Right Where I Belong

It’s been a whirlwind of a life between Thanksgiving and Christmas this year. I only went one place to shop on “Black Friday” and that was to the realtor’s office. We put an offer in on a house after seeing it the previous Sunday. On Sunday at the open house I had no intention of this being the house. The location was right, and that’s what mattered the most, still within the limits of my neighborhood of 12 years. Well, after spending 45 minutes in this house it was evident that it was indeed the house.

By the motivation of driving by the “new” house four times a day to get to and from my kids’ school we were able to get our house cleaned, de-cluttered and neutralized in just over a week’s time in order to get on the market. The “new” house can only be ours if we sell the house we are in now. I can honestly say I have only been as exhausted as I’ve been in the past three weeks two other times in my life: when I was pregnant!

Our “new” house is still within our trick or treating boundary and when I told a friend how close we were moving she laughed at the idea. My neighborhood is filled with neighbors with an abundance of kindness I thought only existed on TV. Yesterday I brought one of my neighbors, who I don't see very often who is in her 80s, mail that was accidentally delivered to me. WE were hurriedly heading to my kids’ concerts at school and then heading out of town.

She told me she and other neighbors were sad to see the “For Sale” sign go up in my yard. I had called a few close neighbors ahead of time, but not everyone. She said that she understood that our family needed more space and have outgrown our home. I told her where we'd be moving and how we looked at houses in other areas but they didn't feel right because I love this neighborhood. Her reply was simple, "That's because you belong here." She warmed my heart and made me feel so thankful for bringing the envelope to her door rather than simply giving it back to the mail carrier.

One of life's basic needs is the feeling of belonging.

May you all be where you feel you belong this holiday week.

Replacing Annoyance with Gratitude

I’m annoyed! So annoyed that I want to run. It’s moments like this that I realize that deep inside I am a runner. I don’t have a lot of stress in my life, but when it arises my first, okay maybe second, thought is “I want to go run this off”. Now, with that said I only had 40 minutes before I had to pick my kids up from school so inside of running I paced my house and ate a great deal of the pan of brownies my son made yesterday with milky way bars. So, now I feel sick to my stomach, instead of feeling pissed (okay maybe it was more than feeling annoyed). BUT I have a run planned for the morning and it will be fueled by the feeling of 30 minutes ago.

Now, I think, is a good time for writing the blog post that’s been running in my mind lately…Thankfulness/Gratitude and what it means to me, in no particular order.

1. I have consciously and successfully surrounded myself with positive, loving, genuine and caring people.

2. My grad school program focused on counseling and self-care.

3. I am raising confident, respectful and compassionate children.

4. I live within my means, even if I dream of more I am thankful for what I have every day rather than focusing on what I don’t have (most days).

5. Running and all that it has given me: supportive, awesome friends who run with me, and the feelings of strength and accomplishment.

6. My cat.

7. My amazing neighbors who look out for my kids as if they were their own grandchildren; the least I can do is help shovel driveways and share food (mostly, but not always desserts).

8. My husband’s support of me being a stay at home mom….working part-time when it fits in with my #1 job: mom.

The list must end here, time to get the kids from school!

Monday Night Football Under the Lights

I watched the most exciting football game last night. There were lights, fireworks, a tunnel for the players to run out of and through fog while their names were announced, the field was spray painted in color with logos and words, there was a trophy and medals and music played loud. The score was tied several times throughout the game and the underdogs came through to win the game by one after completing a two-point conversion in overtime!

I cheered loud, my heart was in my stomach a few times, but in the end my son’s flag football team beat an undefeated team they had lost to twice this season to win the city-wide Park n Rec bowl game.

The temperature was mild but after a day of light rain it misted through most of the game. My son is in 4^th grade and I found myself, more than once, during the game picturing the future. Is this what it will be like if he plays high school football? Do I hope he plays high school football? Honestly, not really, if flag football was a varsity sport I’d be all for it, but the danger of concussions down right terrify me. In baseball and soccer (his other sports of choice) there are dangers of dislocated or broken bones, but bones heal, brain injuries are permanent.

Being a University of Alabama alum I have watched and cheered on many college football players who make it into the NFL, but in the end when their football career is over I often wonder if their college education has prepared them for life after football. My mom gene also causes me to worry about the guys who choose the NFL draft over completing their degree.

Speculation, analyzing and negativism aside I am so proud of my son’s team for working together and giving their families and friends a great night of Monday Night Football!

Running Rut

I began this school year in a running rut, much like last year. I thought I was really excited to get back into a running routine that included running three times a week, but it has been slow to materialize. Last Wednesday I had a great five-mile run, that came after a miserable 3-mile walk/run a few days earlier. I didn’t run many races this past summer and I think that’s what I need to motivate me right now. Well, during my great five-mile run I found myself focused on two races I am excited about running, one in the near future, one still a year away.

In a few weeks I will be running a 10K called the Chocoholic Frolic! I registered for this race over two hours away because I have never been so excited for a race before. Not only is there a chocolate fountain as part of the post race food, but the day before there is a running and chocolate expo! This one is going to be fun! Oh and they recently announced a mini chocolate cupcake will accompany one of the water stops along the race course.

Next October I have mentally committed myself to running the Hartford Half-Marathon; hopefully with my husband and two junior high friends who also would have never thought about running a mile for fun 25 years ago, let alone 13.1 of them.

So, for the next few weeks I will focus on Chocolate and Hartford as I run. 

My Head is All Blogged Up

I haven’t posted a blog in quite awhile, not from a lack of ideas though. My mind has a continual blog running through my mind. How it doesn’t all get typed up is beyond me.

I went to a Volunteer Appreciation breakfast this morning. I love volunteering and I love being appreciated, I also happen to love The Parenting Place (enough to bake for their silent auction two years running now), so I was excited to attend. They had a great inspirational and to me, motivating speaker, which is probably what is leading me to writing tonight. She calls herself a personal historian, you can hire her to interview you, and she’ll write your story, memoir, or family history for you. I love the idea of this, but I’d miss out on the writing portion of the project. It’s true I haven’t written in awhile, and I have missed it.

I think about the power of the written word, especially in its handwritten state and that is the one thing my blog is lacking, but when I began the blog I told myself that I would still try to journal and take notes on my kids’ great words using pen and paper.

Beside the dishes I use every day and the photographs hanging, my favorite inheritances from my mom are the thoughts and words she put to paper using a pen, most often a fountain pen, and later in life the fountain pen she bought during our trip to Australia.

The speaker this morning gave us questions to get “in the mood” for talking about our family history. I didn’t verbally share too much, but I sure enjoyed the thoughts that were triggered in my mind.

Think of a relative who has died who you would love to learn more about. Why do you want to know more from or about this person? What questions would you ask this person if you could and why? A sense of relief washed over me when I thought about the poems, diaries, and journals I have of my mother’s. What a relief that I can read her deepest thoughts and feelings. I guarantee you that before I go to bed tonight I will read some of them. She always liked to ask questions like, what have you learned from me? What do you remember from when you were younger? As I get older I find myself asking those very same questions.

Shortly after her diagnosis of lung cancer I took these questions to heart and collected many stories about her from friends, family and her colleagues and what I came up with was a wonderful book to give her for Hanukkah that year. I treasure this book, especially for the stories from people I have never met, the stories that I shake my head reading and think to myself, yep that was my mom. I am so thankful to not only have these stories for my children, but also to have been able to have given them to her. That book was right up there with in the top 5 best gifts I’ve ever given her; I’m pretty sure her two grandchildren would be numbers one and two.

We’re All Connected

There are people I see regularly throughout town, out my car window or in my neighborhood. They are people I have never talked to, but would notice if I didn’t see them for a while, some I even worry about if months have gone by without our paths crossing.

There is one such person on my mind tonight. She’s a woman I see walking frequently in my area of town (a little larger area than my neighborhood). She is always wearing a long skirt with sneakers and is a quick walker. I’ve often wondered her story, is she walking for leisure, transportation, where does she live, does she have family in the area? I see her so often; sometimes many times a month, sometimes not for weeks. Last year there was a woman hit and killed by a train nearby, no information was ever released in the newspaper other than that one line. I actually worried that it was this particular woman and that no one knew, the thought saddened me. I searched the paper and online for weeks in hopes of seeing a photo posted somewhere. I eventually saw her walking and was so relieved it was not her.

Tonight our paths crossed again, this time at a baseball game, she was sitting just two rows in front of a friend of mine and was carrying on a conversation with him. I finally met this woman I already felt connected to. We had a great conversation covering a variety of topics. She walks for both transportation and leisure. Not because she has to, but because she wants to, she doesn’t live far from me, was at the game with her son and I could have talked with her for many more innings. I now have a name to go with the face I would recognize anywhere.

My heart is happy in the same way as being the one to put the last piece in 1,000 piece puzzle.

Makes me wonder who would notice if they hadn’t seen me for a while, what about you?

There is one person I cross paths with often two or more times a week while I run and he walks. We shared a brief conversation last Thanksgiving after he saw my husband on the path and mentioned he hadn’t seen me for a while (I had been sick and unmotivated to run). He notices me and the fact that he noticed I hadn’t been running in weeks made me tie my laces and get out there so I could cross paths with him. I thanked him for noticing I hadn’t been out in awhile.  Hmmm, but I still don’t know his name. Maybe I’ll ask him next time, or maybe I’ll just smile and say, “Good morning” as usual.

Ironically, when a man was hit and killed by a car nearby I worried it was him. Once it was released the man was blind, I knew it wasn’t him, but it made me realize how connected our paths are.

Who would you notice was gone from your life, yet have never met them?

Running (Shoe) Retirement

My running story told in shoes and four of the toes that have worn them because I don't know how to crop the photo.

My blue pair of running shoes were retired in late October after getting plantar fascititis in my left foot. Only after a few people asked did I realize I had run about 700 miles in those great Asics. 300 miles later my pink Asics are being transferred from my “runners” box to my “old runners” box on my closet shelf. Did you catch that?! I’ve run 1,000 miles since December 2011!!

700 miles was much too late to retire shoes and I was worried that 300 was too soon, then I started having knee discomfort when I ran and saw that my soles were wearing unevenly. After looking into it, I discovered 300-500 miles is the right time for retirement. Mine are opting for early retirement.

So, what’s life like for my “old runners” you may wonder. Oh it’s a good life. They get to take off my Road ID and let the laces underneath breathe. They get worn for walking, living and playing, no longer just for running. Although they are too worn for running in, they feel like a great pair of new sneakers. Today, for example they get to experience what it’s like to play soccer.

I keep two pairs of old runners at a time, and then donate them so they can live on. This last time it was to the local Goodwill, next time I hope to donate them internationally. 

I already have my next pair of running shoes in my closet and I can’t wait for my next run in my new rainbow runners!

8/5/13