Running

When I graduated with my masters degree, everyone asked what was next. After all, I just finished a three-year graduate program in a year and a half, landed a job at the top company in the industry, and spent months attending classes to convert to a new religion. Every hour of every day was filled with… something substantial.

My response when people asked: “I’m going to run a marathon.”

So…that never happened.

Soon after, I was engaged and planning a wedding. My career was booming with new opportunities (and LOTS of hours). Then there were issues with my parents health and they needed help. Then Ethan was born. Then, then, then.

There have been a lot of “thens” in the last dozen years.

Still, I never lost the “dream” of running a marathon, which is strange because I’ve never run a mile in my life – except when FORCED to run by angry, mean gym teachers in elementary, middle and high school. And then I HATED it.

I can totally picture myself running, but I’ve just never DONE it. I can see myself RUNNING a marathon, but I didn’t know where to start. I’ve even DREAMT about it. Several times through the years, I’ve researched training plans and upcoming races, but nothing.

A few weeks ago, I was hanging out with some of my mom friends (moms of Ethan’s classmates) and several of them were making plans to train to run in a half marathon in May. I told them that I always wanted to run, but I’ve never done it. (Another friend told me a few months ago that I needed to commit to a race – that was the only way I was actually going to run. This was my chance.)

Another mom quickly jumped in. If I would commit, she would to. And because this mom lives literally down the street, we could train together. She, too, has never run but is interested.

One of the moms has taken us under her wing. She’s sent us a training program to get started. Between now and mid-January, I’ve set a goal to run a certain distance so I can begin part two of my training, working up to the half-marathon in May.

This mom friend is also taking my new running partner and me shopping tomorrow for appropriate shoes and running bras and other stuff we need to do this the right way. I don’t even know what to WEAR to run! I mean, can I wear my comfy yoga pants, a tee-shirt and sweatshirt? Do I need special clothes made of space-age materials to whisk away the sweat and stuff? I just don’t know.

Training in Wisconsin during the winter will suck, but I want to do this. I feel like I NEED to do this.

I can’t just keep dreaming. I need to DO.

Unread emails

Looking at my iPhone last night, I had 143 unread emails. It was too much. Three personal email accounts and WAY too many unopened, unread, or just old and no longer relevant emails. So, I decided to clean out my inboxes, and I found myself laughing at what I found – and how much I could unsubscribe from or just delete.

  • Getting Pregnant Newsletter: huh, probably not an issue since I’m missing ONE KEY INGREDIENT to that recipe. A newsletter, no matter what kind of helpful advice it contains, is probably not going to overcome the lack-of-sperm issue. Also, definitely not the time for a new baby…
  • All the STL-specific newsletters: yep, haven’t lived in St. Louis for about a year now, and I’m certainly not driving six hours to use a coupon, so it’s probably safe to unsubscribe to the local deals emails, the local Freecycle emails, local kids resale shop emails, local restaurant specials emails, etc.
  • Shopping/flash sale emails for sites I’ve never actually purchased things from: I don’t even remember why I signed up for these. Somehow I’ve ended up with emails from about a dozen of these sites. I could spend hours looking at the sales (i.e., G1lt or F@b) but I never do. And when I do have a moment to look, there’s absolutely nothing 1) in the size/color/pattern I need, or 2) I would spend money on (i.e., UGLY or completely impractical – like $65 (45% off!!) faux fur boots for my toddler. Really?!?).
  • Social media updates: I’m on my social media networks daily, so I don’t need updates telling me that so-and-so updated his Facebook status or that there are 83 new discussions in a LinkedIn group (an LI professional group that I signed up for , but probably never actually visited). Guarantee I’ll see the updates I want to see, so auto-notifications are now adjusted.
  • School updates from Ethan’s kindergarten year: if I missed the Christmas play or didn’t bring snacks for a teacher appreciation day, it was probably because I didn’t open the email. Kind of late now, right?
  • Mike’s resume and cover letter: doubt he’s looking for a job right now. Besides, I don’t think he took my advice on the last round of edits I sent.

I’m down to a manageable 23 unread emails today. That seems reasonable, but much less amusing.

Halloween

Happy Halloween from the cutest Harry P and Hedwig ever! (Thank goodness we trick or treated on Sunday – the weather is cold and windy today!)

Harry and Hedwig, trick or treat!

Hot peppers and saying goodbye

When Mike and I started dating, it was a big deal with his family because he hadn’t brought a girl home before. It was a REALLY big deal when I was asked to go to a family function at his grandparents’ house.

Of course, I was warned about “things” in advance. Things like women did not eat with the “men-folk” and women stayed in the house, preferably the kitchen, all day. Women served the men first, who eat in order of seniority/age with the elder men sitting down first. Then, the women served the kids. THEN, the women got to eat the meal. After everything was picked over and cold (no microwave). Whatever was left was okay for women to eat – EVEN THOUGH THE WOMEN WERE THE ONES WHO MADE THE MEAL.

I was warned because Mike knew this wasn’t going to fly with me. Turns out, there was nothing to be worried about.

Within minutes of our arrival, Mike’s grandpa wanted to show me his garden. We walked to the back yard and I was extremely polite. I ooh’d and aah’d over his vegetables. Then he walked down a narrow path, bent down, picked something, and came back toward me.

“Try this, girl,” he said. (Every female in the family was “girl,” and I doubt he actually KNEW any of the women’s names.)

“Sure,” I replied, taking a green pepper from his hand and biting three-quarters of it. I chewed it, swallowing whole as much as possible.

Thank goodness I was wearing dark sunglasses. My eyes were watering. My mouth was on fire. But I’d be damned if I’d let him see that.

“Well,” I said. “It’s a little warm, but do you have anything HOT?”

Mike grabbed the pepper from my hand and took a bite. He ran into the house screaming, mouth on fire, for a glass of milk. When he came back with a drink for me, I refused and held my eye contact (from behind my sunglasses) with his grandpa.

Mike’s grandpa clasped his hands, did a bit of a jig, and kind of giggled. He was absolutely tickled.

From that moment on, I had a name – in fact, I was the only woman referred to by my first name, and not called “girl.” I was also invited to eat WITH him IN THE GARAGE. It was monumental for the family. Not everyone was pleased.

For the next 15 years, Mike’s grandpa would ask me about peppers, give me a huge hug, and call me by my first name. I was also the only woman invited to eat in the garage and watch wrestling (“wraslin’”) with him.

I don’t know why I decided to google his name today. He was near 90 years old and I don’t believe he had ever been on the Internet, let alone have an online presence. I typed his name into the search engine and …

Up came his obituary.

He died on September 20. Ethan and Lauren are mentioned in the obit as his great grandkids. Mike is mentioned as a family member who died before him. There is no reference to peppers (not that there should be).

No one called to tell me he passed. Of course, I don’t have a relationship with his family, but I honestly thought his parents would call when Mike’s grandpa died. I even mentioned this to my mom a few weeks ago, that I thought Mike’s parents would reach out when his grandpa died. I told my mom that I’d send a pepper plant to his funeral service.

But, I didn’t know he had already died.

God bless you, Charles. I guess I’ll let you know now that the pepper was the hottest damn thing I ever tasted. But, you probably already knew that. Thanks for referring me by my name and letting me dine with you in the garage at family functions. I have very good memories of you. XOXO

Musical Flashback: Silly Little Love Songs

Driving to Target today, the Paul McCartney / Wings song “Silly Little Love Songs” shuffled to the speakers from my iPhone.

It was the song Mike would sing after Lauren was born. I remember him singing it (accompanied by Ethan) to Lauren while I was giving her a bath. Night after night, for months.

They sang it dramatically. They sang it humorously. They sang it seriously. They sang it together to Lauren. It became a nightly ritual.

It was just about the time I realized Mike had a drinking problem. Still, it’s a happy memory because Mike seemed (somewhat) in control. He was still (somewhat) involved with the kids at that point.

The song would make Lauren smile and giggle. It made Ethan happy. It brought a sense of “things will be okay” to me.

Mike stopped singing the song around Christmas 2010. I don’t think I’ve heard it since.

I listened to it today, and it made me feel nostalgic. I didn’t cry but felt a sense of peace. Someday I will play the song for Ethan and ask if he remembers. Someday I will play it for Lauren and tell her that her daddy used to sing it to her when she was a baby. I hope they remember.