EWF

For the past few weeks I have been working hard on my training for the upcoming Komen 3 Day in Washington DC.  I thought it was the least I could do, since many of you have so graciously stepped up and taken care of most of my fundraising (only $80 to go!!)  My sister has spurred me on from afar - we are training "together" through our shared training log on Google.  4 days a week I am walking, 2 days cross training, with one day of rest. 

At least that's the ideal schedule. 

And except for a random week or few days here and there, we have been fairly true to it.  Some of my crosstraining has been on the elliptical but more and more I am opting to go to yoga classes.  For anyone who scoffs at the idea of yoga as "training" - let me tell you how completely soaked in sweat this uncoordinated body gets during even a short forms ashtanga or a basic class!

I feel great!

Or at least I felt great.  A couple of weeks ago I started having random pains down my right outer calf, shooting from my knee.  The knee itself seemed okay.  And it was mostly while driving, so I blamed it on my shoes and usually kicked them off to seek relief.  As days went by, it increased, nagging me at night and other times when I was at rest.  Ironically, activity brought relief.  I had almost no pain, other than some initial stiffness at the start, when walking, using the elliptical or performing yoga.

This week the pain got more intense until yesterday when I looked down and noticed I had this weird concave spot on my knee.  Naturally I completely freaked out.  Cancelled my yoga class reservation, came straight home to the couch to ice and raise my knee.  Then called my good friend and doctor (poor man) who always gets our random calls and certainly must believe us to be complete hypochondriacs.  He invited us over so he could take a look.

The diagnosis?

EWF

Exercising While Fat.  Yep.  That's it.  My poor knee isn't used to this much regular and consistent level of training and is rebelling. 

The cure, though, is to get some of this weight off of it so it's not such a strain.  So it's back to training I go.  Carefully and with plenty of rest and ice in between.  Oh, and naproxen (Aleve)?  My new best friend!


P.S.  I think I need to copyright EWF because I doubt I'm alone.  European Weightlifting Federation be damned!

P.P.S.  No, my doctor did not actually state that in his diagnosis - that's my own synopsis of it!

Reminds me of a story

Thanks for all the encouragement in light of my "despair" (ok, potential lameness) of the last post!  Your kind words and fresh ideas re-inspired me.

My favorite by far, however, was from my friend Colleen.  Um, duh - pen and paper Kim.  She didn't quite say it like that, but she probably should have!!!

Reminds me of one of my favorite stories of all time.

Once upon a time, long ago (let's say 17 or 18 years, shall we?) John and I were invited to spend some time with John's best man (and my good friend) Eric at his delightful parents' cottage in Paradise, Michigan.  (Actually, I meant his parents are delightful.  However, I remember the cottage as a pretty great getaway as well!)

We stayed, we saw, we hiked, we played, we ate (of course), we tried out Mr. Smith's newly hooked up shower (individually, thank you). 

Ultimately, at some point we were lazing around on bunks, chairs, etc.  I was reading.  I distinctly remember Eric yawning and saying, "I wish I brought my laptop, I'd really like to play some solitaire."

At which point I very exaggeratedly rolled my eyes and pointed to the two decks of playing cards on the table.  I remember thinking very haughtily, "I'll never be that dependent on technology."

So, I take Colleen's response as a very good-natured eye roll which I very much deserved.  And, since I'm not going to buy a new laptop at this time, perhaps I will splurge on a very nice notebook and fancy pen!  Let the writing roll on!

Oh laptop, why have you forsaken me?

Just when I started feeling truly motivated.....  And I'm finally starting to deliver (hey, I definitely consider 3 posts in one week DELIVERING!).  This more consistent posting was inspiring me to consider bringing fewer books up north and spending a couple of hours each day working on my novel.

And then..........

My laptop crashed!

It has since been revived, but it is clearly on life support.  My WONDERFUL tech guy admonished - "if you have anything on there you want to keep, you'd better back it up soon!"  Ouch.

See?  So this is where I get sidelined.  In addition to stretching my writing muscles by actually writing, I've been furiously reading books on getting published, writing chick lit, etc.  I am SO ready.  And now this.

Am I tempted to go on the Dell website and order myself a new laptop?  Um, yes, and apparently it could be delivered effective 7/22.  I found this out after building the whole thing and then aborting in a panic.

Am I also tempted to just save my current progress on the book, back it up and put my head in the sand and resign myself to passive reading for a full seven days?  Yes, definitely I am.  In an effort to persevere, I am considering writing on the crippled laptop anyway.  But what happens if it crashes and I lose all my new work?  Argh!  Decisions. 

Sadly, my budget dares not accommodate the former, even with my awesome educator's discount and wicked payment plan.  Therefore, it's on my plate to either give in to or resist the latter.  I hate being a grown up sometimes.

What's a girl to do!?!

Fan - addict

By now I'm sure I have complained/whined/moaned in more posts than not about my terribly hectic schedule when it comes to the kids' sports and activities.  If I counted the hours spent driving and dropping to practices and attending various sporting events for three children, it would come pretty close to the number of hours I spend weekly on the job.  I'm certain it would exceed the number of hours a week I sleep!

Want to know a secret?  For the most part, at least when it comes to actually being able to watch the sports....

I LOVE IT!

No matter how much I complain.  No matter which sport.  No matter which kid.  Really!  I do.  I love it.

Last night it was a softball double header - the playoffs.  It was my oldest's first game back after torn ligaments in her ankle.  Of course it had to be playoffs, because who comes back to boring old regular games????  My daughter's team lost both games.  Both games were totally within their power to win.  Both teams we faced we had beaten at least once before.  My daughter played, in her words, "okay".  In my opinion, perfectly fine for a first game back.  But not as good as she would have liked to play at the end of a season in an important game, had the summer gone differently for her physically.  Oh, and did I mention?  The games were in Armada - over an hour drive and mostly on back roads.

This should have been a recipe for dread and disaster, right?  Wrong.  Still loved it.  I enjoyed every pitch, every hit, every strikeout, every play, every error.  I enjoyed the comeradery of the parents in "soccer" chairs, the chatter spilling over from the bench.  I can't say I enjoyed overhearing the coach's frustration at some slower timing and a little bit of bobbling on my daughter's part, but - hey - it's part of the game.  And she will learn more hearing it from him than from me, that's for sure!  It allows me to fully be the "cheerleader", as one of her past coaches once said, and know that she will learn what she needs to do next time.

Today it was a 2 1/2 hour swim meet.  Only one of my kids (the youngest) swam today due to a last minute "injury" to my son.  And she was only in two events.  So, I was basically there to watch about 45 seconds of swimming.  This drives my poor mother crazy.  I think she has made it to two of the kids' meets over the past 6 years because she simply cannot understand why on earth sane people would agree to spend 2, 3, 4 hours to watch their kids for mere minutes or even seconds.  In response to my scolding that she easily spent 3-4 hours a day at the hockey rink with my brother, her response is "Yes, but that was for a game that lasted an hour and a half."  She has a point. 

But it doesn't matter - I still loved it.  Swim meets have a special energy.  Particularly home swim meets in the summer.  A big picnic is organized for the swimmers and their families for after the meet that is pizza and potluck.  Smaller splinter picnics crop up around throughout the meet, connecting parents.  We rush up to the fence every so often for our few seconds of spectatorship, cheer loudly and then high five our kids and collect their ribbons for safe keeping.  Good times.  In those few seconds of spectatorship is a thrill, a high if you will.  Watching my kids executing strokes that I myself flail through is truly fun to me.  They are not always perfect in their execution, far from it.  But every meet shows their improvement and maturity.  Have I mentioned, I love it?

I'm too tired now and this entry is too long to start in on volleyball.  And soccer.  And football.  And hockey.  And baseball.  Right now my kids only play the first two.  But I'll watch them all.  And no matter how long the drive, how hot/cold/wet/windy the conditions, how tired I am, how brief my kids' appearance -- I guarantee I'm loving it!

What a Difference 6 Months Makes

I amused myself by going back and reading my past blog posts this evening.  I'm mortified by the time lapses.  Not the sign of a dedicated and successful writer, that's for sure!  Does that mean my experiment failed?

Well, no matter, I'm back again.  As I look back to my last post, over 6 months ago, it amazes me what a shift our family life has taken.  In December 2009 I was caught up between middle school drama and elementary delight.  My kids were just that --- kids --- for all my comments about the teen and preteen.

Fast forward six months and our house feels very different.  The 8 year old is the sole remaining elementary kid.  Someone said to me the other day, "THIS is the baby?"  Yes, this is my baby - eagerly looking forward to being more independent and walking home with her friends instead of her brother (with strict orders not to put on the Clexton Show).

My son is most definitely a Tween now.  On the verge of middle school he is in that quagmire where his emotions and his hormones run from young man to little boy and it's often hard to keep up.  My running worry is that one of us is not going to make it to his 12th birthday.  Odds are even right now as to who that "one" is going to be!

Probably most dramatically different is my 14 year old.  For all that we have called her 13 going on 40 and so on, she was really still just a mature child until just recently.  Suddenly, she is a young woman.  Until an ankle injury sidelined her, her summer plans were consumed with readying herself for high school sports through camps.  Her humor is quite adult, her observations are witty and sarcastic, her eyes seem to see and understand more.

It doesn't help that I came across pictures like the one below, taken when I was right around her age.  And it brings back memories of what I was up to at that age.  Lord, have mercy!

Just the other day I watched her to climb into a car of kids, with a seventeen year old at the wheel.  It really startled me and stayed with me all day.  Thankfully, this occurred at 6:45am and the drive was to be roughly six blocks, so I knew the potential for shenanigans was minimal.

It took me a few days, but I have made my peace with that moment.  Just in time came the following tidbit to knock me off my feet:

"Mom, you know I'm eligible to start driver's training in February, right?"

Ouch.