McQueen Bike

This last weekend we bought Josh his first bike.  It is a McQueen bike and he loves it.  Since Abby and Adam had a daddy daughter date planned and our favorite dog owners offered up their pooch for the weekend; I decided to take my half of the crew out to the Tow Path.  

We picked up Lainee and headed out.  It was a perfect evening.  It was still warm from the day, but cooling off as the sun was beginning to set.  I got out the stroller, the bike, and the dog.  Josh got on the bike and immediately took off.  "Yeaaaaah"  "I'm going to go sooo fast"  "Whooo hooo!" were the most common phrases he said.

For about half of the ride I jogged to keep up with him and he held lainee's leash.  We went way farther than I expected from my three year old.  He instinctively knew so much about when to pedal or slow down, to stand up when pedaling is really hard, and how to turn.  Most impressively he was not scared about big hills and handled his bike so well when going down them.  I loved every second of watching him ride his bike.  If he never sat on it again it would still be worth every penny we spent on it.

Injured

Last week I hit a mileage that I haven't seen since before Josh was born.  I also went faster than ever before.  It sounds great and I felt great doing it.  Unfortunately I didn't feel great Sunday, Monday or Tuesday.  I know how to deal with the typical IT band issues and was prepared for that kind of fall out.

This is something new.  Adam said he thought I have an inflamed patellar ligament. Ouch! Basically I feel like the lower half of my leg is going to fall off everytime I lift my leg.  It's a bit uncomfortable.  The landing feels as though the joint is being smacked back together with all the force of my weight behind it. Ouch!

Fortunately the cure isn't too complicated.  Ice, ibuprofen, and a knee brace.  Also at the end of this week I am getting new shoes that I can start running in next week.  I think this will really help me.

Since I am set back anyway I have decided to start an official half marathon training plan.  The race isn't until September BUT if I can complete the program twice then I will have a little bit of time to work on speed and could possibly set a time finish.  Also I can  possibly race in the Dirty Series 19k in July.  Super Fun.  

The Pretender

I often feel like I am just pretending to be grown up.  Being over 30 is so different from what I thought 30 would be like, even 5 years ago.  Since graduating from high school I just keep anticipating a natural maturity/growth spurt like my children experience every 6 weeks.  I keep expecting to wake up and just know all the things I am supposed to know-like homemaking and mothering skills.  Much like I used to wake up and be able to touch both ends of the bathtub at the same time or when letters became words.  I just keep hoping it will come. Preferably sudden, overnight.  Tomorrow would be great.

There is a lot of pretending in my grown up world.  My confidence in first time adulthood acts, like purchasing a home, or agreeing to watch 9 kids for unknown periods of time-it's all pretending.  I pretend to be happy for my kids and I pretend to be perfect at church (ironic I know).  I pretend to be more flawed than what I actually am if someone compliments me or if they are struggling with something I don't-something I am working to not do (I consider this part of sending a representative instead of my true self and possibly one of my most annoying traits).  I pretend to care about a lot of things that I just don't.  Like being perfect.  Or making perfect stuff.  I am the opposite of perfectionist-which I guess means I am sloppy.

On another note.

I ran another race.  It was awesome.  I can see why trail runners like to go long and fast.  My knees didn't complain at all on my fastest 6 mile race.  This morning when I waded through our concrete jungle my knees and I started a conversation after just 2 miles.  I am considering waking up even earlier to drive to a place to run-something I didn't understand until just a few weeks ago.  The quieter my body the better.

The Return

On Monday morning, in the first hour to be exact, Adam arrived home.  To be honest I had a smorgasbord of feelings.  It was taxing for people to keep asking these assumptive questions "Aren't you so excited that Adam is almost home?" And they were often unsure of what to say when I didn't pee my pants with anticipation.

It was especially hard this last week. People know that Adam has been out of the state for two months, but they don't really know how long he has been gone.  In my mind he has been really really gone for an entire year.  Between boards, school, and church he has had nothing left for home.  The few moments when he was at home was spent on the phone, texting, or studying.  Or worrying.  It was too much.

Last summer after boards I literally begged him to give up his church calling.  He felt like he was passing school as a direct blessing from performing his best at church.  I felt like he was severely neglecting his family.  It really hurt me that he didn't ask to be released and that the Stake didn't recognize what was occurring within our family.  No one in a leadership position has asked nonetheless taken into account my feelings, wants, or needs in regards to Adam being in this position initially or for so long and through such a difficult time of our lives.  Ironically in the past Adam had to give permission for me to be a  primary pianist.  

When he left, very little for us changed.  In some ways it was a relief actually.  I did and have told him that he was like living with a woman in labor.  It was stressful for him to be home.  The kids wanted his attention but he was too busy.  Always too busy.  On his way to Texas he was released.  This changed a lot for me personally. It was scary to hope that I might have my husband back.

All of these feelings have made things a little messy.  I am a lot more sensitive because I felt so hurt and so neglected.  I sound needy but the reality of it is so different.  I always thought I could be ubber supportive of any church calling Adam had.  I now know that I am one of "those" wives who have a breaking point.  One of "those" wives who might say no when asked to support him in certain callings at certain times in our lives.  I don't like that about me, but it is true.  I cannot be both a mother and a father to my children.  I cannot live in solitude and I cannot have my life constantly interrupted or changed around at the whimsy of church needs.

Now that he is home it is great.  We are making a lot of happy adjustments.  Some are hard and some are easy.  I am still a little cautious in believing that he will be here more often.  He is much happier and far less stressed- he is the person that I married ten years ago.  I have never wanted anything in my life as much as I want him home.  

What Happened to Elizabeth Brown?

Last year my life really changed.  It was all dramatic and crazy here in my head.  I've lost friendships and made new ones.  A couple of have survived the earthquake.  I really miss those old friendships but don't know how to rekindle them.  Part of it is because I have changed so much and I don't know how to reintroduce myself to people that I already know.  Part of it is because there is so much pain and I don't know how to say that I really need you to apologize-I'm not the only one who had a rough year last year.  Another part is that  I don't know who all or what all I need to apologize for.  Another part of it is that unless it's happened to you it seems like people really don't understand depression.  And finally I am terrified that it isn't over yet.

I am really scared that the clouds of have cleared just long enough to see the sun before the storm really sets in.  

Do the Dirty- A race recap

I did my first trail "race".  It was more like a group run for me, because I have never really ran on a trail before. My time was horrible (59:45) but the experience was great.  Because of the small numbers (only 95 total participants) it had a really relaxed feel.  The line for the one and only women's porta-potty was shorter than at the RiteAid race where there are literally bathrooms galore, which is always nice pre-race.  However much like a normal run there were no potty's along the way.  This is one reason that I held back.  

The race started relatively close to 8 am.  The race started next a pavilion where they made some announcements about well something about how the trail was marked but I was a little to far out to hear it clearly.  My main goal was to keep up with and then follow the crowd that heard.  

The race started and we were off.  In the first half mile or so there was plenty of room as we were running to the actual trail on a paved path.  Once we hit trail it was single file.  If I had been going to for a PR that first half mile would have proven critical in picking my spot in line.  Unless you were willing to shout out for someone to please move over or elbow your way around it was hard to find a spot to pass.

It was beautiful.  And I kept thinking how clean it was.  It was amazingly clean.  I really enjoyed the scenery and the ups and downs of the race.  Even the big hill was kind of fun-a good spot for the challenge.  And the one and only water station was at the top-perfect motivation and timing for me.  I met a girl who had as little ambition as me and we chatted for the last 5k of the race. 

 It was here that I was super glad for company because this is where the marking got fairly confusing. The arrows changed from pink to white and there was no foot path so we were dodging and poking our way through the forest.   It wasn't long before we were back on a foot path though.

The race ended the way it began and as always I sprinted to the finish.  My babies were waiting for me.  It was sweet.  There is a next time on the horizon for sure.  

Alone

Dear March

At the beginning of March someone said something to me that I have thought about a lot.  It doesn't seem profound unless you are a mom.  This innocent person mentioned something about me being alone.  The thought was so ludicrous to me.  Me?  Alone?  I could write a Dr Suess-esk poem about how unalone I am.

I am not alone in the kitchen, or the hall,
I am not alone in the bathroom, or bouncing a ball.
I am not alone when I am on the phone,
I am not alone when I scream and moan.
I am not alone when I walk or run,
I am not alone when I sit on my bum.
I cannot think the last time I was alone,
in my life this sets a tone.
The company I keep is younger,
for their mom they hunger.
Grown ups are rarely seen,
by this mom who can be mean.
Never alone, never alone,
This mom is never alone.

There.  My poem.  I was telling my brother what I would do if I could.  I would go to lunch by myself.  Not a friend or foe to talk too.  The only person I would say words too would be the waitress and it would be as few as possible.  It would be hours long.  Then maybe I would go to the movies.  Alone.  I would definitely go to the bathroom just because I could be alone.  I would want to shop at a clothing store just to experience it without utter humiliation. I would also shower and revel in the aloneness, the sacred aloneness.