I'm still feeling kind of down...a few days ago, it was over the loss, or more accurately, the realization of the loss of what I thought were two good friendships. Today I'm feeling down over our decision to put the oldest offspring on meds for ADHD. I have really mixed feelings about it. I feel certain that he needs something to help him but I thought if we worked hard enough at it, we wouldn't need to take meds. I am feeling like it is a result of things I've done, or failed to do, as a parent. Logically, I know that isn't true but it sure feels like I failed him somehow, that he needs meds.
I hit the wall last week, when he had gotten in trouble at school and lost recess time for not only that day, but next day as well. I asked him what happened, and when the story came out, I sort of lost it. He was behaving totally inappropriately, and doing things that will not be tolerated, nor should they be. When I asked him why he made the choice to do things he knew he shouldn't do, he couldn't answer me. Now, in all fairness, he was probably at least a little scared by that point because the volume was seriously raised in our conversation. Maybe I overreacted and maybe I didn't, but the fact remains that he did some things that could end up in him getting in a lot of trouble, and I don't want to diminish that reality for him. I WANT him to be a little scared of getting in trouble, and scared of crossing the line.
So, I have a call in to the pediatrician, who will prescribe the meds. We'll go for a consult as soon as we can get in. On the one hand, I feel resigned and maybe a little relieved. On the other hand, I feel like I failed. But I'm not really conflicted about whether to start the meds. I feel now, that if I don't do it, I'd be withholding treatment for him. I've been feeling like maybe I'm just too lax with him, and haven't been as good at guiding him and setting up structure as I should have been. But maybe, even if I'd been a drill sergeant with him, it wouldn't have mattered. Parenting, good or bad, doesn't really change brain chemistry does it?
What I need to do it stop feeling sorry for myself and for him and get on with doing what needs to be done. It could be so much worse....I'm not taking him to dialysis or chemo twice a week, for crying out loud. The poor kid is already something of a square peg. I know too well what it feels like to be the oddball in a given group, and I so don't want my kids to have to feel like that. As a parent it is difficult to see your child struggle, and although you know that challenges and struggles build character and make us who we are, you also know it sucks to struggle and you want to make things easier for your kid.
He'll come out ok....he'll learn to cope and maybe he'll always need meds and maybe he won't. But he will be just fine, and he'll be stronger for the challenge. I've always viewed him a little sensitive and not as tough as his brothers. But he's always surprised me too, with how well he adapts and handles things. This is so totally my issue and not his. Come on, Mom, put on your big girl pants and deal.
20 October 2008
15 October 2008
Letting go
It's hard to let go.
After much hemming and hawing, and hoping for a different outcome, I have come to the decision (or maybe I have just seen that the decision is already made for me) that I have to let go of what I thought were two good friendships. I've written about this situation here before, but like a high school girl with her first heartbreak, I kept looking for crumbs of hope. I saw a returned email as evidence that the friendship didn't have to be over.
But, alas, I got my heart broken in high school, and in the end, I had to let go. Just as I have to now. I am really going to miss her. I already do. We haven't spoken in person since July, and I last got an email from her a month or so ago. In the email she was chatty, almost sounding like normal. I responded to that email and never heard back. I sent one a week or so ago, and nothing. The other good friendship that I seem to have lost, is with this girl's sister. The three of us were friends and I don't know if it is collateral damage but the sister isn't talking to me either.
I've been debating about whether to cut one last tie, a group that they invited me to join. I think I am going to bow out. There is nothing to be gained from forcing myself where I am not wanted, and making everyone else in the group uncomfortable too. I can only hope that the acquaintances I've made through them won't fall by the wayside too.
I've done what I can do repair the friendship but I have no control over her response, or lack thereof.
I"m just really sad about it.
After much hemming and hawing, and hoping for a different outcome, I have come to the decision (or maybe I have just seen that the decision is already made for me) that I have to let go of what I thought were two good friendships. I've written about this situation here before, but like a high school girl with her first heartbreak, I kept looking for crumbs of hope. I saw a returned email as evidence that the friendship didn't have to be over.
But, alas, I got my heart broken in high school, and in the end, I had to let go. Just as I have to now. I am really going to miss her. I already do. We haven't spoken in person since July, and I last got an email from her a month or so ago. In the email she was chatty, almost sounding like normal. I responded to that email and never heard back. I sent one a week or so ago, and nothing. The other good friendship that I seem to have lost, is with this girl's sister. The three of us were friends and I don't know if it is collateral damage but the sister isn't talking to me either.
I've been debating about whether to cut one last tie, a group that they invited me to join. I think I am going to bow out. There is nothing to be gained from forcing myself where I am not wanted, and making everyone else in the group uncomfortable too. I can only hope that the acquaintances I've made through them won't fall by the wayside too.
I've done what I can do repair the friendship but I have no control over her response, or lack thereof.
I"m just really sad about it.
09 October 2008
Found on a message board
I found this on a message board/forum today and thought it was fabulous. I'm glad to know I'm not the only one who feels this way. I am in a very good place now, but I have been totally broke, totally jobless and had to depend on the kindness of my family and friends (who eventually got sick of it, and rightfully so) to have a place to sleep at night. And this was in the early 90's!! You remember, the good years. You know what? I had to quit whining, get off my butt and get a job. And then another job. Yeah, it sucked. But whose job is it to take care of you? YOURS. Not the government's. Home ownership isn't a right. A college education isn't a right. I'm no Constitutional scholar, but I am pretty certain there relatively few things guaranteed therein, among them "life, liberty and the PURSUIT of happiness." You have to go get it. It isn't issued by the government.
My admiration to the author (whose screen name and email have been removed) :
"I do love my country--I love the principles it was founded upon and I love being a woman in these days here. I don't necessarily love all aspects of my government nor all the citizens of this country. I heard a local DJ say yesterday that there was a poll in the Wall Street Journal that said 59% of Americans said if they could, they'd throw out all members of Congress. Maybe I misunderstood where the poll was, as I didn't find it online. However, I have to say that I agree with the sentiment. Both parties sold us down the river on this bailout and as Alec Baldwin said, they should be ashamed.
As far as Americans go--they want a candidate of any party that will pat them on the head and say "those lenders were predatory, it's not your fault". The hell it's not! I don't disagree there was predatory lending, nor do I disagree that Congress forced banks years ago to lend to people that weren't credit-worthy so that everybody got to realize their dream of home ownership. That was stupid and yes, Congress is again accountable--but so are the individuals! I have never heard of a bank president forcing somebody to sign a loan document at gunpoint. If you earned $30k and got a loan for $400k, that's on you. If you're living paycheck to paycheck (at best) and charging restaurants and vacations, that's on you, too. I am sick of fiscally irresponsible individuals that want and want and want because they're "entitled to it". They are greedy consumers whose wants are greater than their income.
Many of America's citizens have turned into a bunch of lazy whiners and pussies with a mantra of "Gimme, Gimme, Gimme". There was a somewhat long emailed question in the debate last night from a woman that lived through the depression. Her final question was something like "What does the government think we should give up?" I have a great deal of admiration for the people of my grandmother's era that lived through the depression. They had the intestinal fortitude and the ambition to do what needed to be done in order to survive and have necessities. America's current couch potatoes couldn't hold a candle to those folks--they're too worried where their next Whopper is going to come from. We have candidates whom are being judged by these people on who will give them the best "gimmes". We have the modern day Robin Hood who wants to steal from the most productive and redistribute income to the least productive. Keep your "change" and your "fairness" and kiss my a$$! I will happily pay my share of taxes, obviously the expensive war included, but I don't feel like paying somebody else's share just because I can. And to Sen. McCain, who wants to buy bad homeowner mortgages, a special "salute" to you too, for not only rewarding fiscal stupidity, but laying it on the backs of the responsible taxpayers that didn't cause the problem.
Wake up, people! Make your OWN life. If your expenses are greater than your income, you either need to cut expenses or increase income (i.e., another job). Our parents and/or grandparents weren't too proud, nor did they feel it was beneath them to have 2nd or 3rd jobs for their necessities. They didn't go on vacations c/o Uncle Mastercard or Aunt Visa. In addition, maybe it's not the right time for you to have that new baby, puppy, or new car as they're not cheap. Honestly, what right do you have to suck off the tit of the most productive? You aren't entitled to health insurance or a living wage. The first is a commodity that you purchase through an employer or on your own and the second is something you earn. Hint: McDonald's is for teenagers to learn responsibility unless you are on a management track. If you love flipping burgers, that is wonderful--but don't expect to live on Park Avenue. That's the way it is. Have some pride, pull yourself up, and stop expecting a damned handout on the tab of other Americans. Signed, Sick and Tired"
My admiration to the author (whose screen name and email have been removed) :
"I do love my country--I love the principles it was founded upon and I love being a woman in these days here. I don't necessarily love all aspects of my government nor all the citizens of this country. I heard a local DJ say yesterday that there was a poll in the Wall Street Journal that said 59% of Americans said if they could, they'd throw out all members of Congress. Maybe I misunderstood where the poll was, as I didn't find it online. However, I have to say that I agree with the sentiment. Both parties sold us down the river on this bailout and as Alec Baldwin said, they should be ashamed.
As far as Americans go--they want a candidate of any party that will pat them on the head and say "those lenders were predatory, it's not your fault". The hell it's not! I don't disagree there was predatory lending, nor do I disagree that Congress forced banks years ago to lend to people that weren't credit-worthy so that everybody got to realize their dream of home ownership. That was stupid and yes, Congress is again accountable--but so are the individuals! I have never heard of a bank president forcing somebody to sign a loan document at gunpoint. If you earned $30k and got a loan for $400k, that's on you. If you're living paycheck to paycheck (at best) and charging restaurants and vacations, that's on you, too. I am sick of fiscally irresponsible individuals that want and want and want because they're "entitled to it". They are greedy consumers whose wants are greater than their income.
Many of America's citizens have turned into a bunch of lazy whiners and pussies with a mantra of "Gimme, Gimme, Gimme". There was a somewhat long emailed question in the debate last night from a woman that lived through the depression. Her final question was something like "What does the government think we should give up?" I have a great deal of admiration for the people of my grandmother's era that lived through the depression. They had the intestinal fortitude and the ambition to do what needed to be done in order to survive and have necessities. America's current couch potatoes couldn't hold a candle to those folks--they're too worried where their next Whopper is going to come from. We have candidates whom are being judged by these people on who will give them the best "gimmes". We have the modern day Robin Hood who wants to steal from the most productive and redistribute income to the least productive. Keep your "change" and your "fairness" and kiss my a$$! I will happily pay my share of taxes, obviously the expensive war included, but I don't feel like paying somebody else's share just because I can. And to Sen. McCain, who wants to buy bad homeowner mortgages, a special "salute" to you too, for not only rewarding fiscal stupidity, but laying it on the backs of the responsible taxpayers that didn't cause the problem.
Wake up, people! Make your OWN life. If your expenses are greater than your income, you either need to cut expenses or increase income (i.e., another job). Our parents and/or grandparents weren't too proud, nor did they feel it was beneath them to have 2nd or 3rd jobs for their necessities. They didn't go on vacations c/o Uncle Mastercard or Aunt Visa. In addition, maybe it's not the right time for you to have that new baby, puppy, or new car as they're not cheap. Honestly, what right do you have to suck off the tit of the most productive? You aren't entitled to health insurance or a living wage. The first is a commodity that you purchase through an employer or on your own and the second is something you earn. Hint: McDonald's is for teenagers to learn responsibility unless you are on a management track. If you love flipping burgers, that is wonderful--but don't expect to live on Park Avenue. That's the way it is. Have some pride, pull yourself up, and stop expecting a damned handout on the tab of other Americans. Signed, Sick and Tired"
Daddy's boy
My youngest son was leaving with my husband today, to go run a couple of errands. He's a total Daddy's boy. Total.
He gave me a hug and a kiss goodbye, and I asked him, "Hey little man, why don't you want to stay home with Mom while Daddy goes?" and he responded, "I love you Mommy, but I like Daddy better."
Little creep. I wonder why it is that your child can break your heart like no one else can?
I'll get over it, though. In fact, I already have. Because I have the whole house to myself, peace and quiet all afternoon :)
He gave me a hug and a kiss goodbye, and I asked him, "Hey little man, why don't you want to stay home with Mom while Daddy goes?" and he responded, "I love you Mommy, but I like Daddy better."
Little creep. I wonder why it is that your child can break your heart like no one else can?
I'll get over it, though. In fact, I already have. Because I have the whole house to myself, peace and quiet all afternoon :)
29 September 2008
In the company of heroes
Wow. There's just no other word for it.
I just got back last night from the coolest TDY (temporary duty) in the history of the world. I went to the final organized reunion of the WASP (Women Airforce Service Pilots). Their membership is down since many of them have passed on, or have simply gotten too old or too sick to attend reunions. The youngest WASP is 83 years old and receiving chemo treatments and is in a wheel chair. She was there this weekend, by the way.
What's that? You don't know who the WASP are? I'm so glad you asked. You know, women fly airplanes. They are perfectly capable and some women can do it a lot better than men. This is really not ground breaking news, but it used to be. In the early months of World War II, there was a massive shortage of military combat pilots. In time, the most well known American female pilot, Jackie Cochran, along with another accomplished female aviator, Nancy Harkness Love, was able to convince General Hap Arnold to train women to fly military aircraft. They argued that women were already licensed to fly, and if they got the same military training as men, they could fly military aircraft just as well. And since there was such a dearth of pilots, well, it just made sense. In 1942, their proposal was approved and in November of that same year the first class of WASP (Women Airforce Service Pilots) entered training in Houston, Texas. The training eventually moved to Avenger Field in Sweetwater, Texas. The last class of WASP graduated in December of 1944 and the WASP were disbanded 13 days after that last class graduated.
These women did everything but fly into combat. They towed targets for gunnery practice, they ferried aircraft, they flight-tested all the aircraft types in the inventory, instrument instructed, transported personnel and cargo, laid smoke, trained navigators and bombardiers, they flew drones, and the B26 and B29 to prove to the men that the aircraft were safe to fly.
Here's the thing, they were never considered military members. They were civilians. They didn't get any military benefits, or recognition, and their parents were denied a gold star in their windows. They weren't entitled to drape an American flag on their coffin. 38 of them died while serving their country and the government wouldn't even bring their bodies home. Their classmates took up collections to pay for bringing their bodies home and for their funerals and tombstones. Some still don't have headstones. That is just criminal. These women just wanted to fly, and they wanted to serve their country, and they didn't take "No" for an answer. General Arnold petitioned Congress to militarize the WASP but they denied his request. That's alright, though, the story gets better. Remember, these ladies wouldn't take "No" for an answer.
Finally in the late 1970's when the military aviation world was opened up to women again, lawmakers saw the contradiction in that situation....women were going to fly again, how could they deny veterans' status to those who paved the way? From 1944 until 1977, no woman set foot in a military cockpit. When the boys came home from war, they wanted their jobs back. To add insult to injury, when the WASP were granted military status, they were not invited to the signing ceremony. After that, it took seven years for their medals to arrive. They arrived in the mail. No recognition, no fanfare, no ceremony.
These women shared, and still share, a sisterhood that transcended time and distance. The bond of sisters (and brothers) in uniform is a strong one, and one you may not completely understand if you've never been in uniform yourself. It's even stronger for these ladies, for the challenges that they faced, and overcame, together. They get together every two years, and they come from all over the country. They hug and kiss, call each other sweetheart and they remember the details of their flights as if they happened last week instead of over 60 years ago. They love to talk with the female flyers of today and if you've ever listened to pilots talk, it's like they are in their own world.
I'm not a pilot. I don't really want to be one. I've tried learning to fly and I just do not have it in me. But I am a woman in uniform, and I used to wear the flight suit. I don't know what it was like for these ladies in the 1940's as they showed the guys, at every turn, that they had the right stuff. But I do know what it's like to be a girl in a flight suit, and to have the guys think you aren't as good as they are, on account of missing a Y chromosome. I met and had a chance to spend time with some of these awesome, awesome ladies and listen to some of their stories. It is truly inspiring to just sit at the same table as someone who did what they did, and the great thing about them is they don't want to be seen as heroes or pioneers. They were just some girls who loved to fly, wanted to serve their country, and wouldn't take "No" for an answer. Being with them made me want to go out and conquer the world, and it made think that I could.
And I have a couple of new friends, one a great gal who is nearly 90 years old and flew the B17 and the B24, among many others, in WWII. She invited me along with a good friend of mine, to visit her in the Pacific Northwest, anytime. My other new friend is this lady's loyal friend and companion. They said they'd take us for a walk around the lake by their house, and then we'd go to flight museum nearby. How cool is that?
Better late than never, they are finally getting some attention and some recognition. Some other women who won't take "No" for an answer are making sure that the legacy of the WASP does not just disappear. So many people still don't even know who they are or what they did. Hopefully that is changing, and will continue to change. There is a fabulous WASP archive at Texas Women University in Denton, Texas, and a traveling WASP exhibit will debut in November of this year, at the WIMSA (Women in Military Service for America) memorial in Washington DC.
Check out WASP on the Web and Wings Across America at www.wingsacrossamerica.org
I'm humbled and I'm awed by the things that they did, to open the door for me and millions of women like me, so that we too could wear the uniform, and fly in the service of our country. I was honored to stand up and salute them. My husband says I sound like a kid with a bad case of hero worship.
Yeah, I guess I do.
I just got back last night from the coolest TDY (temporary duty) in the history of the world. I went to the final organized reunion of the WASP (Women Airforce Service Pilots). Their membership is down since many of them have passed on, or have simply gotten too old or too sick to attend reunions. The youngest WASP is 83 years old and receiving chemo treatments and is in a wheel chair. She was there this weekend, by the way.
What's that? You don't know who the WASP are? I'm so glad you asked. You know, women fly airplanes. They are perfectly capable and some women can do it a lot better than men. This is really not ground breaking news, but it used to be. In the early months of World War II, there was a massive shortage of military combat pilots. In time, the most well known American female pilot, Jackie Cochran, along with another accomplished female aviator, Nancy Harkness Love, was able to convince General Hap Arnold to train women to fly military aircraft. They argued that women were already licensed to fly, and if they got the same military training as men, they could fly military aircraft just as well. And since there was such a dearth of pilots, well, it just made sense. In 1942, their proposal was approved and in November of that same year the first class of WASP (Women Airforce Service Pilots) entered training in Houston, Texas. The training eventually moved to Avenger Field in Sweetwater, Texas. The last class of WASP graduated in December of 1944 and the WASP were disbanded 13 days after that last class graduated.
These women did everything but fly into combat. They towed targets for gunnery practice, they ferried aircraft, they flight-tested all the aircraft types in the inventory, instrument instructed, transported personnel and cargo, laid smoke, trained navigators and bombardiers, they flew drones, and the B26 and B29 to prove to the men that the aircraft were safe to fly.
Here's the thing, they were never considered military members. They were civilians. They didn't get any military benefits, or recognition, and their parents were denied a gold star in their windows. They weren't entitled to drape an American flag on their coffin. 38 of them died while serving their country and the government wouldn't even bring their bodies home. Their classmates took up collections to pay for bringing their bodies home and for their funerals and tombstones. Some still don't have headstones. That is just criminal. These women just wanted to fly, and they wanted to serve their country, and they didn't take "No" for an answer. General Arnold petitioned Congress to militarize the WASP but they denied his request. That's alright, though, the story gets better. Remember, these ladies wouldn't take "No" for an answer.
Finally in the late 1970's when the military aviation world was opened up to women again, lawmakers saw the contradiction in that situation....women were going to fly again, how could they deny veterans' status to those who paved the way? From 1944 until 1977, no woman set foot in a military cockpit. When the boys came home from war, they wanted their jobs back. To add insult to injury, when the WASP were granted military status, they were not invited to the signing ceremony. After that, it took seven years for their medals to arrive. They arrived in the mail. No recognition, no fanfare, no ceremony.
These women shared, and still share, a sisterhood that transcended time and distance. The bond of sisters (and brothers) in uniform is a strong one, and one you may not completely understand if you've never been in uniform yourself. It's even stronger for these ladies, for the challenges that they faced, and overcame, together. They get together every two years, and they come from all over the country. They hug and kiss, call each other sweetheart and they remember the details of their flights as if they happened last week instead of over 60 years ago. They love to talk with the female flyers of today and if you've ever listened to pilots talk, it's like they are in their own world.
I'm not a pilot. I don't really want to be one. I've tried learning to fly and I just do not have it in me. But I am a woman in uniform, and I used to wear the flight suit. I don't know what it was like for these ladies in the 1940's as they showed the guys, at every turn, that they had the right stuff. But I do know what it's like to be a girl in a flight suit, and to have the guys think you aren't as good as they are, on account of missing a Y chromosome. I met and had a chance to spend time with some of these awesome, awesome ladies and listen to some of their stories. It is truly inspiring to just sit at the same table as someone who did what they did, and the great thing about them is they don't want to be seen as heroes or pioneers. They were just some girls who loved to fly, wanted to serve their country, and wouldn't take "No" for an answer. Being with them made me want to go out and conquer the world, and it made think that I could.
And I have a couple of new friends, one a great gal who is nearly 90 years old and flew the B17 and the B24, among many others, in WWII. She invited me along with a good friend of mine, to visit her in the Pacific Northwest, anytime. My other new friend is this lady's loyal friend and companion. They said they'd take us for a walk around the lake by their house, and then we'd go to flight museum nearby. How cool is that?
Better late than never, they are finally getting some attention and some recognition. Some other women who won't take "No" for an answer are making sure that the legacy of the WASP does not just disappear. So many people still don't even know who they are or what they did. Hopefully that is changing, and will continue to change. There is a fabulous WASP archive at Texas Women University in Denton, Texas, and a traveling WASP exhibit will debut in November of this year, at the WIMSA (Women in Military Service for America) memorial in Washington DC.
Check out WASP on the Web and Wings Across America at www.wingsacrossamerica.org
I'm humbled and I'm awed by the things that they did, to open the door for me and millions of women like me, so that we too could wear the uniform, and fly in the service of our country. I was honored to stand up and salute them. My husband says I sound like a kid with a bad case of hero worship.
Yeah, I guess I do.
23 September 2008
And another thing....
...go read All Da King's Men. There is a link to this blog on the left side of the screen. Informative, yet entertaining too.
I did it!
I ran my first half marathon. It's a huge deal for me, because I am the queen of starting things and not finishing. I told anyone and everyone who would listen, that I had signed up for the race and I was running a half marathon. That way, I'd HAVE to do it, or else I'd have to explain to umpteen people why I wussed out.
I got pretty nervous in the week leading up to it, and began thinking of lame excuses. Then I went for a 7.5 mile run, and honestly it wasn't that hard, and I thought, "Hey I can do this. Don't be such a skirt, put on your big girl running shorts and do it." So I did :)
I found a few people I knew at the start line and I ran the first three miles or so with a guy who works in the chaplain's office across the hall from me. He was a good running partner, we just chit chatted about this and that and before I knew it we were already at the first water station. But he was running the 10K and that route split from the half marathon route at about mile 3, so we high fived and wished each other well. I didn't need to walk until about mile 8. I took a short walking break, only a couple of minutes and got back into my pace.
I stopped to use the bathroom more than I should have needed to but with my stomach issues I didn't want to take chances. I drank water and gatorade at nearly every station, and they had some fruit just past my halfway point. Plus I had those jelly beans that are really candy but masquerade as energy food.
It got really hard at mile 10. I struggled for the last three miles and my legs felt like they weighed about a hundred pound each. I held my tension in my shoulders and I could feel like getting really, really heavy. But then with less than a quarter mile to go, I saw Matt and the kids and the boys were so cute....they had those silly cowbells that the race sponsors gave out and they were ringing those things and cheering for all they were worth. That was what I needed to haul my tired ass across the finish line, and down the chute to have a colonel who looked way too young to be a full bird colonel put a medal around my neck and congratulate me. I gave the medal to Lucas and he said he wanted to run with me next year. Seth....not so much.
But, I set a goal. I worked toward it (although, in the spirit of full disclosure, not nearly as hard as I should have) and I did it. It felt so good, once I got past the ache in my legs. Seriously from the top of my hip, all the way down to my ankle, the backs of my legs felt like rubber bands that were stretched too far. It hurt. Bad. But after a massage, a long hot bath, and a good night's sleep, I felt a lot better. I ran on Saturday, today is Tuesday and I still feel it just the tiniest bit in my calves.
I don't think I am aspiring to 26.2. Not yet at least. Maybe after I have a couple more halves under my belt.
OK, time to go and get my nails done. I'm going on the coolest TDY ever on Thursday, and it will go much better if I am within regs for not only my uniform but hair and nails and silly things like that.
I got pretty nervous in the week leading up to it, and began thinking of lame excuses. Then I went for a 7.5 mile run, and honestly it wasn't that hard, and I thought, "Hey I can do this. Don't be such a skirt, put on your big girl running shorts and do it." So I did :)
I found a few people I knew at the start line and I ran the first three miles or so with a guy who works in the chaplain's office across the hall from me. He was a good running partner, we just chit chatted about this and that and before I knew it we were already at the first water station. But he was running the 10K and that route split from the half marathon route at about mile 3, so we high fived and wished each other well. I didn't need to walk until about mile 8. I took a short walking break, only a couple of minutes and got back into my pace.
I stopped to use the bathroom more than I should have needed to but with my stomach issues I didn't want to take chances. I drank water and gatorade at nearly every station, and they had some fruit just past my halfway point. Plus I had those jelly beans that are really candy but masquerade as energy food.
It got really hard at mile 10. I struggled for the last three miles and my legs felt like they weighed about a hundred pound each. I held my tension in my shoulders and I could feel like getting really, really heavy. But then with less than a quarter mile to go, I saw Matt and the kids and the boys were so cute....they had those silly cowbells that the race sponsors gave out and they were ringing those things and cheering for all they were worth. That was what I needed to haul my tired ass across the finish line, and down the chute to have a colonel who looked way too young to be a full bird colonel put a medal around my neck and congratulate me. I gave the medal to Lucas and he said he wanted to run with me next year. Seth....not so much.
But, I set a goal. I worked toward it (although, in the spirit of full disclosure, not nearly as hard as I should have) and I did it. It felt so good, once I got past the ache in my legs. Seriously from the top of my hip, all the way down to my ankle, the backs of my legs felt like rubber bands that were stretched too far. It hurt. Bad. But after a massage, a long hot bath, and a good night's sleep, I felt a lot better. I ran on Saturday, today is Tuesday and I still feel it just the tiniest bit in my calves.
I don't think I am aspiring to 26.2. Not yet at least. Maybe after I have a couple more halves under my belt.
OK, time to go and get my nails done. I'm going on the coolest TDY ever on Thursday, and it will go much better if I am within regs for not only my uniform but hair and nails and silly things like that.
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