Running the Seasons of Life

When I first began this blog post two weeks ago, it was titled something like, "A New Running Season." But then Mom had her second brain surgery in four months, and the running post became a post about a little bit of everything including running.

I think a lot about life in terms of seasons. H turned four last year, and I feel like it's a new season. All three children are now pretty independent, and it's not crazy to think, Hey, let's have a relaxing evening of games and quiet time. And maybe even some picking up the house where everybody pitches in. While I have good memories of snuggling my babies, I'm okay not being in that season anymore. That season of needy little humans that drain you dry. When I look back on that time of my life, there are gaps in my memory. Mainly during L Child's first year (C was 2) which were probably caused by exhaustion - both physically and emotionally.

There are also times in my life that the best thing to do is take a break. Rest and refuel. Say 'no' to requests and take care of myself. I think I got better at this after my miscarriage and the faith struggle that ensued afterwards. A season of grief can force you to step back and be quiet in life.

There are different seasons of friends. While there are the special friends that stay close, even across distances, I think that's a fewer number of all the friends one might have in her life. I've tended to not think in terms of 'losing friends,' but friendships ebb and flow. Sometimes you're close - maybe due to common circumstances like when I was in graduate school. I fondly think about the couple friends Josh and I made that were in the same time of life we were: early years of marriage, graduate studies or first jobs, and no children or just beginning a family.  While we've stayed in contact with our friends and when we see them, we can easily pick up where we've left off, the miles don't allow us to babysit each other's children or hang out on Friday nights. I also think about the past best friends, and while we are more classified 'acquaintances' now, I'm thankful that I had those best friends during a past season of my life. Where would I be without the support and laughter from friends?

There are other types of seasons of life. I've been thinking about the current teacher walkout here in Oklahoma. After a decade of defunding public education, it's the season to stand up and demand adequate education and educator pay for our citizens (of course, I wish we had done it earlier, but it's definitely called for now). There's also the season of caring for parents. I'm thankful that Mom has had two successful brain surgeries and seems to be recovering the second time just as well as the first. Among the gratefulness, there's still extra time needed, stress, and fear, and that's why it's the season of saying 'no' where I can and relying on friends and family to manage.

And now I'm contemplating the season that began this blog post: my running. I look back wistfully on the fast season I had before my full marathon training. I can also remember the first time ever I ran five miles and how much that hurt (and how slow it was), and it's encouraging to see progress over seven years. I feel like my current season of running is slowly recovering from the slow-down (and weight gain) of marathon training. I've gotten to do a lot of races recently, and there's nothing like a race, to access your current fitness level. I was hoping to PR at the San Diego half marathon, but I was five minutes too slow. I discovered that I've got to figure out a way to do better hill training if I don't want non-Oklahoman-flat geography to affect me when I'm running elsewhere. Two weeks later, I paced a half marathon here in OKC for the Go Girl Run. It's a fun route through the downtown neighborhoods, and much smaller than the crazy huge OKC Memorial race. I had a fun time pacing, getting to run slower (I did the 2:30 pace group), and visiting with a new friend (my pace partner). Of course, while slower, the length of time got to my feet and hips. I ended up taking a week off from running, and I'm still showing TLC to my right hip. Pam and I did a 10K right before Mom's surgery, and I was able to run faster than I have in a long time. The speed work and miles I've been putting in this semester are paying off. I'm hoping I can cash in that hard work in a week at the OKC Memorial half. But as Pam says, "OKC is a crapshoot." And as last year taught me, I'll show up to run.  I'm hoping this is the running season of PR.

But whatever the season is in life, I'll run with what I've got.

My Little Scientist

Okay, so I'm warning you right now. I wrote this earlier tonight, but I felt like it didn't read right. So I saved it and showered and came back to it. Then I realized what the problem is: it's a bit snotty, braggy parent-ish. But I didn't change it. So you've been warned...I got a bit braggy in this post.

I've been teased about being a scientist-parent. I might tell Case something like, "Oh, that toy won't fit inside that truck." Case rarely will take me (or somebody else) at their word - probably because most times when he voices disbelief I tell him, "Try it. See if it works." He will usually figure it out on his own. I suspect that a lot of parents do this so I didn't think much about these exchanges even after being called a scientist-parent.

Maybe those encouragements to figure things out though led to an event tonight.

While in the bath, Case was submerging his big, plastic, red cup into the water. You know where you put the cup upside-down into the water? He would force air into the cup and then cause bubbles to shoot up out of the bathwater. Much to his delight, some of these bubbles were huge. He was getting really good at it. I asked Case if the purple cup (identical except in color) would do the same thing. He tried it, and was excited when it worked at making bubbles, too. Then I asked him if the little cup (I pointed to the cup that has little holes in it) would make bubbles too. He tried it, but of course, it wouldn't since the air doesn't get trapped inside the cup. I asked him why he thought it didn't work.

He replied, "Because it's smaller."

I said, "Well, it has little holes in it. The air doesn't get trapped so you can't make bubbles." I knew that was probably too technical for him, but all was not lost.

Case says, "Let me try my little cup that doesn't have any holes."

I stopped in my tracks. He was testing a hypothesis! Was it the cup size or the presence of holes that determines if bubbles can form? Not to fear - Case was going to figure it out!

He found his little cup without holes and submerged it upside-down. He made bubbles! He was surprised and excited to discover something new.

I was surprised and excited that my little 3-year-old can figure out a way to test something. It warmed my heart.

I also made a mental note to reply next time I hear a college student complain that they can't figure out how to test a hypothesis with: "My 3-yr-old can test a hypothesis. I hope you can."