Goals for the Summer

I sat with the boys the other night at dinner and the conversation went a little like this:
Me: what did you guys do today?
CJ: played with Julia. Her brothers were there.
Me: Oh yeah? How old are her brothers?
CJ: Old. Like, I think 52. They're in kindergarten.

Later that night, I went to my school's graduation. My role there allowed me not only to help get the graduates ready backstage, but also to sit with them during the ceremony. As I helped pin flowers on the gowns, I'm pretty sure I got a contact high from one kid. "I hate you right now for smoking before your graduation," I told him. His response? "I know, my mom told me the same thing." And in that single moment, my mind instantly launched ahead about 14 years. Is that a conversation I might have with my son someday??

We walked down the long aisle at the theater and I watched in admiration as these young adults paraded proudly to their seats. Here it was: the moment they had been waiting for. And again, I looked around and reflected. I was seated amongst KIDS who had been forced to act like adults well before their time. KIDS who were parents, who were caretakers for their own caretakers, who left midterm exams early in order to get to a full-time job on time. KIDS living with life threatening illnesses, and KIDS wondering where they were sleeping that night. KIDS. Robbed of their childhoods. And in that moment, I couldn't have been prouder of them.

So we hugged, cheered, cried, and parted ways. Them: in to the rest of their lives, and Me: to start preparing my own kids for the rest of theirs. We've got two months together to reach some very serious goals. Yay for summer!

Goal number four- potty train Ty. Goal number three- find something to do with the mass amount of toys in this house that does not include apologizing to visitors for possibly sitting on, stepping on, or tripping over them. Goal number two- Go to the gym. A lot.

So far this summer (and it's only been two days) we've picked strawberries, finger painted with shaving cream, played with hoses, colored on the driveway, and visited with friends we haven't seen in a while. Ty's worn diapers both days, I'm pretty sure that Lightening McQueen is shoved between my couch cushions right now, and I'm waiting till tomorrow to start the whole gym routine. Why? Because Goal number one is most important to me- PRESERVE INNOCENCE. (And pray that they'll remember what a glorious childhood I gave them, and decide NOT to show up at graduation high).

Happy Summer!!

Plodding Along

when i first got challenged to run a 5K back in january, i pretty much laughed out loud. let's be real: running in my world is for special occasions. like being chased by something mean and ferocious. and that is it. yet after some thought and serious consideration, i thought to myself, "why the heck can't i run a 5K? stop making friggin' excuses, and get moving". and so the journey began.

with my ipod in and my laces tied tight, i set out very early one icy morning with my fingers crossed that this insanity would be my one-way-ticket out of Chubby Land. i returned approximately 17 minutes later, red, sweaty, and thankful that i hadn't broken an ankle on the 15 thousand patches of ice that were lining the winter streets. plus, my lungs literally felt as though they were icing over. i hated running.

a week (and 3 runs later) i got a little smarter and decided to take my trek indoors, only to discover that running on a treadmill sucks equally as bad (if not worse). now, not only could the entire gym see just how slowly i was moving, but i also had the added bonus of being able to witness first hand exactly how much my chubbiness jiggles when in motion. plus, i literally looked as if i was having a heart attack. and i hadn't lost a single pound. i still hated running.

fast forward about 2 months now, and give me some credit for not only sticking with a running routine, but also increasing my stamina to be able to make it about 2 and a half miles non-stop. Ok, so maybe the word "running" is a bit aggressive. i mean, speed walkers can move faster than i can. but the point is that i was doing it. something i absolutely have never done once in my life, and guess what? i still haven't lost a pound, but... i no longer hated running!!

more time goes by, and i'm now 2 weeks away from Race Day! i'm registered, i've admitted to people (and therefore to myself) that i'm committed to doing this, and i've even got a team of people who are doing this with me. i've ordered a team shirt with the name "winner" on the back. (cuz when you hate running as much as i do, then commit to it and actually make it through an entire 3 miles, i'm pretty sure that's what you are...) and then the health problems set in.

without getting in to drawn out and pretty boring details, i'll just jump ahead to the results of a bunch of tests: i was put on freaking exercise restriction!!! NOOOOOOOO!!!! i started crying right then and there in the doctor's office, not because of the possibility of some looming illness, but because, "you don't understand. this is seriously the worst thing you can be telling me. i have a 5K coming up in 2 weeks!!!!!) whoa. NEVER did i think i'd hear those words come out of my mouth.

so i didn't get to run. (even though it turns out a lot of my issue was anxiety related, so not exercising was probably the worst thing i could have done.) there are about 500 more 5Ks that i could be signing up for this summer. think i've picked even one yet? nope. (c'mon. i said i no longer hated running. that doesn't mean i exactly LIKE it.) but before the summer is over, i will. and for now, i'll keep running (or jogging, or plodding) along.