This Was a Week...

This week was a week.... a really LONG week at school.  There was at least one curve ball that blew my careful planning for at least one chunk of everyday, but I caught them all and made it work.  How did I do it?  I prayed.

Before my feet hit the floor in the dark of morning to run with my Winnie, I prayed to love these kids and their families no matter what as the very first priority.  I prayed that no matter what level each kid would feel success every day even if it was just coming to the rug the correct way or walking in line with voices off.  If I had to do half the project for them or get a friend to help, they would be successful this week.   I prayed that I made sure even more than usual that each kid knew I loved them and I was glad they were at school.

This was a week.... a really LONG week at school, but it was a good week.

Numbers

Today is 12/12/12.  It is also double review day in room 7 so we can use facts of 2 to help us solve problems times 4.  Love the doubles!

Kevin's dad died in a helicopter crash off the coast of San Diego on 12/12/66.  With my birthday being 6/6/66, I was 6 months and 6 days old on that day.  

At dinner last night, the conversation turned to the number game.  Abbey mentioned that tomorrow will be the last day that has all the numbers the same for a hundred years.  After pondering that a bit, Kevin pointed out that because Abbey's birthday is 1/1/00... that day on 1/1/01..... she will turn 101!  

Numbers.... Time to go to work and get 12/12/12 in the history books.  

Frustrated

My hip is tight and I just want to jump back in.  I don't have the time or bucks to get it worked on constantly or pay for the classes that might let the rest get stronger and tighter while it gets untighter.   Yes, I know that untighter  is not a word, but it fits my thoughts.

I know I have life pretty good, but I have chosen a profession that frustrates me often.... the running unfrustrates me.  Yup...another non word that fits my thoughts.

I think I will get my frustrated old self to do some lonely stretches and exercises....

Signed,
Jana-AKA: Eeyore

A List

Thanksgiving brought some much needed time off work and time to reflect.  Here is a list of some things I am thankful for.  It is a less than eloquent.  It is bare bones and might need more explanation that I may or may not give.  It is not in any order. It just is.

I am thankful for...

friends who have come along side Kevin and me to raise our children.  I am especially thankful for Caz, Lisa, Jill, Carolee, and Daisy who have invested time in my Abbey.

children who are healthy physically and mentally.

a church community that preaches the gospel and a Savior who bathes me in hope and grace.

a running community that I can flutter in and out of and still feel cared for and have a sense of belonging.  

Adams School.

children.

my sense of purpose.

Kevin.

an extended family that is as quirky as me.

Deb.

Tricia.

my friends.

sisters that help me to better understand and love myself.

the most loving step mom on the planet, Linda.

a dad who loves me.

memories of my mom and my grandma.

memories.

clean water to drink, enough food to eat, and a warm bed to sleep in.

running and the way it makes me feel even when the feeling isn't good.

beer.

rest.  

music.

If I had to die tomorrow, I would also be thankful that I know in my heart where my soul is going.  No one can take that away from me.

It Counted

After a week and a day after running the Santa Barbara International Marathon I laced up and trotted off thinking I would run a nice 8 mile run at a relaxed pace before settling down with my report cards for the day.    I thought I would hop right back into running because in my mind it (the marathon) was just another workout. My clothes and self weren't drenched in sweat when I was done as I usually am after even a short tempo.  My legs were tight yet in the game for the 26.2.  Even the hip cooperated. I hadn't run in under 3:30 so my 3:33 something day was going to be chalked up as just for fun.  For most of it, it really was.... just for fun that is.

Within the first couple miles of my run today my quads tightened up and my legs felt a little wobbly.  Oh yes... I did run 26.2 miles at an 8.07 pace. My body was letting my brain know that I really did run last Saturday and it really did count. I quickly changed my plans and decided on an easy 6.   As I ran, I pondered what it was about last Saturday that robbed me of the 3:30. I totally could have done it given the right day and blah blah blah.

Here are my thoughts...

1. Last Saturday I probably went into the race still dehydrated from my travels to NY along with the fact that it is very hard to drink enough when you are teaching and your pee time is run by bells.  Lesson learned.  Pound the water don't worry about the pee factor.

2.  I did drink at almost all the stops, but it wasn't enough,  At a few of the water stops early in the race the volunteers were too far away from the tables and ran out of cups to hand out, so I went without. But I didn't worry about it too much.  In fact, I recall having the feeling of the water sloshing in my tummy even though I still felt thirsty.  Lesson learned. Make sure you get water even if you have to run up to the table and snatch it yourself.

3. To add injury to insult, even though it was cool it was also very dry out there last Saturday.    The weather reminded me of the Long Beach Marathon in 2009 when I not only died at mile 17 but my hip decided it was done with 5 miles to go.  At least this last Saturday my hip cooperated.   Also much like Long Beach, I was nicely dry and preserved in my own sweat salt when I finished the race. ( Note to self, Jana doesn't run well in dry weather even if it is cool.  Fog is good.)

3.  I didn't wear my Garmin and that made miles 16-21 difficult because the mile marks were either not there or blown here and there.   I had lost George around mile 17 right at the part of the bike path / Modoc where I get very mental.... bummer!  If I had had my Garmin, I probably would have rallied much like I did at Eugene when my foot hurt so badly and I willed myself to get back on pace for the last two miles.  Lesson learned. Wear the damn Garmin and only look at it if you need to.   Who cares if you look like a fool with two watches on!

So, yes... last Saturday counted.  It was a lesson in hydration if nothing else.  I am not depressed or even discouraged.  I am not a marathon time.  I just am.  The Garmin read 5.89 as I trotted up to the house this morning. Because I am who I am,  I jogged to the end of the street and back to make it an even 6.  It counted.

Ready or Not, Here I Run!

Yesterday I had several people ask me if I was ready.  My answer to all was different variations of "Well... is one ever really ready to run a marathon?"  It might be my day and it might not, but no matter what it is going to be a struggle at some point in the run.

I like to think of the marathon I ran here in Santa Barbara as an overdue baby.   To top it off I have some very bad personal love hate going on with much of the SBIM course.  I simply know it too well.  So actually, it is like an overdue 2nd child.

First things first in my metaphor about an overdue baby.  Training for a marathon isn't something that you just say you are going to do without training for it.   I started really running again in May after a year long hiatus from any serious training with the intention of running the NY Marathon last weekend...."Just for fun".  Yes, I trained for a 3:30 marathon.  That is the pace I run even for fun when training + I had a partner in crime who ran a just right pace to crank out those long tempos.  We were ready.

Here I am with my bouncing
carb baby.   Notice the nice fold
of the tummy over the shorts.  

So like any good marathoner I carbo loaded in spite of being sick as we traveled to New York just days after Sandy.  Gosh was that a drag.  I was bloated and gassy and uncomfortable much like one is in the later stages of pregnancy.  But, I knew that when the marathon was over I wouldn't have to even look at another Fig Newton or cinnamon raisin bagel for at least a year.  So, I choked them down and washed them down with cranberry juice.  Yuck!

Fast forward just a week and you have me choking those same items down once again.  I found the cranberry juice was pretty high in carbs and did help lubricate the other carbs so even though it wasn't really needed anymore I gulped down several liters of the stuff this last week.  Now I have it on my list with bagels and Fig Newtons not to be touched again, I hope, for at least another year.


There were some perks to running here at home. I had another week of not running all that much or far.  I did show up at the track this last Tuesday and threw down a 6:38 mile before I realized that maybe that was a little too fast for 4 days before a marathon.  I did the next one at 6:45 without feeling wiped out one bit.  I was ready.  The legs had one more week to loosen up.  The only real kicker was coming back to work and the stresses that are there along with cleaning up the mess that the substitute did while I was gone.  Stress effects my running quite a bit.... and I felt it oh boy.

The start of the marathon went well.  We were banking time and running pretty consistent 7:55's.  I felt relaxed and strong.  The legs started to tighten up when we got over to the bike path at about mile 16.  Then the stomach started at it with the feeling I was going to wretch.  But I stuck with George, otherwise known as 3:30.  I don't know if he or any of the others in the group noticed how quiet I got.

Then things got mental on me.  George and the others seemed to be racing away from me as I tried to will myself to stay with them.  I just didn't have it in me. I was alone.  It sucked.  The mile markers were blown to and fro or not there at all, so I had no idea how fast I was going. I had hit the wall.  I hate Modoc even more now than ever.

Fast forward again to the last 2 miles along Shoreline.  The legs still didn't want to whip down that hill as I have done so many times.  They were done. It was up to me to make them go and I just wasn't doing it.  Then, out of nowhere Mr. Bower shows up and encourages me to keep it going.  Even then I just wasn't doing it as I had envisioned.  But, it helped... I wasn't alone anymore.  :)  Then to my great surprise George showed up on the other side of me.  They both were there for me.   I felt so loved and cared for.  It was a strong last little .2 into the stadium and a nice welcome by my three biggest fans.

So, all ended well.  I did the best that I could do today.  I didn't give up and I learned a valuable lesson. Keep running with friends.  They make it a hell of a lot easier even when it is not.  Thanks to Rusty and June for a great marathon.   It is funny how it took me going all the way to NY to run at home.  Go figure.  I am glad I ran today here in my own Santa Barbara with my own people cheering me on!

Like childbirth, I am already thinking of the next one.  I will get that 3:30 some day.  It will be my day. For now I am enjoying that fact that I earned the right to sit around and do NOTHING today.   I did the best I could. For most of it I really did have fun.  Darn that wall.

Now if I could just find my appetite so I can eat!

Cancelled

Yup.  Kevin and I had a great day going to the Guggenheim Museum and Lululemon  on Madison Ave.   Yes, the two go together like peanut butter and jelly, so don't roll your eyes.  Upper East was alive and hopping with no sign of the tragedy going on blocks and miles away.

On our way back to the hotel we were getting some more high carb foods and more cranberry juice when my sister texted about the news.  I had to call her to believe it.  Yup.  She is right all right.    

Tonight I go out for a big juicy steak and relax.  No more guilt and second guessing.  Cancelling  was the right thing to do.  I am just glad that I didn't find out about it until after I had an afternoon serving of bread pudding.... Guilt free.  

I guess I am going to run the Santa Barbara Marathon next weekend.  It will be close to home and guilt free.  The only things I dread are carbo loading and running up Cliff Dr. at mile 22.

For now poor little old me has to hang out in New York City with my best friend and lover for 2 more days.  That is for sure guilt free.  I am glad the trip wasn't cancelled, but in my heart I am glad that the race was.  New York needs to heal.  Sometimes the show just can't go on.

Things That Can Go Wrong

Training for the New York Marathon went well.  I did all of my long training runs healthy and with both legs in the game.  I only missed 2 Tuesday track mornings as precaution when my hip was saying "Don't go there!" I trained smart.  I listened to my body.  I had my legs worked on several times to undo the harm of running close to 800 miles with little to no stretching.  I was ready.  I am ready.  But.... Things can go wrong,and they have.

First there was Sandy.  Then there was the bladder infection.  Next came over dosing on slufamethoxazol and feeling like I wanted to curl up in a ball last night when I was supposed to be packing and then sleeping to catch a plane to a disaster zone this AM.  The icing on the cake was having our flight to SFO delayed this morning and missing our earlier flight to JFK.

The story will have a happy ending though.  This morning didn't take any of the evil drug that a gave  me enough gas to fuel the plane to NY myself last night  so I am feeling a bit better yet happy to be near a bathroom to accommodate my half functioning bladder and the amount of fluids and carbs I am attempting to literally choke down.  

We did get on a flight to JFK even though my luggage was not on board.  And, no I didn't  bring a carry on with clean essentials.  We survived the taxi ride into the city.  Our driver was in a hurry!  Whoop... I about peed my pants more than once and was actually happy when the traffic slowed to almost a hault when we got into the city.  Kevin thought it was super fun and gave the guy a big tip for such speedy delivery.

So here we are in the big city and looking forward to what tomorrow will bring....hopefully it will bring my suitcase.

Mean Old Lady

Today I was exhausted.  I woke up with a headache at 5:20 AM and turned the alarm to off.  No 9 mile tempo run up and down that Cliff Drive hill with SBRR for me today.  I was going to have to go it alone.

And, go it alone I did... but not until 2:30 in the afternoon.  And, the nice flat bike path out to Goleta beach and back was about all this tight hip could handle at a 7:35ish tempo anyway... ugh.

All was well until about mile 5 of the tempo.  After a short warm up I had started my tempo run from the mile mark line just over the bridge on Nueces Drive and turned around at the mark at Goleta Beach.  When I reached that mile mark at the mobile home park heading back toward town my hip tightened up and my jaw got all tight right with it.  It wasn't fun anymore.  What was worse was I had no one to complain to or pull me along.  I decided to run in the dirt along the path.  The bike path was ultra crowded and well... I thought maybe the dirt might go easier on the hip.

Things were looking up. I started to relax.  Then, to the right of me a voice almost yelled in my ear something about motorcycles and pollution.  It was a drunk guy on a bike riding in the dirt beside me.  I tried to ignore him but he would have none of that.  I went up onto the bike path just at the 1 3/4 mark before crossing Patterson.  He stayed on the dirt side by side with me.   I had to tell him to please go away.  I don't recall everything he said.  I can't express the heebeejeebee feeling of how he was looking at me.  But I do know that I had to get him away from me because I obviously wasn't going to out run him.  Finally, I just said something like, " I am working really hard here and I need to focus.  Can you please go away....NOW!"  His  reply as he mumbled away was that I was a mean old lady.

Yup.  I am a mean old lady.  I stayed on the bike path and didn't venture onto the dirt side for fear of him reappearing.  So, me and my old lady hip just got the job done and hobbled home.  I guess I am glad that I am now a mean old lady.

He Gets It!

On Friday at the end of our day I was giving my 3rd grade class one of my pep talks about the need to read books that are a good fit.  "Good fit" means not too easy and not too hard.  I also was trying to get the point across that the more you read, the better you will read.  Sometimes we need to read for practice even when we don't feel like it when we are training to be proficient and advanced readers.

Being who and what I am, a running illustration was needed to drive the point home.  My story was completely true and went something like this.

Yesterday morning (Thursday) I had stayed up late doing school stuff and just couldn't drag myself out of bed to run 12 miles with hills before I came to school. After school I was REALLY tired.  I had tons of other stuff I needed to get done and not very much time before the sun started to go down, so I stopped what I was doing at school. I raced home and laced up my running shoes.  I really didn't want to go for a run.  The first few miles my legs felt like lead.  I really wanted to stop when the hills started, but I didn't because I knew they would make me stronger.  I didn't go as fast as Mrs. Alzina runs, but I didn't run too slow either.  It was a just right pace for me on that day.  I was practicing.   About halfway through the run I relaxed and felt better.  I actually started to enjoy myself.

I ran the 12 miles with hills yesterday because in just 6 weeks I am going to go to New York and run 26.2 miles without stopping.  This is when the hands went up to ask.... "You mean you won't even walk once?" To which I answered, "If I am hurt I might have to stop.  If all is well, I will maybe slow down at the water stops to grab and go with a cup of water.. but the plan is an 8 minute pace for 26.2 miles.  I will run without stopping for about 3:30 hours."  This blew them away....  So kids, I have to practice.  I might not always practice fast.  I might not always want to practice.  When the marathon is over I will rest, but then I will start practicing again so that I stay strong because I will probably want to run another marathon someday.

Right now you are all in training to be proficient and advanced readers in 3rd grade.  You have to practice and you have to practice every day with a book that you can read and understand.  You will have become a scholar when nobody has to tell you what to read or when to read.  You will just read.  Sometimes we will do more challenging things together in class that will be hard and you will really have to think, but it will make you stronger.  It will make the time you read by yourselves easier.

So..... after my little speech we were out at free play for the last 15 minutes of the day.  Anthony ran up to me and said, " It doesn't matter how fast you do something.  It only matters that you practice." And then he smiled and ran away.  I think he gets it! :)

Foo Dog

At 6 something this evening I finally had gotten  home and sat my bottom down in front of the computer with a cold beer in my hand. Winnie hadn't yet acknowledged my arrival home.  I could hear her doing her bush watching routine in the backyard with the jiggle of her collar as she ran from bush to bush with an occasional little high pitched woof that is more like a yippee than a bark.

I had just finished posting this very cool photo when I heard the pitter pat of little paws and felt a frantic little lick on my knee.  When I responded with my voice and not my eyes (they were on the computer), I got yet another more frantic double lick on the knee that said, "Mommy.... Look at me!"  And, look at her I did.  The next thing I knew, my dog was turning her bottom to me while pointing with her nose to the tip of her tail that had something hanging from it.   Being an ever so good dog mom, I did get up to inspect the foreign object on the end of the tail that was causing my brave little bush barking pup to shake and cower.

What was it you ask?  A cobweb with half of a dried up bug caught in it.  I quickly took the scary thing and put it in the trash.  The foo pup jumped up and thanked me as if I had taken a thorn out of her paw.  I was a hero!

A foo dog you ask?   Well, it isn't good to call her what she really is, so I just have simply left off the L. She is back to her bush and her tree now as I write and has forgotten all about the dangers of cobwebs in bushes.  She is so brave!  My bushes are all so well guarded from the phantom creatures that dwell there.  It does make it easier to sleep at night.

This One Is For Dottie

For Mom

 Some of you reading this might have known my mom, Dottie Hedgepeth.   She died the summer of 2010 in Louisville, KY.  When I was a kid, she was the Christian Ed. Director at First Presbyterian Church here in Santa Barbara.  My mom had a unique passion and flare for her work that made me feel so proud to be her daughter. In the late 70's early 80's my mom organized an ecumenical Christian education conference called Rainbow Days. Those were the days before color printing was readily available, so my mom would spend hours coloring in the rainbows on all her posters and brochures.  Crazy!  

So here I am.... Two summers since she left. My kids are old enough to do their own thing.  My husband was busy working on the house.  I couldn't run all day long.  So, I did something I have always wanted to do.  I spent hours leveling and color coding my entire classroom library.  Crazy! I also read books and watched videos to change  the way I teach Language Arts.  I am a butterfly.  I am new!  

The last two weeks I have been decorating and organizing my classroom where a theme of rainbows and dots plus a touch of rockets and the solar system has evolved.  My mom would be so proud.  This is a classroom my mom would have LOVED.  Today I took pictures while I cried a few happy tears.  This one is for mom.   

Four

I actually wrote this blog on August 6 but never got around to posting it.

Kevin comes from a family of 4 children.  His brother, John, has 4 kids.  My sister has 4 children.  If you add up my dad's children, you get 4 of us.  My dad was the youngest of 4 children.  My Uncle Dwight had 4 kids.  What is it with 4?

Last night Kevin called his sister to wish her a happy birthday.  I didn't listen to the entire conversation but ended up hearing all of Kevin's side due to his excited and therefore loud voice.  As I sat there doing the dishes and straining to hear the Olympic commentator, I thought wow... This guy really loves his siblings.  This lead to thinking about how completely blessed both Kevin and I are to have families that while not perfect are not at odds with each other.   We love our families and they love us no matter what hurdles are thrown in our way. Not everyone can say that.  

The oldest  of the 4 Johnson brothers, my Uncle Dwight, passed away this last July after a long yet graceful struggle with mesothelioma.   At his memorial service, the other 3 Johnson boys spoke.  They call themselves boys because on some levels they all view life like a boy.  At one point in the service, Uncle Walt talked about one of the last times he was visiting Dwight and how they had flown mini model helicopters around the room and dreamed of doing it in the sanctuary.  The next thing we knew one of those model helicopters was flying  around the sanctuary before landing safely on my dad's palm.   As a Johnson daughter, this didn't surprise me in the least.  

This silly little blog doesn't do justice to the wonder of family and the gratitude I have in my heart for my own.  But, it always feels good to write stuff down.  

Just a thought

My only problem with not being in the inner circle or even in the circle really of any group is that I never know what is going on...

It is isolating.

Insert Foot Here

There are many things about me that bug even me.  This isn't a Jana bashing post.  It simply is what it is...stating the facts.  I wish I had a dollar for every time I have said the wrong thing at the wrong time to the wrong person.  Instead, I simply get to stick my foot in my mouth time and time again.  The thing is, I am not saying what I say to be condescending, judgmental, or mean spirited.  In fact, 99.9% of the time I am saying what I say to encourage or attempt to seem like I belong. And, it almost always happens in situations where I feel like I don't fit 100% or have all of the facts.

This morning running up and down that darn dump hill I said something to another runner that was meant to be encouraging only to be informed by another runner that it may have been a bit of a put down.  He then filled me in on some history I was completely unaware of...Ugh!   I am so thankful he pointed it out to me and gave me the context.  That foot didn't taste very good, but I was glad to at least be aware that I was eating it.  Maybe that only makes sense to me.

Fortunately, I hardly ever taste my stinky foot when with close friends and family.  Oh, yes!  I say the wrong things with all of them for sure all the time. But, with them I belong and they get me.  So, if you aren't part of one of those groups, I am sure I have said something to you that I went home later and thought twice about how it could have and probably was taken the wrong way.  In other words, I have punished myself already and thanked God for his grace to let me try it again another day.  Pretty please let me know if what I am saying is off base when I say it and don't hate me.  :)  I am trying to keep the mouth shut and the foot out.

Things to Let Go

If you are a teacher who is also a mother and you want to start training for a marathon, here are some things you will need to let go.

1. A clean house...
Hire a maid to come every other week to keep things semi-sanitary.

2. Cooking fancy meals...
Learn how to make a mean grill cheese sandwich and serve them up hot or simply thank God for a husband that cooks and cooks well.

3. Laundry...
When the kids turn 12 have them start doing their own.  If this isn't an option yet, save the laundry for Saturday or Sunday while you are correcting papers.

4. Lunches...
To quote my 14 year old son, " Lunch is just to get me to the next meal."  It doesn't have to be fancy or all that well balanced.   In fact, often my own lunch is just a collection of snacks I can eat throughout the day when the blood sugar starts to dip during reading group or a math lesson.  I always pack my snacks-lunch the night before and encourage my two kids to do the same.  When they were smaller, my husband was the lunch maker man.

5. Hair...
There is no time for fancy hair or make- up. Ponytails are just fine and can be highly fashionable with the right earrings. Don't totally skip the make-up though, you don't want to scare the poor children with the dark circles under your eyes on the mornings you get up at 4:30 AM.

6. Clothes...
Trying to figure out what you are going to wear in the morning simply takes time that you will not have.  I find it best to have six or so "uniforms" that I rotate through during different seasons.  The nice thing about where I live is that the seasons are all just about the same, so most uniforms can be worn year round. Also, never take the time to iron.  The wrinkles will shake out by lunchtime.

7. Commuting...
Do not live more than two miles from the school you teach at or the school your child goes to.  If at all possible, have your children attend the school you or your spouse work at. This will save you a lot of time. If they must go off to junior high, they can ride their bikes to school.  On rainy days, you will just have to be a little bit late so you can drive your darling the two miles to his or her school and then the two miles to your own.

8. Getting to work early...

Don't put this stress on yourself.  You will hardly ever be the first one to get to work in the morning to get the one of the good parking spots.  Most likely you will be one of the last to get there and the last to leave.  It all balances out, so no need for feeling guilty.  On Tuesday track and Thursday long run mornings, you will most likely be about five minutes later getting to work then on other days. This really shouldn't be a problem if you are sure that you are totally ready and have everything in place for the day before you leave work every night.  

9. Fear of running in the dark...
If you are a full time teacher-mother, you will have to run in the dark of morning.  This is the only time you will be guilt free.  It will also help you to focus on other things because you will have already taken care of yourself.  The problem is that most gyms with treadmills aren't open early enough for those longer run mornings.  I am lucky and have a treadmill in the garage for really early dark, cold solo mornings when I don't even want to run with my dog along for protection.  However, what really works best is to skip the treadmill all together.  Buy a good headlamp and find a group of like minded runners to run in the dark with you at least a few times a week. Misery loves company.  Just be sure to be home in the shower before your 12 year old daughter gets up at 7:15 AM or you will be late to work for sure.

10. Weekends...
Let them go.  Relaxing weekends will only be nice surprises during the school year. You will get up early to run on Saturdays and most likely correct papers or go into work at least once over the weekend to make it possible to go to bed at 9 PM most school nights.

11. Social Life...
It will be gone unless you do all your socializing with like minded runners who totally get that you just can't really function after a 20 mile Saturday.  And, as for having people over to your house for a BBQ....  That is just not going to happen unless your husband does all the inviting and cooking.  You will need to make sure you have friends that know to go home by 8 PM on a Friday or Saturday night, so like I said... It is best to just let the social life go.

12. Reading for fun...
You will just be too tired.  Save that special book for vacations.

13. PR's...
You will just have to give up chasing the time.  There is too much on a teacher - mother's plate to worry about improving by 2 minutes on this or that race.   When it all is said and done, you really are the only one who cares about your time on a race anyway. So,  give it up and just run.   Run strong.  Run for fun. Every once and awhile you might even PR.

14. Sleep...
You just won't get much.  Sorry.  This is the hardest one for me to let go during the school year.  I LOVE my pillow.

15. Romance...
Wait! No! Don't give that up!  This is something you will have to fight for as a busy, tired runner woman.  Young children can't be left alone, but older ones never seem to go to bed.  The challenges to this part of the puzzle are many.  A gifted writer could probably make a lot of money writing a book on this one topic, but I am not gifted nor am I that writer.  If you are that person, I am happy to share ideas with you and will be very happy to hear of yours.

Old Friends

This last week I have become reacquainted with a few old friends.  Well, not just a few actually hundreds as I have cleaned out the garage and leveled and color coded all my picture and chapter books from my classroom and garage.  And, there are still a few missing friends that I haven't found yet... there must be another box somewhere.

Most of them have been sitting in boxes the last 3 years almost forgotten.  Now they are a source of great excitement for me.  How I have loved reading these books to children over the years... and there have been many years and many books I have loved and will love again as I awaken the primary teacher in me.

Don't get me wrong, I absolutely LOVED every single 4th grade scholar I ever had the privilege to teach.  I just am so excited because I haven't felt this excited about starting a new school year since the summer of my mom.  I need these books.  I need my primary teacher self back.  Maybe it is just the older I get the younger I need to be.

Double Fluff

This evening we came home from church and Winnie was really wanting to play, so I went out to throw the ball for the bored little pup. After a few rounds of fetch, the game ended with Winnie being preoccupied with the back corner fence.

On further investigation, I noticed that the ball had fallen into hostile territory...

Winnie had no way of getting the ball from this little guard dog.












He had a friend. Winnie was outnumbered and way too polite.

Sorry Winnie, but some day when you are gone and Kevin is to old to care... I am going to get one of those little fluffy pups for my very own.

Sorry Winnie

Today Abbey had her braces put on. Now that she is the only McKee dependent without braces, Winnie did some research on line. She found this picture and now keeps looking in the mirror pointing out her need for perfect teeth.

While we love our Winnie more than any pup on the planet, the bank is broke right now... She will have to settle for a mouthguard from CVS.

I just hope she doesn't eat it all in one night.... or bite for that matter. We can't afford another one for her. It isn't easy being the dog in the family.

Sorry Winnie.

Like Fine Wine

The 4th of July 15K can be tricky for me to to run well. This is a race that I have run maybe 4 or 5 times over the years. I guess we are out of town a lot for this one, or maybe I am usually just plain lazy on 4th of July. When I have run it and had "racing" on my brain, I have failed miserably. Maybe it is the distance or the course. Maybe it is just me, but if I am racing this race I almost always have gone out too fast only to die at the end and ruin the rest of the day with runners gut. Being in July, it is also a time when I am usually just not in shape to really race the 9.3 miles around Goleta/ Noleta. The moral of the story for the 4th of July 15K is Jana just can't "race" this one.

So, today I showed up with my normal shoes that are nice and stinky dirty from my recent trots around the Wilcox with Winnie. I didn't label myself with my SBRR shirt. I didn't warm up or do any strides. I didn't really have a plan. I didn't even feel a twinge of nerves jogging over to the the start. Why? Because, of course, I wasn't racing. I wasn't going to make it hurt. I was there to have a good time and run it. 9.3 miles is a distance I can easily run so what the heck! In fact, when the race started I was totally unaware in my mind that it was a race with a start and a finish and a clock going. Perfect!

At about mile 1.5 I had lost Gary and had the happy fortune to catch up to a runner that I thought was Paula's friend. Turns out she, Kelly, was visiting from Redding and had only met Paula while walking to the start. There is something about latching on to someone and pushing through the miles. Kelly was a good one too. She had lots to say and didn't seem to mind that I did too. The 9.3 just clicked by. Not once did I feel like I was struggling to keep the pace. We stopped for water when it was offered and we talked almost constantly for the 9.3 miles taking turns with keeping it going. My cardio system was relaxed and happy. I am so glad that I had Kelly there to keep me from being tempted into going faster though. My tendons and joints are just not in shape to be running a 15K much faster than I did today.

According to my Garmin, the "race" measured 9.45 miles with an average pace of 7.27 per mile. I know I didn't start the watch right when the gun went off and of course, the official time will reflect a 15K which is 9.3 miles. Even though I really don't care too much about my official time and place, I know I will spend some time looking it over later today when it is all posted on line and have no regrets. In my little world, 7.30ish minute miles were just fine for today and that is even without kicking at the end like I do when I am racing.

Running is so much more fun now that I have gotten to the point where I can just run races and keep it at a decent pace. The older I get, the better I get mentally and physically. My times hover around what I was doing 6 years ago, so I am not slowing down just yet. Like fine wine, my running habit is getting better with age.

Wrapped Around the Paw

This is a short blog about a constant battle we have with our pup to get her to eat her food. We wet it. Often we crumble some Cheerios on top that she happily picks out and turns her nose up at the rest. We mix peanut butter in it. Sometimes she gets to have her same old food soaked in the leftover juices in pans that were used to cook dinner. Even with all of this, I often have to plead and beg the pooch to even get close enough to sniff it only to walk away and be lured back again with a kibble in my hand.

Today was no different. I soaked her food for a good 15 minutes before even attempting to get her attention. She was napping on the couch as she often does on lazy days at home. When I put the bowl down she raised her head up and then snorted as she closed her eyes and continued her nap. So, I called her over with my high pitched voice that I only use for her. That got her off the couch. As she got close to sniff it, she started walking away. I wooed her back with some kibble and a tummy tickle. Often she begins to eat as if she thinks the food is going to come up and bite her. Today was no different. Once she had realized the food was not poisoned and was happily eating, I walked away as I always do.

The nice thing about Winnie is that when she does finally start to eat and I walk away, she always comes over to lick me as a little thank you when she is done. Then, she goes back to her nap. I think Winnie has me wrapped around her little paw.

Thirty Years?

Today my little brother turned thirty. Thirty??? How can that be when I remember it like yesterday? Well, ok... maybe not yesterday. But, I remember sitting in the waiting room of the Santa Maria Hospital with Jennifer who was 3 years old and Bill Tanner, Lori's boy friend. Lori was up in the delivery room with Dad and Linda. I don't know if I was invited to witness his birth, but I am sure I wouldn't have been able to handle all that then anyway.

I remember what I was wearing. Being 16 years old at the time, I guess being aware of what you are wearing is normal. I had on a white blouse with ruffles and had buttons that kind of zigzagged down the front, a teal green skirt and a metallic gold braided belt that was for looks only. I also was wearing these very cool metallic gold sandals. I was surely very stylish.

I don't recall meeting David for the first time or even what time he was born. I really only recall what I was wearing.... so I guess I don't recall it like it was yesterday.

It was fun being in college at Cal Poly when he was a young kid in Arroyo Grande though. He and Jennifer would put on these crazy funny shows for us, the adults. I guess I was an adult anyway.

Happy birthday, David. You are and always have been very loved.

Redwood Loop

Do you have a place that you go to in your mind when you just kinda need to check out of life for a minute? I know I am not the only one who does this. My place is Mount Hermon. The more stressed I am, the more I find myself there in my mind. Sometimes I am on the hammock or maybe sitting on the front porch. When I was younger, I would almost always find myself in the canoe or up in the crows nest. Most often these days I find myself not really at the cabin at all but over at Henry Cowell Redwoods running around and around my favorite loop that we called "Big Trees" when I was a little kid. Now it isn't "Big Trees", they are my trees. I know every little bump and turn in that eight tenths of a mile loop. I know the smell, the sounds... I crave it when I am not anywhere near it.

Tuesday morning I found myself there. I slept in so it was hot along highway 9 into the park, but once under the redwoods it didn't matter what time it was. I told myself, "OK, you need to get back to this or that... so only one redwood loop and then back to the cabin." Yeah right. Once I started along my loop the pace quickened with no effort. It was too late in the morning for deer to startle and too early for tourists to dodge. A tree had fallen on one part of my loop which caught me off guard but other than that everything was the same. As if on cue at 9:00 something-ish, the bells and horn on the train at Roaring Camp woke up and let the world know that it was going to start its first trek up the hill full of little kiddos and their parents. Gosh, I love that sound. My one loop turned into probably three or maybe more before I trekked back out to highway 9 and around the "long way" to the cabin. Kevin was waiting and scolded me for being gone longer than I said I would be... will he ever learn?

I ran around my loop a couple more times while we were up there this last week, but there is nothing like the first long awaited run in the redwoods. Nothing like it on the entire planet. This is the place I go. This is where I have too many memories to write and plenty to keep me running around and around that loop or up and down that gnarly hill called Pipeline without thinking about time or speed or anything else. I told Kevin I was sorry I was late, but I really wasn't.

Thank You Mr. Sylvester!

Bill Sylvester is a wonderful man. He came to my classroom every day just about for the the second half of the school year to help me try to fill in some gaps that some of the 4th graders had in math. Once I got my head around the fact that they really would benefit from a little one on one with Mr. Sylvester than any wonderful lesson or activity I had planned, things really started to click. Kids would beg for their turn to go with him to practice long division, simplifying fractions, or simply learning their math facts using his finger trick. This man made a mark on many lives this school year that I could not have made in the sea of students and their needs. This guy is what learning is all about. Bill makes a real difference. Ooops... did I already say that?

Anyway, when I asked his grandson the other day what Bill liked, his reply was "fish". Ok... so I then asked him.... "Does he like to eat fish, sport fish, or look at fish?". Charlie replied, "Oh, he has a fish tank, but he likes to eat fish too." So funny! I love Charlie! Anyway, that gave me an idea for what to do as a thank you. I did go the other day to purchase the thank you only to lose it. Ugh! The great thing about Mr. Slyvester is he doesn't even need a thank you. He loves working with kids. They are his reward. I will find his gift and get it to him soon though. I know it is on my desk somewhere.

Suzy

Today I went to a memorial service for a wonderful woman who lost her battle with cancer last week. Suzy was a very unique person. She was spacey yet grounded. Sure of herself yet humble. Suzy was not like anyone else I know.

One memory I have of her popped in my brain as I sat there in the memorial service today. I am standing on the second floor the E. Pedregosa house on the phone that was in the hall near the stairs that went up to the third floor. Suzy is singing some sort of love song in my ear on behalf of her brother, Mike. So funny. Who would do that? Suzy would. I wonder to this day if Mike even knows about that. Well, if he is reading this... he does now.

That was just the kind of person Suzy was. She never made me feel like the tag along little sister as we all made our way home from Santa Barbara Junior High when Lori and she were 9th graders and I a lowly 7th grader. She was other oriented. She was a good person.

Being at her memorial service was sad, but in a way very comforting. Many of my memories of her are wrapped up with First Presbyterian Church and some of the people that were there today. Bill, Lori, Anne, Jim were all there. They all kind of go together. They are all comfortable. I felt like I was the little tag along sister who belonged there.

I am sorry Suzy had to suffer. I am sorry the cancer won. I am glad I went today.

Almost 46

Soon I will be 46. My eyes are gone: My face reminds me of my Grandma Winnie's: and well... you don't want to know the rest.

I am at mid life or maybe just past by a few years. If cancer doesn't get me, I hope to live to a nice ripe age of 90 or maybe 91... but no more. The fact is that I don't fear death all that much. I enjoy what I can do and the new things I can learn. I enjoy making a difference. Maybe at 90 or 91 I can still make a difference at what I really want to make a difference at. I guess that only makes sense to me and my Lord.

So here I am... almost 46. I am a professional. I hold a great deal in my hands. I work hard. I care a lot. I sacrifice way too much only to be told by society that I get the summer off. That I do. I will never be teacher of the year. I will never win awards. I will never win a marathon or even a 5K. I will never be in the inner circle of any group. But... that's ok.

I have a husband and a family that needs me and loves me. I have friends that stick by me in spite of me.

I am ok with who I am as long as I can keep running.

Toot-Toot

OK. Here I go... I am going to toot my own horn even though it wasn't really me that did all the hard work.

If you have read my blogs, you know that getting 4th graders to read on their own to build their vocabulary and fluency can be a struggle for some kids. I have been cheerleading and coaching, showing joy and sometimes disappointment when looking over their weekly book logs. We have practiced in class reading aloud, silently and with partners. It is all about vocabulary and practice I have told them almost every school day this year.

So, today I gave my last fluency check of the school year. All but one student improved, and I think he was just having an off day. The five that were far below and below basic in the winter brought it up to a basic! Two of those basics are only two words short of the proficient mark! Five others that were basic in the winter pulled it up to proficient! And, about five that were proficient are now advanced. So, now I have a class that has thirteen advanced , nine proficient, and six basic readers (and these six are well on their way to proficient!). Let me tell you, this was not where we started in August! I know reading fluency isn't the whole cookie, but it is a nice GREEN flag for these kids to keep reading. I am a very proud coach.

If you want to be a good runner, you run. If you want to be a good reader, you read.

I think all 28 of them got the message this year and are on their way!!!! This is what makes it all worth it.

Toot-toot

Seeing the Balloons!

Here we are coming up on the last 8 days of school. There is so much to do in such a short amount of time that my head is spinning and I almost feel paralyzed. All I want to do is sit and read the book I started last weekend when we went away to Bay to Breakers.

Wednesday is Open House. Slide show... check. Pollinator projects on their way to being done enough to display... almost check. Writing portfolios... ummm... not check. Classroom clean enough for people to see... definitely not check. Desk cleaned off and organized... That is just not going to happen before Wednesday.

Friday is Gold Rush Day. Schedule sent to all involved...check. Props together for Friday's 9:30 AM play... almost check. Gold rocks painted... check. Wanted posters all burned and ready for pictures and writing...check. (Kevin wasn't too happy having me burn the last 15 or so that needed to be done today. Hey, I did it at the stove and the smoke alarm didn't go off even once!) Gold Rush nicknames chosen for wanted posters...check.

This weekend is report card weekend. Last minute assessments to be sure all the nitpicky little standards are taught and assessed... check. Summary and Compare/Contrast papers graded and in Easy Grade Pro... check. (Guess what I did yesterday while you were enjoying the sunshine.)

If you have bothered to read this far, I am sorry. This list isn't even half of what needs to get done. I really do need to make a list, but I fear that I might have an anxiety attack if I do. I can do this. I always do, and then there is summer!

My biggest thing to do is to love these kids for 8 more days and hope and pray they don't remember me as the teacher that constantly had to stop and give them the stink eye to be quiet. Saying good-bye isn't easy. I have a lot invested in these young lives. I hope they know I care.

Next year will be 3rd grade. My new teammate, Carlos, says that it will be so much easier for me than 4th. I am sure I can find a way to make it more work than it needs to be, but I am enjoying the idea of not working so hard.

Almost there! I can see the balloons! But, just like any race I feel that I have done well... I am already thinking about the next one.

I Am a Mother

I am a mother. I don't keep the house ultra clean. I don't bake. I don't sew. I don't cook dinner unless there is no other option. I do the dishes. I don't hover. I don't yell... much. I do nag. I do love. I do tease and goof around. I do embarrass (them). I do care. I do worry about their safety. I do compliment their good looks and brains. I do their laundry. I make their lunches every once and awhile. I do praise and encourage them. I do hug and kiss them often. I do tell them what I think is right and wrong. I am honest with them and don't shelter them from the world but trust them to make the right choices. I do pray for them to make the right choices...whatever those might be for them. Most of all I love them and am so proud of them. Yup. I am a mother. I am lucky.

A Rare Run

99% of the time I feel energized and happy after I run. Today... not so much. Today was one of those rare runs, thank goodness.

I couldn't get myself out of bed this morning (again) to run before school. The alarm has been set for extra early yesterday and today so that I would have time to run at least 6 or so miles before heading to school to be there on time to get everything all set and ready for STAR testing. Great idea...right? The problem is or was that the last 2 mornings the alarm has rung and I have turned it off and rolled over.

No big deal I tell myself...you can leave work early today and run run run. So, yesterday I left work early (staff meeting was short) and headed out for my 6.5 run. It felt just fine starting out and got better as I got going. I even ran the run into the YMCA to lift weights. Wonderful after school workout! So, today when the alarm went off at that gosh awful early early hour, I vowed to run after school again. No problem.

But, it was... I didn't want to go for a run when Abbey and I got home from school 2 hours earlier than most Wednesdays. I had to convince myself that if I started out I would feel better by mile 2 or 3 and would then probably feel so good that I would add on to make it an 8 miler. Ha. No dice. Today was one of those runs when the acid is bubbling in your tummy and your legs feel like cement. Every mile seems so slow and heavy even when you are going your normal easy pace. The problem is that it doesn't feel easy.

At mile 3 or so I decided to really slow down. That was probably what made the last 2.5 miles so awful. They took FOREVER. So, today I didn't love running. I didn't even like it. 5.51 miles of torture.

Tomorrow I am getting up extra early and running with the extra early HRT people if it kills me. (By extra early, I mean the people who meet to run even before the "normal" 5:30 group starts out. I am NOT running after school tomorrow and I have to be on time to work for just one more day. I can hide my yawns as I walk around and encourage young children to prove their smarts with a test and bubble sheet.

GO Team McKee!

Ten

Ten miles is a good workout without feeling like a wipeout.

4th graders start turning 10 years old about halfway through the school year which often brings a sense of self-awareness and confidence.

$10 in your pocket might actually get you something worth having.

I use "getting to ten" mental math all the time in my daily life.

Just 10 minutes of lying in bed thinking after the alarm goes off in the dark of morning feels sooooo good.

10 O'clock PM is the perfect bedtime.

It is easy to figure 10% of the bill and then double it to leave a tip.

When you count down from ten to zero it is just enough time for 4th graders to catch a clue, sit in their seats, get out their books, and zip their lips for instruction...with it all feeling like a game they are playing with the teacher. :)

Ten is s very nice number. It is my favorite.

Humbled

This morning I got up and looked out the window to see some sky, so I slugged down the coffee and headed out the door for an hour long romp with Winnie the Pooch.

Upon our return, I decided that today was the day that I was going to put my workout clothes in the car and head to the Y WITH Abbey for her 5 PM water polo session. I capitalized "WITH" because this is something I have not done since my lovely turned 12, the golden age of independence at the YMCA. Since January I have been dropping her off and then zooming back to work on Tuesday and Thursdays to do the finishing touches or copy this or that.... Why did I let myself get sucked in? What I had done in the fall was to dutifully go to the Y at 4 while she swam so I could do weights and PT exercises and then go back to work after to do the this and thats that I gotta do... Or at least in my sick little mind feel like I have to do.

So, today after almost 5 months of lifting not one weight or doing one set of 100's, I showed up at the Y and I started back. All I can say is.... humbling.

It just amazes me how hard fitness comes and how easily it vanishes. Yikes! This fall I was still in the zone of not really running much and instead working on my core and spinning the wheels off the bikes at the Y whenever I had the chance. Man was I in shape! I recall walking around feeling like I was holding in my stomach, but the funny part of it was that I couldn't not hold it firm and tight. It just was.

After the winter break, I started to get my weekly (running) mileage hovering around 40 miles all pretty much in the predawn darkness so I could work late into the evening. I didn't have to be at the Y for Abbey, so I worked. I didn't sleep well at night to get up for Drea's Friday class, so I didn't go and then bam!... all the fitness and core strength GONE. Just like that. Humbling.

I have about a month until I am 46. Time to get the core back! Oh, but it is going to HURT so good.

Winnie the Cog

Life with Winnie has changed in the last few months. She is becoming or has become some sort of cog. Cog, you say? By cog I don't mean the dictionary meaning:
cog |käg|
noun: a wheel or bar with a series of projections on its edge that transfers motion by engaging with projections on another wheel or bar.

My definition:
cog |käg|
noun: a dog that in a lot of ways is a cat.

I simply put just one letter from cat and two from dog because, yes, Winnie is more dog than cat.

No matter what she is, it is for sure that she is no longer a puppy in all the ways that were so fun yet expensive in her earlier life. She no longer eats holes in socks or whole socks as she did in her youth. She can lie on the couch for hours with the remote right by her head with no temptation or desire to eat it. Shoes and flip flops are no longer chew toys. She does still look for attention by running around with a shoe or other off limits thing, but will drop it when commanded. I knew all along that she knew right from wrong, and now I have proof. A recent example of her new found dogness was her new found obedience at a critical moment in time. We had just left the Wilcox after a 5 mile off leash romp. I was too lazy to hook up her harness and used her collar to leash her up. When we got to the car, Winnie was not ready to go and she wrestled herself out of her collar (that was attached to her leash). Just then a car was coming down the street. I screamed in terror, "WINNIE COME!". You know what that dog did? She took a look at the Wilcox before turning around and trotting right to me and hopping in the back part of the van that she normally has to be forced into. In her puppyhood, she wouldn't have even looked back, and the car would have swerved to avoid her. So, yes.. she was a good girl, a very good girl. She didn't have to use another one of her nine lives (that I think she got from her catness) on that one. I think she was about out of them, so she became a dog just in time.

Aside from her nine lives, Winnie has always been a little bit of a cat. As she has grown into a dog, her catness has become more apparent. First of all, Winnie is a finicky eater. She prefers her dry kibble wetted and soaked and even then she can easily walk away from it if she isn't in the mood. Another example of her catness is her ability to turn away affection if she is in the middle of a nap. Today she was out on the patio soaking in the sun. When I sat down next to her to give her a loving, that cog got up, walked a few feet away, plopped herself in a new sun spot,shut her eyes, and ended the drama by making a very loud dog sigh. The rejection!

Unlike a real cat, Winnie is a total scaredy-cat. She is scared of anything mechanical that makes noise and moves or blows or sucks. She comes running for mommy or whoever is available before the mechanical device is even plugged in. I have to put my cog in the garage in her crate when the maid comes due to the fact that she about bit the poor lady who must use a vacuum to do her job properly. Winnie still won't run on the sidewalk in front of a house on our street that had fake cobwebs on it this last October. She also has a strange nervous habit of barking at a particular bush in our yard every night that once was probably home to a rat that startled her in her puppyhood. The list of odd things this scaredy-cog is scared of could go on and on and probably could be a source of its own blog. But, I will stop here.

When all is said and done, Winnie really is a dog. No cat would bark as much or run as fast as my Winnie. Well, I don't really like cats so I am glad that she is a cog and not a dat. Although, I have met dats that I almost liked.

Almost Perfect

Nothing is ever perfect. Or is it? When I was a kid the one time I can recall getting my mom really angry with me was the time I told her that she was perfect. (Knowing me at that age, I am sure I said it in a not very complimentary tone of voice.) Wow. She flew off the handle. "Jana Elaine, no one is ever perfect!" Yikes. So true. Does that mean nothing else is either?

Yesterday was close to perfect. I slept until 9:30. My day was laundry, reading the paper on the couch, writing a blog, petting my pooch (often), an easy paced 15 miler, and dinner at a friend's house. Almost perfect!.... until the runners gut hit me hard at about
10PM and kept me up a lot of the night. Lying there I worried about my health and the inability of the doctors to ever put a name to when it gets this bad. Exercise induced Colitis and internal hemorrhoids have been thrown around. Ugh! I guess I should make an appointment to go in and have them not know again. This has been a problem since I was in my teens, so I guess I won't die tomorrow. I probably shouldn't run tomorrow either. It has been hard to keep myself from going today as the conditions for running are PERFECT with sunshine and a cool breeze...

So, life is not perfect. Heaven will be some day. I will run and run and run with no fear of the runners gut.

Allowing Failure

Yesterday I hustled out of school to give myself time to shower and put on my red dress, red high heels, red lipstick and mascara. At 3:45 we loaded the kids in the car, locked the pup in the front room and headed up to Cal Poly for Kevin to get his award from the National Center for Women & Information Technology.

Upon our arrival on campus it was cold and windy and I began to have the first inkling that maybe I was slightly overdressed. We were a half hour early for the 6 PM event. Walking in the door the first thing I noticed was that the event coordinator was dressed how I normally dress for school.Wearing nice yet casual pants and boots with a long sleeve T shirt of some kind, she looked like she had just walked out of a Title Nine catalog. I was sure she was even wearing my brands; Horny Toad and Born. Darn! I just didn't feel like myself in that red dress and heels. I wanted to shout out, "I wore this for Kevin!" Needless to say, I kept my mouth shut and my coat on. By the time the program started I forgot all about what I was wearing under my coat anyway.

The evening was about women in a world of technology that is heavily dominated by men. The evening was about dreaming big. The first speaker was a young lady who had gone to Cal Poly for her undergrad work and came out with a BA in animal something or other only to realize that this was not what she wanted to be or do. What did she do? She started taking computer science classes and entered an entirely new field with an MA in computer sciences from Cal Poly. Now she has a the job of her dreams at a software company that makes educational tools and apps. Wow! She was so inspiring to me. If only that had been me 24 years ago!

The next thing on the program was a panel of young ladies who are now computer science majors at Cal Poly. These women echoed the message of the speaker. Several of them had also kind of fallen into computer science and discovered a world that opened so many doors for them. One speaker said something that I wish I had learned for myself years and years ago. " It is OK to fail at first. Don't let fear hold you back. Failing at first is the way to learn sometimes." Wow! How freeing that is to embrace this concept. I have told students this over and over, but I have NEVER believed this for myself. If you are giving it your all, it is OK to fail. Sometimes dreaming big means allowing yourself to fail.

Before we left Abbey and I were alone walking to the restroom. Our conversation was something like this:

"This was really good! "

"I know, it is so inspiring. You know, Abbey, you could be one of them very soon."

"But, I don't know anything."

"Abbey, you are only in the 6th grade. You have the brains to do it."

I didn't say this part but I was thinking it...

"Didn't you hear her Abbey when she said it is ok to fail at the beginning? Did you hear as all the girls up there echoed that it wasn't easy, but now they are finding success in a male dominated major? Don't you know that I was really good at math once in my life and probably would have been able to train my brain to do what these girls are doing, but I was too scared of failure and took the easy way out? Abbey don't be like me. You are better than that."

To make a long story short, last night I was more than a proud wife. I was also a proud mother who is sure her daughter will discover herself much sooner in life than I did. I know if I had been a young lady sitting there, I would have been changed. Why?...because I was. It is just a little late to call myself a young lady, but you never know.

Not Even 24 Hours

Not even 24 hours. Yup that is all I lasted with my FB account deactivated. Last night I decided that I spend way too much time and tell why more about myself then anyone should ever do in such a public forum. I guess I was a little embarrassed when I really thought about the fact that it isn't just my family and close friends who read what I write. So, Jack showed me how to deactivate. Bam. Done. Quick and easy.

This evening I went for a quick little 6 miler. As I have said many times before, while I run I think. Towards the end of my run I realized that if I am not on FB I won't be able to see how my running friends do in Boston on Monday or easily up load more pictures that Lori is going to send me from her recent trip to SB. I also rationalized the fact that nobody who doesn't want to read my blog has to and that most don't anyway. That seems like good sound logic to me.

Sooooo, right in the door I slammed my butt in the chair and clicked on the computer. Bam. Done.... Not even 24 hours.

(PS: I know the date of this post is yesterdays. This one I actually posted where I deleted another one I had written. This was posted Thursday at 10 PM.... Way past my bedtime.)

Selfish Me

Today Jack announced that he needed new pants, so I took him to Sears to get him 2 pairs of Levi's 29x30. He protested that they would be too long to which I let him know that he will not get any bigger around only taller, so if they drag for a bit....live with it.

We walked out of there with our 2 pairs of jeans for a whooping 80 something bucks. It didn't hit me how much money that was on pants that he will eventually grow out of until just a bit ago. My only consolation was that Levi's 29x31 is the size I wear, so I took the pants back to my room and modeled them for my dear 14 year old son. They fit! A bit short.... Is that mean? Yup.

So, he can keep both pairs and grow out of them. They should be nice and worn in by then. I actually would prefer 29x31. Maybe I will sneak one pair back when he isn't looking and get that size. Selfish I am and selfish I will be. :) Again I ask..... Is that mean or just planning ahead? Hmmm... back to Sears I go tomorrow. I am selfish. Yup.

Just to add a little note.... On the way home from Sears Jack said one of my Jana words. That poor boy is more like me than anyone should have to be. His only consolation is that he did get his dad's brains. I am sorry, Jack. It isn't easy being us even if you are smarter than me. Some day my personality will haunt you like my mom haunts me. (In a good way, of course.)

Maybe Abbey could wear his old jeans.... Hmmmmm.... Now that would be REALLY mean. I won't go there.

April Fool?

My mom was always very comfortable around men. I never thought I was until Kevin came along. What was it about Kevin? Thank God for Kevin. Now, I actually feel more comfortable around men than some women.

The night before our wedding my mom said to him.... "You know she is really hard to live with. She complains a lot."

Yup. That is me. I complain a lot. I confess.

He married me anyways. April Fool?

Missing Her

Today I walked and talked and was Dottie Hedgepeth, my mother... Well, ok, she would not have gotten up at 4:50 AM to meet a huge group of people to run up and down the hills of Hope Ranch for 8.5 miles.... but in every other way I was acutely aware of my wording and reactions to things all day long.

We are coming up on the 2nd anniversary for the ending of her beginning. Two years ago this spring vacation was really the last time I had with my mom as my mom. She was dealing with her ovarian cancer but was in a good time with all the chemo treatments when we went out for Easter in 2010. I just have a so many snap shots and mini movies in my head of that visit. One that I think of often is sitting in church with her on Easter Sunday 2010 thinking that the next time I would be in that church it would probably be without her.

So, I am sad. I am preoccupied. I want to crawl in a hole and cry and just not deal. But, life is good. I am ok with being a lot like her. She was a very unique and complicated woman in a very simple way. I really miss her.

Back to Normal ?????

I realized something about myself today. As the test scores are more important and the class size bigger, I have completely kept myself sane by running a spring marathon the last two years and training with SBRR. This year none of the races matched up with a time I could be away from school, so I just ran on my own and got a lot of sleep. I also have been very unhappy and probably not a very good teacher as a result.

After almost a full year of not showing up for Tuesday morning track workouts with SBRR, I got my scared little butt out of bed at 4:50 and made it in time for the 5:30 warm up to be on the track by 6:00. The warm up felt as if I had never been gone. Same route. A few more people had joined the early early group, but I knew them all. I almost got Arnie killed by a speeding car when he followed me into the intersection of Hollister and Turnpike.... Yikes! But, other than that, it was all good, real good.

At the track I hoped that Rusty wouldn't really notice me and I could just kind of follow a group at a pace that would calm my nerves, but lucky me that Rusty is such an observant and able eyed guy in the dark. He spotted me with a big smile and said I could run with Hillary. We were to do 6X600 at 97 pace. OK, I can do that... Then it was a 2 mile at 1:40 pace! Yikes. I could probably do that but... oh so scared to hurt myself the first day out. So, I did the 600's with Hillary. They were good.... smooth.... just fine. Hillary was the watch girl as I am now an old blind lady. I think she said we were 3 sec. off the first 600 but then we got on pace and maybe even went faster. I really have no clue and really don't care. When it came to the 2 mile I purposely didn't run with Hillary and teamed up to run the 7:10 pace group. I knew I wouldn't hurt myself with 1.47's but 1.40's or faster... nope not gonna do it the first day out. So, I didn't. The 1.47 felt great. Not a problem. After the 2mile I hopped back into Hillary's 3x600 that she claims were at pace or faster. I felt smooth, I felt fine. Yippppeeeeee! It had been a very long time since I had felt so smooth running around the track. Maybe all that core work really did balance me out a bit. Yipppeeee... Let's hear it for 2 legged running. There was nothing to be scared of after all.

So if you are not a runner and have read this far, I am amazed. Now you get the punch line. Today was a fantastic day at school. I don't know if anyone noticed but me, but I felt like myself again.

Alone

In the fall of my 7th grade year I had my first "boyfriend". Ok, so he was the little brother of Susi and Anne who also happened to be my sister's buddies. It was all a set up.... In any case, I started to care about how I looked and all that much more than I had before. I won't say I dieted, but I started to eat a little less. And, I started a little routine of jogging from our E.Pedregosa St. house up to Constance and back. It was probably about a mile or so at first and then I started to add on to make it more like 2 miles. I recall wearing a pair of red, cotton drawstring shorts that were snug yet comfortable.

That summer I went down to Thousand Oaks to live with my dad and a very pregnant Linda. It was also the summer that I got my first job babysitting a little boy across town and making some nice cash for girl who had just turned 13. Needless to say, I wanted to spend my money on new clothes and I wasn't liking how they were fitting. I was also noticing that Lori was getting some major attention for her dieting efforts.

The stage was set for me a competitive control freak to cut off the eating and ramp up the exercise. Towards the end of the summer I had lost probably 10 pounds and was exercising in the heat of a TO summer.... My life was controlled by what I had to do and what I couldn't eat.

That fall I only got better at it. I probably dropped another 15-20 pounds by Halloween... if not more. My diet for the day was no more than 300 calories towards the end of my non eating hell. It was lonely and controlled. I was sick. All I thought about was what I couldn't eat and what I had to do. I felt alone. My E. Pedregosa to Constance jog continued. The red shorts got loose.... really loose.

I feel alone again, but it isn't my weight.... I feel like all I do is work or think about work. I walk around feeling like I don't belong anywhere but in a classroom full of kids.

Kevin

Kevin is a very good husband. Every woman should have one like him. He makes me feel like I am hot even when I am not. He understands that I would probably be a stress case right now with whatever job I had. But, the most important thing about Kevin is that he is always on my side and sees my point. Besides, he is really cute and friendly and makes up for my social inabilities.

Not My Worst And Not My Last

Sunday morning I woke up with a warm almost 2 year old by my side. The rest of the family was away. It was just me and the pooch. I had planned to finish up on report cards before leisurely going for a little warm up run and then down to the beach to do a 5K race, but Winnie would have nothing to do with that. She needed a run and a jog wouldn't do. So, I got the chuck it and the poop bags. Off we trotted to Peabody School to have a few rounds of fetch. Eventually the tuckered pooch let me get her back on her leash to head home where I quickly pinned on my number and hopped in the car heading south.

I don't really know why I signed up for the 5K. I hadn't run a 5K in probably 2 years. I hadn't run faster than one mile at a 7.42 pace during one of my long runs a few weeks back... and that was a struggle. I decided to make 8 minute miles my goal and be pleasantly surprised with 7.40's. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt myself right out of the chute.

Fortunately, I saw Stewart and Deborah at the start. I knew I could keep up with them if I were ready to. I also knew that if I ran faster than they did I was going to hurt myself. At the "ready start" I was relaxed and felt strong. At the half mile or so I looked at my Garmin that had me at a 6.45 pace with Stewart and Debora not far ahead. I decided to ease into it a bit even though I did feel just fine. I just didn't want to regret going out too fast and hurting myself. I didn't want to strain or feel pain.

At the turn around at the top of the hill I let myself check my watch again. It was in the 7's... I felt good. Nauseated yes, but staining and paining, no. I decided I could pick it up a little if I needed to at the end so I lived into it a little more. I felt strong and in control. A chickipoo with really heavy breathing panted up on to me at about mile 2. Wow! I was glad to not be working so hard! But, I felt strong and steady, so I let her go. I wasn't racing. I was just glad to be running a good pace with so little effort. (Well.... effort yes, threshold, no ) And....most importantly, I felt like both my legs were in the game! Yipppppeeeee!!!!

With .1 of a mile to go and on flat land, I picked it up for a little bit of a kick. It wasn't a strain or pain but it was effort. The whole time I was very aware of the fragile balance of my to easily hurt untrained legs. But, oh.... it felt so good to go through that chute. I love running. I have missed it. 21.52 (7.03) miles isn't a PR but it wasn't my worst and it isn't my last.

Half of a Full

I am a cup is half empty person sometimes, but for the most part I see it as half full. Today my run was definitely half full! In fact, it was just .04 miles shy of being half of a full marathon.

This morning I slept late and putted around the house not feeling the desire to go for a long run at all. Kevin was going out to work, so I hitched a ride out to DPHS as I knew I would then be forced to get the miles in. In my mind it was going to be a better than nothing long run Saturday.

To my surprise the miles were clicking off at my normal speed without much stress or discomfort. In fact, I felt good and strong at 8 miles that I decided to run the 9th mile at a little faster pace. This mile I did pay very close attention to my pace and was pleased and humbled to run it in 7.42. I was pleased that I got myself to rally yet humbled because a 7.42 pace used to be not such an effort. All the way home I thought to myself, I need to upload my run today and see what all the other miles were paced. Had I run the other 12.06 miles faster than I thought? Am I in better shape than the 7.42 made me feel?

Moving Time: 1:56:06
Avg Moving Pace:8:53 min/mi

So, now I see that I wasn't running the 13.06 miles all that slow at all. You see, I don't turn my Garmin off at lights or stop signs. It gets calculated into my total time, so I always think I am running slower than I am. My moving time today even included my short little walk session after my 7.42 and another time when I walked across at an intersection that I knew would take forever anyway. Not bad. Hmm... No wonder the 9th mile took a little more work. That is what I call a half full cup of running today! Pretty darn good for a lady who hasn't done any tempo training or track workouts in months and months ! Yeah me!

Final Push

I am a little bit worried about myself lately. Way too many things are getting by me. I am less observant and organized than I have ever been in my life. Could it be that I am just on overload? Have I gotten to the point of saturation and unable to retain anything?

I do think I am at the top of my game with teaching though. Maybe it is the last hurrah... the last final decade to the finish?

I can run ten miles no problem. Ten more years....

Smart Boys

I live with Kevin and Jack who are two of the smartest people I have ever met and yet the most unmotivated and lazy all in the same breath. Well, Kevin isn't lazy so much. I guess the label of procrastinator would work better for him. Jack...Hmmmm...Let's just say he is less than task oriented about most things attached to school.

Kevin is the kind of person who knows EVERYTHING about everything and nothing too. It amazes me to listen to him talk it up with someone about baseball or the latest football game when he didn't watch a minute of the game. He knows details about this and that at the drop of a hat. He can give hour long lectures about economics or historical events that are all well thought out and easy to understand. Sometimes I wish he had been my college professor for all those GE classes I slept through when I was in my late teens and early twenties. Kevin is also a very good editor. In fact, he isn't home tonight to read this over before I post it, so my personal grammar check and 4th grade writing style will have to do. Oh! And, can this man take a test on just about any subject and pass it with little to no study time! His first few years at DPHS he was getting new credentials for this and that just by passing a test. I think one day he actually took two of those tests in one day and passed them both.... But, I might be wrong about that little factoid. When we were dating he got a job at a company that hired him solely based on his IQ score! Little did they know that he was not a match for that company. Kevin is not motivated to work long hours no matter how much you want to pay him. About the only thing Kevin likes to work long hard hours on is his family and his home. That's it.

We knew Jack was smarter then the average toddler even before he could talk. It was his destiny to be Kevin's little mini-me. When he was in elementary school he would write up these legal documents stating his disagreements with everything from his little pesky sister to the fact that he had to do this or that. He also enjoyed coming up with his own companies to which he would be the CEO and would hire and fire Abbey several times a day. His imagination was amazing. As he grew his head swelled to match his smarts and the idea of organization and careful studying was lost on a young boy who had everything come so easily to him. The standard based report cards did nothing to tell us of his performance in class really due to the fact it was all Advanced. Jack spent most of elementary school quietly reading his book of choice under his desk while the teacher was teaching.

So, here we are in junior high where grades matter. Study skills matter. Organization isn't a backpack full of papers to be emptied at the end of the year or dumped on your bedroom floor every few days. I think you get the picture. I am the nagging mom getting upset about homework grades. I almost could care less that he gets an A on a test if in the same class his papers are scattered to the four winds and not included in notebook checks or turned in on time as homework. I know I need to settle down. It is nice to be surrounded by intelligence. I don't think it is wrong to hope that at least a little of my black and white determination to do things in a timely, organized manner will rub off on Jack. He does have a lot of my less than endearing quirks, so it only seems fair he should get something good from me. There is still hope. He is getting better about shutting the door when he leaves for school in the morning. I need to focus on the positive.

Thinking

I know I talk about running a lot, but well... it is what I do. When I run, I think. Today I thought about a lot of random stuff on my 16.2 mile trot out to Goleta and back. I thought about the fact that I am not really training for anything and therefore lack the motivation to get my core strong or show up to run faster and earlier with SBRR. I started to argue with myself as to how I could get on the track and run around it in a dark obis with my pace group Tuesday mornings or show up just as the sun is rising to go the distance with SBRR. Finally, I just let that one go so I could enjoy my 9 minute pace with no guilt. Around mile 4 or 5 I thought about kids. Not other people's kids, but MY kids. This is something I do not do enough.

Gosh, they have changed so much this school year. They don't even look like the kids in the pictures we took on our vacation to Hawaii this summer. They don't sound the same either. Abbey's voice isn't as babyish and high. She is much more emotional as she approaches "womanhood". I am sure that will be any day now. We are already sharing tops and could probably share bras, but we don't. :) Jack's voice is in the wobbly stage as his testosterone messes with his vocal cords. His lip has a nice little peach fuzz on it and his face is more chiseled. ( I had to ask him how to spell chiseled just now. Thank God he is a better speller than me. His sister is not so lucky.) Both kids are good kids. Both say they will never drink alcohol. That "NEVER" in their statements is sure to change when they find themselves with children just like them.... but I am fine with the "NEVER" until then. Jack can be our designated driver in just 2 years!

I also thought about other stuff:

- The darling videos of my kids using their imaginations in April 2009 ( Ages 9 and 11)
-My mom
-Kevin
-What half marathon I need to sign up for this spring
-What I wanted to buy from Horny Toad this afternoon
-I wondered/dreamed what it would be like to teach one subject and teach it well (i.e.: Jr. high).

To my surprise I didn't plan one lesson or stress about one kid for the entire run! Yippeeeeeee!!!!

Good run!