Watching the Mariners (and Thing 3) is a Treat!

Tuesday night we went to the Mariners-Blue Jays game. My brother and my cousin were here visiting, and my cousin had never been to a MLB game before, so off we went. And let me tell you, the M's did not disappoint. Bottom of the 9th, bases loaded, tie ball game, Ichiro base hit to center for the win. My oh my! Here's a picture my cousin took of that hit:



Thing 3, our star performer, did not disappoint, either. There were some really obnoxious Blue Jays fans sitting in front of us (I knew we were in trouble when I saw their sign - "We're Drunk!!!"), and every time they finished their chants of "Let's go Blue Jays!" Thing 3 would squeak out "Let's go Mariners!" in his very loudest voice. I've never seen a four year old cheer so hard. Usually it's painful to take little kids to the ball park, but he was so much fun. The crowd loved him, and one of the Blue Jay guys even grudgingly admitted, "Now that's a true fan." But the best was when he danced to the music in between innings. My cousin caught one such moment on camera. You can hear the rest of us laughing in the background, and watch for me grabbing him before he topples into the next row.

Seattle Rock and Roll 2009

I've been meaning to post this for a while, but we've been on vacation, then we had house guests for a while, and oh yeah, my dog ate my homework. The truth is, I have not been looking forward to writing this race report. The race did not go well. Not well at all.

My doctor and I stuggled to figure out how I should be medicated for the race. I am by far his youngest patient; one of the nurses in the office refers to me as "That young thang," and another one asked me once if I'm still in high school. I guess that's what happens when all the other patients are 80+. Needless to say the doctor isn't used to treating patients who are training for endurance sports.

We ended up doubling some of my meds, but that ended up being a gross underestimate of what I needed. I felt great the first five miles, but then I started feeling queasy. By mile six, I was dizzy and stuggling to not pass out. And that's how it went for the last seven miles of the race. I kept thinking about the stupid blog post I wrote the night before, dedicating the race to my kids, and how I had to finish, and how if I passed out, they wouldn't let me finish. I tried dedicating each mile to someone I loved and focusing on them, but my mind was pretty numb, and after a few seconds I just went back to trying not to hurl and keeping the blackness away. It was pathetic.

I finally crossed at 2:30:19. I took a few steps and then just sat down because everything was going black. A race lady told me to keep moving, I told her I couldn't, and what happened next I don't know. I remember being dragged by two race workers to the medic tent. I stayed there for a while with my feet elevated and ice bags on my ankles (which felt soooo good). After a while I left because I knew Sparky would be looking for me, and what I needed was my meds and I knew they weren't going to hook me up.

So what went wrong? I don't know. I'm kicking myself for not taking extra meds on the course with me; Sparky suggested it, but I said I'd be fine, I didn't need it. I'm frustrated because I trained well for the race. I had run three 12 mile long runs, I'd been running 24 miles a week, I'd done hill work once a week. It was frustrating putting in all that time and sweat and then being so disappointed with my time. But I'm really proud of Sparky and our friends. All of them did really well, and being with them made the experience worth it. In fact, we're doing it again next year. Sparky finished in 2:05, and he wants to get his time back under two hours. And I'm determined to redeem myself. I have an appointment with the doc soon, and we're going to figure this thing out. A friend of mine is a PT, and she scolded me after the race. "What were you thinking? You could have died!" I told her that I have to live my life. I'm not going to just sit on the couch of doom and watch other people live their lives. I want to experience things.

I know this post is a little long, but I have to include one last thing. They had a video camera at the finish line. And I was dreading how it would turn out - Would you be able to see me pass out on camera? I'm sure it wasn't pretty. I wasn't sure if I wanted to see it, but Sparky looked it up, and then told me I must have been praying hard, because I got my wish. Just after I crossed the finish line, someone bumped the camera, and you can't see anything constructive for a while (long enough for me to make my graceful exit). I tell you, it's all about those tender mercies in life.

Tomorrow

It was just over four years ago that I was lying in a hospital bed, fighting for my life. The doctors had no idea what was wrong with me, so they put me in the oncology wing. I slept most of the time. I couldn't keep any food down. I looked like a skeleton and had dark circles under my eyes. I endured so many tests. I had transformed into a human pincushion. I was so dehydrated that they had trouble taking my blood; the barely twenty year old lab techs had to stick me five or six times every test just to hit a vein. I remember one time one of the techs just came into my room and I burst into tears.

Lying in that room, I felt closer to God than I have at any other time in my life. I prayed a lot. I was edging close to the end of my life, and I had an overwhelming feeling that if I went, I would be okay. I had lived a good life. But I thought of my sweet husband. I thought of my three boys - six years, three years, and two months old. Still babies. They needed a mother. I had so much left to teach them. I prayed fervently to my Heavenly Father that I would get to raise my boys. And then, somehow, I knew that my prayers would be answered and I would live. The next day, the doctors figured it out - Addison's disease. Within a day or two, I was playing cards with my family, bored, ready to get out of bed and eat anything salty.

I'm not sure if I would trade that experience. I hate that it caused my family stress, especially Sparky. I hate that I did not have enough energy to be a good mother for months before I was diagnosed. But I don't take life for granted. I thank God every day that I am alive. The time with my children is precious. My time with Sparky is a gift. The little things don't matter as much as they used to.

When I was sick, and even just after I was diagnosed, I never thought I would be able to run again. But over the last four years, I've slowly built up my strength so that now I can run regularly. I do it for my kids. I want to be as healthy as I possibly can for them. Tomorrow is a big milestone for me. I'm running the Seattle Rock and Roll Half Marathon - my first half marathon since my diagnosis. I am dedicating this race to my kids. I'm pretty sure that they are the reason that I'm alive today. And I'm so happy to be doing this race with Sparky. Everything is ten times better when he's around.

Spring Recital 2009

Saturday was our annual spring recital. I couldn't be prouder of all my students. Most of them had their songs memorized, and they all were so confident up there! Thing 2 did great, playing the much loved "From A Wigwam." He told me, "No mistakes, Mom!" when he sat down. And Thing 1 made me so proud; he played his first "real" classical piece, "Waltz in B Flat" by Schubert.

This year I did things a bit differently. First of all, I held this recital with two other piano teachers in my neighborhood, something I had never done before. It was really fun, and it was good for the kids to hear some older kids play "the real stuff." I'm hoping they gained a little inspiration, maybe enough for some practicing this summer? My fingers are crossed.

Something else that I did differently was that after much prodding by one of the other teachers, I performed a song. I hadn't played a solo at a recital since my senior year of high school. I was trying to decide what piece to play, and thought back to that senior year when I tried to quit piano because I was so unbelieveably busy, but my teacher wouldn't let me stop. I had learned all the pieces she had wanted me to learn that year except one - "Valse Chromatique" by Benjamin Godard. It's a great piece, but it's full of crazy chromatic scales (hence the name), and I just couldn't get some of the passages down in time for my senior recital. I ended up pulling it at the last minute and playing something else. It always kind of bugged me that I never finished that piece, so I blew fifteen years' worth of dust off of it and got to work. I didn't quite play it perfectly on Saturday, but I did it. Mrs. Martin, that one was for you. It was really liberating, like getting a splinter out that's been annoying you for a while.

Viking Fest 2009

Here it is, the post you've all been dying to read, my second annual Viking Fest post race report. I have been waiting for the chance to ask Sparky to put together the race video, but he's been busy seeing his brother graduate from med school (way to go Corn!) and other various things. I can't believe my blog doesn't come first in his life, but whatever. Luckily I have a wonderful friend who was there and grabbed a few still shots. Note Thing 3 ran his race before I managed to get the chocolate frosting from his doughnut off his face.

Here is a picture of Thing 1 and his friend, the one who convinced him to run the 5 mile instead of the 1 mile. These two have been friends since they were 3. Today at church, they both were wearing blue long sleeved shirts and ties, along with Thing 2 and Thing 3. I told the friend he fit right in with my crew - my four boys.

Here is one of Thing 1 and me pre-race. Look how excited he is to be in a picture with his dear mother. I am proud of him, though. He finished in 46:02, way faster than I expected him to finish. I was somewhat pleased with my time, too - 40:37. I'm a little bummed that I didn't break 40 minutes, but I did set a course PR, shaving a minute and a second off of last year's time. Next year I'll have to do a little speed work and see if I can get under 40! This race is so much fun. We had so many friends there and the course is gorgeous. By the way, I didn't forget about Thing 2. He had a baseball game that morning and missed the race.

Apparently I'm raising a mini George Lucas

Santa brought Thing 1 a digital camera last Christmas. I envisioned him taking lots of pictures with his friends, documenting good times. We recently uploaded his latest batch of memories to Picasa, and while there were a few random pictures of his friends and brothers, we had a lot of this kind of stuff mixed in:

Okay, so maybe he's not George Lucas.

I am a lousy mother

I am not the most supportive mom ever, and little league baseball tends to broadcast it to the world. I still believe that the best thing about little league is how cute little kids look in catcher's gear. Last year, I was bitter about the snack. Last week, we found out that Thing 2 made the baseball all-star team, and my first reaction was, "Aw crap. Now I'm going to have to go to more games!" Then I realized that normal parents don't react this way, so I gave a half-hearted "Go Thing 2, go!" to keep up appearances. I think there's something wrong with me. There's another family with a kid on this team that totally makes up for my lack of enthusiasm. They have their kid training year round, and they are really into the games. I'm pretty sure they would have been devastated if he hadn't made all-stars (he did). I think they're having a parade in his honor next week, and the paperwork is being filled out to make his all-star debut a national holiday.

Anyway, I was lying in bed this morning, thinking what a lousy mom I am, when Thing 3 came in for his usual early morning snuggle (or "snug" as he calls it). After a few minutes, he turned to me and said I was his best friend, which of course made me smile. I'm not a great mom, but at least I have my kids fooled!