We are halfway through 2008.

Do you remember what your New Year’s Resolutions were? Do you care?

I looked back at mine and felt pretty good.

My two starting goals were to keep better records and to stay within my food limits for at least four days each week. The results of these are mixed. I have been keeping my records faithfully all year. I love looking and the downward trend of my graph and seeing all the rows of data filled in on my sheet. As far as the food? As always, it remains my biggest struggle. While I can’t say I have stayed within my limits for four days each week, I can say, with certainty, that I have created new habits and I am consistently making better choices with food than I was six months ago.

With the exception of the 1/2 marathon (which seemed like a pipe dream in January, and now it’s over!), I can’t think of any other goals that I have set and attained this year. But I don’t believe that is because they didn’t exist, I think it’s because I didn’t keep track of them very well.

So, building on my record-keeping success, I am setting a goal to write down my new goals and note when I achieve them. I listed a few new goals here and I am choosing to focus on losing fat and gaining muscle (through more concentrated nutrition efforts and pools of sweat at the gym) and becoming a better 1/2 marathon runner (by running with my new running friend, Katie, who kind of talked me in to doing another 1/2 marathon - yikes!).

You have six months left in 2008 - what are you going to do?

I told you I had pictures.

As you can see, we managed to have a good time despite the irrational fears.

Oh those crazy grandparents.

Good weather helps too.

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Justin had the rest of the week off so we decided to take another adventure on Thursday.

The irony of the fact that we are, in these pictures, riding a ferry across the water - and liking it - is not lost on me.

So we went to the beach last weekend. Yes, I have adorable pictures of my child, and I’ll post them later, after I vent.

We went to the beach last weekend, and Andrew decided he was afraid of the water.

Not just afraid like he didn’t want to go in it. Afraid like he didn’t want to hear it. Or see it. Or be in it’s general vicinity in any way.

I don’t get it. Over Memorial Day Weekend, he and I played tag with the waves and now he has to be coaxed in to driving his trucks in the dunes?

Needless to say, this put a damper on our time at the beach.

On Saturday we managed to drag him kicking and screaming gently persuade him to come down and play in a stream where Grandpa helped him build a dam and, shocker!, he had a great time. But for the rest of the weekend we scrambled to find other things to do besides play at the beach.

The pinnacle came on Monday after my parents went home. The three of us were walking back to the car from one city park with the intention of driving to another city park. Andrew announced that he had to go to the bathroom, so we headed to the restrooms that border the beach. He got one look at the water (more than 300 yards away) and completely melted down because - the waves! There they were! And they were making noise! And they were going to get him! And we need to find another potty! And he really needs to go potty! After about 20 minutes clinging to me and sobbing he asked if we could just go home to Andrew’s house because everything here is too close to the water and he didn’t want to be that close to the water. We said no, we were on vacation and this was Mommy and Daddy’s vacation too and, while we didn’t have to go near the water, we were going to stay and find other fun things to do.

What kind of kid doesn’t want to stay at the beach?

ARRRRGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

And I know - I KNOW - I have to pick my battles and the kid has quirks and things will probably be fine the next time we go. And I know - I KNOW (so you don’t need to tell me, mom) - that I handled it beautifully and that I am so patient with him and that, in the long run, we will work together to figure out his fears. But that does not change the fact that he frustrates the hell out of me and since I can’t say that to him, I thought I would say it here.

(deep breath)

Do you know what else I know? He is exactly like me.

I’ve talked about cottage cheese before. I know some people love it and some people hate it. For me, in the morning, nothing works like cottage cheese.

The plan:

1/2 cup cottage cheese
2/3 cup smart bran cereal (insert your favorite really crunchy cereal here)
1 cup mixed berries

The results:

Happy tummy. Lots of energy. No mid-morning crash. One dish to clean.

I know next week is the official Five Ingredients or Less edition of WFMW, and I’ll come up with something for that too. This week? It’s just breakfast. And that works for me.

Check out more great Works For Me Wednesday tips at Rocks In My Dryer.

Which came first, the smoothie obsession or the new blender? It’s a new take on an ancient question.

When my old blender failed to crush the ice for the smoothies I decided to become obsessed with, I jumped on the opportunity to replace it with this beauty. (But I need it to make recovery shakes. It’s for my health.)

After a few days of berry-licious concoctions, I got a few smoothie books from the library. My adventuresome favorite so far is the pumpkin pie smoothie.

Ingredients:

1 sweet potato - microwave, allow to cool, scoop flesh into blender (note: prick holes in the skin with a fork first - trust me)
1/2 cup nonfat, plain yogurt
1 tsp vanilla
spices to taste (chives, ginger, cinnamon, nutmeg)
1 tbl ground flax seed
1/2 scoop vanilla protein powder

Mix it all together and, presto - second breakfast. I used way too much nutmeg, but the potential is there.

Nutrition info: Calories 273, Fat 3.6g, Carbohydrates 44g, Fiber 7g, Protein 18g

The long, cold spring is finally giving up and my flowers are beginning to peek out, promising sunny days to come.

Here are some great pictures Justin took recently:

Purplelicious.

I’ve had these iris (irises? That doesn’t seem right. Who knows.) for three years and this is their first bloom. How exciting!

The roses that I got from Jen last summer are really getting revved up and, once I get the aphids off, I will put some pictures of them up too.

Flowers make me so happy.

Andrew is becoming a boy of snakes and snails and puppy dog tails. Okay, maybe not puppy dog tails, but you know what I mean.

I’m sure I will find something awful one of these days, I’ve already sent the pine cones in his pocket through the wash.

I just finished The House of Lanyon by Valerie Anand. Read my thoughts on the Book List.

Works For Me Wednesday is hard without a topic!

This was the first week of our CSA, because nothing will get me to eat more vegetables like paying for them up front. The crazy weather is delaying some crops in our area by up to a month, so I wasn’t sure what we would find when we went to pick up our share.

This week it was greens, greens and more greens. Looking at this stash, I’m thinking cold chicken salad with a vinaigrette, apple-rhubarb applesauce, egg white scrambles or frittatas - oh yeah, this will work for me. I’m also going to look up some veggie smoothie recipes - who knows, maybe Andrew will eat them in milkshake form.

Since Andrew’s goal in life is to be a tractor driver, the CSA brings an added bonus of spending some time at the farm this summer. In July the kids get to work in their own garden plot and the siren song of you-pick berries and fresh herbs is calling my name.

Most CSA’s in our area are still accepting sign-ups for the summer share, you can find more information on your local CSA here and check out Rocks In My Dryer for more great Works For Me Wednesday tips.

One of these weeks I want to write this post and call it ‘Still On Track’, and someday I will.

But, this week, it is back on track. I guess that’s a good place to start.

I weighed in last night at 199.2. Down 2.6. That’s good.

I’m working on getting back to basics with my nutrition, sticking to the rules and staying within my daily calories.

It always amazes me how hard some so-called simple rules can be.

Remember when I talked about running the Seattle Marathon this November?

I changed my mind.

Amid the questions of how I was going to fit the training in, or whether my knees were up to it, or if running 26.2 miles is actually good for the human body - and somewhere around mile 10 of the half-marathon - it hit me. I don’t want to run the Seattle Marathon this year.

Not that I don’t want to run it ever, or that I don’t want to run in general, just that I don’t want to run the Seattle Marathon this year.

I learned a lot in preparation for the 1/2. I learned that 13.1 is an attainable, but difficult, goal. I learned that even the most supportive family gets stressed when working around an increasingly demanding training schedule. I learned that unless I really want something, it will seem like a heinous chore. I learned that while I really want to run, I don’t ever want it to feel like a chore. I learned that pushing myself too hard makes my body break down. I learned that I don’t want to be sick all the time.

So I spent the last week thinking. I thought about what I WANT to do and I came up with this list:*

-I want to make a concerted effort to lose fat and gain muscle, read: more weights, less running.
-I want to run the North Olympic Discovery 1/2 Marathon next year (June 9, 2009!) WITH JUSTIN (yes, I just outed him) and better my time.
-I want to go hiking/sand castle building/trike riding on Saturdays and not worry about which 3-5 hours of the day I should spend running.
-I want to get faster and better my times in shorter races.
-I want to be a good 1/2 marathon runner before I move on to longer distances.
-I want to stabilize my eating habits and focus on better nutrition.

The fact that I gave myself permission to entertain the thought of not running the marathon, especially after making a public declaration of intent is remarkable. I am still in the process of beating down the voices that would tell me to run it so that I’m not a failure. I’d be lying if I said they weren’t there, but they’re weaker than they used to be - or maybe I just don’t care as much.

Grace is a beautiful thing.

*and yes, you’re going to hear more about these goals

I’ve decided to defy the weather and start playing outside. Yes, it’s still cold, but it is summer and we are going outside.

Today, on Justin’s day off, we put on our coats and went to Flaming Geyser State Park.

Have stick. Will travel.

We’ll turn him in to a climber yet.

After climbing in the tree, Andrew has decided that we are a family of birds and has been running around chirping for the rest of the day - that is, until he collapsed in to his four-plus hour nap.

Nature is a great thing.

Another cool find on the table at the library, Ellington Boulevard by Adam Langer.

Even if I hadn’t developed a strange obsession with this corner of the Park last April, I would have still liked this book. Head over to the book list to read more.

…(and, trust me, I considered that option)

Sometimes you have to cut your losses.

It is 12:38 AM.

Andrew is downstairs watching Cars for the third time in the past 18 hours.

Apparently the side effects of sleeplessness, hyperactivity (especially in children), and restlessness listed on the side of the prednisone bottle apply to him.

Maybe I should have waited to give him the first dose until tomorrow morning.

On the plus side, he’s not wheezing anymore.

I’m really, really tired.

Almost every morning, Andrew greets me with the question, “What does today bring, Mommy?”

I love the cadence in his voice as he asks. I love the trust implied in that question. I love that he is equally satisfied with Monday’s answer - Grammy and Poppa are coming over and then we are going to the grocery store and the library - and Thursday’s answer - we’re going ____________ (insert someplace fun and exciting). All he wants is to know what is coming next.

Now that I’m done with the 1/2 marathon, I have to ask myself, “What does today bring?”

I didn’t go to my meeting last night because Andrew and I are both sick, but I weighed myself at home - 201.

Training for distance has been hard on my weight loss. I gave the running too much credit to cover up my poor food choices. I didn’t really worry about what I ate on the days that I ran long. I struggled to establish habits within the extremes of my daily calories - 2500 calories on Saturday, 1530 on Sunday, 1980 on Monday - I couldn’t settle in to a pattern and I spent most days feeling stuffed or starving.

I’m ready to take the next step. Today, and the next few weeks while I take a break from running, brings nutritional order. Today brings a return to measuring portions and an end to the guessing games of how many calories that meal had. Today brings some new foods, new recipes (yes, I’ll share them) and a sweep of the pantry.

It gives my controlling heart great joy to get back to basics.

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In other news, today brought a doctor’s appointment for the little boy, some antibiotics for an ear infection and an additional steroid for his asthma.

Here’s to better living through chemistry.

Sunday morning was cool and cloudy. I slept surprisingly well, something about crashing waves and seagulls outside the window will do that to me.

An hour before my alarm, I lie awake, the past 14 months running through my mind.

Starting Couch-to-5k. My first continuous mile. My first 20 minutes. My first hour. My second hour.

Remember this, I thought, remember how much it took to get here.

My first race. My second race. The moment running became a part of me.

Remember. Remember.

Too often I forget. Too often I am too busy looking ahead to enjoy the present.

Not today. Not this moment. Today, I will be present.

We started off, trying to pace ourselves, trying to take it slow, talking about how unreal it seemed that we were actually here.

All smiles at Mile 3, we’re just getting warmed up.

Mile 7 - It’s easy to smile when you know the rest of the course is flat or downhill. After watching my heart rate monitor sit at 175 for the last, hilly 3/4 mile, I was ready for some fuel.

I’ve heard that the last three miles of a half-marathon are where your body breaks down and your mind takes over. My mind was full. Full of the beauty of the course, of the encouragement of your comments, of the repeated refrain of Heidi’s early morning text - “Kill! Kill! Kill! Northerners attack! Your stubborn head can get you through anything. I’m so fucking proud of you!” I focused on each of these things as my heart rate climbed - 175, 179, 181.

1.5 miles to go. There was no way I was going to stop.

With the finish line in sight I managed to give Justin one last smile, although the shot he took when I wasn’t looking tells the real story.

I crossed the line. I heard the beep telling me that my chip had registered. A man gave me my medal and held my elbow as I struggled to find my footing and looked for Nick, who had finished a little ways ahead of me.

I crossed the line. I finished what I started. I tried as hard as I could. I left everything I had on the course.

I crossed the line. No matter where I go, there’s no going back.

The rest of the pictures are here.

I’m blaming the weather.

There is no other reason why Andrew and I are both sick - again.

If we could be outside the germs would not fester.

It’s hard to write anything thoughtful about the race when you have a clingy, coughing, feverish child on your lap.

I promise I’ll try later.

Official results - 2.12.19.6 (by my calculations that 10.09/mile)

WoooHooo!

I did it. I’m home. I’ve got the medal to prove it.

Official times aren’t up yet so, while we wait, let’s talk about some other numbers.

(very) Unofficial time 2:11:45
Average Heart Rate over that time 161
Maximum Heart Rate 181 (holy crap!)
Number of sore legs 2

Pictures, stories and the official time up tomorrow.

Yay!

I’ve had this sitting in my drafts folder for a while, publishing it while I’m running seemed right.

Race details will be up as soon as I can formulate some thoughts.

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Our lives are a fairy tale, written by the hand of God. - Hans Christian Anderson

Every so often I question my motivation for keeping up with this blog. I try to make sense of the changes that have occurred between when I started and where I am now. I wonder if I should delete my cringe-worthy old posts, or if I should start over somewhere else, or if I should scrap the whole idea and rest easy, knowing that there is one less thing on my to-do list.

For those of you who don’t know, I started this blog anonymously. I was just beginning to unpack some of The Crazy that I had carried for much of my life and I needed a place to sort it out. I wrote assuming no one would read. It was nothing more than a diary, written for the purpose of separating the truth from the lies with no thought to an audience.

As time passed and the therapeutic effects of truth-telling gave me confidence, I decided that I wanted to share my story. I wanted people to know me and understand me. I swung from maintaining a carefully constructed persona to the queen of over-sharing. People found this place and I had to deal with the consequences of sharing my life on the internet. The fallout taught me to think twice before hitting publish and forced me to weigh my words. As messy as some things became, I can look back and see that this story, my story, continued throughout, evolving and reflecting the changes in me. And even in the mess, there was goodness and light to be found.

I continue to swing between extremes. At each, I try to make sense of this place, try to categorize it. At each extreme I cringe at the thought of letting this place be what it is, a story in process, unapologetically me.

(And, yes, I can see that even this post is an apology of sorts, or at the least an unnecessary explanation. I’m not that blind.)

I still fight the temptation to clean this site up, to delete the old posts and re-hide parts of my life. I was about to do it a while back when I got a comment on a post I had written in December 2006. I went back to read the post and I realized that, as much as I want to delete the past and put it behind me, I need those stories to remind me where I have been.

I try see the archives as monuments, rock cairns built along the road. I read those stories and I say, yes, I remember that. That was me.

But, as I read them I also say, that was me. I am not the same person I was. I don’t have to be that person anymore. I don’t have to think her thoughts or act her ways. I can choose to be bound by her or I can choose to let her go. From the beginning I have talked about freedom, freedom from the lies I constructed, freedom from the habits that enslaved me, freedom from the regrets of my past. As I grow in my understanding of freedom as a choice, I believe that it is always offered, but too often we choose not to accept it. We choose slavery to the things we hate because, although hated, they are understood. Although hated, they contain elements of comfort and control, and we are content to hide behind the facade of peace.

Although we hate it, we continue in slavery because we believe we do not deserve anything better.

My heart aches when I read some of my old posts. It aches at the clumsy ways I tried to care for myself and at the half-hearted attempts I made at freedom. I look at the girl whose life is reflected there and I ache for her, trying to shine in the middle of the dark world she created.

I am not so naive to think that I have arrived - I still have to meet my own eyes in the mirror. But I feel like it is time to build another cairn, to raise a stone and say, “Look. Look what God has done here. Remember this place. Remember where you have come from. Remember where you are going. Remember that this is just another part of the story.”

I hope I look back on this essay in a couple of years and count it among the cringe-worthy posts of old. I hope that my life has changed so much that I ache for the girl I am now, the girl still clumsily caring for herself along the road to freedom, the girl who is still learning to shine.

Twenty-four hours from now I will be running the half-marathon.

I’m psyched. Hyper. Nervous. Giddy. Ready.

I stretched carefully and thoroughly at yoga last night and ran my final 2.8 miles early this morning. Slow and easy, I spent the time praying for good weather. I’m sipping Throat Coat and Elderberry tea again, apparently perfection is too much to ask for.

I’m getting used to that by now.

The pre-race afternoon is all planned. Pick up race packet at the expo, attempt to resist buying gear I don’t need. Early dinner in town and back to the house for some inspiration, Bend It Like Beckham-style. If I get out-voted on the movie option, I also packed Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King and A League of Their Own - movies that make me want to stand up and yell are always helpful. If I can’t sleep I might watch all three.

We’re ready to go.

Let the countdown begin.