Changes

I logged on to see that this will only be my second post in August, and it's already the 19th. If I take a blogger hiatus, it usually means I am disenchanted with running or not running at all. Neither is the case.

This time the reason is that there have been some changes occurring in our household which have disrupted our routines, our family dynamic and my thinking to some extent. The blessing is that they are wonderful changes, but all change brings about a level of stress.

The first major change is that I quit my job - kinda. I actually scaled my hours way back to one morning a week and special projects. Chuck and I decided that not that the twins have entered high school, and these next four years being so vital to them, that I really needed to keep my eye on the ball. Their entering high school has really done a number on me. I feel old, which is something I don't really care about for myself (I am the one planning her own surprise 40th birthday party and counting down the months (14.5)). I feel like they feel like I can't relate to them. I keep hearing "You don't understand!" Part of me is screaming, "But I do, I do! I was in high school, like, 5 years ago!!" (even though my 20th reunion was last month) but the other part of me is saying, "You are so right - you live in such a different world!" It's such a strange sensation - I could not relate to them as middle schoolers, but I understand high school. I remember high school. High school is important on so many different levels. I want them to have a great experience. I want them to survive it. I want them to not make any choices that will haunt them for the rest of their lives. As I say to them, I don't care if you grow up to dig ditches, but I want it because you chose to dig ditches, not because you have to dig ditches. I don't want to live vicariously through them; high school was fun for me but not the best part of my life, but at the same time I want to be involved.

Meanwhile, I've decided to go back to school, myself. That might sound counterproductive to my purpose in "quitting" my job, but in fact I think it will enhance the "we're all in this together" mentality of my four students PLUS myself. My intention is to become an athletic trainer (ATC). I will be getting my AA from a local community college and God willing, entering the ATC program at USF. This is one of Jonathan's two choices for school, so the family joke is who will graduate first? I'm likely starting from scratch (awaiting transcripts from my five minutes at UNC-C) so I'm going to put my money on him. :)

So the past two and a half weeks have been about finishing out my work schedule, running kids around, gathering school supplies, and yes, running. The Daily Mile gadget keeps my blog up to date, and my weekday runs have been rather nondescript - speedwork Tuesdays, or hills Friday, boot camp runs to fill in some mileage.

Sundays have been something else, though. On the 8th, Carin and I were scheduled for 18 miles, having done 16 the week before. We had a hint that we shouldn't head out by the fact that my headlamp - which finding had made me a little late - was burned out. We start our long runs at 5:15 on a dark and unlit trail alongside a preserve, so this was not good. A tiny sliver of moon reflected off of deep puddles that we'd see almost too late to dodge. And then we began to see some lightning. Dark billowing ominous clouds gathered all around us and the lightning got so bad that the brightness of it was blinding. About 3 miles in I could smell the positive ions in the air and the stiff humidity broke and the winds picked up. We were starting to get nervous - we were 2 miles away from where we'd find shelter and friends, and the storms were moving in at an unbelievable speed. Just in time, Jodi and Jenny called my ever-present cell and said they were scared for us, and coming to find us. We scrambled into the car of our rescuers and debated what to do, finally calling it quits.

I was restless all morning with only 1/4 of my long run done, so Chuck told me to change back into my running clothes and he accompanied me by bike on a drizzly, hot, tedious 9-miler. 13.5, I decided, was better than 4.5 --- or none.

That was my lead-in for the 20-miler, the run I dread the most. I began to dread the run as soon as my Tuesday speedwork was done, and hated any reference to the upcoming weekend. Leslie (Ma'am) took me up on my invitation to join us Sunday morning and I started to feel relieved. This was Carin's first 20-miler and I knew Ma'am's perpetual good cheer and encouragement would be the perfect anecdote to my foul attitude about the whole thing.

At mile 3.5, I had rearranged my brain a bit. I jokingly said, "HEY! I don't have a 20-miler to run today - I think I'll do 16 and a half!" Ma'am bit and said, "Slacker!" and from that point on, I was f.i.n.e. We met Jenny and Jamie and Cherise about mile 5, ran out five with them and back, saw some friends along the trail, then ran the five back to the car. Easy peasy - just had to endure about 20 minutes of blazing sun but it was not the epic event I had been dreading.

Dare I say it?

It was fun.

It helped tremendously that Chuck had brought his bike and visited us often with ice cold water and icy towels and Gus. It helped that there were people everywhere - people we liked and were happy to see, and people who scared us like the three teens with maniacal laughs, an unleashed dog and an AX!, but I think that it helped most that I leapfrogged my discontent and just did it.

One of the best parts of a 20-miler is the cut-back week that follows it. I've planned my weekend like a sailor on shore leave. Tomorrow we run the hills and Sunday sleep waaaay in and run a mere 7 miles.

Life is good.