the pieces of my life

Love this article, which came to courtesy of Alisa Just remember: Don’t leave me alone with the baby. Ever!

“Leaves trying to get unstuck, but can’t.”

Kate Feiffer visited Doodles’s school today to read from her book President Pennybaker. There’s been talk of the election and as part of the day, apparently an election was held. I didn’t know about this, until I noticed late in the day that Doodles was wearing an “I Voted” sticker.

Me: You voted today?
Doodles: Yep.
Me: Who did you vote for?
Doodles [with no hesitation]: You!
Me: You voted for me?
Doodles: Yeah!
Me: Who were your choices?
Doodles: Um, our choices were, um, Bar-ick O-bama. And, um… Um…
Me: John McCain?
Doodles: Yes! John McCain! And Your Mommy. And Your Daddy.
Me: So you voted for me?
Doodles: Yeah!
Me: Aw, that’s sweet.
Doodles: There was a line to write in another name. I was going to vote for me, write my own name in. But I decided to vote for you.
Me: Why?
Doodles: I dunno.
Adam: What is it that Mommy supports that you agree with?
Doodles: I dunno. I just voted for her.

And with that, Doodles proves himself to be a true blue American. No idea what he’s voting for. Just going with the popular vote. And you? Do I have your support? I make no promises….

The good news is, if I were a 55-year-old woman, I would have qualified for the Boston Marathon. The even better news is, I’m not a 55-year-old woman.

Seriously, I ran a kick ass (or kick tushie, as we say in my house) race today. I did go out a little too fast. I did have to make a pit stop in the bushes. But even so, I trashed my old PR of 4:25:07 with a 4:13:46 finish at the Baystate Marathon. True, my finish wasn’t so good in comparison with others (Baystate is considered by some to be the fastest course in the country, because it’s so flat and so many folks do qualify for Boston). Of course, this race had 2500 runners total, including the half, so I wasn’t competing against quite as many people (Miami had about 2500 in just the marathon and NYC had about 35,000, I believe).

The route is nice, but it’s a loop course, which isn’t my favorite. What a loop course means is… I got lapped by the winner when I was at mile 12. I saw the USATF truck and a couple of cops on motorcycles and at first couldn’t figure out why there were there… until this guy came blowing past me. The wind was pretty fierce out there–it never seemed to be at my back–and I’m petrified of bridges, and had to cross three of them, including a rather rickety one that shook with the cars.

But the leaves were gorgeously hued and the run was along the Merrimack River, which mad for some stunning views. I started at about a 9:45 pace and eased into a nice 9:35 pace for most of the run, but at mile 23, I started to hurt and at 24, my quads basically froze on me. I still kept running, but my place slowed so I eventually finished with a 9:41 pace. I had one of those finishes where I kept eying the medics, wondering if I needed them or not. But instead, I just walked and focused on not throwing up, which I succeeded at, so all was good.

And now? Now I’m done. Now I get sushi and a beer. Now I get a full week off of running and three weeks of easy running. And then? And then I start training for Miami. “Welcome to Miami. Buenvenidos a Miami.”

Oh yeah. Bring it on.

In lovely Lowell, MA, it’s going to be a lovely 54 degrees today–perfect marathoning weather! But at the moment, it’s a mere 34 degrees, which begs the age-old running question: shorts or tights? Wear shorts and I’ll freeze my ass off for the first hour. Wear tights and by the end I’m a sweaty mess.

I’ve been really casual about this marathon. For one, it’s local so there’s no disruption to my life. The family isn’t even coming out–Doodles has religious school and after they’re all going to the birthday party of the daughter of one of Adam’s closest buddies. I’m up, I’m about to drive to Starbucks to pick up a friend, and then head to the marathon. I won’t even have anyone at the end of the race, because I have just one friend running the full–everyone else is running the half so will be done hours before me. It’s not like I’ve done a zillion marathons–this will be my fourth–but it just doesn’t seem like any big deal. I kind of feel like I’m just going out for another long run.

…except that I had these weird dreams last night. Someone mentioned the course can get really thinned out. New York had 45,000 runners. Miami had 10,000. Baystate has 2,500 total for the full and half. So I dreamed that all the runners were pretty spread out so I had to follow the path myself. Except the marking was this faded yellow chalk line down the street, and of course I got lost. And just like the night before my first NYC marathon, I dreamed that at some point I stopped to hang out and chat and relax and then I realized after a bit, “Oh, shit! I’m in the middle of a marathon! I’ve got to go!” And off I went to keep running.

So I guess I’m feeling a little more tense than I thought. I have no idea what a smart pace would be for me–I really feel confident I can do under 10-minute miles (my basic goal), but how far under? I don’t, don’t, don’t want to go out too fast and hit the wall at 20 miles, like I did in the first NYC race. But then again, it’s also a sucky feeling to finish and think, “There’s still some juice left in me. I could have spent more.”

Well, we’ll find out for sure what I can do, I guess, in about six hours. In the meantime, Run, Mommy, Run. Oh, and I’m wearing the shorts.

This morning was the boy’s first day of hockey. He’s taking instructional, which covers things like basic skating, stick handling, swearing, passing, body checking, shooting, teeth replacement, and all the other necessities of hockey. It’s the first step on the long road of 5 a.m. practices, traveling teams, and hockey dads (which seem to be more prevalent here than hockey moms, sorry Sarah Palin).

Our town is a BIG hockey town. It’s got a rep for it, and I was floored when we went today and saw, seriously, about a 100 kids all decked up in their hockey uniforms. The first day is “try outs,” meaning they place kids into one of four levels, and two of the groups meet at different times (not 5 a.m., thank goodness. At least, not at the start). The orange/blue level is for kids who are primarily in their second year of instructional (which goes from age 4 to 7). The yellow/red level is for the first timers. Doodles was placed in the red level, which is the “I can skate, but I can’t do much of anything else” level. The yellow level is for those kids who were floundering about on crates. But for this first class, they stick all the kids on the ice and see what they can do. It was completely overwhelming for me, never mind the kids. Kids like Doodles were being swarmed by bigger kids who were speeding around, waving their sticks. I have to say, I got the same pangs I got that first day of kindergarten, knowing I was sending my boy out into the world of team sports. knowing there is no turning back. I got weepy watching him wait patiently to enter the ice, excited about finally starting hockey.

Of course, there’s the flip side to this. And that’s the hockey dad. I saw shades of it emanating from my bleacher bench. Right next to me. My darling husband. “Doodles! Doodles!” “What are you doing?” I asked. “Look at him! He’s holding his stick backward. He’s not a lefty; he’s a righty. Doodles. DOODLES!” Adam finally gave up, but I could see the frustration oozing from him. In some ways I think Doodles would be better off if he didn’t have a father who played hockey as a kid (and grown-up, too, until hockey broke him).

So it’s official. My baby is getting big. And he’s totally, completely, 100% a New Englander. I think I even heard him say “wah-tah,” the other day, when he was asking for a drink. As long as he still roots for the Dolphins, though, all will be good in our household.

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Doodles: Are Uncle Jon and Alicia having a baby yet?
Me: Not yet. They only just got married a couple of weeks ago. Even if they had a baby right away, it would still take nine months, remember?
Doodles: Do you have to be married to have a baby?
Me: No, you don’t. But being married first is the traditional way of doing things. Not everyone is married to have a baby, and you don’t have to be married to have a baby, but if you follow the tradition, you’ll get married first.
Pie: Were you married when you had a baby?
Me: Yes, I was.
Pie: Why?
Me: You know, having a baby is really hard work. It helps a lot if you have a partner when you have your baby, to help take care of it.
Doodles: Yeah, having a baby is really hard work. But it’s also fun.
Me: That’s true. And I wanted Daddy as a partner in taking care of a baby.
Doodles: Hey, Pie, you know what?
Pie: What?
Doodles: When I was born, Mommy had a partner. But when you were born, Mommy had two partners!
Me: I did?!?
Doodles: Yes! When Pie was born, Mommy had Daddy and me as a partner. It was hard work taking care of you Pie, but I really helped a lot. I gave you bottles of milk. So many bottles of milk. Pie, you drank a lot of milk from bottles [I’d like to remind everyone here that Pie was never what you’d call a bottle drinker. She actually despised the bottle]. Mommy was lucky she had so much help.

Well, I guess that depends on your definition of help. If by help you mean being a screaming, whining, dawdling, getting in the way pain in the tush two-year-old, yep, Doodles, you were a huge help! Thanks for that.

For the record, my parents are Democrats. So maybe I should just send this to Adam’s family:

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