Live, Love, Run...Part 2

I wake up at 5:45am, then 5:54am, then again at 6:03am. I am beginning to see what my kids mean about my alarm. I am getting on my own nerves. Get up girl!! Quit with the snooze button already! Get the fuzzies out of your brain and remember what today is. It. Is. Race. Day!!! You have been working towards this since May:  My first official 5k.

My brain is awake now thinking even if the rest of me is still resisting getting out of this comfy bed.  I know I won't finish first unless by some miracle my feet grow wings and a 5 minute/mile average happens. But I don't want to finish last either. Middle of the pack seems okay to me. But I do have to get out of bed first. 

Checking out the pin job. Smile. Look confident!

I smile and now wide awake, I bound out of bed; I can't tell if my heart is beating faster because I'm feeling happy or nervous. Probably both. I had my clothes laid out last evening and my racing bib ready to pin on. The perfectionist in me wants to pin and re-pin until I get it on perfectly straight. I tilt my head. Hmmm...maybe it is just me who is crooked.

Okay, pinned...✔...now move on...what's next? Water. Drink 16 oz now so that all the inevitable pit-stops happen before the race and not during. Fickle bladder anyhow. Of course, that could potentially make me run faster; is that why there are porta-potties positioned close to the finish line?
Dressed...✔
Water...✔
Hair...ponytail or just do a headband? I'll be different. Just a headband...✔
On to the Breakfast of Champions: an English muffin with butter and strawberry jam and fruit. And one bite of scrambled eggs for good measure. I'll skip the coffee (shocking, I know!). If water causes pit-stops,  coffee causes pit-stops x2. Or #2. Okay, TMI. Nope, skipping the coffee.

This whole race thing is new to me and I have no idea what the proper etiquette is sometimes never. I'm a little unsure of having my number pinned on already. I look too eager (but I am eager!). I look like a newbie (uh, I am a newbie). I wore a cardigan to breakfast, you know, to not stand out in the crowd of the two other people eating breakfast. Breakfast...✔.

We set off to the Coliseum up the road as I still need to figure out where Corral #3 is and I want to walk a bit and stretch. I've avoided serious injury to myself so far and I would really like that trend to continue; I've had enough physical therapy this year. I get out of the car and I'm feeling a little more nervous and unsure. I can see it in the pictures my husband is happy to snap on his phone to commemorate this occasion. I see the hesitant smile and the shoulders and head not quite held high. I kind of want to melt into the crowd in Corral #3 as we await 0800 and the blast of the starting horn.

Early to arrive, trying to muster confidence before the Corrals fill with racers.

Can I outrun the baby strollers? Now I am nervous

0800: Corral #1 is off and running and the word cheetah comes to mind. Not quite my speed. Corral #2 is let loose with a cheer from the crowd and then my Corral steps into place. I have some music playing in my ears with a good tempo but I still hear the air horn and WE ARE OFF!

Honestly, I have never been able to run the entire 3.1 miles without a few walk breaks or stopping to grab a drink of water (me running + drinking at the same time = choking and sputtering) I was hoping today would be the day I'd be able to do it. The challenge to myself was on! I thought of this as I ran and so many other things. I recognized that there was a certain energy present that you just can't get when you run alone and it was amazing! I thought the amount of people running would be intimidating, but it was those people that made it ridiculously fun. I loved the variety of ages and all the different outfits, some crazy and colorful and others more traditional. I'd never really seen running skirts before but I'm thinking of sewing up some to wear with my leggings. Fun!! Everyone was so happy to be here, myself included. Well, maybe not the one guy at the finish line throwing up in the garbage can, but other than that...

5(k) Lessons Learned:
1.) Running a 5k is fun. Simple but true, at least for me. Note, I didn't say easy, because it hasn't been easy when my ankles hurt, my knee hurt, my thigh hurt, my foot hurt (not all at the same time thank God!), and I felt like I'd never ever get the hang of breathing. There were times I really thought I must be a little insane to be starting to run after all these years.

2.) Perseverance pays off. The point in the race that I most wanted to just slow down and walk was the last leg of it. I could see the finish line off to my left, but before I could get there I had to make a large loop through part of the parking lot. It looked way too long and felt like way too much at that point and I did think about stopping for a wee break. Then, determination kicked in and I pushed myself to do it.

Determination!!

3.) Strive to be as confident as you are after a race, before the race begins. I liked looking at the before and after pictures. What a difference! Head up, shoulders back and smile!!

4.) It is okay to feel proud of an accomplishment, really it is! When all the work put into something (running or whatever it is for you) pays off, go ahead and feel awesome!

 

Crossing the Finish Line and I'm looking to see if I can see my favorite cheerleader Leo

5.) I'm still learning and growing. I don't always have great running times. I still have times that I look and sound like I need oxygen. I will probably always look a little funny when I run. Having a goal to work towards is inspiring. I like to keep looking ahead to what's next. Onward and Upward always, in running, in my career, with my family, with my dreams.

Love,
Dianne

P.S. Looking forward to the next one! November 5th in Columbus for the Hot Chocolate 5k with Adrienne by my side. 

Live Love Run...(Part 1)

Friday October 6, 2017 around 8:00am

Early morning sunshine filtering through gauzy white curtains woke me up. I sat up just enough to look out the window to see a fine haze floating just above the ground, tangoing with the grass and Queen Anne's Lace past her prime. Coffee, let's go walk for coffee.

Warmer outside than I had anticipated for October, I thought about shedding the blue cardigan as I walked up our lane to the Dawdy Haus. A Benedict Latte, a coffee concoction of toasted marshmallow and caramel, was what I had anticipated more than the warmth on my skin. Even better in some ways than the sunshine or the coffee was the conversation with the barista behind the counter. We talked about goals, God's plan for each of us, and dreams that sometimes seem too big to be reality and other times are in our reach if we just attempt to reach out.

Like running in a 5k. In an official 5k. With people and not just me by myself.

And just like that, the morning was passing and Leo and I hopped in the vehicle and we were off to Hampton, Virginia for our 29th wedding anniversary and The Crawlin' Crab 5k.

 11:10am--The road continues before us and my coffee cup is long empty. We are listening to "The War Room" on CD as we drive. No need for words, just companionship as we keep on moving.

1:30pm--Bathroom. I need a bathroom. Now. And now that there is a department store in sight, it's even worse. Hold it, hold it, hold it....JUST PARK THE CAR ALREADY!!

1:38pm--Since we are in a store, let's shop for some shoes and clothes for Leo. I am reminded again that shopping is an exercise in how we are different from each other and in the end, it doesn't really matter. Let's start with shoes...he owns two pairs of what used-to-be dress shoes. One brown pair, one black pair. Both are worn to the point of no return. I, on the other hand foot, own multiple pairs in a variety of styles and colors. We browsed a bit and I picked out a few pairs that I liked and he was agreeable with one of those. We ended up with 0 pairs.

1:56pm--Onward to the men's clothing section. I like a v-neck t-shirt for him; he prefers crew. I like a little more fitted; he likes loose. There was a pair of jeans in a shade of mustard brown. I urged him to "just try them on". He resisted. I urged again, batting my eyelashes at him alluringly. He hung them back on the rack. I really need to work on that eyelash thing. We ended up with two crew neck t-shirts. I didn't need anything but I got a sports bra and two summer clearance shirts. Yeah, I like clothes. Leo wears clothes. I like a variety that evolves with the seasons and my mood. Leo will wear something for years until it literally wears out or becomes "barn-wear".

You know, he's really okay with me taking most of the closet and dresser space. He doesn't complain that I own shoes as varied as my wardrobe. And he lets me plan an overnight getaway to Hampton, VA so I can run in a 5k on our anniversary weekend. He supports me in doing something that I love and because I love him, I offered that we go visit some beef farms after the race. I know Leo doesn't enjoy running or working out, but he loves that I love it. He knows that I'm not necessarily the "typical farm wife" and I don't always understand the drive to keep farming, but I love that he loves it.

We don't always see eye-to-eye and we don't usually have the same taste in books or movies. We approach issues with our children differently. I like to browse and he likes to get what he needs and be done. We are different, but well-matched. Like a t-shirt and a flannel shirt. Two different types of shirts, but when layered...what an outfit!

4:35pm--We made it to our destination. We both agree that the route that looked the easiest, is the most annoyingly slow interstate ever. Kind of like life in a way. What looks easy, may not be the best route. Sometimes it's the scenic routes that make it worth it. 29 years of worth it. Leo, I'm looking forward to the next road we travel: may it be scenic, with even a few potholes to keep in interesting.

11:20pm--Tomorrow is going to get here too quick and not quick enough! I'm excited and nervous...

 Here's to Living and Loving with Leo (and maybe someday I'll convince him to run...muwahahaha)!

With love and anticipation for what lies ahead,
Dianne

To Heather, With Love

Friday September 15, 2017:  
My phone rings and on the display it shows up as "My Baby Girl".  While my head knows that Heather is 18 years old, my heart wants to argue. My eyes see her cleaning her room, folding favorite cardigans and jeans into suitcases, and returning miscellaneous clothing to me that she has borrowed. My hands think that I should still be cleaning her room and folding her laundry.

Yes, the logical side of me sees and recognizes the obvious. My baby girl is now a young adult and she is heading though that door tomorrow into the next phase of her life. My heart still wants to argue a little, but not too much because I really love seeing the woman that Heather has become.

Heather was always my attached-at-the-hip baby and toddler. I called her my high-maintenance baby but secretly, I think I kind of liked it. Maybe not every day, and maybe not at that time, but in looking back, those times are cherished.

When she was almost three years old, she suddenly burst out of her baby girl chrysalis and became my independent, determined, social little butterfly girl. She was not afraid to go after what she wanted, whether it was learning to ride a bike or a horse, dancing in her first pair of ballet shoes, composing a salutatorian speech, or deciding on a future career path.

Remember that Mother Goose poem about the little girl with the curl? When she was good, she was very good, and when she was bad, she was horrid? That could be Heather. She could be stubborn, she could be defiant and had a few conversations with the wooden spoon. This picture of her is one of my favorites because it captured this moment of complete irritation towards someone or something. But for Heather, this look could be transformed into a cheeky grin or belly laugh in the next minute. She was my little tornado; all storm one second and then calmness in the next breath.
 On this last evening before college, instead of hearing girls giggling over an episode of I Love Raymond, I am hearing loud shrieks of laughter, groans of defeat and all manner of sounds in-between as Heather and Ryan play Mario Cart.  How long will it be until I hear these words again, "Mom, we aren't fighting. We're just playing."  These two kiddos of mine....they love to pick on each other even when they know it makes me crazy. And yet, to them, it's their way of showing love.

Yeah, I don't get it either...

...but I'm missing it already.



















Saturday September 16, 2017:  Today is the day. Heather was packed up and ready last evening. She could have driven out by herself and been totally fine, but this was one of those attached-at-the-hip moments and I was thankful for one more trip together. And the two of us, we just get each other; there was no need for deep conversation and the long silences were completely comfortable. We are alike so often in our moods and we know when to give each other space and when we need to reach out.

Sometimes those comfortable silences where punctuated by crazy laughter by the elder party. I like capturing Heather in moments of surprise. She does not enjoy this in the same way and I promised not to put any of those pictures here. But believe me, there were some funny ones!! 

And after about 4 hours and 15 min, we arrived and somebody wanted to change her mind about the whole thing. It wasn't me.  By the time I peeled her clenched fingers off the steering wheel, she'd already changed her mind. (Remember, she's like a tornado sometimes with those moods!)

 There she goes into the dorm and there she is after unpacking and getting settled in. She really will be fine. I'm so proud of her. And yes, I may be wiping a tear away or two. And just like that, we are down to one child at home.

I haven't been outnumbered in this house before. I've always had at least one girl to go to when I needed a shoe opinion or an outfit idea. And when I was PMSing, I always had at least one other person in my corner. Now, so much testosterone. Who am I going to go to my annual Celtic Thunder concert with? Heather has been my steady companion the last couple of years.

Dear Heather,

I love you. Let me start with that because no matter what, always and forever, I love you. When you were a whirlwind of temper, I loved you. When you were a confidently tap dancing to "I've been working on the Railroad", I loved you. When you had a bad haircut (even though I thought it was totally adorable and you weren't a coconut head), I loved you. When you bit Adrienne on the butt even though you were old enough to know better, and then tried to avoid the inevitable punishment, I loved you. When you had a stressful day at school and felt overwhelmed by it all, I loved you. I loved seeing you at work, serving people amazing coffee creations, always with a smile. I loved seeing you a little shaken pulling into Rosedale, but then gathering your courage and jumping in with your shoulders back and head held high.

Heather, you will always be My Baby Girl and I will love you always to the moon and beyond and back. Keep dancing through life. XOXOXO

Love,
Mama aka Dianne

On Baltimore Street

Sitting on a cheerful green bench in downtown Cumberland, Maryland yesterday morning while Ryan was at play practice for an upcoming performance was a most pleasant way to fritter away a few hours. I don't come to Cumberland often and this week, with three practices, I decided that I am rather in love with this street known as Baltimore Street. With brick-paved streets lined with historic buildings and accented with an abundance of trees, shrubs and splashed with color as the day-lilies, petunias, and roses bloom, what's not to love? This is not a street to drive upon, but a street meant for meandering, with stops along the way to peer into shop windows with summer-clad mannequins, a plethora of antiques, and original artwork.
 

Cafe Mark and Jennifer's Desserts beckons with a myriad of signature latte flavors. German Chocolate Latte? Why, yes I will, thank you very much! Caramello Latte? Sure, why not? I stroll. I sip. I savor the coffee and the sights around me. Buildings from another era stand proud: an Art Deco theatre with a facade that makes you think of marble, and many brick buildings of Italianate, Beau Arts, Romanesque, and Georgian Revival styling in shades of burgundy, burnt orange, rust and yellow that house investment firms, art studios, jewelers, insurance and financial services, collectibles stores, a pawn shop, a music store, restaurants with outdoor seating areas, and The School of Hospitality Management and Culinary Arts.

I may even admit to people watching. There are women in yoga pants with earbuds in place as they go up the avenue. They keep pace with the business women with suits and heels that make a staccato rhythm on the bricks as they step out into the sunshine to grab a bite to eat from City Lights or maybe the Cafe. Some have slipped on running shoes that completely mismatch their business attire and yet looks completely normal as they take a quick stroll up and then back down the street before heading back to work. There is a man with jeans worn-out to a comfortable softness and a t-shirt moving a variety of items in and out of The Embassy, and yet another gentleman with biker's gear and a racing jersey headed to the C&O trail-head. A barefoot, gray-haired man in a motorized chair zips by and he tosses a cigarette. A man with a group of other suit-clad men looks down at the cigarette before returning to his conversation and lunch at the Baltimore Street Grill.



A nearby fountain is shooting plumes of water into the air and if the breeze picks up just enough, a fine spray cools sun-heated skin. I wish for an excuse to dip my hands and then my feet into the fountain. Up the street a little farther is an assortment of vegetable and flower plants and some look like they wish they could dip into the fountain too. I stop and make of few selections and soon a variegated sage with purply veined leaves, a green bell pepper plant and another pepper plant (boasting to be both hot and sweet) are in my possession.
 
Occasionally the city quiet, which isn't technically quiet at all, is punctuated with an exclamation point as sirens wail and fire trucks head towards I-68 from the nearby fire station. Traffic is a constant hum with only a brief comma pause in the seconds between lights changing simultaneously from yellow to red and red to green. A few seconds to take a breath before forging ahead.

As a girl growing up in rural western Maryland in the 1970's, going to the big city of Cumberland was an adventure and a treat. School shopping and Christmas shopping meant a road trip on Route 40 and then later, Rt 48 (and eventually I-68). I always felt a little like Laura Ingalls Wilder when they would load up into their wagon and go to town from their home in the Big Woods.  Shopping at Hills, Ames or Murphy's was on the agenda and we'd walk out with notebook paper, folders, pencils, a new book-bag, and new socks and underwear. We'd stop at Goldsmith Black Inc and Mom would pick something from their selection with points she had earned. (I thought this store was boring!). At least that's how I remember it.

Being on this street makes me nostalgic. It reminds me to slow down and take some time to read, to write, to walk slowly and take in my surroundings, to smile and say "Hello" to a passing stranger. It reminds me to take a breath before forging ahead.

Love,
Dianne

 

Jogging in Jeans

I have never been a graceful runner. I kinda thought I was, that is, until I was running a 50 yard dash in middle school for the Presidential Physical Fitness Award and somebody made fun of my leg and how it would kick out to the side as I dashed. After that, I was always self-conscious and never went out of my way to run. Well, there was a time at a family reunion baseball game and I was sporting a post-baby, just-finished-weaning-a-baby-from-breastfeeding body. The video which was viewed later was not one of my finer moments and cemented in my mind why I should not be a runner.

Ba-boom-ba, ba-boom-ba comes to mind.

So, two evenings ago I decided to go for a walk and as I walked, I decided to challenge myself to see just how fast I could do one mile. I decided that if I did a combination of fast walking and some running, I could improve my time. Ready....set.....go.....

Initially my plan was to run only when there were no cars coming because of my funny running gait with the side leg kick thing that I assume I still do but haven't really checked, but all the stopping and starting was messing with my time and seriously, was there more traffic than usual?!? And, apparently I should have thought through my plan and dressed accordingly. Jeans and a regular looking t-shirt aren't "running gear". You'll understand shortly.

Backing up my story a little, let me tell you what my left leg was like when I was born. I don't think it was technically a clubfoot, at least not how I think of them, but it was more just really turned inwards. I wore a brace at night until I was at least 6 years old. It had a shoe on the bottom and my dad cut the toe end off because it got too small. I'd like to think this is why I run "funny", but I actually think I just simply run funny.

I may have heard once of twice: "You run like a girl." Which is okay, because I am a girl and I know a lot of girls who run AWESOME!!

                                 I know, adorable! But here you can see my foot rotated inwardly.                             I liked cake then. I still like cake. This is why I should be running. 

Okay, that's my little backstory.  Now, why shouldn't I wear jeans and a t-shirt to jog in? Well, just as I was bouncing along at a decent pace, deciding that I didn't care who saw me and I was just going to fly like the wind, I hear a car approach from behind. It slowed down and as there was no other traffic, no other reason to stop, I knew I was the reason. 

A concerned woman rolled down her window and asked, "Is everything okay? Do you need help?"
 I replied, in a somewhat breathless voice that I tried to make sound normal, " Umm, no, I'm just out for a walk and decided to run a bit."  To this, she smiled a little and gave me a thumbs up before going on her way. 

Oh dear. Do I really look like a panic-stricken woman running to get help when I jog?? Maybe this just means:
1.)  I was going fast (wishful thinking) like I was truly getting help.
2.) She saw smoke in the distance and thought I was running for help for real despite the cell phone in my hand that could've just dialed 911.
3.) Maybe she thought I literally needed help, like I needed oxygen.
4.) Or it was the oddness of jogging in jeans. 

I'd go with number 4. 

I'm headed out again for a walk, maybe run. If you see me, just wave and smile. I'll be the one in colorful flowered leggings and a t-shirt.

Love,
Dianne

Fit Phenomenon

 Being fit.
             Physically fit.
                          Mentally fit.
                                      Spiritually fit.

Fit. This is one of those words that gets weird the more you write it, but lately it has been simmering in my mind quite often. At Oak Dale Church, we are doing a sermon series "Get Fit" and I suspect this has something to do with this Fit Phenomenon in my brain. (Go to http://oakdalechurch.net/ for more info and video links to sermons).

 Having shoulder surgery is possibly another reason I am thinking about being fit. I learned really quickly that "if you don't use it, you lose it". When simple isometric exercises where introduced into my physical therapy regimen, I seriously thought I had done serious damage to my arm. I was fit to be tied (haha) and so worried I had messed up the surgical repair. My thoughts sounded a little like this:  "Oh nooooooo! I'll be in this crazy sling contraption even longer! But wait...they added some exercises. Really simple exercises. Do you think maybe...? No. I am NOT that out of shape! Or am I? It has only been like, what...three weeks, but could that make my muscles hurt so badly??" 

It turns out that, yes, it was just my muscles relearning and that even though it hurt, I needed to keep on doing those exercises and increasing the number of reps and even adding more exercises. Fast forward about four more weeks and those same muscles that screamed in pain are now stronger, haven't hurt since that first week of doing the exercises, and I can lift a full coffee cup to my lips (victory in the sweetest sense). Another lesson for me here is that I need to follow instructions. When I try to push the boundaries, or I just simply do too much and my husband, a friend or one of my children ask, "Should you be doing that??", I know I need to rein it in so the healing can continue in a healthy way without my impeding the process with my impatience to have full function again. Kind of like life sometimes, eh?

One way I have counterbalanced my limitations with my shoulder is to get out and walk. I get bored easily when exercising and so I've tried to turn this into a time to pray, reflect and review verses that I'm trying to commit to memory. You want to talk about a spiritual workout? Try memorization. I discovered I am quite terrible at it, but it is like my arm and shoulder muscles: I haven't used that skill for a long time and it is out of shape. The other way I have made walking fun and also more of a challenge is to walk with a friend. Kelli and I have logged about 12 miles this week over three days and it was good. Good for my physically and great for me mentally. 

On one of the days that Kelli and I walked, we nearly had to walk home as my car, sweet old Scarlet, left us stranded. You see, Scarlet has run her race (that may or may not be an admission to speeding) and we have been waiting for this day to happen. Part of that may be because of a lack of regular maintenance on my part and that tells me something. It's easy when I start something new, or purchase something new, to keep up with it. But, as time passes, it is easy for me to get lazy or discouraged because I don't see the results I want. Then things fall apart. Kind of like life sometimes, eh?

Andy's outdoor workout zone

I want to challenge myself physically, mentally and spiritually. I met someone this week who has challenged me to set some goals and aim to go the distance. Andrew Yoder is a dynamic, passionate man who wants to help others to create, clarify and build a vision. Two hours spent talking to him and doing an adapted workout outdoors on a sunny day left me motivated and enlivened. Take some time and check out his website:  http://www.lionheartedcoaching.com/ or find him on Facebook Lionhearted Coaching.

FIT Lessons (or something akin to rambling) a la Dianne:

1.) Being physically fit requires movement. I know, that seems so obvious but sometimes I want results without having to do the work. It doesn't work that way. Ever. 

2.) Having a goal, a finish line in sight, is necessary. Gotta keep my eye on the prize and it doesn't matter if it's physical, mental or spiritual, but for me, I need to state my purpose and have a vision. 

3.) Following directions (and doctor's orders) is important. Guidelines keep me on course. This is a good thing as I tend to wander, in my thoughts, my Bible reading, and yes, in my physical exercise too. 

4.) In 1Thessalonians 5:12-24, there is a lot of final instructions that Paul passed on but the verse I want to remember is vs. 23: "Now may the God of peace himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it."

4.) Here's a bonus one for you. Not all sports bras are made equal. Try getting into one of these one-armed and you'll see what I mean. It is like an entire workout before the workout. And really, even with two good shoulders, it was sometimes a challenge. It gives new meaning to the phrase "fit to be tied".

And on that note, I gotta run. Not literally. I'm not a runner yet; walking is my thing. 

Love, 

Dianne

Final Instructions

12 Now we ask you, brothers and sisters, to acknowledge those who work hard among you, who care for you in the Lord and who admonish you.

13 Hold them in the highest regard in love because of their work. Live in peace with each other.

14 And we urge you, brothers and sisters, warn those who are idle and disruptive, encourage the disheartened, help the weak, be patient with everyone.

15 Make sure that nobody pays back wrong for wrong, but always strive to do what is good for each other and for everyone else.

16 Rejoice always,

17 pray continually,

18 give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.

19 Do not quench the Spirit.

20 Do not treat prophecies with contempt

21 but test them all; hold on to what is good,

22 reject every kind of evil.

23 May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through. May your whole spirit, soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.

24 The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do it.