reflections from a wannabe Kenyan

As I near my race date (6 days, people), I find myself pondering.

Why do I run? Am I crazy?

And I find that the answer is... Kind of. I'm only half crazy for now. And yet, I'm still hitting the pavement 4 days a week.

A year ago, I was done. I had hit the wall. I was literally burned out on running. And here I sit, a year later, fully excited for my coming race. I'm nervous, excited, and panicked. Can I really run 13 miles?! Of course I can. I've done it before. I'm fully trained. I can do this. But each time, I wonder at my own ability.

If you had asked me a decade ago, when I turned 30 if I'd be running half marathons when I turned 40, I would have laughed at you! And yet, today, I find that laughter is the best medicine.

I've had this theory for some time now: When running still brings you joy, you keep running. When you've lost the fun, you'll quit. So I give you this photo. My gift to you, dear reader. If you can't laugh like this on a race, no matter how long or short, you may have lost your joy. And if you've never found it, TRUST ME, it's out there. Waiting for you on the road to no where.

Lace up, my friend.

he won at losing.

I'm about to toot a shameless horn about my son. So if you're annoyed by proud parents, now's your time to check out. It's okay, I won't be offended.

Yesterday my son finished his first tackle football season. If you don't know much about my last born, he is our athlete. He loves any game that involves a ball and competition. He gets that from The Man. Remember, I'm not competitive (see last blog post).

This game was not only the last game, it was THE BIG GAME. They were one of two teams left, playing for the city title as champs. The only problem with this game was that many of the players on the opposing team were some of his favorite friends. See, G plays competitive baseball and basketball with a team of boys chosen from different schools. And consequently, several of these boys are on the football team we were playing.

I learned a valuable life lesson from my ten year old son yesterday.

G plays both offense and defense on his team. He can throw a ball like a rock star. Seriously, it sails through the air to ridiculous lengths with a beautiful and tight spiral. He can also run fast. He makes some great plays, with the help of his teammates.

But yesterday, the odds were not ever in their favor (a little reference to The Hunger Games if you're wondering). They lost the game. They were shut down.

And do you know how my son reacted? He ran over to his buddies on the opposing team and he smiled with them and laughed with them. He took pictures with them. He told them, "Good Game!!"

He was the picture of good sportsmanship.

It hasn't always been this way. He has had plenty a loss with tears. But yesterday he told me, "Mom, I was sad at first when we lost. But then Ethan made me laugh, and I realized that I wasn't that upset! I mean, we got beat by a GREAT TEAM! It's not like we lost to a bad team! Plus, they're all my friends! I'm happy for them!"

I could not be more proud. Thank you God, that we're doing something right.

This "number 1" and "number 2" thing was his idea, by the way. That's a humble heart, friends. A heart I love.

a little bitty teeny tiny running mishap

I'm going to let you in on a little secret about runners.

They are hard core.

I'm not hard core about pretty much anything. But I surprise myself every once in a while. And it almost always has to do with running.

So let me set the scene. Today. 5:15 am. I'm running with my trusty little B when we get to a long stretch of empty road. We're heading to our hill that we run up and down every week. And I make a critical mistake. Instead of running in the road (not so safe), I lead us up onto the sidewalk (should be much safer). We're under a canopy of trees and there are no street lights anywhere nearby.

Side note: Recently I asked The Man to get me a head lamp for running in the dark. He laughed at me and told me how ridiculous that was. What a goofball I would look like with it on. Mmmmmm Hmmmmm.

Anywho, back to the story.

I'm running blind. And Brenda and I are having a great conversation about a book we're reading. We're talking about Jesus and having fun when WWWOOOOAAAAAAHHHHHHH!

I realize I've tripped. I'm wobbling. My arms fly out. I'm catching myself. But I'm still in a solid forward motion.

And that's when it happens. I hit ANOTHER lip in the sidewalk. And now I'm realizing: You will not recover from this, Kim. You're going DOWN. I wonder how much this will hurt?

And then, there I was. Flying face first onto the dark sidewalk. I'm thinking I should fall to the grass! Fall to the grass! But it's over to my right and I can't change my projected path mid air! So I hit the ground with my left knee (ouch!) and fall hard on my right thigh (Ouch!). But before I can stop this conundrum of physics, I land on my right BOOB (OUCH!!!). And then I realize that I've attempted to break the fall with my right elbow as well.

As I lay there feeling pain all over my old body, I moan and roll over. I start feeling nauseous. Which I do any time I feel pain or even perceive pain. And right about now, sweet little B starts rubbing all over me. She's telling me I'll be fine. It looked bad. She wished she could have grabbed my arm and caught me (how many times have I caught her before she hit the ground?). And all I can think is: you're so sweet, but stop touching me. I'm going to puke! Of course, because she's being so nice, I'm not saying a word. I'm just moaning. And I'm in a cold sweat. And I realize I have no phone on me. I can't get a ride home. How can I even walk there?

Brenda sits down on the sidewalk next to me. At least she's stopped pawing at me, thank goodness. And then she utters the words every runner wants to hear when they've fallen...

Do you want me to stop your Garmin?

excuse me for a minute while I laugh outloud for a moment.

ahem. OK. I'm better. Back to the story.

I weakly say yes and hand her my arm. And as the color comes back into my face, I realize: where is my phone when I need it?! This is going on the blog for sure and I won't even have a picture of my sorry self.

Now I try to lift my head and I feel leaves and grass under it. Do I have leaves in my hair?, I ask B. Ummmm, yes? she replies. But don't worry. I got all the bugs off of you.

Bugs?

Yah! Did you not feel me touching you? I was picking off all these bugs that were on you!

Well aren't I a piece of work?

And that is when I picked my hard core tail up off the ground and kept running.

Oh yes, I did.

Highlight Run of the Season

You know my friend, Brenda? The small but mighty running partner I have? Yah, recently we gave her a new label under the friendship category. Personal Running Bully.

Let me tell you about my personality. I am recovering type A. And although I can be laid back about many things, I am also a driver in personality. Realtors hate it when I walk in a house, because I leave the tour, assess things quickly, and can know if I am interested in a home in the first 30 seconds. I can walk in and out in 2 minutes, if I don't check myself before being rude. I have a tendency to say things before I think about them. And I'm strong willed. None of these traits make me a bad person. But I have to remind myself sometimes to be quiet. Or still. Or listen.

So to think there's a friend out there that can tell me what to do and I just do it? Seems impossible. I'm the boss! Usually.

So this weekend I had 10 miles to run in my training. And "little B" as our friend Glen calls her, says to me:
Kim! I can't run with you that weekend. I'm running a full. But since you already have 10 miles, you should run the half!! Just think of it as a training run! Run your ten miles and then walk in the last three!

I hemhawed around but the more she said it, the more I bought in. And just like that, I was signed up to run a half, IN TRAINING FOR MY UPCOMING HALF. Am I crazy?!?!

So what did I do?? I enlisted my friend Shawn to come with me!! So here we were, in the dark of morning, freezing our tails off, getting ready to run our "training run" at the HITS half marathon yesterday.

Well, it went well. When I was about 3 miles in I started to actually FEAR, for the first time ever, that I had NO ONE left behind me in this race. Thank God, when I asked a policewoman I passed if there was anyone back there, she laughed and said yes.

So anyway, I felt strong for 6 miles, when my Garmin started to DIE. And it even went well for 9 miles. But once I hit this:

I was mentally OUT. I knew I was done! I had finished 10 miles in 1:54. I was on a good pace. But I'm still in the midst of training and I wasn't prepared to run the last 3 miles ahead of me. So I did what any good runner would do, unless they are an elite athlete or one of my running friends: Brenda, Glen, or Kenny. I popped a Gu. I knew I wasn't running, but I also knew I was out of gas. Mentally and physically.

I made it two more miles before I hit the last water station. There, the sweet high school boy who handed me water said, "It's all down hill from here! Really! You're almost done!"

OK, by now, I've already cried (at mile 9 1/2), and begged Jesus to carry my legs, meanwhile closing my windpipe and almost being unable to breathe. Which almost sent me into a panic attack.

So when I heard his words, I was delirious. I took him literally and could not have been more thankful because the hills on this course were BRUTAL at the beginning. I crested the road ahead of me and looked out to see this:

THE BIGGEST ROLLING HILLS I HAVE EVER SEEN.

So I did what any self respecting person would do at this point, when their legs are shot and their mind is on the edge of sanity. I LAUGHED. It started small but it grew. And I couldn't stop myself. I was belly laughing all alone on this street! And I'm pretty sure if the first aid station had been in earshot they would have come running to get me, the crazy lady, off the course: FAST.

But alas, by now, I'm pretty sure THERE WAS NOBODY LEFT ON THE COURSE BUT ME.

So I walked it in. No more running. I gave up the hope and I walked. Until I was about 2/10th of a mile from the finish, and then I got up on my running legs and ran. Just so I didn't look like a LOSER walking across the finish line.

And then I heard my name on the loud speaker and my friend Shawn was there yelling for me.

I got my medal, and took my frozen butt home. To thaw out and rest my weary body. Thank you Brenda, for your splendid idea. ;)

the offending tree branch revisited

Do you remember the tree branch I encountered in the dark of morning recently? Yah, I saw it on my walk home from the gym this afternoon.

Now, you tell me if you would have seen this in the dark.



I obviously can't get over this.

Your chicken questions answered!

Sweet Beaker. This is what she looked like til about a week ago when she began molting. But now?

Awwwwkward.

Bless. Her. Heart.

But in her defense, she is working on making some new feathers for the winter. Beware, this is a strange sight to see. Don't look if you're squeemish. It kind of grosses ME out and I love these birds like they're my own. Oh wait. They are.

This is one of her bare spots. See those tubes? Those are her new feathers, making their way out. Icky and cool all at the same time, huh?

So now you know. What does it mean for chickens to molt and what does it look like? Besides a bunch of feathers all over Kim's yard.

K

I graduated from the University of Oklahoma in 1995. I'm Sooner born and Sooner bred. And in the 18 years since I finished college, I've had a very eclectic resume. I taught in public school for 3 years, followed by 2 years at a private Catholic school (I'm not Catholic, incidentally). Then I stayed home with my babies for 7 years and when the economy took a nose dive, so did my husband's job. We downsized our home, lived on savings for a year, and mama went back to what she knew best: teaching. It didn't pay the bills, but it helped offset the money hemorrhaging out of our savings account.

Our family goal was for me to never work again after our babies were born. But God had other plans to bless our family. And although I am admittedly the WORST full time working mom on the planet, I am an excellent part time working mom. So last year, after 4 years back in the classroom, I quit my teaching job to stay home and focus on my family. When yet again, God sent me back to the classroom this year.

For the first time in my teaching career, I'm in it for the fun! I work two days a week and it's not for the income, but for the joy of doing what I know and love best.

I've often looked back at my last 4 years and wondered why I was teaching at my sweet little Title 1 school. Was it for the friendships forged with other teachers? For the children I met and loved? Was my testimony on display? Or did I fail at sharing Jesus in a public school forum?

Today I was reminded of one reason I ended up living through that season of my life. It was a boy. Who is now growing into a young man. I can't explain why he was so special. But God pressed him firmly on my heart the minute he entered my classroom. I grew to love seeing this boy each day and trying to pull a smile onto his lips.

His life is not ideal. His parents have made some poor decisions. He was born into poverty. And his story is probably just like the stories of kids all over our nation. But He still resides in my heart. And when he disappeared for 2 months with no word on where he went, I prayed. I got on my knees and asked God to spare him from grief. I prayed safety and protection over this child that I had no idea if I would ever see again. I shed tears over this boy.

And then one day, there he was! He walked back into my classroom like he had never been gone. And I put my public school job on the line. I walked over to him and looked him in the eye. I told him that I was elated that he was back and that I had prayed for his protection while he was gone. I told him that I loved him. And he stared me straight in the eye and said thank you, with the sincerity of all his nine years.

A few weeks later we had some guests come into the building who were volunteering. They were young college kids and the minute they saw this boy, they lit up! As I looked at him smiling and waving back, it hit me. These were people who knew him while he was away. I approached the young man and asked him how he knew this boy. He had been his tutor in the shelter where he was staying for 2 months. And then I did it again. I took hold of this man's arm and I looked him in the eye. "I prayed for you! I prayed that wherever this child was that he was being interacted with by people who would love him and take care of him! That's YOU!" I said. He blushed and got flustered, muttering thank you, as he walked away.

I LOVED THIS CHILD.

So you can imagine my joy when I ran into him at the local city football league games today. I hugged him. He hugged me back. And I was the first to let go.

He looks good. Healthy. I'm not really sure HOW he is, because he has always been one of few words. I'm not sure who he lives with. But you can bet that my prayers have never ended for that child. And they never will. I just hope the next time I see him that I'm the last to let go.

clumsy smurf is my cousin

Have you ever read the sidebar description of me? It says I'm clumsy.

All day I've been trying to remember to blog about something that happened to me this morning but it wasn't until I almost tripped on my own feet just now that I remembered.

Let's start at the very beginning. I've been getting up very early to run lately. I wake up at 4:51 am (that is not a typo) and meet my trusty little sidekick, Brenda, to run 3 miles, three times a week. I was really tired this morning. But let's be honest, sometimes I yawn while I run that early. And almost every day I'm exhausted, but I get up and do it anyway.

Well we were about 2.5 miles into our run, literally coming down the home stretch. Have I mentioned how DARK it is during the 5:00 hour? It's DARK. And when cars pass us, we get blinded.

We were running on a sidewalk that normally trips us up, literally. It's got parts that jut up and trip you in the light. Which is no bueno in the dark. But I was confident. We were almost home, I had a good pace, I felt great. I even thought I should pick my feet up a little so in case I hit a snare, I'd be high above and un-trippable. (Is that a word? My computer is saying no.)

I could see our turn coming up, with a big street lamp illuminating the way. Yes, we were almost done. The path was clear and life was good.

And then this flowering tree branch jumped out and smacked me in the face. I swear to you, there was not one low lying tree ahead. There was nothing in the path of my 5'10" frame. EXCEPT that SINGLE flowering branch slithering out in the dark.

How do I know it was a flowering branch? Well, when my eye hit it at full running speed while it was WIDE OPEN, I caught a little flower in my eye. YES. I DID.

I was blinded! It stung! And worse yet, I was still wearing yesterday's makeup, so the watery day-old mascara was starting to do it's own magic on my offended eye. OUCH!! OUCH!! I can't see, Brenda!!

So what do you think I did? Like a true runner, I picked back up and started running. ONE EYED. Oh yes, I did. I ran in the dark, with one eye closed, for a half mile.

I was feeling pretty confident close to her house. So confident that I turned down her street, wondering why she wasn't following. OH, that would be because I HAD NO DEPTH PERCEPTION NOW AND I WAS ONE STREET TOO SOON FROM HER HOUSE.

Oh yes. I'm an amazing one eyed runner.

THIS was my highlight run of the week, folks.

my feathered flock

I haven't talked about the girls lately, have I?

Well let me tell you, those birds are still one of my joys! When I come outside, they come running! They gather around me and peck lightly at my toes. They coo. And they love.

They've been giving me about 26-28 eggs a week all summer, even in the heat! So you can imagine my surprise last week when I went out to check for eggs and I found..... none. Not one! Hmmm, I pondered. And my mind raced to all the reasons that could be.

Maybe there's a snake who has finally found their coop and is eating their eggs before I got there? Maybe they have all gone broody? Maybe it's just an off day.

I follow several blogs on urban and rural farming of chickens, and I've been reading lately about it being the season to "molt." I knew they lay less, if any during this time. But I hadn't seen any signs of molting besides a lack of eggs. And then two days ago I looked out on my backyard. Had it snowed last night? Surely not, since we live in Oklahoma and it's September.

Holy moly, the girls are molting.

Do ya SEE all the feathers in my yard?? Check out the one at the top of this story. Are you seeing the feathers now?? Yah. They are there. WE are there. Looks like I may have to buy some eggs from Dodson's soon. But hopefully it won't last long.

Kim's HROTW

It's time for my highlight run from last week. Except this time I have no good story, no great picture, and no glory to share. But I'll have it known that I ran 8 miles on Saturday. And then I went to the OU game and walked another mile + to and from the stadium. And I walked up those AWFUL stadium steps to get to our seats in the sky. And all of that is worth something, right?

My legs sure felt it. Good thing we had amazing weather.