so I will enjoy it as long as it lasts. I love that I teach in the same building and he is just down the hall.  Sometimes we pass in the hall and the smile that lights up his face warms me to my core.

Today on our way to school, it dawned on me that it was March.  Wow. It feels like it was just September and he didn't need mittens and boots.  I am not sure where the last several months have gone.  Summer is three months away and his first year of school will be over.  This reminded me of what every parent of young children knows...time flies. So fast.

No Intentions

I did not know what I would write about today when I woke up, but I can tell you I had no intention of writing about this...a hugely significant event in my life.  As I begin this "Slice of Life" adventure, this truly is a slice of my life...always there in the background and when I least expect it, I am reminded of that day in June.

This morning my husband, Kyle, and I were in church with our three children.  The pastor began the sermon referencing the story from one of the readings--the one about Peter  being very offended and upset when Jesus first told the disciples that he would die.  The pastor had us close our eyes and imagine our best friend.  I thought of Kyle.  Then, the pastor had us recall wonderful moments and all that we shared.  Then, she had us imagine that person telling us, "I will die," as a way to connect to the experience Peter shared with Jesus.  This instantly took me back to that June day and my frantic drive to the hospital.  This happens sometimes...a movie, a song, something someone says...I go back and remember that day--maybe just a moment from that day.  It shocked me at first, when this started happening and I remember asking my husband if this would always happen.  If I would always feel like the wind was knocked out of me at random times when something reminds me of all that I could have lost that day.

I had been driving when I heard those horrible words (not the worst words a person can hear, but close)...Kyle had been in an accident...med flight...cut out of the car...breathing tube...and no one knew exactly how he was doing.  It was about 20 minutes before I knew more...a horrible 20 minutes of wondering...what if it's worse than they are telling me...what if I don't make it in time...what were the last words I said to him...I love you...thank God...the children--safely behind me, sleeping off their play date--I can't even go there...and then, the best words I could have heard..."He will be okay."  Relief.  So much relief.  I can't even explain.

I reached over and I placed my hand on Kyle's leg and I counted my blessings--again--that he was next to me.  This was another reminder of how precious life is and how nothing is promised.  I take that with me every day.  This experience, this "slice" if you will, reminds me of my priorities, what matters and what really doesn't. I don't always get it right--I get it wrong a lot--but I am closer than ever before.