Category: Running

Bike rides, Kindergarten, and temper tantrums

Leave a comment

Jon and I shipped Maria and Mario up to Mama Ionno’s house on Friday last week in order for us to celebrate our 8th wedding anniversary.  We celebrated with Mitchell’s steak and lobster and a trip to the bike store to gather some last-minute items for my bike race on Saturday morning.  We got home at 7:30 pm and I was in bed by 9.  Poor Jon – he is such a trooper with these escapades. 

I woke up at 5:45 and got ready for the 100 mile bike race called the Pelotonia (www.pelotonia.org/ride). 

Feeling good on the mountain bike!

The Pelotonia is an annual bike race wherein riders can ride 23 miles, 43 miles, 100 miles, or 180 miles in support of cancer research.  There are respective cash goals you have to meet based on the number of miles you ride.   The 100 mile route runs from Columbus to Athens.  I got to the starting location at 6:15 am and we were off and riding at 7:30 am.  I made the crazy choice to ride my mountain bike (with at least smaller tires than the big ol’ mountain bike tires but still nowhere near the small width of road tires)  but I really didn’t hurt throughout the ride except in one ten-mile stretch from miles 82 to 92.  I had not stopped at the 75 mile rest stop because I was feeling good and I thought there was a rest stop at mile 87.  Unfortunately, there was no rest stop there 87 – it was moved to 92.  Now, you’d think that 5 miles on a bike is nothing to overcome but when you are going up and down rolling hills, have not eaten any breakfast, and have the sun beaming on you, it feels like 1000 miles.  I felt like I have felt when running a race – like time was at a complete standstill.  I finally reached the rest stop at 92 and it was like walking through the gates of heaven.  I chowed on a granola bars, fruit and pretzels.  My body rebounded and pushed me through the last 15 miles with no aches and pains.  I rode through the finish line to see Jon standing toward the side sopping wet (there was a massive downpour for my last 12 miles).  It felt great to have my supporter so close.   

When we got home, Jon pampered me (as all good hubbies should do).  We laid around and fell asleep early.  We were so excited about getting to sleep in since M&M were still with Mama Ionno.  Yet, to my demise, I twisted and turned all night.  It was as if someone kept shooting electrical waves through my body.  I was restless.  Finally, at 7:30 am, I got out of bed and decided to go for a run.  Yeah, a run.  I felt like Atalanta.  I was one with the wind – unstoppable.  It was unreal.  I could have run for 100 miles that morning.  My legs felt strong.  My lungs felt awesome.  Indescribable.

When I got home, I could have cleaned the entire house in 20 minutes.  My body was just charged up ready for the next feat.  Jon’s sole reaction consisted of these words: “You are a freak.”  This “high” lasted until Tuesday when I completely crashed and could not keep my eyes open past 9 pm.  And Wednesday and Thursday and Friday.  It was wonderful while it lasted.

Thumbs Up for K!

Fortunately, I was still on the high on Tuesday morning when Maria had her first day of Kindergarten.  We woke up at 7 am and as soon as she woke up, she popped up out of bed and exclaimed “We go to get ready, mom – NOW!” She got dressed in record time and even brushed her hair after I asked her the very first time.  I planned a big breakfast for her – waffles, cereal, eggs but her excitement would not allow her to sit down so she opted for a cereal bar instead.  We sat on the porch for what was “forever” to Ri (ten minutes) waiting for Aunt Sarah to arrive and we all walked down to K together.  

What mixed emotions that day.  Walking into her classroom and seeing all the kids at the tables, eyes glued down at their desk or up at the new teacher.  Worried, excited, scared.  Some talking with others; some keeping to themselves.  I found myself continuously asking kids that passed us what their names were and pushing Maria towards them stating “Maria, this is Joey. Maria, her name is Hailey.”  I think back to it now and I see how obnoxious that is!  Just let her move into it at her pace.  But there is that pesky mama gene that just wants it all to at least “look” easy and simple and warm and friendly.  Maria twirling around the wildflowers, laughing and loving life.  Yeah, that ain’t what school was always like for me so it will not be for her either.  She will come home sobbing one day and sad that some girl would not talk to her or some boy said something incredibly rude to her.  I did the same to my mom and stepmom and dad when I was in school.  Somehow they pulled me through and I will do the same with Ri.  But, man, it is hard to think about.  She has been sheltered for five years from all of this crazy stuff. 

He just seeps mischievousness!

Mario, on the other hand, will likely have to be peeled off the walls once he hits Kindergarten.  He is so hyper.  He climbs anything.  He runs everywhere.  He screeches.  His teacher is going to say his name way too many times during the day.  IN seriousness, he is a hyper son-of-a-gun but he also can sit still when he wants to (or is required to) and can listen.  It is just if he has the choice he would rather jump, climb, and run all around.  He turns three in a week and he has been exhibiting those lovely age three temper tantrums for the last few months.  They make you want to pack up a small bag and just go far away for a long time.  He kicks and screams and yells at the top of his lungs.  And will not stop.  I left the other morning for a run and when he awoke and I was not there, Jon said he sat on the steps screaming hysterically for 20 minutes.  Maria used to get mad by going to her room and not talking to us.  Mario will never go that route.  He knows that screaming is much more irritating and hard to ignore.  I hope when he turns three next Saturday that there will be a miraculous shift in that behavior and when he does not get his way he will look up at me and whisper “Mom, that upsets me, may we talk about it?”  Someday.

The River

Leave a comment

 Maria and Mario and I have a new Sunday morning routine.  I must say it is awesome.  They stay in their nighties (I really wish I could) saunter into the double stroller, and we head down Grandview hill to Tim Horton’s for a breakfast of donuts and bagels (yes, it is more than this venture that is awesome even though donuts warrant my enthusiasm all the time!). 

Mario enjoying his Tim Horton's (picture by his sis)

After throwing down way too many carbs and way too few nutrients (my cousin Amy would be repulsed!), the munchkins jump back in the stroller (and they do “jump” due to that sugar high) and we head down the street to a bike trail that is tucked away in an inconspicuous part of town – right up against the entrance to a highway and a construction area. 

I had gotten off the highway a few weeks ago and saw a man running down the trail.  I had no idea how far back it went or what is was like along the trail.  But, it was something new and we are always up for that.  Running and walking the same trails every weekend can get old.  We started on the trail and within a minute saw a cat shoot across the trail ahead.  I have to use anything I can some days to keep their interest going so the cat’s presence was perfect. 

“Let’s see if we can find that kitten, you guys!”

“Go, mom, go!”

Within 500 feet, there was a rocky embankment leading down to the river.  It was an oasis for Mario who could not believe the amount of rocks available to him to throw in the water.  I promised we would stop on our way back and we continued on for about another half mile running in an enchanted forest along side giant, grandfather-like trees lining both sides of the trail, their leaves hanging above us shading us from the rising sun.  A gem hidden against the highway.  Eventually, we ran into a “KEEP OUT” sign and fence and had to turn around. 

As I promised, we stopped at the river bank on the ride out.  Maria found a beautiful slender rock for us to take home for our garden.  She knows that I am infatuated with rocks so being the darling, generous girl she is, she finds the best for me.  Mario, on the other, hand, had no desire to find rocks for mom – he was jazzed up with the thought of tossing the rocks into the water.  What a beautiful sight to watch him on the bank, balancing on a jagged rock, right hand clenching a stone, releasing, hearing the “plop!” and witnessing the pure joy on his face of a job well done. 

Maria enjoying the water

Meanwhile, Maria walked on down to the bottom of the embankment and propped her fine self on one of the big rocks that immersed half of itself in the water and half on the bank.  She took off her shoes.  She dipped one foot in the water – then two.  I saw her from the corner of my eye and was tempted to tell her “no” because we are talking about the Olentangy River (not the most pristine of waterways) but decided that the experience was well worth the risk of her feet getting diseased.  Maria has completely different expressions than her brother.  I watched her put her feet in the water, run her hand along the river’s edge, access the rocks near her.  She possesses a deep, rich look.  Most girls her age would be splashing around, laughing, screaming “mom, look!”  But Maria contemplates and weighs and muses.  She is much better than her mother at doing that sort of thing.  She has always had that quality since she was a baby (the “old soul” as my girlfriend called her after meeting her once) but she has probably nourished it since she has to deal with her wild, loud-mouthed brother for two and a half years. 

We gathered a dozed small rocks and went on out way. 

My River Rats

We saw our cat again on the way out and bid him goodbye.  On the way out, we picked some wildflowers for the kitchen.  Traveling up Grandview hill, we decided to visit our neighbor at the fire station (she is a dispatcher) and give her a wild flower to cheer her up.  Maria chimed “I wish we had a red flower since she works at the fire station.” My girl. 

We pulled up to our house, and unloaded our river treasure.  Jon was waiting on the porch to hear the kids’ stories about everything they witnessed on our morning trip.

Sunday Run

2 Comments

Maria hammin' it up

It was 10 am Sunday and we had played barbies, read books, ate cereal, and played “boathouse” when I decided to take a run.  NPR’s “Wait Wait, Don’t Tell Me” is on at 10 am on Sundays and I look forward to a 45 minute run while listening to that show.  Unfortunately, my children wanted nothing of the sort.  They both completely broke down when they saw me changing into my running gear.  

“No, mommy, please don’t run.  Please take us, mommy.”  

Mario enjoying his "horsey"

 

Maria chimed in “You told us no running today, mom.” 

To her credit, she is correct.  I usually say that on Saturday morning when I get up for my Saturday morning workout – “don’t worry, guys, I will not go tomorrow.”  Typically, it works out that I don’t go on Sundays but this was one Sunday that I could get out.  

Within 45 seconds, both of them had huge, heartbreaking tears running down their faces and were clinging to me as if it was my last day with them on Earth.  Jon kept pushing me to go and I wanted to so badly but…  I just couldn’t.  Call me weak, call me a sucker, call me a push-over.  I am probably all of them.  But, I could not leave them.  

So, they asked for it.  They got bundled up, I threw them in the stroller, and we were off.  When we first took off, I was hesitant to go too far because I had not run with them in the stroller for a while and my left IT band is killing me.  But, next thing I know, we are on the bike trail, playing the ABC game and looking at birds chirping up in still bare trees.  We strolled up to Route 33, which I thought would make them yell “That is enough mom” (it is about 2 miles from home) but instead they wanted more so we kept trekking.  We landed at Bicentennial Park with the statues that we used to visit when I worked downtown and they went to school downtown.  

Mario's serious pose

 

Maria remembered all of the statues, she remembered the “Dora Boat” (Santa Maria boat)’ she remembered going on the boat with her dad and me years ago and seeing different zoo animals they were displaying at the same time.  Her memory is amazing, but then again I guess she is only four (almost five!) and does not have nearly as much crud sitting in there as I do!  We played around, climbed on the statues, talked about which animal we would be if we had a choice, met a police officer passing by, and watched the geese and ducks in the river.  Finally, it was time to head back and I just kept praying that my right leg would hold up and that M&M would not pitch a fit half way back screaming that they were hungry or wanted to walk or needed water.  

To my surprise, we all made it.  We were about two blocks away when a clap of lightning stuck and little rain droplets starting falling on our heads.  

“Hurry Mom, we have to get home!  The rain is coming! Go faster!” 

We made it to the porch without getting soaked.  I got a round of “high-fives” when I get M&M out of the stroller and we headed into the house ready for lunch and a long, rainy-day nap.

My non-life plan

1 Comment

I have always been jealous of people who have a life plan.  They have it all set out:

I will go to this school, get this degree, have this occupation, live in this state, get married at this age, have a baby at this next age…. 

I have NEVER had the ability to look five minutes ahead in my life, much less plan for years and years ahead.  I got my law degree eleven years ago.  I had no idea what I was going to do with the degree my last year of school.  Other classmates were interviewing, running around hysterically looking for references, networking at all the events.   I did nothing.  I happened to get a call from a friend of mine who worked at a local law firm as a secretary.  It was April or May, close to graduation, and I told her things were good but no job prospects yet.  She got me an interview at her firm and two weeks letter, I got an offer.  

I have thought about this lately because a young law student asked me where I see myself in five years.  Are you kidding?  I have no fricken’ idea!  I may be in my same job, I may be in my same house, I may have my same bicycle or I may be traveling to Africa to scout out a farm to which we could move (that is a dream and a whole other blog entry)…. 

I fear I may be too whimsical or not able to sit still long enough to figure out a plan.  But I really don’t think that is the case.  I think I simply enjoy living without self-imposed necessities.  “Necessities” because it is not that I don’t have goals for myself. I want to do more community service, I want to travel with Maria and Mario, I want to write more.  But I don’t want to impose on myself that I must make partner at a firm by 2015 or that I must buy a new car by 2016 or that I must publish an article by next year. 

Sar and Mar

Visiting my sis in Oaxaca

A lot of lawyers I know feel they cannot leave the law profession because that is not what they had planned and they would be failures.  Others feel they have to stay in that big house that costs way too much each month because that is what they had planned for themselves, and what would friends think if they moved into that little home out of the burbs? 

I am free of those fears, for the most part (of course, I would be remiss if I did not admit that there are times when I have concerns about what people are thinking when they walk in my home and it only takes 2 seconds to hit every room in it) but overall, I am comfortable with who I am.  I think that comfortableness stems, in part, from my refusal to structure a life plan for myself.  If I have to move from my little Grandview home into some apartment near a dump because I lose my job, so be it.  We will survive.   If my car breaks down and we have to take the bus or walk, so be it.  We will get some exercise.  If I move into a different profession, so be it.  Who is really going to care?

I don’t want to ever feel that my life has to be lived based on some external constraint.  I don’t want to work at a dead-end job that I despise to buy the most stylish shoes or stay in the most expensive home.  It is interesting with kids because they put a slight kink in that desire.  To some extent, you have to work, and maybe in a job that is not ideal, in order to be able to buy the diapers, the milk, the bottles.  But, you don’t have to work in order to buy Gap clothing or the bedroom tv or the nicest bike.   

I see people reasoning their continued employment in a hated job with just that: I have to do it to pay the bills, take care of the kids.  Indeed, I found myself doing it at times.  But, I try to stop myself soon after I begin down that path because in the end, I know I would be miserable.  And what good will I be to the kids at that point?  They would much rather have a stable, happy mother than have three extra barbie dolls (at least I think so!).   

I told the student that I have no idea where I see myself in 5 years except that I hope to have two creative, loving children at my side and a hubby who still makes me laugh and my family and a good pair of running shoes.  She seemed relieved at the answer, and we spent the next half hour just talking about our kids, our love of running, and good movies.