Blog Like a Girl

Inspired

Sun, 5 Dec 2010 13:44:13 -0600

The story of 16-year-old cross country runner Holland Reynolds hit the national news this week. In case you didn't see it, you can read about Holland here or click on the video on the right to watch what she did that has people all over the country talking.

I've heard Holland referred to as "amazing" and "inspiring", and she certainly is those things. However, you have to know the backstory to understand why Holland dug in so deep in order to finish the race (albeit on her hands and knees). Her coach, Jim Tracy, was diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's disease (ALS) earlier this year. An accomplished runner and coach, he is no longer able to run with his team, and often must sit in a chair during practice. ALS is progressive and fatal; affected individuals will eventually lose almost all voluntary motor function. The division championship where this race took place had been won by Tracy's team seven times previously, placing them in a tie with one other school for the most titles for any school, division or gender. The team wanted to win an eighth title for their beloved coach. If Holland wasn't able to finish, there would be no eighth title.

I've talked before in my DDOS blog about the fallacy that a person's worth can be judged based on their ability to be productive. Without a doubt, Jim Tracy will eventually be profoundly disabled and is probably already much less productive today than he was 5, 10, or 20 years ago. It could be argued, of course, that even in his reduced physical state, he is continuing to shape the abilities of the young people on his cross country team, and therefore he is still being "productive." Having strong high school runners isn't going to net you coverage on all of the major news outlets and hundreds of thousands of hits on YouTube, however. On this day, Holland Reynolds actually failed miserably at the thing she was coached to do (that is, to run fast). She continued to move, however, because she was INSPIRED. She finished the race for Jim Tracy the Person, not Jim Tracy the Coach.

I have a marathon coming up in five weeks (my first since Nathan was born), and although my training has gone pretty well overall, there have been some days that didn't go well. Yesterday was one of those days. I was running 18 miles, and somewhere around mile 13 I started to struggle. As I always do, I played mental games with myself until about mile 16, at which point I knew I could finish. With just over a mile to go, the Christina Aguilera remix version of the Disney song "Reflection" came on (in case you aren't familiar with the song, I used it as the background music for my video of Sarah Kate here). I cranked it up and set the song to repeat until I was finished with my run. As I ran, I could see the video played over and over in mind, and I picked up my pace. When I checked my Garmin at the end of the run, I saw that I had run that last mile+ at a pace over a minute and a half faster per mile than I had run the first seventeen.

Sarah Kate wasn't there with me yesterday. She doesn't know the first thing about racing or training or fueling or pace. She doesn't even have the ability to run across the backyard. What she does have the ability to do, though, is INSPIRE.

I believe we all need a little inspiration in our lives. I know where mine comes from. What about you?

~ Cross posted at Double Dose of Special ~

On His Own Timetable

Sun, 31 Oct 2010 20:14:12 -0500

Today was the thirty-fifth running of the Marine Corps Marathon in the metro D.C. area. The 2009 Marine Corps Marathon (MCM) was the last marathon that I ran, and it was the day that I announced to the world that I was pregnant. My friend Katie found out when she picked me up at the airport in Baltimore two days earlier, while my family received letters in the mail on Saturday afternoon. I typed a lengthy post before I flew up to BWI, and Mr. Andi posted it for me during the race on Sunday. I was 16 weeks pregnant at the time, and the medal I earned that day hangs in Nathan's room instead of with my other race medals.

A lot of my running friends were doing the MCM today and I kept up with them via our online forum home, Facebook, runner tracking, and the live video feed on the MCM website. The race started at 8am ET and at around 2:30, several of us were watching and tracking together (virtually) when the video switched to a man in a yellow singlet accompanied by another man carrying an American flag. They were obviously at the back of the pack. The man in yellow didn't appear to be doing very well, and we all hoped he would finish, as those of us who had run the course before knew he still had a ways to go. All of our runners made it in (we celebrated!), but we continued to watch the live feed. At around 3:30, we saw two different runners in front of a police car and we got a little sad, thinking they were the last runners on the course and that the man in the yellow singlet hadn't made it. The road was completely empty of runners, yet the camera didn't switch to the finish line shots, and we were getting a little aggravated.

Suddenly, the camera started moving backwards down the course, but there still weren't any runners. We kept watching and then, in the distance, we spotted a flag! Slowly, our yellow singlet runner and his flag-toting companion came into focus, an hour and ten minutes after we had first spotted him. We began a forum-posting frenzy, cheering on this man we didn't know. He stopped and started what seemed like a hundred times and his body was, for lack of a better description, lopsided. We looked up his race number and learned that his name was Bob Dolphin, he was from Renton, WA, was 81 years old, and a former Marine. His yellow singlet identified him as a Marathon Maniac, so within minutes we had learned that he began running in his 50s and has completed 475 marathons (for more on Bob, click here). The flagbearer's name was Ray (per his shirt) and he appeared to be the designated escort to the last place runner. We all sat glued to our monitors, posting messages to each other on the forum, as Bob struggled to finish. In the final stretch of the race, Bob was flanked by Marines on each side, and Ray handed the flag to Bob, who took it across the finish line at 4:06 ET. I wept. My friends wept. It was gut wrenching to watch. It was inspiring.

After watching the MCM finish, I went out to do my own long run (mercifully shorter than Bob's), and as I was running I thought a lot about Bob. Most people wouldn't expect an 81 year old man to run one mile, and certainly no one would expect him to be able to run 26 miles. Many faster runners would look down their noses at anyone who would take eight hours to complete a marathon. But Bob did the marathon, and he did it on his own timetable. Other than my friends, I couldn't name another individual who ran the marathon today. Bob reminded me of special kids. They don't do things the way other people to do, and they won't meet the typical timetables in a lot of areas. But they will persevere and meet their goals, and those goals will be all the sweeter just for the attempt.

Semper fi, Bob.

The Queen of the Negative Split

Mon, 4 Oct 2010 08:59:13 -0500

As you can see, I’ve got some new bling. In the past 72 hours, I slept 6 hours on Friday night and 4 hours on Saturday night, drove 7+ hours twice, visited two WDW theme parks, and ran a half marathon through the other two theme parks. So...I’m tired. I’ll try to do a race report later.

In the meantime, I just checked my official time for this weekend’s Inaugural Wine & Dine Half Marathon. For some reason, they tacked on an extra second since Sunday morning (hmmm....), but I’m still pretty pleased with how I did. I wanted to come in under 2:30 (I didn’t make it), but I also was helping to pace a friend to a PR in the half (she did make it), so I’ll take it.

Here are my splits:
5K - 37:12 (12:00 pace)
10K - 1:13:52 (11:55 pace)
15K - 1:48:47 (11:42 pace)
Finish - 2:30:29 (11:29 pace)

So if I’ve done my math right, that gives me a 12:00 average pace for the first 5K, an 11:46 pace for the second 5K, an 11:15 pace for the third 5K, and a 10:58 pace for the final 3.8 miles. To look at it another way, I averaged a pace almost one minute/mile faster on the back half of the race than on the front. Since I ran my first marathon two years ago, I’ve run a negative split at almost every race, and when I haven’t, it was a conscious decision.

Long live the queen!

The Lazy Marathoner

Fri, 17 Sep 2010 12:22:29 -0500

Just last week, I was listening to a recent episode of the Run to Disney podcast. I’ve known Gordon, the show’s host and a fellow Alabamian, since he started the podcast a couple of years ago. At that time, he was a good bit heavier and much slower than he is now, and he was running his first marathon at Walt Disney World (I was running the Goofy Challenge). We started the 2009 WDW Marathon in the same corral, and I saw him again in the Magic Kingdom at just past the halfway point. I don’t know what his official time was, but I do know that I finished ahead of him by something like 30-40 minutes. As of today, Gordon is now many pounds lighter (I’m not sure of his weight loss total), has just finished his first triathlon, has become a vegan, and is gunning for a BQ. Impressive, right?

Anyway, I was listening to the podcast and he was talking about bonking in the marathon and training to avoid the bonk. He connected with a great trainer last year, Megan of the Run Vegan Run podcast, and he tributes most of his success to her influence. His long runs are now in the 8-minute per mile range (that means he’s looking at a sub-4:00 marathon). Clearly, he’s way ahead of me now. So of course I am listening to him talk and thinking for a minute that maybe I could BQ somewhere down the road, or maybe I could do this or that - all I have to do is get serious about my training, right?

Well, those thoughts lasted about ten minutes. Not that I wouldn’t like to run Boston, as I, like pretty much every marathoner, want to run Boston. When it gets right down to it, though, I’m lazy. I’ve shared that fact with people before - usually in the context of explaining how pretty much anybody who has the ability to run can do a marathon - and I’m always greeted with a look of disbelief. Why, that can’t be right! Anyone who chooses to go out and run 26 miles can’t be lazy! Maybe I’m not lazy in the way that most people think of lazy - I’m not a worthless kind of lazy - but I am lazy as far as training goes. I always have a training plan, and I always stick to the plan, but there are lots of elite and not-so-elite runners who would tell you that my plans are full of junk miles (and they’re probably right). I don’t do speedwork. I don’t run hills. I don’t do tempo runs. I just...run. And I only run three days per week. And I don’t bike or swim on the other days, although I do strength train, but that’s mostly for my upper body and core, so it probably doesn’t count as “real” cross-training.

So, yes, I am a lazy marathoner, but it suits me - at least for now. I’ve never bonked in a race. I have achieved a negative split in almost every endurance race I’ve ever run (only exceptions being if I was running with someone else and chose not to do so). I’m satisfied with that - at least for now. Maybe one of these days when I don’t have an infant son at home I’ll train a lot harder and get a lot faster, but I doubt it. It’s just not me. I’d rather be the lazy marathoner.

My Love-Hate Relationship with the Baby Jogger

Wed, 18 Aug 2010 09:05:17 -0500

One of the big reasons why I like running skirts so much is because of the ability to cram tons of “stuff” into the pockets - gels, MP3 player, iPhone (if the pocket is sturdy enough), keys, etc. I absolutely despise having to carry anything in my hand - water bottle included. Down here on the gulf coast where it’s so brutally humid (it really is a different kind of hot here than anywhere else I have lived), it’s not a great idea to go out running in the summer without water, but because I hate carrying things so much, I stash water bottles behind bushes and/or pick routes that carry me close enough to golf course bathrooms with water fountains so that I don’t have to carry water. I can’t even stand to carry those little 8-ounce bottles. So it would stand to reason that having to keep my hand on the Baby Jogger might aggravate me.

Gone are the days when I could just drop Sarah Kate off at school and head out for a run unencumbered. Now I have to bring Nathan and the Baby Jogger with me, plop his car seat into the Baby Jogger, strap it down, and head out. Loading the jogger in and out of my car trunk isn’t much fun, either, because while it does fold down, it’s still quite bulky (and it definitely isn’t lightweight). The worst part, though, is that it is pure torture to push that thing. The wheels glide smoothly, so no complaints there. The brakes work fine, so no complaints there, either. Pretty much everything works as it was intended, and it really is a great invention, except for one thing: I can’t stand to have my hand on it when I am running.

For some reason, I can never get into a good groove while pushing it. BOTH of my arms want to swing, but only one is allowed to do so at any given time. I’ve tried pushing with one hand and I’ve tried pushing with both hands (Nightmare! I felt like my legs weren’t working right!) What I always end up doing is alternating back and forth between my left and right hand every few minutes (ok, not really every few minutes - it’s probably more like a few seconds). It’s enough to make a three mile run seem like twenty. I silently curse the Baby Jogger as I move down the road.

There is one really wonderful thing about the Baby Jogger, though. When I put my little guy in it, I can see his sweet face looking up at me. For the first five minutes or so of the run, he looks intently at his surroundings as we plod along. For the next five minutes, he continues to look around, but his gaze is interrupted by heavy eyelids, closing for longer than a blink. After those first ten minutes, his eyes close completely and he’s down for the count. At that point, I get to watch his sweet face as he sleeps for the rest of the run. Awesome.

Cross posted at doubledoseofspecial.blogspot.com.

Just Keep Swimming, Part 3

Sun, 18 Jul 2010 17:01:36 -0500

I missed Sarah Kate’s third swim meet because I was out of town. Mr. Andi was there, as were my mom and stepdad and (as always - bless his heart!), the baby. Her times didn’t improve much, but she did swim the full length of the lane during the freestyle without grabbing onto the lane rope at all, so that was good. She finished third in one of her heats, which meant she got a coupon for a free Fla-Vor-Ice (we won’t talk about the fact that there were only three girls in the heat). The bigger news was that at practice on Friday morning, she was awarded “Best Effort” for her performance the night before. She was very proud of herself, and I was happy to see that despite her slow speed and three week absence she was truly considered a member of FAST (Fairhope Area Swim Team). The next week, at the last practice of the season, the coaches gave out a few awards. Sarah Kate received “Most Inspirational” and while I was very proud of her, there was a tiny little part of me that felt that maybe she won that award as a consolation prize for being so painfully slow.

The final meet of the season was the big City Meet with all of the area teams. It was a two-day (Fri/Sat) championship with the 10-and-unders swimming in the morning and was held in Gulf Shores (about 40 minutes away including the Chick-fil-A drive-thru pit stop). Mr. Andi took Friday morning off so we could all load up and head down there. When her 25 free event came up, I was ready with the camera at the end of the lane, doing my best not to get in the way of the timers yet still be where I could yell and hopefully have her hear me (and all the while trying very hard not to drop my camera in the water). Coach Meredith, Mr. Andi, and I screamed and yelled and cheered her on. She finished last, as usual, but while she was swimming I thought to myself “she seems faster today.” As soon as she touched the wall, I looked up. 1:02.98. My initial instinct was that it couldn’t be right, then that my eyes were failing me and I really need a check-up. Then I heard the timer say “Wow! You improved your time by 28 seconds!” OMG!!! It was true! I rode the high for the rest of the day.

On day two of City Meet we got up early and schlepped the baby and all of his stuff back down to Gulf Shores. Sarah Kate had stayed up late the night before and was dragging, unlike the first day when she was excited and pumped. I really wanted her to beat her previous backstroke time, but I wasn’t feeling optimistic. She had been harassing me for two weeks to let her have the Toy Story 3 Wii game, so I decided maybe a little bribe was in order. We did our pre-heat pep talk (“What’s your motto?” - “Finish Strong!”) and then I asked her how badly she wanted the TS3 game. She looked at me tentatively and then I told her “If you beat your backstroke time, we’ll get it for you TODAY.” She first got excited, then asked me what would happen if she didn’t beat it. The truth was that we were going to get it, anyway (hence the emphasis on the word “today”), but I didn’t answer her. As we headed over to the clerk of course, I noticed how many people wished her luck and high-fived her on the way.

I took up my station at the end of the lane again, and decided I would be much more aware of her time during the backstroke heat. When she was near the midway point, she was under 30 seconds. I tried not to think about what that might mean, knowing that she would probably lose some steam at the end. When her hand touched the wall, I looked up. 54 seconds. Under a minute. OMG!!! I grabbed her up and gave her a huge hug - not caring one iota that I would be soaked.

The previous day, I had talked to Coach Rich, the owner and head man at SWAT, a local year-round swim team. Typically, year-round swim teams are traveling teams and are more competitive, so I wasn’t sure how he would feel about having a disabled kid on his team. I shouldn’t have worried. Not only was he receptive to the idea, but he wrote down both of her heat times and made a point of coming over to congratulate her after her backstroke heat. I told two of her current coaches, Brittany and Meredith, that I was going to sign her up for SWAT and they said “That’s fine, but you HAVE to come back to FAST next year.” They weren’t teasing, either. Both Coach Brittany and Coach Meredith had deadly serious looks on their faces when they said it. It was at that moment that all of my pre-season worrying that they would consider her a burden was completely unfounded. Not only was she not a burden, but they wanted her back.

Reflecting on the meet, I started flashing back to all of the people - swimmers, parents, and coaches - who had congratulated her or wished her luck. In a world where people often don’t know what to say or fear that they’ll break her if they touch her, THIS GROUP GOT IT. She’s just a regular kid who can’t walk very well or swim very fast. I realized suddenly that the “Most Inspirational” award wasn’t a consolation prize or a prop to fit the narrative of the disabled swimmer. She really was an inspiration - not just to the other swimmers, but to the other parents, as well. It was through her efforts that others were inspired to work hard and to do their best.

We left after Sarah Kate’s heat, so I don’t know if FAST won the city meet this year or not. I’ll find that out later today when we go to pick up her rainbow-colored participant ribbons. What I do know is that the 10-and-under kids, who swam in the morning heats, kicked butt and FAST was leading before the older kids swam in the afternoon. The 10-and-unders are the kids who practice with Sarah Kate every day. Truthfully, it’s probably not Sarah Kate’s influence that helped them to succeed, but what if it were?

One thing I do know - she inspires me.

Just Keep Swimming, Part 2

Sat, 17 Jul 2010 12:41:34 -0500

Anyone who knows me or has read my blog for awhile knows I am a fan of Disney. Of all the Pixar movies that have been made to date, “Finding Nemo” is my favorite. I love the fact that they made a movie that centered around a kid with a disability, even if that kid was a fish. I love, also, how they gave many of the characters some sort of impairment - short term memory loss, allergies, addiction, obsessive-compulsive disorder, etc., but that the film isn’t inherently about disabilities. I don’t have near enough time or space to delve into all the many reasons why I love the film, so I’ll just say this: one of the overarching themes of the movie is “just keep swimming”

Sometimes it’s good to have a kid who knows no limits. Sometimes it’s tough, though, to be the mom of that kid - the person that knows the reality of the limits. It’s tough to think in my head “I know she can’t do that. Should I let her try it anyway?” My typical instinct is to let her go for it, but just to be ready to pick up the pieces at the end. When it comes to physical challenges with Sarah Kate, I’ve taught her one thing - to finish strong. It is the motto she lives by when she attempts a foot race and when she goes to a swim meet. I’ve told her time and again that it doesn’t matter where you place, because as long as you finish strong, you will continue to best yourself.

Sarah Kate missed three weeks of swim practice in June, due to being in Birmingham for intensive physical therapy. We returned home on a Friday and there was a meet on Saturday - the GCAAL Junior Championships. Swimmers from all area teams were to compete, but there were maximum qualifying times in order to push the awards down to the swimmers who don’t usually get to shine (yes, that’s a fancy way of saying that it’s a meet for the slower kids). I wasn’t too sure how well she would do, but my friend Crystal and her kids had plans to come over (a 90-minute drive) to see her, so we were committed.

It was brutally hot. I now knew the swim mom drill, but we hadn’t yet invested in a tent to protect us from the sun. We arrived early enough to grab a table under an awning, and Sarah Kate headed to her warm-up. Coach Meredith worked with her on jumping into the pool (a new skill that her fabulous PT, Carrie, had helped her with during the three weeks of therapy) - already an improvement over the intrasquad meet where she started in the water.

The 25 yard backstroke event rolled around and we had a little pep talk. The heat wasn’t full, so she was starting in one of the middle lanes. No meltdown this time (progress!) Mr. Andi, Crystal and the kids, and I cheered and screamed, along with Coach Meredith who had run from the start block all the way around to provide encouragement. For a short time, I thought she might actually beat another girl in her heat, but she faded a little at the end and wasn’t able to pull it out. Coach Meredith shouted excitedly after seeing her time, however, that she had bested her previous time by 10 seconds, finishing in 1:16.32. I couldn’t contain my joy! A short time later she swam the 25 yard freestyle, and while she didn’t improve her time at all (actually lost a second), she did so much better than she had done previously because she swam the crawl the whole length (as opposed to interpreting freestyle as “free to get to the other end in any way you can, even if it is backstroke”).

Although she was still last in both of her events, Sarah Kate showed me at that second meet that she was capable of so much more in swimming than I had previously thought possible. She continued to “just keep swimming”, despite the obstacles, and shattered my low expectations. But the best was yet to come...

Just Keep Swimming, Part 1

Fri, 16 Jul 2010 11:53:23 -0500

When The Girl came home in the spring proclaiming that she wanted to be on the swim team, I didn’t quite know what to say. The head coach was the P.E. teacher at her school and had apparently talked it up the week before registration. Initially, I didn’t even mention it to Mr. Andi because I was sort of hoping the fever would pass. A week or so went by, though, and she was still bringing it up, so we decided to talk to the teacher/coach. She knows Sarah Kate well and she was very encouraging. I was convinced, Mr. Andi was convinced, and The Girl was excited. I figured we would skip the meets and maybe she’d get a little better at swimming. I have taken her to the pool myself in the past, but with the baby it’s much tougher, so I figured we would come out ahead even if it were just extra exercise.

The first couple of weeks of practice were rough. She was placed in the 7-10 year old training group, which put her way behind the curve - partly because of the cerebral palsy and partly because of her age. She had lost a lot of the confidence she’d had in the water since last season, and to top it all off, many of those early days were marred by thunderstorms at practice time. They don’t skip practice in a storm, choosing instead to do land-based exercises which weren’t much fun for her (mostly because she couldn’t do a lot of them). When they were able to swim, she was always in lane 1 (where she would stay for the duration of the season) with the wall in easy reach at all times. The coaches worked patiently with her to get her over the fear that had suddenly gripped her when she saw how long a 25 yard lane actually is, and mom sat nervously on the bleachers, trying to distract myself with caring for her baby brother.

At morning practice on the day of the first meet, she decided she wanted to swim in the meet that evening. It was an intrasquad practice meet, and all of the swimmers were placed on either a yellow or blue team. Since we had registered late and never intended to do meets, anyway, I had not ordered her a team suit. Although I knew it wasn’t absolutely necessary, I drove to the local supplier and - miracle! - they had one suit in stock in the team pattern that happened to be her size. I shelled out my $50, not knowing if she would ever wear it again, in the hope that just having the suit would help her to feel more a part of the team.

We arrived at the meet and I felt completely unprepared. I didn’t know what was going on and it showed. Her coach asked me which lane to put her in - 8 or 1. I knew that lane 1 would have the wall, but she could duck under the lane 8 rope and have steps available to climb out, so I chose 8. Big mistake. Complete and total meltdown ensued, because she knew there would be no wall for security. I pried her off of me, tried to calm her down, and walked myself and the baby back over to the coach to get the lane changed. Sigh.

Much like the races she has done in the past, that first swim meet was bittersweet. I was so proud of her for trying, but it’s very hard to watch her being so far behind the other kids. She stuck it out, though, and finished both events - 25 yard backstroke in 1:26.38 and 25 yard freestyle in 1:34.89. She was so far behind in the backstroke that she actually ended up having a lot of extra people cheering for her. My belief is that some of the parents were sitting there wondering why the next heat wasn’t starting, looked around and thought “Holy Cow! There’s a kid still out there! I hope she doesn’t drown! Go Girl Go!” Another bonus (for me, anyway) was that a young boy in the event before hers had a meltdown in the middle of the pool and had to be rescued by one of the coaches. Yes, I did feel bad for him, but I considered it a victory that Sarah Kate wasn’t That Kid.

At the end of the day, Sarah Kate found herself on the yellow team - the winning team. She did a little trash talking the next day at practice, and I was happy with what she had already achieved. Little did I know at the time, but she would do more this summer than I dreamed possible.

A Little Happy

Tue, 8 Jun 2010 12:30:32 -0500

It’s amazing the little things in life that can bring a smile to your face.

Back in 2002, when I was expecting Sarah Kate, I did something that most first-time moms do - I registered for baby stuff. One of the items that I registered for was a Fisher Price Kick & Play bouncer. In addition to the typical vibrating seat, the bouncer also had a toy bar with lights, songs, and sound effects. It had two modes: baby-activated or continuous play. The way that it worked was when the baby would kick his/her legs, the lights and sounds would come on. Pretty cool, huh? I was thrilled when my in-laws gave it to us as a gift.

Unfortunately, baby-activated mode never worked for Sarah Kate. It wasn’t defective or anything like that - my baby just couldn’t activate it. From birth, Sarah Kate’s little legs were so tight and weak that she was never able to summon the strength needed to make the lights and sounds come on. We only used it in continuous play mode, and when my sister had a baby a few years later I passed it on to her.

When my sister found out I was pregnant last fall, she committed to sending many of her baby things to me, as I had long since given away everything that I had. Among the items she gave me were two bouncers - one of which was the Fisher Price Kick & Play. Because some friends had given us a brand new Fisher Price bouncer, we decided to keep it and give away the Kick & Play to our local crisis pregnancy center. I stuck it in the corner in Baby Nate’s room until I could make the time to do it.

Now, Baby Nate is the sweating-est baby I’ve ever been around (according to my mother-in-law, Mr. Andi was the same way as a baby). It doesn’t help that we live down here on the gulf coast in humidity central. The other of the two bouncers that my sister had given me is covered in fleece fabric, and recently Scott suggested that we give it back to my sister and keep the Kick & Play instead. I agreed - that fleece makes me hot just to look at it these days, and I don’t think I could bear putting Baby Nate in it all summer. The crisis pregnancy center could wait for the Kick & Play a few more months, I figured.

A couple of days ago, I put Baby Nate in the Kick & Play for a minute so I could get his bottle ready and decided to try the baby-activated mode. He’s still pretty young so I really had no idea if it would work. He started kicking right away and the lights and sounds came on. His face got into The Zone and he was clearly watching what was going on. He stopped moving for a minute and the lights and sounds stopped. He kicked again and again came the lights and sounds, which he watched intently. I completely forgot about the bottle for several minutes while I watched him, Kicking-&-Playing to his heart’s content.

I was ecstatic and I think I grinned for the rest of the afternoon, but it’s hard for me to explain exactly what the big deal was about the Kick & Play. I guess in some little corner of my mind, Baby Nate’s diagnosis of Down syndrome somehow seems “worse” than his big sister’s diagnosis of cerebral palsy. What I realized, though, with the Kick & Play, is that it’s not worse - just different. She is brilliant and may graduate from Harvard with honors (although I hope not, because I can’t afford Harvard!), but she may never be able to jump rope. As for him, it’s unlikely that he’ll attend college, but jump rope might be a favorite pastime for him. There’s no way to know.

For now, I’ll take my Little Happy.

Bookin’

Thu, 3 Jun 2010 21:27:01 -0500

I’m ashamed that it’s taken me so long to post The Girl’s last race report. I guess since I didn’t run myself that day it just wasn’t high on my list of things I needed to accomplish. Bookin’ 4 Books was a small local “inaugural” race held on April 24 to benefit the school libraries. As such, it was heavily promoted in Sarah Kate’s school. There were two events: the 5k Plot Trot and the 1 Mile Pun Run (not a typo - we are incorporating book themes here!) Sarah Kate insisted that she wanted to do the Pun Run. I wasn’t too sure about it, knowing I would be just a few weeks postpartum and recalling the last 1 mile fun run we tried to do - it was over the advertised distance of 1 mile by a great deal; I ended up cutting part of the course and also carrying her for a portion; apparently the race organizers didn’t know enough about fun runs to realize that finisher ribbons for young children are a MUST. However, I told her she could do it as long as she was willing to train for it.

My first steps back into running after my c-section weren’t running steps at all. At one week postpartum I started pushing the stroller around the neighborhood, and if Sarah Kate wasn’t at school she would walk with me. She brought along her iPod Shuffle and tried to keep ahead of me. If I stopped to talk to a neighbor, she would keep right on going. The route we took in our neighborhood was about a mile long, and she finished the full mile on a few occasions. I figured she was ready.

As it turned out, the weather was horrendous in the early morning hours of race day, and I wasn’t convinced that the Pun Run was even going to take place. Just after 8:00, though, it cleared up somewhat and we headed out. My dad and stepmom (“Papa and Bebe”) were in town so we all loaded up (Baby Nate included) and drove over to the start. Sarah Kate was outfitted in her favorite running outfit - a SkirtSports running skirt and blue top (the same color combo typically sported by MarathonAndi at races when I am not running pregnant and just happy to find something that fits). I gave the usual pep talk about it not being important where you finish as long as you “Finish Strong” and we were off.

The course was almost completely flat and was a direct out-and-back on a two lane road. The good thing about the out-and-back was that we were able to see the faster runners coming back toward us and cheered them as they went by. The bad thing about the out-and-back was that it was painfully obvious (at least to me) how slow we were. We reached the orange cone marking the turnaround point and headed back toward the school. Sarah Kate had slowed down somewhat, but was still moving steadily along.

I noticed after a few more blocks that the police cars that were redirecting traffic at the end of the course and the side streets began to fall in line behind us we went by. By the time we rounded the turn into the school parking lot toward the finish, there were at least five police vehicles escorting us in. As Sarah Kate approached the home stretch, she picked up the pace, crossing the finish with a time of 24:57 and extending both arms in the air in victory. There weren’t a lot of people left at the finish when she got there, but every single one of them was yelling for her. Her school librarian was especially excited - Sarah Kate had told her that she planned to run, but Mrs. Normand wasn’t too sure. The librarian from the school Sarah Kate will attend next year was also cheering, with a few tears in her eyes.

As for me, I just beamed. The first few races were tough for dear ol’ mom - pain and pride mixed together in a messy heap of emotions - but this time there was just pride in my little girl’s accomplishment.