Category: Activities

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Activities Cancer Cole Health Running Ryan

First Half Marathon: 4 Years in the Making- Part 2

Part 2 of my first half marathon attempt, at the Denver Rock & Roll Half and Full Marathon

(Part 1 can be found here)

Four days before the race, I had an appointment with my orthopedic surgeon and physical therapist for my elbow.  The surgeon released me, saying I was two months ahead of recovery schedule and he gave me his “blessing” to run, saying there would be no consequences to my elbow. The physical therapist said I was ahead of schedule as well, and with another month, she was confident we could work out the last of the resistance in my elbow to it being fully extended.

I was so excited- it felt like a giant weight had been lifted, and I now had the confirmation I was going to be OK- I wasn’t going to be limited to one arm, in pain, for the rest of my life. That was it- there was no reason medically I could not run. The next day, Thursday, I did a light workout, just to get the legs moving, and I felt a shin splint pain, when I was done. It was in the same place it had been over the summer.  I rolled it out on the foam roller, and tried not to freak out.  I told myself it still had two full days of rest, and it would be fine.  I took it easy with rest until Sunday- race day. I could barely sleep the night before, but managed to get a few hours in, until my alarm woke me up at 4:30AM.  Today was the day I had been working for, for four years- I would know in a few hours, if I could do this!

I arrived at the race at 6:15AM- an hour before race time.  I had to park a mile away and walked in.  It was about 45 degrees out- much warmer than I had thought it would be.  I had brought my warmer running jacket, because it had lots of pockets to hold all my race stuff, but realized it would be way to warm to wear.  So I was mentally trying to figure out if my running shirt and running capris would hold my 2 GU fuel packets, a packet of sport jelly beans, tissues, and lip balm.  I figured I would just have to make them fit in my two pockets.  The walk was a good warm up and I was happy I had no shin pain whatsoever.

The race site was already buzzing and energetic.  The sun was coming up.  I saw lots of people together, and a lot of solo runners as well- young and old- it was nice to see such a variety of runners. I drank a little water, ate a small bagel, and figured out where the bag check was. I warmed up and stretched for about half an hour. I took one of the GU energy packs.  I had to walk back to the starting corrals, and my friend texted me- he was in a different starting corral than I, but we wished each other well.  I took off the last of my warm clothes, checked my bag, and headed to my starting corral.

By now the sun was up, and the first wave of runners were off.  I was in starting group 9, and I think there were are 16 or 17  starting waves. It was so crowded, I couldn’t make it into the corral, with the crowd on the street, so I just crawled through an opening, and waited. I actually had no nerves- no butterflies.  I was concentrating on not starting too fast.  Much easier said than done.  I started getting some adrenaline as our group started walking towards the starting line.  I was here, really here.  It hit me. I was really, really, about to start off on my 13.1 mile dream.  This wasn’t a 5K, or a fast 3K.  13 miles- it was going to be long- it would probably be painful at some point, but I got tears in my eyes.  I was here for ME.  This was 100% me- no one else. If I could do this- I could do anything.

“5-4-3-2-1!”  I hit the start on my Garmin and ran over the starting line.  My only thought was not to go too fast.  Meanwhile, hundreds of people were blowing by me.  I felt a little wimpy when the 50 and 60-year old runners were passing me, but it quickly passed. I knew what I was doing. I wasn’t running for anyone else- just for me.  I was going to run my race- all 13.1 miles, exactly as I had planned.

I settled into a nice pace for the first mile, despite hundreds of people passing me.  I smiled and was thankful this wasn’t my first rodeo. I knew some of the people were running way too fast. It made me keep looking at my Garmin though, and I was nervous. I was running a consistent 11:30 pace.  That was too fast. I had to slow down.  In training I was running 12 and 13 minute miles.  I wanted to run at least 12 minute miles for several of the first miles.

Miles 1 and 2: The first two miles were easy for me.  I was trying to get on a 12 minute pace but couldn’t.  It felt too slow, and not how I wanted to run this day.  I was feeling very strong, not tired at all.  All the running I have done- whether it was a half mile run, or a 10 mile one, trained me for this.  I knew I could run consistently 11 something miles, and while I wanted to run smart, I certainly didn’t want to feel like I held back.  This was my race- my time- to run exactly how I wanted to.  I made the mental switch at about 2.5 miles. I was going to run by how I felt. I could always slow way down to 12 or 13 minute miles if I needed to.  I stopped looking at my Garmin, and just tuned into my breathing, and pacing.

Mile 3: I hit the 5K mark, 3.10 miles, at 35 minutes. It felt perfect.  I had 10 miles to go, and I wasn’t tired at all.  I noticed I started passing people that had blown by me in the first few miles.

Miles 4 and 5: I just ran. There were some hills, no big deal.  My treadmill hills had been longer than these. The crowds cheering on the streets were awesome. I saw lots of signs, smiling and waving people. One man had a little baby strapped to his chest, holding a sign that said, “Becky, you are my hero.” It was so sweet- it just made me smile.

I slowed down a lot going through the water stations- I didn’t want to spill water on me, and I figured slowing down that extra little bit during the stations, might help me in the end. I actually had to use the restroom quick, but every time I passed one, there were such long lines. I didn’t want to stop, get out of sync, so I just pushed it out of my mind, and kept running.

Mile 6: I hit the 10K mark, 6.2 miles, at 1:10, and I had seen I just had a 10:58 mile, and I was feeling fine. I actually teared up at the 10K mark, because this was the longest distance in a race I had ever ran.  Lots of 5K’s,a 5 mile race, a 9K, but I have actually never ran a 10K race distance before.  I was starting to feel a little tired half way into this mile. I had planned to refuel with a GU energy, and did so at the half way mark. I started to feel a little pain in my shin, but I told myself to push past it- it was temporary, and I didn’t notice it anymore for the entire race.

Mile 7: I was starting to get tired, but I think at the end of it some of the energy pack kicked in. I had taken some of the sport jelly beans, as well. I had been taking water and Gatorade at the stations, so I figured I was doing all I could to make sure my body had enough energy and was hydrated. But, I was really having to pee- the lines were just still too long, and I was running so well, I didn’t want to stop- even for 5 minutes, and risk not being able to get back in sync.

Mile 8: I felt good. This was what I had run just 6 days earlier and still felt like I had a lot more I could do.  It was only 5 more miles. I was loving this run- I didn’t want to think too much ahead, but I was starting to think this was shaping up to be one of the most enjoyable runs I have ever had.

Mile 9: My “slow” start started to pay off.  I was passing a lot of people. I was still running to how I was feeling, but felt like I was slowing down.  Plus it was about a half mile stretch of consistently uphill. I looked at my Garmin and it didn’t look like it was running correctly.  I pushed stop and start on it, quickly, and then realized it was running.  But I had gotten the lap time off. But I was running 11/12 mile pace.  At the end of mile 9, I just felt my body take over.  I felt like I had just started running, and ran faster. There was no pain- my elbow didn’t even hurt. I was starting to run more assertively.  Everything was in sync.

Mile 10: I arrived at mile 10 at 1:56.  It hit me I only had a 5K left to do- 3.10 miles, and I knew I could run that!  I started to tear up, but made myself stop. I was running the strongest I had yet, and I didn’t want tears to mess it up.  I realized no matter what- I was going to finish, and I was on pace to finish far faster than I had ever let myself think I could.  I was running in the high 10 low 11 minute miles, and it was getting towards the end.  I reminded myself not to push it too much.  I wanted to finish strong.

Mile 11: Someone threw a very long (or so it seemed) hill in there. It was tough.  It slowed me down.  But, I noticed I was the person doing the passing.  Not one person passed me uphill.  I wasn’t competing against anyone else, but it made me feel strong, and I realized I AM strong.  I finished the hill a little tired, but not beaten or worn out, and felt 100% in control- this was my race, I was having the perfect run, and it wasn’t over yet.

Mile 12: I started running faster, and I was smiling.  This is what I had worked 4 years for.  I heard people cheering. I heard people say, “look at her running so fast, how is she doing that?” I think they were talking about me, because everyone I was running by was pretty much walking, or running very slowly. I was picking up the pace! I was confident I had run smart.  I may not have had months to train, but I know how I run, and in this mile, I was running with my heart and my spirit.  I had this, and I wasn’t going to be walking to the finish line.  Hell no! I was going to dig deep and bring everything I had to the last mile.

Mile 13: I told myself to just go, and enjoy- this was it! The last mile, was the single most, empowering, exciting and great thing I have ever done just for myself!  All my obstacles, all my health issues, all my difficulties in life, all my fears, all my doubts- for this small sliver of time, had disappeared.  I was this close to doing the impossible for me. From lying in a hospital bed with my neck sliced open with an organ gone from, having cancer in my cells, to taking radioactive drugs to kill cancer, to having parts of my body burned off to prevent cancer, from losing my mom, to being cancer free to having been in a cast on my arm just weeks before, from losing one of the most important relationships to me weeks before, to knowing I’m not perfect, but I don’t give up. When most people would quit- I don’t. I am strong when I am meant to be weak.

For this last mile, I had extra to give, and I knew it would be the fastest I ran, in the final mile of a half marathon. It all came together- as much as my mind, body, and spirit, had been distraught in the months before, they were strong all working together, as one. All the interval training I have ever done, all the sprints, all the running came to the surface, and I had no more thoughts. I just ran. I was free.  I held nothing back.  I ran that last mile (it helped it was downhill!) like I was running for the gold in the Olympics, because for me it was- it was my gold medal to my dream.

Mile 13.1: I saw the finish line. I saw myself passing person after person, I heard the crowd just cheering, and I knew I had done it.  I crossed the finish line, and in that moment my dream for “someday” wasn’t a dream anymore. It was reality.  It was today, in that moment.  Nothing held back, no regrets. I had just run the race of my life. I had ran 100% from my heart, and I could never ask for anything more. I got my dream- I got my moment of something wonderful!

I remembered to hit stop on my Garmin, and saw I had just run the last third of the mile at an 8:51 pace.  My final time was 2:29.  I had been hoping for 2:45, and the time was just the icing on the cake.  My final mile had been my fastest: 10:21. My Garmin said I ran 13.31 miles, but official race says 13.10, but our times were the same.

I got wrapped in a heat blanket, drank some chocolate milk, given a smoothie, and just let it soak in.  More thoughts and feelings hit me- I cried a little.  This- the race- this is what it is all about. Falling down and getting back up, over, and over, and over, no matter how many times.  If you want to finish, you have to start.  Giving your best, after life hands you its worst.  I have failed at many things in life, I have gotten very sick in life, I have made huge mistakes in life, I have regrets, I wish I could have done many things differently, but all these things- just like all the miles added up to get me to the finish line, these mistakes, imperfections, these less than ideal situations in life, make me who I am.  Without these, I doubt I ever would have run one mile, let alone 13.1.

Life takes its toll, but running teaches me, despite my imperfections, my mind, body, and spirit do work together.  It teaches me my failures and fears will NEVER be stronger than my determination and spirit. And in that last mile it taught me, if you are lucky, follow your dreams, sometimes your fears and failures will intersect with your dreams and successes and make it all worthwhile- more than you can possibly imagine!

Thank you to all my friends, family, and everyone who has supported, and believed in me and my running over the years. I can’t possibly thank everyone individually, but I need to mention some specific people, who if not for them, I would never have been able to achieve my health and my running dreams.

To my sons, Ryan and Cole: Thank You!!  You guys are my biggest fans, and my biggest helpers.  I love you both with all my heart.  If you were not so awesome and flexible to work Mom’s running in with your play schedules, I would have never had enough time to devote to running. You guys helped Mom run her half marathon!!

To Mara, Jeff, Vanessa, Kat, and my dad:  My family, I know you are always there when I need you, and thank you for always believing in me.

To Amy: I could tell you I was running to the moon, and you’d support me.  From cancer help, to running encouragement- thank you for being a true friend, in every sense of the word.  To Aaron: Thank you for talking me into it.  To Sarah: Thank you for pushing me into it, and To Debra: Thank you for helping me when I had cancer, and for your always positive attitude!

To all the cancer patients who write me every day:  I know how lonely, discouraging, and frightening cancer is.  Don’t give up, and continue to fight. When you are able, pursue your dreams. It isn’t easy, but it is worth it.  Envision your dreams on your hard days.  Take it one day at a time, and you will get there.  Focus on what you do have- not what this disease takes- and draw your strength from your loved ones and friends who are fighting along with you.

To John:  Thank you for providing your support to me, and to my dream. You’ve been there from the beginning, starting with the first run I ever took. Your advice over the years has helped me become the best runner I can, and your encouragement has assisted me in following my dream- more than you know.

Mile Splits

1-11:24  2-11:10  3-11:38  4-11:03  5-11:31  6-10:58  7-11:30  8-11:41  9-12:18  10-11:19  11-10:56  12-11:07  13- 10:21  .31-2:45

Finishing Time: 2:29

Average Pace: 11:15

marathon

13.1 Miles! I’m an official half marathoner, with my medal! 10/20/13

Categories
Activities Cancer Mothering Running

First Half Marathon: 4 Years in the Making- Part 1

On Sunday October 20, 2013 in Denver, I attempted a dream I have had for four years- to run a half marathon.  No one ever (well hardly ever anyone),  just gets up one day, shows up at the start, and decides to run a half marathon without a story.  This is mine.

I started running 4 years ago, in September 2009- just weeks after I finished my thyroid cancer treatments. The surgery I had to have, the recovery, the radioactive iodine, and the fact I had no thyroid hormone for 3 months, left me feeling like an invalid, and there were many days I could not get out of bed.  I remember one morning, after having moved in with my dad and step-mom, temporarily because I was unable to care for myself and my young boys round the clock, my dad and step-mom were at work.  I was sitting on the porch swing, watching the boys play in the yard.  I saw it was 10AM, and knew I had better start making them lunch.  I had to stop midway, walking up their 6 stairs to the kitchen, and it took me 2.5 HOURS to walk about 10 steps from the porch, up the stairs, to the kitchen, and make 2 sandwiches.

When all my treatment and recovery were finished, and I finally started to get the Synthroid (synthetic thyroid hormone) that my body had been deprived of for 3 months, despite the doctors telling me I may never feel “normal” again, I started to feel instantly better.  I was grateful I didn’t feel like I was 120-years old anymore, I was starting to get energy back.  I had always wanted to run in a race, and the 5K Race for the Cure was in a few weeks.  I decided to try running in this, and even if I couldn’t run the entire way, I knew I could walk it, but it would be a victory, just to be able to be there, and move.  Something I had taken for granted until I had cancer.

Most my readers know the story- I was able to finish the 5K race, running, and I was hooked.  I have kept running since then- at times more intensely and seriously.  In July 2010 I entered my first competitive race, for a 3K, and came in second for my age group.  The next year at the same Race for the Cure, I took 12 minutes off  my 5K time from just a year ago- from 36 min. to 24 minutes- those were definitely highlights and goals of my running, but it was not my dream.

Ever since those first steps I took running, I thought of those who couldn’t run, & appreciated how lucky I was.  I dreamed- “someday” if I trained hard enough, worked hard enough, ran fast enough, was healthy enough- “someday” I would try to run a half marathon. In my mind, that would be the ultimate achievement from where I had started to where I would end up.  My physical condition when I started running- to be able to even sign up for a half marathon- might as well have been climbing Mount Everest.  It was really a dream I never thought I would be able to accomplish, but could hope for, if all the other conditions in my life were ideal.

In those 4 years, I’ve signed up for a few half marathons, but always had circumstances arise, where I was not able to train properly for them.  One half marathon was weeks after my mom passed away, and I was just not in an emotional place to be able to do it.  I’ve gotten busy- kids, work, school, relationship, family, friends, my health and in 2011 I had yet another cancer scare.  Over the years, I have never stopped running, but somewhere along the way, I let my dream slip to the background.  Perhaps because deep down, I never really believed I could do it.  Why do something and fail?  The half marathon hasn’t been my focus in a long time, but it was always in the back of my mind- a little part of me never let it completely slip away.

In May, a friend said he was going to try to run his first marathon in October, and encouraged me to give it a shot as well. I decided it was time to make this my goal again, and get serious about it. I signed up, with new found enthusiasm.  Weeks later, I developed a nasty side shin splint that left me unable to run.  By the beginning of August, despite having rested and not having ran for weeks, it was still there.  It was time to decide- I had to train if I was going to run this, but I decided to shelf my dream yet again- rather than risk developing a more serious injury by stressing my shins.

Just days after this, in the beginning of August, I had a bad bicycle crash, and broke and dislocated my elbow. I had to have surgery, and was unable to bend my elbow, or use my arm for weeks.  It was devastating to me. It left me very immobile and in a lot of ways it left me unable to perform very basic functions- from personal grooming to taking basic care of my kids, like I want to.  It was a very painful injury. I’ve never had chronic pain, but I did for weeks with this injury.   I felt helpless, alone, and very much like I did when I was sick with cancer.  When you live by yourself, you don’t realize all the things- until you can’t- you must do for yourself and your children. When suddenly, I could not do these things, it left me feeling very vulnerable, and weak.  When I saw my children step up and help me with things I should have been doing for them as their parent, it made me feel like I could not even be their mother properly. It was everything I could do, to just go to work for the day.  I had nothing left when I got home. Combined with the chronic pain, unable to live my life like I wanted, and unable to exercise or move without constant pain, – this was very demoralizing and depressing. It really was my worse fears realized.  My independence, my ability to care for my children, and my mobility were gone and I was scared.  I felt like I was living in a blanket of heavy fog, only seeing the fog- in front of me.  I could not have known how much this was affecting me at the time, but all of these things contributed to very difficult months, on every level- physically, emotionally, and mentally.

As I started physical therapy, I started to work really hard on the exercises the physical therapists were giving me. They assured me if I did these every day, my elbow would start to get better.  They were right, and within a week, finally some of the pain subsided, and I started to feel more optimistic I would be able to use my arm again. I felt like I was finally coming out of the fog a bit.  I started going to my gym and just riding the stationary bike for 3-5 miles. I could protect my elbow, and not have a lot of pain while doing this.  When the physical therapist told me to start working on holding my arm down, I figured running would be good.  I started running a half a mile, three quarters of a mile, a mile, etc. My arm felt good when I ran, and I felt my spirits rising as well when I ran.  Soon I was up to running 5 miles a week.

A lot of these runs were at night on a treadmill, but I was happy I could at least run again.  As I ran those mindless miles on the treadmill, the half marathon I had signed up for, which was weeks away now, kept creeping back in my mind. Could I do it? The doubts crept in.  Did I dare try? What happened if I tried and failed? No way was I even near the level of being able to run a half marathon, and I still had a broken elbow I was recovering from…was I crazy?

But my legs felt strong from the stationary bike riding, the running I had been able to do, and in the 2 months my elbow had been broken, my shin splint was gone, (there always is a silver lining). One night as these doubts were running through my mind, I decided to turn them off.  I turned the incline up higher on the treadmill, to simulate hills instead.  If I was considering this, I had better train 10 times harder than the race course, in the days I had left.

Ten days before the marathon, I told a client of mine from work, who is also very exercise oriented, I was thinking about actually running the half marathon.  She didn’t hesitate- she didn’t tell me all the reasons why I couldn’t or shouldn’t do this- she just told me I could do it.  And hearing that she thought I could- gave me the push I needed.  When I started telling friends and family I was going to run- no one told me I couldn’t or shouldn’t- and I realized all the resistance and fears were mine, and mine alone.  I saw and experienced people believing in me, and that in turn helped me believe in myself.

I worked out on the treadmill at night when the boys were with their dad, my half marathon 10-day training plan.  I ran the treadmill at a 3 to 4% incline at 12-13 minute miles.  I knew this was harder than the course, but I had to train hard.  I knew I had to pace myself during the race, or I would never be able to go 13 miles.  Unfortunately, I didn’t have enough time left before the race to even try to run 13 miles, without risking the strength and endurance I had built up. But one thing I have learned from running is you are always stronger than you think you are. You can always do more, if you let your mind believe it.

Six days before the race, I put my training to the test and ran 8 miles.  I ran the first half very slowly and conservatively, and finished the second half, running up hills, at a faster pace.  I felt like I could have kept running, and felt very optimistic, I had another 5 miles in me for race day.  It didn’t matter how fast I went- only that I finished.  I felt ready.  I remembered how far I had come from those days as a cancer patient- unable to get out of bed.  I remembered everyone who couldn’t run, and was grateful that I could. I wasn’t afraid anymore. Even though I wasn’t the healthiest I could be. Even though I didn’t have the ideal training. Even though I wouldn’t be able to run as fast as I had wanted.  Even though the previous month had been devastating emotionally.  But I wasn’t going to use these excuses to put my dream on hold again.

Life life, running is seldom perfect. If you never take that first step forward, nothing will ever happen.  Finish or not- I was going to give this everything I had, and if I didn’t finish, at least I tried. Even I couldn’t run the entire 13 miles, or cross the finish line, I would have at the very least, given my dream a chance.

(I want to write this in detail, so will be breaking the post up.  Part 2 coming next!)

Categories
Activities Cole Mothering Parenting Ryan

Angry Birds vs. Imagination

Angry Birds- it’s the latest (addictive craze).  I admit it- I love Angry Birds. When I finished the regular levels, I moved on to Angry Birds Seasons, and Angry Birds Rio.

At times, Ryan and Cole would see me playing and ask what I was doing.  I showed them the game, and it and wasn’t too long after they were asking me if they could play Angry Birds.  As a kid, the first real video game I played was Atari Pong.  My brother and I would bounce that dot between the rectangles what seemed like for hours, and we had so much fun.  Thinking back on it, I doubt kids today would even spend 10 minutes on Pong.  Our society moves too fast now- there’s lights, colors, graphics, and noises everywhere- video games included.  Simple video games like Pong, had their time, and it’s over.

That being said, I think Angry Birds can teach kids a little bit about physics and resolve. The boys didn’t want to stop until they had gotten all the pigs, and had gotten three stars on every level. They high fived and cheered when one of them achieved this, and they reminded me of my brother and I. Except they were crouched over a phone screen, instead of laying on the living room floor, looking at a TV set.  Nevertheless, it was fun seeing them play a “video” game together.

It’s been several weeks since they have played Angry Birds.  We are so busy at night with homework, and when homework is done, the boys have wanted to spend the last few precious minutes of daylight at the park, riding their bike, scooter, and playing with their friends.

A few days ago, we were hanging out on Sunday morning, and Cole asked me (make that begged) me if he could play Angry Birds.  “Please Mommy, please- can I play Angry Birds?”  I let Cole play, and within a few minutes Ryan had joined him, and they were working on the levels.  I started doing some chores and before I knew it, 30 minutes had passed.  I told the boys they had been playing the game long enough, and it was time to stop.  They objected and asked if they could keep playing. I told them no, and they weren’t happy. They didn’t exactly throw a fit, but they went in their room and shut the door.

I assumed they were moping, and discussing what a mean mom they had.  A few minutes later I heard a thump.  Then another one, laughing, and a “Ryan, I know what will make this even better-dynamite!”  Whenever you hear a phrase like that as a mother of boys, you go a running to check.  It’s second nature by now. It’s like the mother drill: No questions asked, you just go- the sooner the better.

In their room, I assessed the situation.  I saw Cole setting up their blocks around stuffed animals.  Ryan was stringing a rubber band across his dresser knobs, about 3 feet away from the animals and blocks, and he was holding a pencil.  I have seen a lot of funny, odd, weird, etc., things my boys have done, but I had no idea what they were up to.

“Look Mom, since you won’t let us play Angry Birds anymore, we made our own real life Angry Birds.”  Ryan told me, as he lined up his pencil, through the rubber band.  “This is the slingshot.”

“These are blocks and pigs, but this game is really called Angry Stuffed Animals.” Cole informed me.

Thump! Ryan let the pencil go, it hit the top of his bed frame, which was the backdrop.  It landed on the block, and it grazed an “angry” pink dinosaur.

The boys squealed in delight.  They laughed and did it again. And again.  They knocked down the blocks, and angry stuffed animals- monkeys, dinosaurs, and giraffes.  They arranged the blocks, Angry Stuffed Animals in various ways, and in different patterns and they would work on shooting the pencil from their “slingshot” until they knocked down all the animals and blocks. When they succeeded they said they had earned three stars, and constructed a new level.

They played Angry Stuffed Animals for an hour.  I think they had more fun too.  My brother and I never tried to construct Pong in real life, but we would play tennis.  As I left their room to their laughing, it occurred to me as much as things change, they stay the same.  Video games keep progressing and in any generation are fun, but they can never take the place of real life imaginings.

I have a new favorite “video” game.  It doesn’t have fancy music and sounds, and it isn’t found in an app store. It has laughter, fun, excitement and creativity.  It is found in the imagination of my boys, and that makes it the perfect game.

Angry Stuffed Animals

Categories
Activities Cancer Cole Family & Friends Health losing a parent Parenting Running Ryan School Work

Time for an Update!

It’s been a month since I’ve written a blog post!  I wish I had a great excuse for not doing so, but I’ve been busy.  Mainly with work.  I work in the accounting field, and this is always a busy time of year.

I’ve been well since my last post- finding out I was cured from cancer.  It is pretty hard to top that!  My doctor changed my Synthroid dosage slightly for reasons I mentioned in the previous post.  I now take a smaller dosage on Sunday, and I’m finding I’m very tired on Monday and Tuesday.  It’s amazing how such a small adjustment down in dosage can affect how I feel.  I’ve been trying to get more rest on these nights, and just hoping eventually my body will adjust.  But it’s always a process. 

The weather has been so windy here, and we’ve had lots of rain and cooler temperatures.  Combined with my being swamped at work, and extra tired two days out of the week, I’ve not been running as often or as long as I would like to.  I also had a hard time last year, around this time of year.  Everything with my mom being sick, dying, having her funeral, her birthday, and then Mother’s Day, started in February and goes until May.  It’s only been a year, and it’s still an emotionally hard time during these “anniversary” dates. 

I’m trying to let myself feel what I need to feel and not push myself physically too much.  I have been able to get out on shorter runs on tougher routes during my lunch, and that feels like the extent of what I want to do with running for now.  I hope as the weather gets nicer, I can start running longer distances again and get out on my bike.  I was going to try to run a half marathon in April, but I hadn’t been able to build up the mileage, and I didn’t want to risk running that distance and get hurt.  I’m not going to pressure myself to run in any races for the time being, but am just going to enjoy running when I can for now. 

Ryan and Cole are doing great.  School is almost over for them, and they are excited about attending a school / day camp program where they will be learning and going on field trips this summer. They have both learned how to ice skate, and enjoy playing hockey- on ice, and in our driveway.  Ryan is finishing up Cub Scouts for the year and they both started karate lessons a few weeks ago.  They love it, and are already talking about earning their next level belt. They don’t want to be white belts anymore!  Here’s a picture of them from their first lesson:

I’m looking forward to summer- the warmer weather and spending time with my boys.  They are growing so fast, and after this summer my “baby” will be in school full-time.  Cole is going to be five next month, and in full time kindergarten in the fall.  It seems like those years from when he was a baby to now, have just flown by.  I hope we can slow down a bit during the summer, relax more, and I can savor what is left of my youngest child’s pre-school days. 

My 20th (gulp) high school reunion is planned for July. I helped plan our 10 year reunion, and am helping out as much as I can on planning the 20th.  If I thought my kids were growing too fast, it seems crazy I’ve been out of high school for (almost) two decades!  It will be fun to see everyone in person, and see all of our kids- new ones, and see how the babies have grown into pre-teens and teenagers from the last reunion.  Seems like we were just kids ourselves, and now we have kids- when did that happen? 😉

I am planning a special post in June, to coincide with the two year anniversary of my thyroid cancer surgery.  I’m excited about it, and I think it will help so many cancer patients looking for resources and answers.

This is some of what has been going on- of course there is more, but I’m trying to get to bed earlier, so the more will just have to wait. 🙂 I post shorter updates on my FaceBook Fan Page.  I hope you will stop by there, and even though it’s been a few weeks, thanks for continuing to read A Mama’s Blog.

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Activities Mothering Parenting Ryan

The Boy Scout Paradox

The day before the first day of school, Ryan’s school had a meet the teacher event. There was also a Boy Scout information booth set up in the hallway.  As we were leaving, Ryan went right to the booth and started looking at all of the pictures.  The leader started talking to us about the various levels, activities, and when it would start.  

Ryan was intrigued and was very interested in becoming a Boy Scout.  I never participated in Girl Scouts, or even knew that much about the program.  Other than seeing the uniforms around, I wasn’t sure exactly what they did or what their purpose was.  The leader told us the first meeting and information session for new scouts would be in a few weeks, and we signed up to attend the meeting.

The past few weeks I’ve asked friends who are involved in Boy Scouts their opinions.  Everything I heard from them was positive.  I asked my friends on my personal Facebook page, what their experiences with Boy Scouts had been, and again, it was all positive.  There were several adult men who commented they had really enjoyed their time in Boy Scouts and it helped them learn a lot of different skills.  One of my friends also commented there really is no other program out there for boys like it. 

Then the comment came- just about the only thing I had remembered hearing about Boy Scouts, and that is their position towards gay people.  I haven’t read the actual policy word for word, but they prohibit any person who is gay from being a leader or participating in the organization. This has been challenged legally, but since they are a private organization, the policy has been upheld. 

One of my friends told me she would have enrolled her son, who is also in first grade, in Boy Scouts if not for this policy.  She was still thinking about it.  My friend Alison, told me she had friends who participated in Boy Scouts and it really depends on the local group.  Another friend of mine from high school, who has been involved in Boys Scouts for years with his two sons, and who is a leader, confirmed the same thing.  He also said in all his years involved, he had never heard one anti-gay comment, and it had never been an issue.

In our own circle of friends and family, there are gay people.  I teach Ryan and Cole to treat everyone with respect and kindness.  Personally, I disagree with the Boy Scout policy, and think they should change it- the sooner the better.  Ignoring that people are gay, and preventing them to participate in an organization is discrimination.  It seems hateful and very mean spirited.  Most of the information I read said the Boy Scout organization does not ask, or divulge into a person’s sexual orientation.  So it seems like the classic case of ”don’t ask, don’t tell.”   

Because I don’t agree with the Boy Scouts national policy on this issue, is that a good reason to keep my six year old from joining the organization?

The biggest question I had was, would telling Ryan he couldn’t join, change anything on a national level?  Sadly, the answer is no.  I feel in this case, the harm would be greater to Ryan- telling him he couldn’t join- than it would be to the Boy Scouts.  After considering what people have said their experiences have been at a local level, it didn’t seem likely that the anti-gay policy would be an issue at this time, in Ryan’s life.  He’s only six, and doesn’t fully grasp all the issues involved in this situation.   

I also think as a parent, the most important thing I can do is let him live life.  The way he wants to, within boundaries of course.  Ryan might not like Boy Scouts after he is in it for a year and will want to quit.  Or he could love it.  But if I never let him try what he wants to do, he will never know.  If he wants to continue in it, there will be a day for this policy conversation with him.  If he feels he doesn’t want to be part of an organization that bans gay people that will be his decision to make, when he is able to do so.  Not mine.  

Last night was the first meeting and Ryan loved it.  His best friend, who is in his class, showed up as well.  They both were so excited.  They watched the older boys with the flags.  They listened to the leaders speak.  They sang a song, and learned more about some of the activities they would be doing.  Ryan is already excited about archery. He wants to go get his uniform.  Cole also whispered to me when he is in first grade, he wants to be a Boy Scout too.   

The core values the Boys Scouts work hard to install, and the sense of accomplishment they help boys to develop in themselves, seems pretty amazing.  I heard boys a few years older than Ryan speak with pride about their activities. They were well spoken, polite, and confident.  It is puzzling that an organization that can cultivate these values with boys, has an anti-anything policy-especially a sexual orientation policy that can’t be chosen.  

As I heard the boys speaking last night, and I watched my own son, excited and eager, my hope for him is to be confident, have a sense of accomplishment, and develop a strong sense of self.  It’s bizarre the Boy Scouts have developed millions and millions of boys every year, with these strong core values, while maintaining their anti-gay policy.       

If Ryan’s generation can recognize discrimination, work to change and correct it, then the Boy Scouts will have had a hand in this, by the values they help develop.  Ending discrimination should start with the Boy Scout organization.  It’s an ironic paradox.