Asleep at the wheel

Or blog, really.

My apologies very loyal Cyberbears! I had great plans for my post-marathon December. It would involve leisurely days with Sugar Bear NOT spent at the gym, yummy family dinners followed by meaningful time with Brother Bear and the Advent Calendar, and special time with friends, family and Papa Bear celebrating the real reason for the season.

Instead, it was a whirlwind of panic and chaos and rushed dinners and packing. Oh, and did I mention the school parties? Oh. My. Heaven. The school parties were the death of me. On just the last day there were THREE parties (because, one just isn't enough). I spent the last week camped out at the school which can put the loveliest of Mama Bears in a foul mood (and let's face it, I ain't the loveliest Mama Bear to begin with!).

And then we had 19 days of blissful vacation in which I had even more intended. We took a trip to the mountains with my family to ski and celebrate my Mother Bear's very important milestone birthday. In my mind I had great visions of the 4 days of driving. The cubs would read and play joyfully in the back of the van whilst Papa Bear drove and I tackled a host of to-dos that overflowed from my bag-where-I-put-everything-I-need-to-do. I even haughtily brought a post-it note with a list of writing ideas so that I could spend some time in the car catching up on writing and start the New Year off with great blog posts.

Yeah. Um, have any of you driven 2200 miles in a van with a 7 year old and 2 year old cub lately? Apparently, I was delusional. I spent the majority of the ride straddled between the front and back seats readjusting Sugar Bear's headphones for the umpteen-millionth time, refilling snacks and bartering over which movie we would watch next. So much for catching up!

But the final destination was totally worth it. I spent 7 magical days with my family celebrating my Mother Bear, skiing to my heart's content, and eating myself out of a pair of ski pants. Brother Bear and his Cousin Bear skied for the first time while my Sister Bear and I instantly aged 10 years. Good thing she's older. (you might need to put on your spectacles to catch that zinger, sis!) They both rocked the mountain and we are considering our training options for the 2018 Winter Olympics. Bode Miller, watch out!

Of course when we returned I was inundated with real life and laundry. Oh! The LAUNDRY. I've just now overpowered the pile of laundry and I put the Christmas decorations away last night. Shew!

Needless to say, I enjoyed the time off immensely save the guilt of not visiting the blog for...um...a while. My apologies.

So, how were your holidays?

I hope they were full. Full of family, full of friends, full of fun, but most of all- full of LAUGHTER and LOVE. I truly wish that for each visitor to this little cyber den.

I hope I'm back in the saddle again. I have a post-it note full of ideas and stories to tell you. Let's just hope the cubs leave me alone long enough to figure out what I meant when I scratched those ideas/stories down over a month ago!

Until then, here's a link to my weekly Facebook column (we took a hiatus during the Advent Season).

Happy New Year, Cyberbears! I can't imagine a better cybercrowd with which to ring in 2011! Here's to a year full of laughter and love.

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Today I'm posting my New Year's Resolution for all to see. Brave, huh? Click here to find out what it is!

Waiting to Exhale

I did it.

It only took me

THIRTEEN TRIES.

But,

I did it.

Cyberbears,

I

FINALLY

BEAT

OPRAH!

(Oprah Winfrey at the finish of the Marine Corps Marathon. I looked WAY better at the finish yesterday. Ha ha ha!)

For those of you who aren't marathoners, it's an ongoing joke that everyone wants to beat Oprah's time. Because, well, IT IS A REALLY GOOD TIME. She ran her race in 4:29:15. My time yesterday was 4:25:01!!!!

So, forget about running a PERSONAL BEST marathon (which I did thankyouverymuch!). Forget about my motivation for running this year. Forget about everything else. What is important is, that I beat Miss Winfrey. Right? (I still think there should be some sort of html code for sarcasm. Then you would know without me having to tell you...). Oh, and I also beat a host of other celebrities, in case you were wondering. I beat: Alanis Morisette, Al Gore, Jared Fogel (celebrity?), Katie Holmes, Mario Lopez, Meredith Viera and Al Roker. Yes, I know this because there is a website, and I went there. (Feel free to go there and see who I didn't beat as well. I don't mind!)

Anyway, yesterday's race was incredible. The weather was PERFECT! Freezing cold while we were waiting, but perfect for running. It was a new course, so I was a little concerned about the unknown, but it ended up ok. The start was a little tricky, as it was delayed by 10 minutes and THEN they did wave starts. Blech! It took me over 30 minutes to reach the start because I was in Corral K. It would have been nice to know that up front, as I would have prepared better.

In my excitement, I made some serious rookie mistakes, but I was able to adjust eventually. Unfortunately, as a result, Miles 23-25 were a SERIOUS gut check. I sobbed like a baby for two miles. Seriously. Ugly cry, snot streaming from my nose, loud noises, sobbing. Don't believe me, just ask my friends at Mile 23 and Papa Bear at 24. I was mortified. I think it was a combination of how terrifically horrible I felt at the moment and the realization/relief that I was almost done. I honestly didn't think I had it in the bag until the last .2 of the race. And then I ran (what felt like a sprint, but was more akin to a waddle) to the finish line screaming like a banshee and pumping my arms in the air. Yes, I was that crazy person and I didn't care! And then I crossed the finish line and realized that I COULD NOT WALK ANOTHER STEP. It was mighty humorous to me. They forced us to step up a curb to get our finisher's medal and I SERIOUSLY CONSIDERED passing on the medal!!

Obviously, my excitement is due in significant part to my success in yestarday's race. But I ran this race with a purpose and new motivation this year. This race supports the hospital where Brother Bear is a patient and eventually had his surgery last February. The race raises over $500,000 for said hospital. Did I mention that in EIGHTY TWO YEARS of existence, this hospital has NOT CHARGED THEIR PATIENTS A SINGLE DIME?? Incredible. So this year, I ran in honor of my very brave cub who toughed out a hard year and was such a trooper. I ran in thanks to the hospital that treated him with care and compassion and did it without charging us a dime. I also ran for two cubs that are patients of the same hospital and have an amazing Mama Bear from my same hometown. They are siblings, Will & Ellie. You can read more about them here.

So, to say I was motivated is an understatement.

But I couldn't have done it without all of your support. The encouraging calls, notes, and texts before the race, the new song from my Big Brother Bear who has conquered and overcome way more than a marathon this year (to say it was a motivational song is an understatement), the INCREDIBLE support from my church that sponsored the water stop at 9.5 (and my dear Bear Friend that coordinated it all), The complete stranger (angel) with the poster of Isaiah 40:31 just when I needed it, my bear friends with the AWESOME glitter-y sign at mile 23 - when I thought I couldn't make it one more step, those smiling faces and that sign gave me the motivation for 3.2 more, and - of course - Papa and Brother Bear who braved the weather, crowds, and traffic to see me at mile 9.5, 14, 18, and 24. Having the support of all of you whether virtually or in person was monumental.

Thank you.

Papa Bear (a way better, way faster runner than me) has a quote from Chariots of Fire that he loves and truly believes. The main character, Eric Liddel says, "I believe God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast. And when I run, I feel His pleasure." While God did not make me fast, I still love this quote. When I run, I feel God's pleasure. It is a sort of holy experience for me. Yesterday was holy and awesome.

And now, I will go nurse my blistered toe (first one in THIRTEEN marathons!?!?), and sore legs. Apparently, Mama Bear don't bounce back like she used to.

But that doesn't matter because, I BEAT OPRAH!

Lucky #13

For all my runners...

A Marathoner’s Benediction

Go. And as you go, may the wind be always at your back pushing you and motivating you.

Go. And as you go, may the crowds be loud, motivating you when you need it most.

Go. And as you go, may the water stops be ready, nourishing you for your journey.

Go. And as you go, may the road be flat and fast, encouraging your inner Kenyan.

Go. And as you go, may the chafing and cramping be minimal, keeping you from pain and suffering.

Go, And as you go, may the Lord watch over you and keep you, giving you faith when you feel you have none left.

Go!

This just in..

Bethlehem is overcome by a mysterious illness. Only angel left standing. Baby abandoned in manger. Mother of God is missing. More details at ten.

I'm free.....free fallin'

On the last school day of every month, Brother Bear's school forgoes the usual uniforms and allows "free dress" for the day.

Sigh.

Believe me, NO ONE is more grateful than me that this day only comes once a month.

Holiday Hangover

Sugar Bear when I went to wake her up from her nap today:

This is what five days of playing with cousin bears, being spoiled by grandparent bears, and eating all the Tiger Butter you can handle looks like.

If you think she looks bad, you should see Papa Bear!

Secret Recipe

Today on Facebook, I'm divulging a secret recipe. Click here to read more.

Stylin' and profilin'

At least someone in this den knows how to work the new boots style:

Motivation

When Brother Bear set his Cub Scout sales goal at $600, I thought it was a bit lofty. But, being the crafty smart marketers they are, the company made the carrot pretty darn big:

Because, what this den needs is flying marshmallows, right?

I want to say "thank you" to all of you that helped. But, um, did I mention the flying marshmallows?

Speechless

Today on Facebook, I'm talking about (of all things) being speechless. Click here to read more.

Flexibility

A conversation overheard at the breakfast table in The Four Bears Den -

Mama Bear: So, Brother Bear, did you have fun with Papa Bear at the (Insert Professional Basketball Team Name)'s game last night?

Brother Bear: Yes! It was really fun!

Mama Bear: What was your favorite part?

Brother Bear: The dancers.

Mama Bear: (Intrigued. Does he mean, "My favorite part was the dancers" as in, "I wanna BE a dancer" or something else? Must. Ask. More. Questions.) Hmm. So, what exactly was your favorite thing about those dancers, sweetie?

Brother Bear: I liked that they were so...flexible, Mama Bear.

Mama Bear: (eying Papa Bear and trying not to spew peppermint mocha coffee through her nose) Aha. Flexible. That is pretty cool, Brother Bear.

I mean, come on, Cyberbears, "flexible" is the exact word I think of when I look at this:

Don't you?

A letter to Sugar Bear

Dearest Sugar Bear,

Your Papa Bear is tucking you away in bed, and I decided to write you a note. Mama Bear learned a lesson today. Actually, it's not like I learned it today, it's been 37 years in the making. And really, I'm learning it every day. But I'm writing it down for you today. Because it is my sincere hope that in writing this down, I'll begin to unravel the binds that keep me from remembering the lesson. More importantly, by making this public, I'll have a record for myself to live this lesson. To truly live it, so that maybe it won't take you 37 years to get there too. I hope not to get to preachy. But you know me by now Sugar Bear. And, occasionally, I can get a little preachy. Just listen to the heart of the message, because that's all that really matters.

Humor me.

Today I went shopping. Just a quick run through Target. I thought I might get a few new clothing items to add to my wardrobe as the season changes. Everywhere I look, there are bears running around in fall outfits, and I am totally digging the styles. My favorite is the leggings with knee high boots and an oversized sweater, shirt, or coat. I totally love it! I perused the aisles with this style in mind, grabbing leggings and shirts that matched the idea I had in my head. Pleased with my choices, I headed to the dressing room with confidence that I would have a cute outfit in no time. As I started to try on clothes, and found outfit after outfit in the "reject pile" that is when I remembered:

I have a big bottom.

Yep. It's true. There's no denying it. And, if genetics have anything to do with it, you will too Sugar Bear. I'm happy to take the blame, but I'm thinking the blame goes a bit further up the chain that just me. But not only do I have a big bottom, I have a small top in comparison. Big bottom, and small top make for very challenging, very frustrating shopping.

That's not the lesson I learned. I already knew that. And chances are, if you are reading this Sugar Bear, you know it too. The lesson is, as Paul Harvey says, "the rest of the story".

So, yes, indeed I have a large derriere. And I often make fun of it (here, for example). But more often than not, I'm frustrated by it. I'm frustrated that I don't look like all the other bears out there, especially the ones glaring at me from the glossy pages of magazines and movies. I'm frustrated that buying a dress usually means adding alterations to the tab. I'm frustrated that if I can get "skinny jeans" over my backside there's room for a small furry animal at the waistline, I'm frustrated that feeling "comfortable" heading out for the evening means I have to wear a very uncomfortable contraption called spanx. I'm frustrated that I've never tried a triathlon because I'm afraid to wear a bathing suit and have my hind end jiggling in public.

After a while, I kind of get beat down by this.

But today it stops. Today, I realized that there's more at stake to this issue than me. I have to think about you now too. Because your little eyes are watching me - and paying attention. Every time I come home from the store sad or look in the mirror and complain - you are learning. You are learning that a Mama Bear shouldn't love her body.

And that's just wrong. In so many awful, horrible, ways - it's wrong. Because what I see in glossy magazines and movies isn't the truth. It isn't the average, everyday bear. It is a lie. And every time I look in the mirror and see that I don't measure up, I'm continuing that lie. And I don't want to pass that on to you.

So, here are some truths I know, truths I'm going to hang on to. Truths I'm going to tell myself when the outfits don't look like I hope... I'm in some of the best shape of my life. I'm training for my 13th marathon and that meaty backside has followed me every step. Those hips kept you safe in my womb for 9 months and continue to carry you where you need to go most days. Sure, they're dimpled, but they are dimpled with life. Some of that life was blissful ignorance (my teens, when I could eat anything I wanted), some of it stupidity (my twenties when I fixed everything with food) and some of it joy (carrying and feeding you and Brother Bear). I'll wear those dimples with pride, as a badge of honor. A life lived abundantly. I will not be ashamed.

So, today, I'm going to start loving my body anew. I'm going to be a changed Mama Bear. And in the process, I'm hoping I'll help you learn to love the body God gave you - just the way you are.

Because you, my sweetest Sugar Bear, are beautiful - every single inch of you.

Believe me. Believe me.

Love,

Mama Bear

P.S. - In college, like me, you'll probably fall in love with a rap song (or another such song) that talks about how there are some bears who love bears with large backsides. You'll find it funny but also endearing. You'll say to yourself, you want a bear like that someday. Don't look for that bear. Because, he only cares about the exterior. Find a bear who loves the interior and recognizes that the exterior, while lovely, is simply the vessel that carries the important stuff. He's the one that will last. But...that's another lesson for another day....

Pondering a P.R.*

* P.R. stands for: Personal Record. Runners (and other athletes) use it to describe a race in which they did their very best. For those of us middle/back of the packers, P.R.s are important. Because the only records we'll ever set are our own. And really, that's all that matters.

Today, I ran a P.R. for a half marathon. I'm pretty darn excited.

For entertainment purposes, I thought I would would walk you through my thoughts and actions during the process of setting a P.R. for a half marathon. For those of you runners, I'm hoping you'll be entertained. For those of you non-runners (seriously, today's the day to start!) you'll get just a wee glimpse into the mind of a crazy person runner. Enjoy.

Deep Thoughts In A Half Marathon:

• First thought out of bed on race day: I THINK I'M GOING TO THROW UP. I THINK I'M GOING TO THROW UP. Seriously, my hands are shaking. What was I thinking? WHYdid I ever tell anyone that I was hoping for a P.R. today? There is no way I'm going to make it across the finish line, much less run my fastest race ever. Oh well. It was a nice thought. Now, where's the coffee?
• Thoughts waiting in line for the porta-potty: This is ridiculous. How can this many people need to go to the bathroom? This is so inefficient! They need to have separate porta-potties: one for the poopers and one for the pee-ers. That one's open now? Uh, you can go ahead of me. No, I'm not being nice. It's self preservation. That bear was in thereWAY too long.
• Standing and waiting for the start: Sheesh it's cold. I feel like I forgot something...what was it? Nah...just pre-race jitters. {Moment of silence announced} Prayer Time! "Dear Jesus, please don't let me die today. Or, fall flat on my face. Amen." Hmm..why can't I find a place for my gel pack today? Did I forget something? Nah...not as many times as I've run! Oh well. Where's a good place to put this? Hmm..the cavern of wasted space in my sports bra is the perfect place. {Star Spangled Banner starts playing} Dang! I always get so emotional when I hear this song sung. Wait. No one's singing? It's just music? Taped music? Hmm, my race funds put to good use, it seems!
• Race Starts: I'M GOING TO THROW UP. I'M GOING TO THROW UP. I'M GOING TO THROW UP. Must do something to distract myself. Time to turn up the tunes!!
• Three minutes in: Walk break (I take them every 3 minutes)! Oh, GOD, I'm going to be trampled!!!! Hmm..my left shoe seems a little loose. Wish I'd fixed that before I started. I have a feeling I'm going to regret that later.
• One mile in: WATER BOTTLE! I FORGOT MY STUPID WATER BOTTLE? You'd think I was a rookie!!!! Oh well, I'll be forced to drink water from a cup with the rest of the crowd. I'll survive. I think.
• Mile 2-4: Oi! My legs still feel like bricks. And we haven't even hit the hills. No way I'm P.R.ing today.
• Mile 5: That sounds like a car coming up behind me, up this giant god-forsaken-hill. {Peek over shoulder} Oh, shew. It's just a bear pushing a cub in a jog stroller RIGHT PAST ME LEAVING ME IN THE DUST. No biggie. My ego can handle it. Wait, is that cowbell I hear? Indeed it is!!! HEY DEAR BEAR-FRIEND AND HER PRECIOUS CUB!!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR COMING OUT! IT'S SO COLD, BUT YOU CAME OUT, AND YOU ARE SO AWESOME!!!! MORE COWBELL!!! WITH FRIENDS LIKE THIS I CAN TOTALLY KICK THIS HALF!!!
• Mile 5.5: Oh! I'm halfway now! Time for my gel! I think I'm going to start a group called, "Runners Against Flapping Fannies." I've seen too many fannies flapping out of too-short-shorts today. Geesh. BUY SOME LONGER SHORTS BEARS!!
• Mile 6: Ooh. That mile was faaaast. Nothing like moral support to kick it up a notch. But maybe not SO much!
• Mile 6.5: Oops. NOW I'm halfway. Nothing like a half marathon to challenge your already lacking mathematical skills! Seriously, you'd think I was a rookie!
• Mile 7-8: Oh. Dear. Lord. When will these hills stop???? Time to kick it in if I want to P.R. Ignore screaming hamstrings. They are sissies.
• Mile 9: What mile was that? Crap. I officially have no earthly idea what mile I'm at, but I'm too embarrassed to ask another runner. Wait, is that the 2:00 pace group in my sights???? Woooo hoooo baby!
• Mile 10: Why hello, 2:00 pace group. Enjoy the view of my BEHIND folks. Because, I'm officially passing you now. I might just even SET A P.R. TODAY!!!
• Mile 11: Excuse me lady-bear, did you just say, "keep going, you can do it" as I stopped for my regularly scheduled interval? Ugh. I want to trip you. You are going to regret saying that when I pass you in a few minutes.
• Mile 12: I AM A KENYAN! I AM A KENYAN! I AM A KENYAN!!!!!!! I can totally do this. I'm going to do this!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M GOING TO DO THIS!!!! No tears girl, no time for tears!!! Oh, who am I kidding!!!
• Mile 12.1: I AM SO NOT A KENYAN!!! I THINK I'M GOING TO DIE! WHERE IS THE FINISH LINE??
• Mile 13: Why are all these bears standing around and NOT CHEERING FOR ME? I'm SETTING A P.R., bears! GET ROWDY!!!!
• Mile 13.1: I DID IT! I DID IT! I cannot believe it!!!! Oh, stop looking at me. I know I'm screaming like a banshee-bear. I know I'm making a fool out of myself. BUT THIS, this right here? THIS IS MY MOMENT. I'm going to bask in it. And you CAN NOT take it away from me. So, I'm going to jump, and I'm going to scream, BECAUSE I JUST RAN A HALF MARATHON IN UNDER TWO HOURS!!!!
• After receiving medal: Oh Dear Lord, I cannot walk. Breakfast burrito? Heck, yes! Bring it! Man. I'm really rethinking that whole - I'll walk home after the race. Two point two miles sounded so short this morning. Taxi? Taxi? Where are the taxis?
• After arriving home: Bathroom. Coffee. Shower. Fuzzy Slippers. Bed. STAT.

Thanks for all of your support. I'm now going to bed.

For a week.

Linking and learning...

Okay, I'm going to be honest.

I've been hesitant to link my weekly writing for my church's Facebook page to this blog. I don't know why. Maybe because it seems, I dunno, self-promoting. It's also a little different from my normal writing here - so it may be a stretch. There's also the whole "Oh my gosh you'll know where I live and my name and you'll come stalk me and kill me" thing. But, um, since my 3 loyal Cyberbears are family and friends - that shouldn't be a problem, right?

Honestly, this Facebook writing takes a lot of my time and, therefore, pulls me away from this blog. Which sometimes frustrates me. Because, the guilt of leaving you guys hanging is monumental.

The simple solution is, I know, to link this blog to my weekly column. "Duh!" you say. I know. Sometimes it just takes me a while to get there myself.

Thanks for being patient.

So, going forward, each week - normally Thursdays - (unless I'm overcome by writer's block) you can come here and find a link to my weekly musings for my church. And for those of you who aren't Facebook savvy (Papa Bear and Big Sister Bear, I'm talking about you), you can follow the link without a Facebook account! Yeah!

Hopefully, you'll enjoy it. And, hopefully, you won't stalk me, or call me by my real name, or anything scary like that.

Because, that wouldn't be fun at all.

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Cross Training

Today on Facebook, I'm talking about cross training. Click here to read more..