A New Addition......

A friend at the gym asked me the other day, "Signing up for any marathons this year?"

"No", I responded. "Not planning on it."

"Oh, I bet you'll be signing up for another one before you know it! They're addictive and you LOVE to run."

He has a point, I thought. And yes,I would have already signed up for at least one marathon, a few triathlons, and a half ironman, if life wasn't taking a different turn for our family this year.

We're adopting. And after all the hours of training, wisdom of those who have gone before us, and some gentle nudging by the Holy Spirit, we've decided that 2012 needs to be dedicated to our family. We're scraping every activity, commitment, and hobby off of our plates that we can possibly live without. Instead our days will revolve around helping our new son and our biological children adjust to a new life- as a family of 6.

We've chosen to adopt out of the Denver County foster care system. And in our perfect vision for our family, he would be a 2-4 year old male(and my husband is hoping for a boy of African-American ethnicity). But honestly, we won't know until we know until we know......

I've been assured (again and again and....again) that it's going to be hard. In fact, I'm pretty sure that the main priorities of those who train prospective adopting families are:
1) Make sure they know it's not easy.
2) Help them lower their expectations.
3) Tell them it's going to be really hard.

Children who come out of foster-care, orphanages, or any less-than ideal start in life will have experienced trauma. A good rule of thumb is, the amount of time a child spent in a traumatic situation, the same amount of time will be needed to deal with the trauma. Professionals say you can expect the child to be about half the age developmentally as they are physically. So adopting a 4 year old is really like adopting a 2 year old.

But despite all the warnings and the setting aside of things (like races) that are important to me, I am beyond excited for what this next year holds for our family. The kids have been anxiously waiting for "Brother" for the last three years and I think we are all getting more excited as the "gotcha" date moves closer and closer.

So when exactly will Brother become a part of our family? That is a question that only God can answer, but my best guess is sometime this spring. We still have to do the homestudy, but we were told by Denver County that we should expect to be certified in 6-8 weeks.

The bunk beds are up and now we are all just waiting.......

The Blog Effect

I think my toddler has an aversion to blogs. Or maybe just my blogs. Either way, whenever she sees me sit at the computer with my thinking face on, she screams. Every time. Without exception.
Which may be why, despite all my good intentions of staying current in the cyber world, I fall behind.....again.....and again.....and....

Uh, I gotta go. Lily is screaming.

But I will catch up soon:)

Survior-Crabs

They were gifts, the two hermit crabs. Given to us by dear friends who were moving across the country and needed to leave their pets behind them. So when Buddy, now 5 ½, lost them in our house, I couldn’t help but feel terrible.

Joe and Sally didn’t do much. They were pretty easy by pet standards, and honestly, if you forgot to feed them for a few days (okay, maybe even a week) they didn’t seem to mind. Occasionally I’d allow the kids to get them out of the cage and watch them maneuver obstacles on the family room floor. But on most days, they just hung in their tank.

I left on Friday afternoon for a home school conference and wouldn’t return until the following Saturday afternoon. My husband and several friends were helping to watch the kiddos for me while I was gone. When I returned home on Saturday afternoon the house was a disaster: play-doh crusties ground into the living room carpet, shoes strewn through every room and hall, and three meals worth of food droppings caking the hardwood floors below the dining room table. But the kids were happy and still breathing, so I couldn’t complain too much.

I threw a load of dishes in the sink and began picking up laundry. Carrying the first pile (yes, there was more than one) down to the laundry room, I notice the lid on the hermit crabs’ tank was up. “Huh, that‘s a little peculiar,” I thought. Looking inside I noticed that Joe and Sally were not snuggled into the sand as usual.

“Peanut!!!! Buddy!!!!” I yelled. “Where exactly are Joe and Sally?”

Buddy immediately looked guilty. “I took them out to play.”

“Okay, fine. So where are they now?” I asked. He ran downstairs to the table where he had set them, looking confused that they were no longer there.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I left them right here!”

“When? When did you leave them here? Who was watching you when you got them out?”

“Ms. Brenda,” he said. She was here early Friday afternoon.

“Just great,” I concluded. “The crabs have been missing for more than 30 hours already, and no one even noticed.”

We searched high and low that day. Nothing. We searched the next day, too. Still nothing. Inspired by a conference session about decluttering the home, I decided to go through the house room by room cleaning and purging. On the third day since Sally had disappeared, I found her huddled next to the downstairs couch when I was moving it to vacuum. I carefully reached out my finger to touch the shell thinking she was probably dead. Movement. She survived.

Sally had originally been Buddy’s crab. But since he was the one who almost killed her and she was now our only hermit crab, we decided it was only fair for Sally to now belong to Peanut. She renamed her Sparkles.

Days and weeks went by, and we all assumed Joe was dead. The crazy summer rainstorms had kept our basement unusually cool and hermit crabs like it to be a warm 80 degrees. Besides, he had no food and no water.

4 weeks since the incident:

For Peanut's seventh birthday, we moved her room downstairs. I set up a monitor so I could hear if she needed me at night. It was a big adjustment to be on a separate level from mom and dad, so she occasionally got scared in the dark and called for me to come down and comfort her.

One night I was lying next to her in bed, praying and singing as she slowly fell back to sleep. Right as her breathing slowed and she‘d finally dozed off, I heard a noise in the ceiling above my head. I froze.

“Oh my goodness!” I thought, “We have a mouse! There is a mouse in my daughters room!!!!” I stood still listening for a few minutes. The mouse was scratching at the ceiling tiles, scurrying around on the ceiling. I was mortified! How could I, in good conscience, allow my daughter to sleep in the same room as a mouse!

I stood from her bed and listened more carefully. The sound was actually coming from the wall, like the mouse had fallen behind the drywall. “Great!” I thought. “Now he’s trapped back there and there’s no way to get him out. We’re going to have a stinky smell for weeks!”

The scratching moved toward the electrical outlet. Smart mouse. He was going to chew his way out at the corner of the socket. I stood there staring at the wall, in the dark, waiting for that little critter to peep his eyes through the hole. I didn’t have a plan, exactly, but I was NOT going to let him make a home in my home.

Movement! I inched closer to the wall. Crawling over the top of Peanut's CD player that sits on her floor, I saw a form. But it was big and slow and not very mouse-like.

“Joe!!!!” I yelled. “You survived!!!“ I couldn’t believe it. I noticed a tipped over cup of water next to the CD player. He must have hunkered down next to his only water source and waited for rescuers. He was missing for 30 days, but he made it. We put Joe back in the tank with Sparkles and watched as they swapped war stories.

No Run For You!!!!

I am guilty. I have let this blog get outdated once again. I guess the craziness of summer combined with three small children who absolutely are not fond of Mommy spending time online are to blame. So to catch up…….

Coming into the Olympic Triathlon in late June, the stress fracture in my right foot started hurting again. The podiatrist, the same one who allowed me to run both a marathon and a 5K on a stress fracture, broke form and said, "No running for you!" Instead, I competed in the Loveland Lake to Lake Aquabike, which involves doing the swim leg and bike leg of the triathlon, and instead of the run portion, you simply get off your bike and make a beeline to the finish. The funny part about the aquabike event is it is almost exclusively injured athletes (myself included), so the 25 yd dash to the finish line is quite comical, with some racers literally hopping on one leg. I placed fourth with a decent time, getting schooled by three women from Boulder who finished sub 2 hours (read: CRAZY FAST!).

So for the last 3, almost 4 weeks I have been forbidden to run. To fill my sad heart with other activities, I have mountain biked, taken to swimming 3 days/week, and began a love-hate relationship with Barre Sculpt.

I have one more race I am signed up for this summer, Outdoor Divas Sprint Triathlon in mid-August, and am hoping and praying my foot will heal in time. Oh, and I am also throwing around the idea of adding 1 or 2 other triathlons to my repetoire. Because, well, I’m a glutton for punishment.

The verdict is.......still out.

After accumulating stress fractures in BOTH feet, I find myself reluctant to run. The pain, like a sharp nail being driven through the center of my foot with a sledge hammer, is simply not worth cranking out 3 miles on the treadmill. The marathon is over. And honestly, I'm a little burnt out on the whole running thing right now.

But oh, wait. Tri season is officially here. And I did register for a few of those.

So, like most hobby-level triathletes, I find myself desperately trying to log laps in the pool and miles on the bike. And I yell at my feet a lot, too. "Heal, already! Seriously! The race is in 3 weeks!"

So if my feet are not up challenge, I will simply downgrade to the aqua-bike option and cheer for my friends and Hubby while they do the whole triathlon.

But if they ARE up to the challenge.........is it too much to hope for a new Olympic-Tri PR?

So you want to start running, eh?

I get asked this question all of the time: I want to get back into running (or start running) but I just can't get motivated. Do you have any suggestions?

Suggestions? Me? You bet I do!

I think most people desire to run, or even used to run, but for whatever reason now find themselves out of running shape. Even though I've run competitively since I was in middle school, after I had my first and second child I struggled to start running again. I didn't exercise much through either pregnancy, mostly just walking and occasional lifting. Then, when I found myself with two babies under two, I found it extremely difficult to fit in any form of exercise altogether, let alone running. I had a double jogger, but my kids were uncooperative when restrained, especially when restrained next to each other.

It wasn't until my oldest was two, that I finally committed to getting back into competitive shape. We switched our gym membership over to the YMCA, where they include two hours of free child care with a family membership. I found myself slowly eeking back into shape. I signed up for a 10K and loved every second of it. Fast forward five years, and here I am today absolutely in love with running and racing.

So how do you get from, I kind-of-hate-but-tolerate running, to loving, even craving, to run?

Here's a few tips:

1) AVOID ROOKIE MISTAKES

Most people, when they first get started, think they're back in PE running the mile for time. They take off crazy fast, poop out after one lap, and pull over on the sidelines keeled over and coughing like a lifetime smoker. Then they walk away discouraged, hating running, and not motivated to try again the next day.

*START SLOW! Run at a pace where you're in control, able to hold a conversation, and not about to die.

*STAY POSITIVE! Don't tell yourself you're“not a runner” or that you’re “going to feel bad” during a run.

* DON'T DO TOO MUCH, TOO SOON! Don't try to run 5 days/week when you first start, aim for 2 or 3 instead. Increase ONE run/week by about 1 mile or 10 minutes, keeping the others the same.

*EAT! About 2-2 1/2 hours before you run, consume a banana, or bagel, or SOMETHING. Get used to eating before you run now, because when you start running longer distances (6+ miles) your body will rely on those calories.

*RIGHT FORM! Keep your arms at a 90 degree angle, chest open, head up, torso leaning slightly forward.

*RIGHT SHOES! You can't dig those $20 sneakers from college out of the closet and expect to run well and without injury. Invest in some new, good running shoes. And get some cool new running short or tights while you're at it. Sometimes looking like a runner will give you the confidence to be a runner.

2) REGISTER FOR A RACE

Seriously. You can talk all you want about finally doing a 5K, but until you actually pay the money and put it on your calendar, it's easy to back out. Depending on your current fitness level, pick something that's 8-16 weeks away. May I suggest The Justice Run on September 25th in Littleton? We have a 5K option, perfect for those runner's who are just starting out and a 10K option, for those who are ready to up the distance and challenge themselves a little more. Check out www.thejusticerun.org. I'll even be posting some beginner and intermediate training plans there in the near future. Oh! And ALL the money raised goes to help human trafficking victims through the Justice Project.

Still not convinced to sign up for a race? Running to just run can get boring. Doing a race gives you an endpoint, something to work toward. And doing races is fun and addictive: the atmosphere, crossing the finish line, the satisfaction of a well earned beer (oh, and accomplishing a goal, too!).



3) COME UP WITH A STRATEGY

I know we’re all super busy, especially with small kids, jobs, commitments. It's important to find a training schedule that's flexible and attainable.

Answer these questions:
When can you train?
Morning, nights, naptime?

Where will I train?
Treadmill at home, at the gym, or outside?

And if you're really starting from scratch, start with a walking plan first:

Start by walking for 25-30 minutes a day, as many days a week as you can, until it feels easy.
Then increase your pace, walking briskly for those 30 minutes each day. When this gets easy, start inserting a few jogs, of about 100 yards or so, during your 30 minute walk. Then continue to run/walk, increasing your run time each day.

Tricks for a Run/Walk Plan:
Use IPOD with # of songs. Run for 1 song, walk 1 song. Keep increasing.
Distance: Run to tree, walk. Run to school, walk.
Time: Run 4 minutes, walk 1 minute. Run 5 minutes, walk 1 minute.
Commercials: watch a show (like Biggest Loser) walk during the show, run during the commercials.

How I train:

My husband works crazy hours & I homeschool my children so they are with me ALL of the time. Most days I go to the gym. Sometimes I switch off with my friend (or husband): I watch the kids while she/he/ runs, she/he watches them while I run. You can always figure out a way to make it work!

Plus, you already signed up for a race, right? So you pretty much HAVE to figure out a way to make it work!

Don't hesitate to ask me any questions.......or for a training schedule:)

Runners on Your Mark, Get Set, Go!

3:50 am: Alarm goes off. I hop in the shower, heat up some coffee, and eat my traditional pre-race breakfast: a bagel, peanut butter, and banana slices. I dress in long sleeves, pants, jacket, gloves, and headband. It's FREEZING outside, only 34 degrees!

4:20 am: My hubby drives me to catch the race bus. All 1,000 marathoners are required to ride the bus to the start line, 16 miles up Poudre Canyon in Ft. Collins. I chat with the gal next to me, who is also running her first marathon. I tell her I haven't run in almost two weeks because of my broken foot. "Really? You broke your foot and you're still going to do this thing?" she asks. My response, "Everyone one of us is going to be in some sort of pain during the marathon, I'm just lucky that I know exactly where it's gonna hurt."

5:45 am: Buses arrive at the start line with only 30 minutes to spare. I do the same thing the other 999 runners do- get in line for the port-o-potties. The line is CRAZY long, snaking back and forth at least six different times. I chat with the people around me.

6:10 am: Still in line for bathroom. Race starts in 5 minutes, so I get desperate- I run off into the woods, take care of business, and make it back to the starting area barely in time for the National Anthem. Others still wait for the bathroom.

6:15 am: Starting gun goes off! This is it. This is what I've trained for since January. I start my Garmin, start my IPOD, and weave past runners working my way up to those with a similar pace.

7:20 am: I'm about 8 miles in and my foot starts hurting. I took three tylenol(only type of pain killers I can take) when I first woke up, and I take two more now. The pain isn't bad, dulled by the medicine, and nothing I can't handle for the time being.

8:11 am: Halfway mark: 1:56. I'm on perfect pace, holding steady at 8:51/mile. I feel great! The canyon is absolutely beautiful; cliffs on both sides, a river snaking below the road.

8:15 am: FINALLY! A port-o-potty that doesn't have a line! Since the start of the race, every bathroom has had 2 or 3 runner's standing outside of it waiting to get inside. I've seen men and women both, darting in to the woods, behind trees, on the side of signs, all trying to do some quick-relieving without losing too many valuable seconds.

8:38 am: We are finally out of the canyon! 16 miles down, 10 miles to go. By now it is getting hot and my jacket is making me sweat. I take it off, tie it around my waist, and get ready to drop it to the Hubby as soon as I see him. I eat an entire Cliff Bloks bar, hoping I've taken in enough calories so far. You're supposed to eat somewhere around 200 calories/hour during prolonged activity, careful not to deplete your glycogen stores. I've never been able to eat that much mid-race, but I'm extra cautious today, taking in about 150 calories/hour.

8:47 am: Mile 17 is the first place along the course where spectators can see the runners. For the last 167 minutes, it's been just me, the other runners, an occasional passing car, and the aid station volunteers. But now, as I run up the slight incline to where two main highways intersect, I see the course is lined with cheering fans, holding awesome signs. I see, "Chafe now, brag forever" and "Every step is one step closer to beer". Oh, and my personal favorite, "Chuck Norris can't run a marathon". There's my Hubby and friend Kristen running toward me. Jeremiah takes my jacket, offers a gel packet and some more tylenol, as well as some encouraging words, "You're doing great and looking strong!"

9:10 am: My awesome friend Kristen drove all the way up to Ft. Collins to help me run the last 7 miles, the hardest miles by far, of the marathon. She meets me right before mile 19 at the bottom of "Bagel Hill", the biggest hill on the course. We work our way up to the top, and I start to feel it. The heavy-leg, lactic acid soaked muscle feeling. Up until this point, I had no problem holding a sub 9 minute/mile pace. But now.....things are starting to really hurt....my mental resolve is chunking away piece by piece.....and my shoes feel like they're filled with Quik-set cement.

9:20 am: Less than an hour left to go (I hope!) and only 5 and a half miles. I see my Husband cheering for the last time until the finish line. We jump on to a winding bike path that promises to take us to the finish. I have no idea what's coming as this is the only part of the course I wasn't able to see before the race; a mistake I will not make again. And I am so thirsty! I'm honestly on the verge of tears looking for the next aid station. I opted to not carry my own water fearing the extra weight it would put on my broken foot. Early dehydration is setting in.

9:30 am: Kristen is smiling, encouraging me that we're getting close to the finish. She's also giving pep talks to other runners who, I'm sure, look about as miserable as I look right now.

9:52 am: 3 miles to go. Under normal circumstances, 3 miles feels like nothing to me. When you're doing 10 mile tempo runs & 20 mile long runs, 3 miles feels like eating dessert and taking a nap. But not today. I want to lie down on the side of the trail and cry.

10:18 am: We turn off the trail onto a road. There in the not-to-far distance is what I've been waiting for- the Finish Line! Kristen says, "There it is Jenny! Run it home, you're almost finished!" and drops off the course to watch the finish with the spectators.

10:20 am: I cross the finish line, arms raised, elated to have finished and to have finished well. I gulp down an entire bottle of water, take my awesome medal and commemorative poster, and look for my husband. 4:05, final time.