For the sake of....

For the sake of the race, I wake up at 4:20am three days in a row.
For the sake of the race, I jump train even though there's nothing I hate more.
For the sake of the race, I will stay in my wall squat 30 seconds longer.
For the sake of the race, I wash my running clothes every day in hopes of smelling pretty.
For the sake of the race, I pass the brownies and munch the celery and hummus even though it gives me gas.
For the sake of the race, I partake in insane cardio workouts that make me feel like hurling.
For the sake of the race, I walk everywhere the long way just for extra work even with the toddler in tow in the wagon.
For the sake of the race, I strain to read the garmin so I can keep time on tempo runs.
For the sake of the race, I put on my bathing suit and let people look.
For the sake of the race, I seek out the hills I'd rather avoid.
For the sake of the race, I spend more time in awkard positions with my foam roller than my husband.
For the sake of the race, I bring my kids to the track with the tire to pull when no ones looking.
For the sake of the race, I gather strength never before known to my DNA.
For the sake of the race, I ignore my disability and treat it as reality instead of a limiting factor.
For the sake of the race, I deny my blood condition that keeps me running slower than dirt.
Because the race is about more than winning, more than finishing, more than starting. 
The race is about more than a run.
It's a heartbeat that cleanses the soul, frees the spirit, pushes past fear, and harvests hope. 
The race is about how far you've come, and how far you're goning.
The race is about your feet greeting destiny, about your sweat hydrating the earth and your lungs sharing air with the heavens.
For the sake of health, I race.

If I am...

If I am an athlete..... It's by accident.  I stumbled upon it like catching your toe on a sidewalk crack and steadying yourself before the fall.  I really just wanted a time out.

If I am a runner...... It's because I fell in love with the road, the breeze and the way the moonlight makes love to the pavement.  I really just wanted new shoes.

If I am training.... It's because my soul convinced my heart to love embracing this life and my now got hooked on the idea of my tomorrow.  I really just wanted to eat banana bread.

If i am me.... It's because I am all of the above and so much more.  Fear may haunt my toes, but my feet move anyway. Obstacles may block my path, but I will always find another road.

If I am 'disabled' .... It's only because you see me that way.  God gave me less vision, so I must have missed that point of view.

Trying to blog again....

Hoping that it will stick this time :) Welcome (or welcome back to the RAMblings blog. 

October inspired decisions, pink underwear and more

Now you're paying attention aren't you? I'm on a reading week at school and that means that I am not in class but frantically attempting to play catch up with homework. It's funny you know I wasn't aware that I was even behind on my homework. How sad for me. Anyways, other than homework, I've been motivated to rearrange my furniture. This is a common occurrence in my home and I'm surprised that my husband hasn't left me yet - or at the very least threatened to glue the furniture down. There is something to be said for the sweet bliss of walking into a room and knowing that everything has a place. It just happens to be a different place than it was last week. This move involved more than furniture. Kid #2 decided to write on his wall the other day. Now I don't know about you but if I was going to brave the world of permanent markers on my parents walls i would be particularly careful as to the word I chose to put down.... I know what he chose means something, I just cannot figure out what. However when he was scrubbing "pig" off the wall, most of the paint came with it. We are in the process of switching rooms and putting the boys together - so the pig room (as it has now been coined) is ours now. But I would not have it such labelled. Poor dear tolerant hubby rushed off to the paint store and now my lovely kid free pig bedroom is pumpkin spice. I love it. I had to choose something bright enough that even I could tell it was bright. I'm hoping, crossing my fingers now, that this was not an October inspired decision.

And on to the pink underwear. I took the kids to walmart last week. The big evil store is close to home and cheaper than I can thank them for. So off to evil walmart we went. I was getting the kids snow stuff (apparently just in time too) but also needed new underwear. Did you know that rash decisions are made in times of great stress? Stress like when the baby is crying and wants down and the older kids want to go back and look at the toys they know I'll never buy? Stress like, this is the first time in like three years I've been brave enough to even buy my own underwear. (Remember legally blind now and asking for visual assistance in this area of the store is not so much fun) Stress like, read that size, find that price, no honey you can't have those pretty argyle socks. Stress like, there is no dinner waiting for us when we finally get home and who has the energy to make it? Stress like, and here is the kicker, being colourblind in the underwear section at walmart. Stress like two older kids who think it's kind of funny once in awhile to pull a fast one on mommy when she wants to know what colour something is. All that being blogged.... let me just say it takes a special kind of person to want to wear pink underwear. But it takes an entirely different kind of person to wear them out of defeat.

I am defeated.... by a nine, six and one year old.

Okay, times up.... off to run.

ADO WORLD.

flightless birds

On this day, the day we all sit and celebrate turkey murder, I deemed it appropriate to discuss a number of things - but most importantly our dear friends the domesticated flightless birds.

My first thought on our domesticated friends is, wow it must suck being you. Welcome to our domesticated lifestyle; born inside, live inside, die inside. And of course, even though we may not eat the cat, you and your penned swine friends ultimately wine up on our plates. You are born not knowing that your ancestors and wild friends do fly - up to 55 miles per hour (so google tells me). All you know is what's in front of you. And that - dear bloggers - is one of my astonishing and thought provoking points of the day.

Kid #1 asked me yesterday as she went to bed why I am running? I thought about that. Why? It isn't like I am endlessly running, it isn't a habit - gosh it is still a pain in the butt. Leave my bed, go outside in the cold? Lose my breathe? What for? My answer to her was, because as your mother I felt a big responsibility to stay alive for a very long time and running helps keep me healthy in order to do that. She was astonished that mothers had to think about these things. She also wanted to know why I was cooking after everyone went to bed, or doing the laundry. Because, according to her, this would be a good time to eat ice cream and watch tv. It was an interesting conversation.

It's very easy to slip into a routine that is too comfortable. Being happy does not necessarily mean sticking to what you know. And my last astonishing point of the morning is this; we are flightless and some might even venture to suggest that we are also domesticated too.

Strength

Strength. It takes courage to even spell the word - and yet here I am typing it. Laying it out there for the world to devour, etching it in web space... how brave of me.

So here is my thought. We all have varying degrees of strength, and what I find interesting is that our opinions on what strength is, or what kind of strength in general we talk about - don't correspond with our varying degrees of personal strength. There is the strength that lifts heavy things and is thus important to a person who relies on their ability for sustenance, or an athlete who deliberately practices lifting things. There is the strength of my cup of coffee. And this, make no mistake, udders huge importance in my ability to maintain homeostasis. There is the strength of someone who constantly deals with others troubles.... like a counsellor or a foster parent. Then there is this moment, this thought that occupied my brain at 3:30am this morning. There is a category all its own for mommy strength.

In this group we have things like; the ability to not sleep and still function for months on end, the capability of moving beyond the yellow crayoned writing of the nine yr old on the chair that read 'I hate mom', the magical realisation that there will never in fact be enough dark chocolate in the world and that that is okay; learned agility to maneuver over public comments on my mothering style (because we all know that people who witness 30 seconds of an interaction are much more knowledgeable than the mom who has put in nearly ten years) .... and i think, my fantastic acting/makeup skills at being able to put on a smiling face in the most miserable moment because I know being miserable means a terrible afternoon with the kids. Mommy strength goes a long way. I know some other mommies that deserve awards for theirs.

So today I'm celebrating my mommy strength - and as Q says, I'm doing my victory lap singing to myself "we are the champions".....

Running log update: I broke the 50 km marker but only just barely as I had my first experience with deliberate hills. I'll be adding another 3.5 very shortly.

Timeless

Some things are timeless. Some memories last for what feels like eternity. Some people leave such a mark on your soul that they are, to you, unchanging. We'd like to remember them as they were. They, of course, are quite pleased with their personal growth and adaptability. Humans, as a collective (collective because we are most certainly not a herd, or family or swarm) as a collective then, are adaptable. But for some reason we see the characters in our memories as unchanging, as stuck reliving that time in their lives over and over again. I remember thinking as I grew up that everyone else around me was just there to watch. Look at me grow up. Very egocentric I know. Give me a break I was like two at the time and not a fan of higher thinking.... just play dough and stealing my sister's toys.



There are, now at my ripe old age, many things I have come to know as in constant flux and change. Timeless has become a concept for retro attachments and baby's memory books. Kid #2 started losing teeth. It's scary because he made it 6.5 years without any change and now - just all the sudden.... BANG teeth falling out. The ages and stages of my kids lives are only timeless in my memory. The crawling, walking, first words.... it's all changing. I've been in school now for a full five weeks. I've been running now for six. Time isn't standing still. Time is stealing itself away from me while I sleep. (or try to), while I ride the bus, while I type the words that are trapped inside longing to come out... time ticking away. I chose Massage Therapy because of the flexibility the career offers to me for the kids. I chose now as a good time to do it for two reasons; 1, we are broke, and 2. the kids are not incredibly old. The three years that this program is going to take will fly by without notice unless there are documented, detailed and memorized. I hate missing out on the moments that I'm away - and yet you learn to appreciate time more when you do leave, for intermittent seconds here and there.

My morning rant ends here - and my musical quote is from FF who says "for a moment".... so today i am deep breathing in the moments and remembering that I am not timeless.....

My running log - I'm behind on updates - Yesterday I ran my personal best 4.5 km (in the dark in the park with my group) in 33 minutes (although that may have something to do with fear of bears) this brings my total up to around 49km. The cell dollar today is trading high at 98.7 ATP.