Deer in a Trance

We had been running for five miles and I was starting to complain and lose my focus. Thor was talking to me about something - probably something motivational to keep me moving - when I saw the deer. It stood broadside, directly ahead of us at the point where the trail turns to the right. "Look! Look, look, look, look!!" I whispered excitedly, pointing like a little kid. Then Thor saw it too. We got somewhere within 20 yards of this deer without it moving. She just stood there watching, no doubt thinking she must be dreaming to see me running like that. It felt a little surreal to me, as well.

Yesterday was a milestone day for me. I ran farther than I ever have before. My GPS and Thor's GPS were not in sync - his said 10.75 miles and mine said 8.44 - but, based on other factors, we deduced that the total run was at least ten miles. TEN MILES! I'll give you a minute to let that sink in...

...

It's useless, isn't it? I'm still waiting for it to sink in myself! I'm trying not to think about the fact that I need to do the same thing next weekend. Oh boy...

It wasn't easy. Thor makes it look easy but don't let him fool you - he's a superhero, remember? The times that I walked, which were frequent once we hit the 5 mile mark, he ran backwards. He didn't walk at all. Ever. He's a marathon runner so this was cake for him.

mmmm cake sounds good.... where was I?

Thor said I need a mantra, something to say while I'm running to keep me moving. I'm going to have to give that some thought. It is definitely mental for me. I have noticed that my mind is ready to quit long before my body is.

This is what's keeping me on track so far with running:

1. Friends like Hurricane Becky saying they are impressed and giving me kudos for my dedication.
2. Friends like KC who are going through the same kind of training, and not wanting to let them down.
3. My husband telling me how thin I'm beginning to look, and how toned my legs are becoming.
4. Friends like Thor and Medl and Bowes and KC who don't stop and walk when I start complaining, but encourage me to push through my mental battles and conquer this.

See how important people are? Everyone needs a support system and I have the best!

Red-Tailed Hawk

On the way to work yesterday I was treated to an awesome display of nature in action. A red-tailed hawk, wings lifted up and talons forward, dove toward its prey in the tall grass below. It was beautiful, spectacular, powerful, and fierce. I watched its descent with fascination, glad for the red light that gave me time to watch without incident. For me, it was art in motion. It captured my imagination and left me feeling very fortunate to have witnessed it. I'm sure its prey felt differently.

For several weeks, probably months, after my twins were born, I experienced an emotionally painful period of isolation. My husband had to work and I was home with two infants, a toddler, and a preschooler, wishing for someone to talk to. People would sometimes tell me, "I drove past your house today." It hurt, knowing the world was passing me by at 25-30 miles per hour outside my front door, while no one took the time to stop in.

They thought they were doing me a favor, letting me enjoy the time with my children without interruption. Not wanting to disturb me. But to me, it felt like abandonment. I didn't reach out to anyone either. I didn't want to be a burden or make someone feel obligated to keep me company. I felt like I had figured out "who my real friends are", and that there were none.

Knowing how that felt, I try to keep in touch with friends, especially if they seem like they are isolated or hurting. I'm not perfect at it, but I really try. Occasionally I'll send a message to someone just to let them know I'm thinking of them. That I'm still there. I've mentioned this before. I am not looking for a response, just taking the opportunity to encourage my friend.

Suddenly another scenario has been occupying my mind. And it has me second-guessing this approach... what if they think I'm stalking them??

Someone I know has been complaining about a friend who seems too interested in her. She calls her a stalker because the person keeps seeking her out. She has nicknamed this person her "BFF" but only in sarcasm. She wants to hide when she sees her coming.

Is there a fine line between a loyal friend and a stalker? I suppose it depends on the person on the receiving end. I saw a hawk attack as beautiful but its prey undoubtedly thought otherwise. Are my attempts at outreach beautiful - or unwelcome?

Groundhogs and Bunnies

The air was hot and humid and, even though the temperatures were lower than the last few mornings, it still felt oppressive. We ran slow and easy - well, maybe it didn't feel easy but we weren't pushing ourselves hard this morning. I've made a habit of looking for wildlife along the trail because it takes my mind off the work. Today we saw a bunny and it saw us, too. It just sat there watching us run past. Up ahead, a groundhog saw us and took off full speed. I had no idea they could move so fast! It reminded me of the tortoise and the hare. The fast one sat still while the slow one dashed ahead.

Two years ago I decided to start running. I found a training program called "Couch to 5K", which promises to take even the most devoted couch potato and prepare them to run a 5K in nine weeks. I was skeptical. The first time I had to run for 30 seconds, it felt like a very big victory. Nine weeks later I ran a 5K in 34 minutes. It was cold and rainy that day and I ran the entire distance without walking. It was a very proud moment for me. A milestone, to say the least.

I've done other runs since then. Now I'm training for a half marathon and wondering what I got myself into! The schedule I'm following has me running four days a week, no less than three miles each time. Yesterday I had to run six.

I ran with three friends from boot camp: Thor, Bobby Mach, and Fiona. Talking to Thor before we began, I almost called myself "a runner," but caught myself, still unable to say it. You would think, after two years of semi-consistent running, and in the midst of a 4-day-a-week running program, I might not struggle with that, but I do. Why is that?

My theory is that a label comes with expectations. Ones you will either live up to, or fail in. If I call myself a runner, I'm opening myself up to criticism and potential failure. It is scary enough to sign up for a race you're not sure you can handle, but to identify with a group of people who are often better than you takes guts!

The hare didn't have to prove he was fast. Everyone knows that. Even when he isn't running, he's still a runner. The tortoise may not be fast, but his consistency made him a runner. Like Thor said to me:

You're a runner because you run.

Diving In

I sat, sunning myself on the giant rock in the lake, trying to get a little color on my skin, and hoping the color wouldn't be red. My husband had helped our beagle up onto the rock as well. The dog was tired from swimming and it was easier than taking him to the bank. My family splashed and played in the water while I relaxed. My eyes were closed when I heard a loud splash right behind me. I looked just in time to see my beagle's head emerge from the water as he doggy-paddled over to join the fun. It was a funny moment, seeing my ten-year-old beagle do something so impulsive and bold. 

There is something to be said for impulsiveness. The biggest decision of my life - getting married - was made within 5 months of meeting the guy. It was a logical decision, since we were doomed to either a long-distance relationship or a lifetime of wondering what if? otherwise. Yet getting married is a decision normally given much more time than even that five short months of getting to know him. By the world's standards, that was extremely impulsive.

Odd to think that the commitment of doing crossword puzzles in ink shows confidence, but marrying someone you've only known a few months results in skepticism and assumptions by those around you. If my friend's mom was right in her adamant conviction that I was knocked up, my oldest was seven years overdue. I would have thought the longest pregnancy in history would have gotten me some kind of recognition - and compensation - by Guinness but I still haven't heard from them.

We were told we were too young. That we were not going to last. A relative I will not name actually took bets at my bridal shower how long this marriage will last. I should have gotten in on that bet. We are 22 years strong. We still hold hands and kiss each other good night and want to tell each other all about our day. That impulsive decision turned out to be the right one.

I've always been impulsive. Every babysitter we've ever had learned very quickly that when we call to see if they are available, we mean right now. I decide I want to do something and I just don't want to wait!

I've made a couple of decisions recently that I actually spent a lot of time considering before acting on. One was a change I needed to make at work. I didn't want to make this change but I needed to, and only a few people know the real reason for that. It's a decision that took me months to commit to. I hope I don't regret it.

The other decision is more personal and I'm not going to get into details yet. Only a few people are in on this decision, too. I am not worried that I will regret it. I just don't want anyone trying to change my mind. I'm very excited about it and my husband is supportive of it and that's all that matters.

And of course there is that half marathon I mentioned  a few weeks ago. I'm still training for that. Life is getting interesting and I'm feeling pretty good about it. :-)

Rainbows

We sat on the deck, drinking our morning coffee and watching the rain taper off. It was a peaceful morning. The kids were still sleeping and we didn't have any special plans put on hold by the weather. My husband, looking at the suddenly blue sky, remarked, "there might be a rainbow, since the sun is shining." I jumped up and hurried out into the yard to see if I could spot one. Nothing. I went to the edge of the lake and searched the sky for any displays of color. Nothing. But the idea that it could happen left me smiling all day. It was a beautiful thought.

My mom likes to say that looking forward to something is half the fun. I think so too. For months leading up to our vacation in Maine, I daydreamed about what we would do there. Now that we've returned home, I'm looking forward to the next big thing on the calendar.

I think most people, like me, enjoy looking forward to things. People say they live for Fridays (or paychecks, or vacation...). Anticipation of something fun or relaxing or otherwise gratifying helps us get through challenging days at the office. It keeps us sane through chaotic days when the kids have us frazzled. It is the "happy place" we let our minds go to when people around us drive us crazy. It is a happy form of hope.

Then there is the other kind of hope. Hope that things will get better. Hope that a loved one will pull through a difficult illness. Hope that there is a light at the end of the dark tunnel we may be in. Hope that someone may find what they need: a job, a home, someone to love.

This is the hope we cling to when it feels like everything is out of our control. When it feels like our world is caving in on us. It's our lifeline.

Sometimes it's a struggle to hold on to that hope. Sometimes we need to be reminded to hang on and not grow tired of hoping. A few people I know are in need of reminders. It doesn't take much. A kind word. A simple "I'm thinking of you today."

If this brought someone to mind, reach out to them. And don't wait for a response. It might be all they can do to hear it.

Camp Fries

I sat with my son on my lap, a blanket wrapped around us to keep us warm from the evening breeze and the after-effects of too much sun. We watched our host preparing our dinner over the campfire. He made it look so easy, a result of decades of guide experience. After a long, exhausting day canoeing down the St. Croix River, it was nice to be taken care of. The smells of chicken and camp fries with onions roasting wafted over us, creating a powerful anticipation of a good meal - and good company.

One thing that made our vacation in Maine so special was the way our host - my friend's dad - treated us like family. He checked in on us every day to make sure we were having a good time and didn't need anything. He recommended fun things to do that he knew we would like. He stopped by to visit. He seemed to really enjoy our kids and our dog. He made us feel at home, without ever having met us prior to this trip. He felt very much like a dad.

My dad passed away in '95. Once in a while, I get that feeling of longing, wishing I could talk to my dad and tell him what's going on with the kids. He's never met them. I think he would have liked this guy who treated us so well while we were so far from home. I would love to tell him all about the memorable things we saw and did. He would enjoy seeing the pictures.

Our families are very disconnected, some by distance and some by conflict. Unfortunately, some by lack of interest. My husband and I talk a lot about how we want things to be when our kids grow up. For one thing, we want to be active grandparents. The kind that invite their grandkids over to spend the night or take the grandkids to the zoo. We'd like to have occasional get-togethers that don't have to be gift-oriented holidays full of expectation and stress, but simply dinner or a day at the beach.

I suppose most parents feel this way, but somehow, families seem to unravel somewhere along the line. This is why our family vacation is so important to us. We try to choose places where we are sure to stay connected, exploring places and sharing experiences in our little family unit. We want our children to create bonds and memories that will keep them connected as they grow older and move into their own lives and little family units. And to create those memories that will carry us through when we're apart.

Bald Eagles

The water was so calm it barely made a sound beneath our canoes. We stared up at a huge nest in the tree, fascinated by the majestic presence of the bald eagle. The eagle graciously sat still while we took pictures. I looked around at the other islands, thinking they would be fun for exploring later in the week. Gazing across the water, I spotted our cabin, just to the left of the blue pontoon boat, which was almost too far away to be visible. That cabin, our canoes, and our family was all that mattered. The rest of the world was miles away.

Coming home from vacation feels a lot like falling out of the sky. Back to reality. Back to demands and responsibilities and traffic and chaos. We all felt it, stuck beneath the George Washington Bridge in New York City, with the windows open because we had no air conditioner in the car and the heat on to prevent it from overheating. It had to be at least 100 degrees outside with the sun beating down on us. Tempers were short, patience wearing thin. The kids didn't complain during the trip, but I could tell reality was settling in on them when they started asking to have friends sleep over before we even got home.

For five glorious days we lived in the most perfect place we could imagine this side of heaven. Five days of enjoying the kind of carefree summer fun that adults always wish they could get back. We paddled around in canoes, went fishing, swam in the lake and the river, made campfires, roasted marshmallows, and simply enjoyed being together.

We saw animals everywhere: several families of ducks, a family of grouse, several loons, bald eagles, kingfishers, a racoon, a beaver, deer... my husband caught a garter snake and a pickerel frog to show to the kids, and to let me take pictures.

Our cabin was right on the lake. At night we could hear the loons as we sat by the campfire. We could hear the water lapping at the bank. We did not hear traffic, neighbors arguing, doors slamming, or dogs barking. As we sat there one evening, watching the fire, I said to my husband, "I wish I could bottle up the way I feel right now and take it home with me to use every time I get stressed out."

Being away in that outdoor wonderland really helped me to focus on what is really important. My family was there and we didn't need anything else. It was so much easier to see that without the distractions of everyday life. It felt like we were soaring, weightless. Like eagles.

I'm doing everything I can to bottle that feeling I had by the campfire. I took more than enough pictures to drive my kids crazy. I am writing down my memories and thoughts about the vacation. It's the best I can do to preserve that amazing moment in time when the world stood still and let us breathe.

Searching...

I sat on a little mat next to the creek, watching the kids play in the water and my husband catching crayfish. It was hot, even in the shade, and felt very much like vacation. A long weekend works wonders. I picked up my phone to see if there were any text messages but there was no signal. The corner where it shows the bars displayed the word "searching..." I didn't mind. It was good to be away from technology, even if just a few hundred yards away. I leaned back and rested my head, closed my eyes, and absently stroked my dog's damp fur, as he rested next to me in the shade.

This is one of my faults: I try too hard to read between the lines. I try to find the subtext in what someone is saying. It is exhausting, searching for meaning that may or may not be there. I feel like I'm extremely sensitive to sarcasm. As well-disguised as one might think it is, I can assure you it's not lost on me. But sometimes I look for it where it might not be.

I really need to learn to take things at face value. Here's what that looks like: yesterday I sent a text to a friend. She never answered. Not until this morning. It never bothered me and I never wondered if she was upset with me, because I knew that she would tell me if there was a problem.

I need to apply that logic to every relationship. Maybe there is hidden meaning or subtext, but it's not my job to read minds. Frankly, I suck at it. My husband told me, when we first met, "a man is only as good a his word." That really stuck with me and I need to put it into practice now. If there is some hidden agenda to someone's words, that is their problem. Why should I make it mine?

Taking words at face value should really help conserve my emotional energy. Less time spent searching for hidden meaning, and worrying over every little word someone says, frees me up to read the signals people want me to read.

Like when the dear friend from yesterday said she is happy that I am in her life.

Twenty Two

We walked along, hand in hand, along the wooded path. Occasionally, he pointed out a flower, told me what kind it was, then cut one for me. As my bouquet grew, I marveled at how much this simple gesture meant to me. I could almost imagine the scene from outside myself, as though it played on a movie screen with soft edges and romantic background music. We've been through lots of ups and downs together: successes and failures, the births of our children, arguments and forgiveness. And he still holds my hand and stops to pick flowers for me, after over 22 years of marriage.

I went to church this morning. Ten did a great job with her message. At the beginning she prayed that God would use her message to encourage someone and I can tell you He answered.

Over the last few months, I've had some difficult times with relationships. What I learned today was that some relationships are steadfast, and don't depend on circumstances. One of those who have been steadfast in my life is my husband. He knows I'm not perfect. He doesn't expect me to be. He knows when I hurt and he cares. He also knows when I'm wrong and how to tell me without destroying me. He knows how to admit his own faults and how to forgive mine. He loves me for who I am.

After church I had lunch and a long walk with my friend Marianne. She is also steadfast. I can talk to her about anything and she doesn't judge me. She knows how to confront an issue without destroying a friendship. She also doesn't expect me to be perfect. She knows the things I struggle with and shares her struggles with me. We don't see each other every day - in fact, I haven't seen her since March. That has not threatened our friendship, because it's real.

Almost every day I email with my friend Tracey. She moved out of state a few years ago but she is still a steadfast part of my life. She is a confidante. She is candid and open and non-judgmental. She discusses deep topics with me and asks the hard questions that make me think. She knows I'm nowhere near perfect, but it has no effect on our friendship.

And then there is God. Steadfast. Ten pointed out that He is always there. Whether I'm in the valley, or in the ocean's depths, or lost in my own personal struggles, He is there with me. I hadn't thought about that in quite a while. I'm pretty sure she got it from Psalm 139. I need to read it again.

What a thought, He is with me every single step I take, whether I acknowledge Him or not. He knows I'm not perfect. But He wants to perfect me. And He's the only one who can.

Lenape

They were fishing at Lake Lenape and my husband needed another worm for bait. Our little boy, even at the age of three, knew when it was time to take action. He looked around for a bit, then saw a robin pull a worm out of the ground, and, for the good of the mission, ran to the bird. The robin flew away, leaving behind the worm, a proud child, a stunned father, and a very funny story.

Last night I had no intention of going to boot camp. I was, yet again, feeling defeated. I don't know what's wrong with me lately! But after exchanging a few texts with Crazy Dukes, I felt rejuvenated. I couldn't wait for the alarm to go off so I could go work out with everyone. It amazes me all the time how one well-timed nice comment can turn your whole world around.

I was so glad I went. Today, the responsibility of leading the whole class fell on the shoulders of a very strong and capable, yet slightly nervous, member of the DDIP family. We call her Tamato. She set aside her nerves and took charge of that class like a pro. I was so proud of her - and inspired by her! We had a great workout, followed by my favorite, a trail run. I love the woods so much! I felt like I conquered something by doing what I didn't think I could do - going in and pushing through with enthusiasm, when I didn't think I had it in me. Time to take it to the next level.

So I just registered for a half marathon. It's a 13.1 mile trail run, taking place in September. It's bigger than me. I have never run that far in my life. I'm a little nervous, now that I made the commitment, but I have learned over the last year to believe in myself. Funny thing to be learning at my age (don't ask), but you don't know what you can do until you do it.

Two years ago, I didn't think I could run for five minutes straight. So I trained for a 5K. A year ago, I didn't think I could run more than 4 miles, so I stuck with Fiona and she got me to run 8. What I noticed each time was that incredible feeling of accomplishment I got from doing what I didn't think I could do. It's much more satisfying than doing something I've done before.

The fears and obstacles that stand in the way of a goal can be a deterrent if we let them, but they also spice up the reward if we go for it. The bigger the challenge, the sweeter the victory!