Running For My Life

These past few weeks, my focus has been on diet, exercise and lowering my blood pressure.  I've sloughed off some bad habits and I'm trying to adopt new, healthier ones.  When my blood pressure reached the 160's over low 100's back in June, my doctors were very concerned.  They even uttered the words silent killer to me and that really freaked me out.  I've been working to correct my BP with medications, diet and exercise.  It hasn't been easy for this gal.

Middle Road sunrise during my two mile runs
The light is so golden and beautiful right now

Putting 10 mile Sunday hike dates on my calendar has really helped me start the week off right.  Once that's logged, I plan meals and future exercise dates with myself on my calendar.  I have to do this or I would just skip it.  I'm beginning week three and this is where I usually lose steam, but I've joined a private fitness group on Facebook (with friends that I know locally) and it's been a nice, encouraging little nudge throughout the week to help keep me focused and accountable.

My blood pressure is 129/87 as of last Friday and I've lost .3 pounds.  The BP news was fantastic and I feel relieved that something is working to lower it (even if it's that damned medication!).

Much Ado About Sebastopol :: Renaissance Faire
Up-close falcons - sword fighting lessons - leather necklace making :: win, win, win

My boy has been totally in love with the 5th grade.  Oh, I remember my 5th grade year and I, too, was smitten with growing up, fashion and new playground dynamics.  He's quite in love with looking at himself in the mirror and asking me is this cool, mom? as it relates to his hair, clothing, accessories and shoe choices.  

Gearing up to be goalie for his very 1st time!  

Sports.  I most definitely have a love-hate relationship with sports, personally and as it relates to my son.  I think it all stems from my childhood (as these things do) and the hours upon hours that our t.v. was turned ON and tuned in to professional sports.  With all of those hours logged in front of Wimbledon tennis, NFL football and the never-ending baseball season, I feel it left me a little burnt out.  Add in the hours I spent on the drill team and cheer leading for these type of sports and you've got yourself a little sports overload syndrome (S.O.S. - I made this up, obviously).

We've been cable-free for five years and that has eliminated Sportscenter and sporting event broadcasts from our home.  That has been a double-edged sword.  On one hand, it would be nice for my hard working husband to actually relax and watch a game every once in a while after a long day.  It would also be helpful for Grady to join his father in the act of hanging out together, bonding over yelling at their favorite team(s) and mastering the art of the remote control.  I also think it would help Grady understand many of the sports he has dabbled in (soccer, basketball, golf, tennis and baseball).  On the other hand, I love that we don't have all that junky influence of pop culture and advertising campaigns infiltrating our brainwaves.  We have done just fine without it.

But if I'm being honest, sports are not my son's thing.  They just aren't.  And I've been wrestling with where I stand on this.  I think I've rallied behind him and tried to be encouraging, but he still lacks any drive or motivation for team sports.  He has no hustle or energy on any field or court, except tennis.  And while tennis is great, it's not a team sport.  Originally, we thought it was important for our only child to be part of something bigger than himself.  We were intentional with his sporting endeavors, but not overbearing.  We asked him if he wanted to play, we listened to his answers and signed him up accordingly on a team.  But my thoughts are changing and I think he should give tennis a try.  He likes solitary activities like drawing, reading and looking at himself in the mirror.  Perhaps he can work on his tennis form while gazing at himself.  Oh, my only child.

I read this article yesterday morning and couldn't get those six words out of my head :: I love to watch you play.  Six powerful words to say to your child post-game in the car ride home.  No questions about the game and no loaded phrases fraught with judgment.  Just those six words.  I tried it out and it felt good.  Grady seemed content and probably relieved not to discuss the game.  The writer of that article said that it's a signal that sends the simplest, most powerful signal:  this is about you.  I am your parent, not your coach or judge.  You make me really, really happy.  I really needed to read this yesterday because my son does make me really, really happy and he should get to know and feel that after 60 minutes of running around a field with his teammates.

Happiest kid on the block (or hillside, as the case may be)

On the musical front, we recently attended a Local Natives concert in Oakland at the Fox Theatre.  We grabbed dinner beforehand and stayed out until midnight and it actually resembled a date.  The band was phenomenal live and they had the coolest light show going on behind them.  The weirdest thing about the show was that all the younger hipsters were constantly on their iPhones either filming, snapping photos or checking social media while the band was playing!  I refused to snap a photo inside the venue and be like them (see my judgment is coming out again) because it looked absolutely ridiculous.  It made me think about how much we are on our little devices and how it looks to our peers, children and public at large.  For 90 minutes I just thoroughly enjoyed the band and time nestled close to my man.  I didn't need to record it, I was living it.

Grady has been coveting these Coloud brand headphones for weeks (pictured above).  We came to a happy compromise on the electronics front.  He was posturing for an iTouch or iPhone (keep in mind he just purchased a regular iPod nano with his own birthday money this past April), which are out of the question for at least a few more years.  He was deflated and disappointed, but I slowly figured out (after mild interrogation) that what he really wanted was to look cool.  A-ha!  This mama can most definitely understand how that feels and I think 5th grade is when it starts to matter, or at least it did for me.  We took the opportunity to teach him about researching headphones, working within his budget of $30 and going to test out the headphones in person.  Target did not have the color headphones that he wanted, so we ordered online and they were shipped via FedEx from Sweden (an added bonus for the cool factor!).  The by-product of this online transaction was the additional lesson of delayed gratification.  A perfect combination in my book.  He counted down the days until their arrival and I don't think I've seen him this happy in a long, long time. Hopefully, this will stave off his yearning for more handheld electronics.  The jury is still out on that, but I'm cautiously optimistic.

Lunch Notes, Quotes + Reminders
A very busy poster in English + Spanish

Last week was back to school night and I helped paint signage and assisted with serving dinner to a good percentage of our entire school family population.  It was a wonderful night and I'm looking forward to all of the new teachers and classes offered this year at Tomales Elementary School.

The chess club has started up again and will continue for six weeks.  I love that the principal finally let me organize this after school club last year.  The kids are so excited...to play chess!  It sounds funny, but it's true.

Pecan-mini chocolate chip scones adapted from the Angry Chicken blog

I'm trying to reduce the amount of meat we consume.  It's been easier than I thought and dinner time has been creative, to say the least.  I'm reading Gwyneth Paltrow's new book It's All Good and trying to find the balance between healthy and totally over-the-top.  Starting the day with breakfast and 24 ounces of water has helped catapult me into a day of eating mindfully and feeling full (because of all that damned water!).  My husband and son are along for the ride and are such good sports.

Middle Road, Valley Ford (left)
Arch Rock, Pt. Reyes National Seashore (right)

These days of September have melted into weeks and it's been hard to come back here and write in this space.  I put so much pressure on myself to write here, but sometimes that just paralyzes me and I get overwhelmed with how many images I want to share and if my thoughts will translate easily into words and flow here in this space.

I got up at 3:30 am this morning and knew I needed to peruse my recent pics, dig deep and share what has been bubbling up inside of me.

Thanks little blog.  I needed to run to you and jot this down, so that I can get out there and run for my health today.  I feel depleted and restored at the same time at the end of this post.

I feel ready to take on this day.

Mindfulness

Free cherry tomatoes found at the Valley Ford P.O.

This time of year always sparks a renewal for me.  I had a spectacular birthday weekend, which naturally spilled into the week and then into the next.  I like it this way - a nice, long celebration and time for reflection on my life.

Grady's art designs + thrift shop t-shirts = Upcycled Goodness

I've been busying myself with art projects and volunteer posts at Grady's school.  I'm trying to let go of a few things and add in activities that feed my soul and keep pushing me forward as a woman, as a mama, as a wife.

I rung in my 43rd year with a beautiful, intimate dinner party hosted by our good friends and neighbors, Scott + Jill.  The dessert was a beautiful Rothko-inspired ice cream cake and it was as delicious as it was unique.

I spent a marathon day thrifting with Steph and the kids and we wound up with 11 pairs of shoes purchased between us!  It was an epic day of shopping and boy were we exhausted when it was all said and done.

The next day was spent hiking 10 miles near the Russian River in Jenner.  The intention of starting off this 43rd year in an active and positive way was not far from my mind and I'm so glad I chose to get out in the world, laugh, talk and feel myself getting stronger as I headed into this next year on earth.

Home + Books + Flowers + Cake + My Boy

I've been putting off going to the doctor to follow-up on my high blood pressure diagnosis.  I guess I was hoping the medication she previously put me on would be working its magic and that these few months of changed diet and exercise may have had a positive impact on my numbers.

Well, I was wrong.

Soccer season is in full swing - my favorite spectator sport

As I sat in the doctor's office quietly trying to settle my mind and rest my heart rate, I started to think about this getting older thing.  I've never been afraid to age, but it finally clicked for me that it was more than just turning a number on your birthday.  Getting older was about being more in tune with yourself, knowing your weaknesses and strengths.  Paying attention to my body and how it reacted to things has been new for me.  I've taken my health and diet for granted for as long as I can remember.  I'm not bragging, but I just didn't consider myself into the equation...until now.

Kooky carrots grown at my office garden plot
Asian pears from our one and only abundant pear tree

Getting those test results and hearing that my blood pressure is still in the unsafe zone (135/103) really made me stop and ask myself when are you going to grow up and take care of yourself?  I take care of everyone else, how about me?  Now I know how to have a good time and overindulge, but I'm clueless on the delicate balance of less is more when it comes to red meat, alcohol and salt.  I've never monitored it and, yes, it's gotten me into some sticky situations - but I've only stopped my bad behavior intermittently, rested up and then started all over again.

This doctor's appointment freaked me out and reminded me that this should be a wonderful year of balance and not the same 'ole do whatever you want and pay for it later kind of year.

And so I declined going to the wine shop on last Friday night (even though Sunset magazine was there doing a photo shoot on the deck overlooking the bay!) and opted to stay home with my boy, read a few good cookbooks and allow myself a very dry martini while I settled into reading about the new habits I would be adopting in the kitchen in the coming weeks.

This week started off clean and fresh.  I even purchased a small bag of nutritional yeast, dried goji berries and a jar of Veganaise.  No laughing.  I blame Gwyneth Paltrow and her new book.  Sister has convinced me to try a few new things.

I'm turning over a new leaf where my diet and weekly exercise are concerned, as well as ratcheting down my cocktail hour shenanigans (not completely, but severely).  I've made running dates with my husband (and he stood me up on the first one!), penciled in mega-hikes with the girlfriends for the next month and cancelled a few dinner party invites that I knew would land me in the overindulgent morning after mode.

Yes, I'm going to practice mindfulness as it relates to my health.

That only took 43 years to process.

43

Today is my 43rd birthday.

I woke up early and immediately started thinking about my mother.  She walked out on our family and divorced my dad when she was 43 years old.  My mind is turned on to an endless loop of memories and this is not how I wanted to start this day, this year.  But I can't help myself.

Birthdays and New Year's Day have the same effect on me.  I love the idea of renewal, beginnings and an opportunity for list-making of any kind.  The thoughts springing into my mind from 20 years ago are messing with my plan to document this day in a positive light.  I decide to make a pot of coffee and plop myself down on the couch until my guys wake up.

I'm supposed to meet my friends this morning for a 10 mile hike and drop Grady off so that he can train for his upcoming bike race, but I can't stop seeing images of my family like snapshots running through my mind.

Snap!  My dad and my siblings gathered around the dining room table, crying and begging my mother to come home to us.

Steve wanders in and looks confused when he sees me up so early on the day I had asked for him and Grady to serve me coffee in bed.

Snap!  My father sleeping on my bedroom floor night after night, sobbing and continually asking me questions I couldn't answer about my mom.

I find a hand-painted birthday card from my husband and it is a painting of our home.  I start to cry, not because I'm sad, but because I'm so aware of my life in this moment.  This sweet gesture brings me back to my reality and the beginning of my 43rd year.  I quickly get dressed, pack up and head north on Highway One.

Snap! I'm moving back home to help normalize things for my brother and dad.  My sister has taken sides and she has moved in with my mom.  We've all taken sides.  Our home is broken.

The prospect of hiking for 10 miles with my girlfriends is just what I needed.  It is a beautiful day, the fog is lifting and revealing the bluest sky and cotton ball-like clouds.  The trail is wide and we walk and gab about everything under the sun.  This is my church, my confessional.  I share with the girls about my early morning musings about my mom and they listen, nod their heads, touch my shoulder and hear me out.

Snap! Our first Thanksgiving without mom.  My dad tries to do it up like we've always done, but it leaves us all a big crumpled mess of emotions.  It's not the same.  It's not the same at all and we've finally used the good china.  That just makes it sadder.

I scoop up my boy after our hike and head home.  He's exhausted from his major bike ride and asleep before I even leave the tiny town of Jenner.  I look at him in my rearview mirror, his face smooshed up against the seatbelt, head bobbing side to side as we take the curves down the coast.  He is the best part of my life and I couldn't imagine ever choosing to leave him.  Ever.

Snap!  It's late and my sister and I are cruising a parking lot looking for my mother's car.  We find it.  We find her.  She's with a guy.  The realization quickly sets in that she's left our family for this man.  We are shocked and somehow not surprised at the same time.  

Once we get home I put Grady to bed, lower his blinds, pull his baby blanket over him and kiss his forehead.  He has fallen into a deep slumber and I quietly leave his room and shut the door behind me.

Snap!  My dad is asking my advice on what to wear on his date with my mom.  He's nervous and shaking.  He bought her a music box and will gift it to her tonight.  She will accept it, but they will never go out again.  It's over for good this time.

I spend the rest of the day cataloging my 43 years and trying to conjure up happy memories of my life, the family I've helped to create.  Steve gets home and we play Apples to Apples with G, we cook dinner together, clean up and start watching a Bill Cosby DVD.  I leave the two of them laughing on the couch and head to bed to read and think.

Snap!  My parents are dating other people.  My dad brings a woman home.  I move out.  My mom is bartending at a dive bar in town.  My dad has just fired his therapist.  My brother is doing drugs.  My sister hates everyone, including herself.  My mom drinks kamikazes now.

Before climbing into bed, I look at the card my husband made me and I'm reminded that we've made this funky little farmhouse our home.  I usher out the memories that have filled my head all day and end this day fresh, clear and satisfied.

I hope that when my son gets older and reflects on how we spent birthdays, he looks back on this day and...

Snap!  He remembers an incredibly crisp Sunday morning spent with friends, our evening together as a family and that we ended it with lots of laughter.   

That's all I want for my birthday this year.

Snap.