Unsettled

Tonight is the eve of Mother's Day. I speak with my mom nearly daily and I see her several times a week. I am so fortunate, and yet I lie on my couch in a state of complete and utter unsettledness.

Those of you who have followed my marathon journey from running 26.2 miles physically into the metaphoric world of running the marathon of being a single parent to a child with a past checkered with adults who either didn't know how or wouldn't act upon their knowledge to be loving, caring and healthy moms and dads. . . that's a run on sentence, but hey, this is a marathon blog so a run on sentence seems fitting in an unsettled kind of way.Anyway, y'all know i Have a child now. That's the point I was trying to get and only realized in hindsight and proofing I forgot to make the point.

As we are all celebrating our moms and how wonderful they are my kid will be reminded of how shitty his was. He will be reminded of the inner conflict and raging fire that burns in two directions of hating her and yet wanting to be with her. He will be reminded, yet again, of how different he is from the mainstream. He has noone to buy flowers for, a card for, to do something extra nice for. Someone to say thank you to. Someone to pamper for the day. Someone to tuck him in and say, "you've made my life incredible!" in a motherly kind of way. I'm a single parent and I wear the hate of mom and dad, but I'm not a mom and I cannot be a substitute. no, I won't steal my child's story from him and insult his experiences. But I want to. I want to snatch him up and cradle him in my arms as I so fondly remember my mom doing time and time again. I want to be the familiar scent that belonged only to my mom. I want to erase the horrible memories and replace them with loving ones.

I want for my child everything that I had growing up and deserved absolutely no more than my child deserves today. But that cannot happen. Maybe I'm just being melodramatic and ego centric. Maybe it isn't that big of a deal at all. Maybe I'm over-analyzing. I don't even know where my thoughts are going except that tonight, after nearly four months, my kid could not go to sleep for fear of a stranger breaking in and murdering him and him not being able to scream loudly enough for me to hear. And this is after we honored and celebrated my mom all this past week. I weep for a childhood that was not lost to my child, rather it was never given to him.

And so tomorrow when churches are full of people honoring their moms and giving them flowers (we will be hosting my own mom for mid-morning brunch) I ask that you join me in lifting all our momless brothers and sisters up. Lord, hear our prayers, replace the hatred with love, the rage with understanding. The anger with compassion. Replenish empty coffers gone hard and cold from rejection. Heal those who are hurting and those engaged in healing. Inspire those who have not seen, but can do so much more. Enable each of our hands, hearts, bodies and minds to be vessels of endless love, boundless joy, contagious laughter and healing touch. Let us be enough. Let us love enough. Let us mom enough.

I don't even know if that's 26.2 cents worth or not, but there it is.

I. Can't. Do. This. As I do.

As my regular readers know, I've recently become a doting dad. I am so proud of my kiddoe and the progress he has made over the last nearly 3 months. There have been some uphill battles, yet there have been many more triumphs to be celebrated! ...increased desire to read (I believe reading is essential to so many things in life), better reading comprehension, nearly perfect scores on vocabulary assessments/tests for four weeks solid, more confidence in both math & science, social skills allowing him to make new friends, integration into a brand new family, decreased cussing and....and...and the list goes on.

There are days, however, that I end the night totally exhausted and think, "I can't do this." One such night I was depleted, I was in tears, my body ached to the same level of my heart. I think what we parents of children in the foster care system fail to share with each other are the hopeless moments. The moments where we wonder if love will overcome. Will 1, 5, 10, 15 years of neglect, abuse, abandonment, etc. be undone and redone in a healthier way? Maybe I'm just alone in this feeling at times? Yes, there are REALLY awesome moments to celebrate, there are equally difficult moments where doubt DOES begin to creep in. I believe in sharing this moments of despair, perhaps someone else can say, "OH MY GOD, I feel the same way too and you got through it? Maybe I can too! Maybe I'm NOT a bad parent because I feel this way..." Again, maybe I am alone in this feeling because I don't hear others talking about it.

But there is hope.

And I was reminded of this hope when I felt hopeless and like a miserable (MISERABLE I SAID) failure at mile 20 of my first marathon. I began to believe that I could not do it. I distinctly remember making the fatal flaw of stopping to pee, my legs froze in those few brief seconds it took to eliminate whatever drips of hydration I may have been holding on to. Then they began to shake and twitch, which sent this message to my brain that I couldn't do it, despite the months of training, reading and preparation. I remember seeing my friend Yadira during this period of doubt, and the doubts were quieted for a brief moment. Brief. Somewhere around mile 22 I caught back up to my running buddy, Trino, and began to verbalize that I couldn't do it. He kept saying, "but you are, look at you, you just took another step." "But I can't, Trino, I can't." "But you are, Donald, you are." and so this banter went back and forth until mile 25 (somewhere there was a cheer squad including a clown, signs and lots of crazy antics from my friends) when I saw the finish line sign. But doubt crept in. I thought they were tricking us and we had to double back through the neighborhood first. But with Trino alongside me, giving me encouragement truly at every step, I did cross that finish line. And what a glorious fucking finish it was! I remember going to the soda fountain and getting a coke. I skipped diet for that day. There was a big thing of rice and beans from the Colombia restaurant. I was enamored with my new, shiny mylar blanket. My boyfriend at the time even made it back in time to see me cross and help hold my wobbling body. On that day, I thought I crossed the finish line because my leg and body muscles were strong enough to transport me 26.2 miles in 4+ hours. Now I realize that's just my ego talking.

I didn't finish because I was personally strong enough; I finished because I had a support team to lift me up and propel me along the path when I was NOT strong enough. And I can do this too, not because I am strong enough but because those around me won't let me fail--THEY are strong enough to carry me when I am weak.

So yes, on this day when I am behind on reports, filing my taxes, dealing with tummy issues in the home, a yard that needs to be cut, a court date for expired tags I TOTALLY forgot about and a bank account that I refuse to look at..my brain might be telling me I can't, my mouth might be saying I can't, but damn it my--and your--actions are proving that we can.

Yes, Love is enough. Hope is enough. And there ya have it, a month on hiatus but my 26.2 exhausted cents worth anyway...

Great Love = Great Miracles

I apologize for my lack of posts, entries, runs and perhaps motivation to get out and pound the pavement. You see, my journey to become a dad began in earnest August, 2012 and on January 23, 2013, I was blessed with a most precious 11 year old who is so full of bright potential. And energy. Energy I thought I had tit for tat. Alas, I do not.

I am adjusting. I am training for a new kind of marathon. The fatigue is just as great, and I must pay just as much attention to proper nutrition, stretching, recovery, self care, directing and redirecting my own self-defeatest thoughts.

Just as with all things in life, I believe being a parent to a child in foster care is JUST like a marathon. Shock, right?

I like to chunk my marathons in 5K races...the first is warm up, anticipation, excitement. The 2nd is like, uh...I got this. The third I begin to wonder why I didn't just do the half again, I'd be almost done. The 4th I realize it's no turning back, make it or break it. So on and so forth until I reach the final two when I am beginning to wonder if I made a huge mistake. My energy storage tanks are depleted. And I think that it would be so much easier to have just worked at a water stop instead. Dumb me again! But then I reach another mile. And I gulp some water. And I eat an orange slice. And I high five a kid. And I think, "HECK YEA, I GOT THIS BRO!" And then a few paces later I wonder who just said that cause it surely wasn't me. And then another pretzel, another gu, another boost of energy, "HECK YEA....BAM! I GOT THIS! MOVE IT SLOW POKE!" And then...I think you get the picture.

And so for exactly three weeks, I've been running the above marathon. My first 5k was horrendously slow, but I was so proud. And it was only 3.1 miles. My first full marathon was horrendously slow but I was so proud. And it was 26.2 miles. I celebrated each mile(haha)stone with fist pumps in the air, smiles on my face and giggles in my throat.

So shall I accomplish this, the greatest marathon I'll ever race AND WIN. or at least that's my 26 point 2 very determined cents worth. . .

When there is great love there are always miracles.
~ Willa Cather

Resolutions:
Every year thousands, if not millions, of people across the world (or is this just a US thing?) make New Year's Resolutions. They typically go along the lines of:
I'm going to lose weight; I'm going to quit smoking; I'm not going to fight with my spouse so much; I'm not going to watch as much TV; etc.

Do you notice a fundamental flaw in the wording here? They focus on the negative and not the positive. And that's what we so-often do throughout so many aspects of our lives.

Ugh, if I don't get up and exercise I'm going to be fat. If I don't get on that dating website I'm going to remain single. If I don't save money I'm going to keep being poor.

What if we reworded it to focus on the positive:
This year, I'm going to believe that I deserve to live a healthy life by exercising more. This year, I'm going to save money and improve my health by no longer smoking. This year, my spouse and I are going to have a wonderful relationship founded on communication. This year, I'm going to try out that hobby that's been in the back of my mind instead of watching 3 hours of tv each night.

If I do workout more, I'm going to be healthier, happier and better. If I join that website, I may find my partner. When I save money, I'm going to be able to pay ca$h for that dream vacation.

BOOYA! I mean, come on, don't you get excited when you put things in a positive perspective?

Frankly, I do not believe that corrective action works. Negative consequences of negative behaviors don't work either in my opinion or none of us would be eating fried foods and oreos at midnight (or is that just me?) if negative consequences worked, obesity would not be on the rise, would it? so instead, let's get back to a positive reinforcement of a positive behavior. I think I learned something about that a bazillion years ago in some psych 101 class I took at the local community college.

Now, if you don't mind I have to get to my ab crunches, because when I do ab crunches and work on my core, I'm going to be able to BEAT that Kentucky Derby FULL Marathon coming up in April. Yes Ma'am I will! Or at least that's my 26.2 cents worth and hey, if you're working on paying your debt off, every 26.2 cents counts. Can I get an amen?

My '12 Insights

• Be a little kinder than necessary

• It is more difficult for me to receive than it is to give, yet equally important

• Allow myself to fully experience every single emotion that comes up

• No, I have not moved beyond, above, over, around or past...I've simply moved forward

• My career isn't what drives me, it's my passion that is in the driver's seat and sometimes I break the speed limit and run a red light now and then

• Drugs and their ill-effects are awful, addictions ruin lives and not just those of the addicts

• A plan is nice, it is also nice to be able to go with the flow

• A new phrase that got me through many stressful moments: this is about you and your journey, not me and mine

• I will always be a crazy dreamer, and no, I'm not the only one

• I didn't know what I was capable of until I faced something I didn't think I was capable of 

• People really do feel, see, hear, experience the dead; spirits exist in my daily reality

• I am worth it

I only gave myself 12 minutes to reflect back on 2012 and pull out the 12 insights I've gained this past year. The above is what came to me, unedited. I may go back later and expand on some, or I may leave them alone. What have you learned from 2012?

Now I know

Today's thoughts have come up in past posts: One More Minute.

Last time I focused on being able to do anything for one more minute as a means of self-motivation to the next mile marker.

Today I tried that trick on myself and I thought about my grandma.

More than that, I thought what would one more minute be like with her? And then with my dad.

Just one more minute. Seems odd, when running at a 7:30 minute mile, it seems one minute lasts an eternity. We struggle just to get through a minute sometimes. But I wonder... Would it be enough time to squeeze in all the love? Wash clean the bad feelings? Express all that needed and wanted to be expressed?

Why do I think that one minute would be enough when 68 and 52 years respectively weren't.

Because now I know. Now I know death is real. Now I know that it is an ending, but not the finite ending. Now I know that a minute of love is much more important than a nano-second of ill-will, hard feelings and resentment. Now I know.

If I could have just one more minute, I'd make it count. I don't know how, but I sure would try. Because now I know...or at least that's my 26.2 cents worth...if you had just one more minute, what would you do? And what's preventing you ?

Old Friend, We Meet Again

I am learning more and more each week how out of it I was this year. People are telling me things, events, speeches, classes, etc, that I was involved in, gave, delivered, taught and I'm clueless. This was hammered home today by the level of difficulty in running the short 3.3 miles around Iroquois Park. Not too long ago, I was running from my house to Iroquois Park (1.6 miles) then around the park at least 2-3 times (7+ miles at minimum) and back home (another 1.6 miles). Today, I *drove* to the park and still barely made it around the 3.2 mile base. And I stopped to take a walking break.

Ugh. 

This sucks. 

What the heck happend!? 

I stopped putting in the work. Plain and simple. I rested on my laurels. Literally. And today, I expected to be able to conquer the park in the same 24-27 minutes I did last year. 30 minutes later I realized it was preposterous for me to expect that. And so it is. I've lost contact with the park. With my muscles. With my lung. With my future. With my past. With my life. With my motivation. With the insides of my thighs (did they burn like that last time I started running!?). With my head (pounding). With myself. 

As I was rounding the final hill I realized this is much like my life. I lived in Florida for 8 years. During those 8 years, I gradually lost contact with my Louisville people and connected with an equally fabulous group of Florida people. They became my support network. My Family. My confidants. My influence. My life. And now.... I haven't put in the work. It is preposterous to think that I'll maintain the same level of relationship with my Florida friends if I don't work for it. My friend S and I have played phone tag since my birthday (a month now) and finally connected briefly yesterday. It was good to catch up. But it was like running through the park--a little different. Familiar. Comfortable. Comforting. Welcomed. But different. 

I miss my Florida people and I've not found that same connection here in Louisville just yet. But it took me about four years in Florida-I'm entering my 3rd here. It's odd. Being on familiar turf, but knowing few and connecting with even fewer. It will take time, but I will be back. And so will my friend-network. 

Come to think of it, it's just like my running journey. It has had its ups and downs. The more effort I put forth, the more I yield. The more I give the more I receive. For one who is both an introvert and a non-runner the following is true of making friends and of running: it's not easy and staying on the couch is a much more alluring alternative but where does that get me? 

So there you have it...awkwardly trudging forward, trying to find my place in the running and friendship world. I'll get to the finish line one of these days, for now, in the words of Vivian (a presenter I had the opportunity to recently see), "a DLF > DNF > DNS" or "a dead last finish is greater than a did not finish , which is better than a did not show." At least that's my and Vivian's 26.2 friendcents worth...