My Thousand Mile Journey

It crossed my mind this time last year, but I didn’t want to set myself up for failure.  I knew the math should work, but life can be unpredictable.  So I set the idea aside and instead decided that in 2012 my goal for running was to simply enjoy it.  No pressure for PR’s (personal records), no distance calendars to follow, no ignoring warning signs of injury that might slow me down.  Instead, I would enjoy the moment, listen to my body, run fast when I wanted to, run slow when I wanted to, and use the time to digest my thoughts and let ideas percolate.

So I was caught a little off guard when I received the email from my RunKeeper app that I reached 1,000 miles this past year.  Wow.  In 1,000 miles I could have run to Eugene, Oregon...to Las Vegas- ONE AND A HALF TIMES...or to the Grand Canyon- AND BACK.  A thousand miles is a long way, with nothing but my own two feet, the discipline and will to move them, and some favorite music as a soundtrack to life.  


But I didn’t have to travel 1,000 miles away to have the experience of a lifetime. Some of those miles were in the pouring rain, some in extreme heat; most in total darkness, some in silvery moonlight, most at sunrise, and many at moonset.  There were hills that challenged and rewarded me.  There were times when I felt weightless and carried by the wind, and times when I felt like I was running backwards in molasses.  But most of the time I felt an indescribable inner peace.  I consciously tried to run with my senses, varying my path to experience different sights, sounds, smells and textures.  I saw raccoons, coyotes, bunnies and owls...and wildlife of another kind with a police chase, broken into cars, and the aftermath of recent accidents along my path (followed by a quick prayer of thanks that I wasn’t in that place at the wrong time).  I met new neighbors and made new friends.  And there isn’t a single run I can think of that I regret.  Not one.

In fact, to the contrary.  My memories of running those 1,000 miles are punctuated by the satisfaction of breaking a sweat in the freezing cold, from seeing the familiar comforts of smoke rising from a wood-burning chimney and the sweet smell of pancakes emanating from neighborhood homes; glorious sunrises that take my breath away and smiling moons that prompt me to smile back; the crunch of the gravel underfoot that reminds me that with every stride I move forward; shadows that accompany me and sunlight that shines ethereal rays of hope that light my path.  These are the moments that make it all worth it.  These are the moments that make 1,000 miles feel like a tremendous gift rather than a tedious chore.

And my gratitude for this significant reward is made sweeter by its unexpected timing.  I have a sense of satisfaction that is hard to calculate...so much so that I am positive that I would not have relished this achievement had I formally planned for it- I’d be too busy planning my next, bigger goal to celebrate.  It’s just my nature.  But not today.  Today I take a moment to reflect on my 1,000 mile journey, count my blessings, recognize my supportive family, and do a little happy dance while marveling at my thousand milestones.

And tomorrow I run again.

The Ironies of the Holidays

It’s true that Christmas is a magical holiday...but it’s also a stressful one. In an effort to balance the stress imposed by the holidays with providing the “magic” for the kids’ sake, I’m keeping a perspective on the ironies that create this state of holiday craziness.

** I spend 20 minutes circling for a parking space, trying to get in to the store. When I try to leave, I’m stuck in my parking space for another 10, blocked by a car who is stalking someone walking down the aisle. They won’t pull forward for fear that they will miss a parking opportunity and can’t back up because the person behind them has already “claimed” my spot with their signal.

** Forget gift wrapping- what about gift UNwrapping? I’m not interested in paying for gift wrapping when I buy something online, but I WOULD consider paying extra to ship the item in a plain box so that when UPS rings the doorbell and the kids rush the front door to see who it is, they are not witnessing their gifts being delivered.

** With winter weather in southern California (or lack thereof), our kids are forced to skate on synthetic (plastic) ice. To me, this epitomizes so much of what’s wrong with how we celebrate the holidays.

** Every time we make it a point to load up the kids for a fun family tour of Christmas lights, the minute we are stuck in a long line of cars, SOMEone is sure to announce they have to go to the bathroom and it CAN’T wait. Why is it that so many of our well-intentioned family outings become centered around finding bathrooms...?

** We teach our kids that this is the spirit of generosity...and then have them fill out a Christmas list with all the things they want. Next year my kids are making a Christmas list of things they plan to GIVE instead of what they want to RECEIVE.

** Christmas songs are less for entertainment and more for the purpose of reminding us of what we are celebrating and why. We need to sing more.

** With two weeks off of school, the phrase “winter break” takes on a different meaning for kids and parents.

** We go to great lengths to reinforce the importance of being “good” to our children (including honesty, right?)...and reward them with gifts left by a fictional character that we’ve propagated as being real.

** We teach our kids about stranger danger, encourage them not to talk to strangers and scare the daylights out of them about getting within reach of them...and yet this one time of year we force our kids to sit on a perfect stranger’s lap, have a conversation and smile for a picture. It’s no wonder they are so freaked out!

** We wish everyone a “healthy” and “prosperous” new year, and yet most of us have been binging on holiday treats and cookies and over-spending money we don’t have on gifts. Maybe we should wish these things to the people we care about BEFORE the holidays.

So, I wish all of you a patient, generous, fun, well-behaved, portion-controlled, debt-lowering, genuine and meaningful Christmas with the people you know and love.

Polka Dot Clouds

Motherhood is like the sky. It’s unfathomably vast and full of uncertainty. There are moments of turbulence, moments of peace, moments of darkness and moments of beauty. And it’s always changing.

I don’t spend much time cloud-watching unless something brilliant catches my eye. That was the case yesterday. It was mid-morning and the sky was the oddest polka dotted pattern I have memory of seeing. Even my kids were in awe.

Unfortunately, the picture doesn't quite capture what my eye did.

I have no idea what set of conditions and circumstances have to come together to create such wonder, but the outcome was mesmerizing. We watched it for a while, noticing how each puffy little cloud seem to be its own silver button, sticking collectively together in the sky. And, not unlike how kids grow and evolve right before our eyes, it was only a couple hours before the clouds had merged and swirled together to take on a completely different form and the polka dot sky was forever in the past, never to be duplicated exactly the same again.

And so are the moments of motherhood; each with their own set of conditions and circumstances, many of which are out of our control. But when we learn to appreciate the sky for its beauty in that moment, we are reminded to also cherish those fleeting moments of motherhood with our children that, too, will eventually blow away. And what better way to make me stop, look, and take it in with a smile than polka dot clouds.

Feeling a Little Croppy. And Not in a Scrapbooking Kind of Way.

I’m talking about the THOUSANDS of pictures I have of my children...which I adore...but I can’t find a single one of me. Normally I wouldn't think much of it (and may even be a little relieved), but right now I’m scrambling to include a profile picture with the writings I’m submitting. I’ve come to the realization that not only can I count the number of pictures I’m in on one hand (out of the thousands), but my go-to pictures when I need them are the ones that I have cropped.

I’m pretty sure it started right after childbirth when I didn’t want to be photographed because I was overtired, overweight (and no longer pregnant) and feeling nothing like myself. And then the focus continues to be on the infant, then baby, then toddler, then preschooler, then sports and it goes on. Until one day I realize that all those years I spent dodging the camera or being the one behind it means my kids will have little to no record of my existence. I sure hope the memories I’m creating for them will last, because it’s not going to be in print. And while I would have thought it narcissistic in the past to want to be in countless pictures, I am realizing now that it is actually a wonderful gift to give my children. Even when I’m having a bad hair day. Because, really, isn’t it fun and amusing to look back on pictures of YOUR parents when you were little? And have you seen the reaction of your little ones when they see what Grandma and Grandpa looked like way back when? From now on I won’t be afraid to ask strangers to take my picture with my kids, won’t shy away from a camera pointed my direction (even if I’m in my bathing suit or am sans make up), and promise to always smile graciously rather than duck away.

But in the mean time, I’m relegated to my own limited photography skills for my self portrait (yes, that’s me holding my camera out in front). What struck me, though, was that as I looked around at other mom’s profile pictures, I noticed that most of their pictures resemble mine. Isn’t is ironic (and a little sad) that the one person who is probably most influential in their children’s lives is the one person that is missing in pictures? My kids are gonna hate it, but that’s going to change for me. Starting...right...NOW.