Rookie Runner vs. Severely Social

 Youngest was kind enough to journey with me on my jog today. My plan was 30 minutes, about 3 miles. Youngest bikes; I run. As we head out, everything is going great. I'm 2 minutes into my run and Youngest lets loose. At 7 1/2 minutes I catch a cramp. I decided to walk it off, feeling like it was unbearable and I couldn't run through the pain. I started up running again a few minutes later and didn't get very far before my cramp returned and I returned to walking. On the last leg of the 30 minute circle I ran the final rest of the way. All in all it was 36 minutes total, a small little 15 minutes of which was running.

What in the world could have caused such poor running endurance? Youngest, riding along on his bike, in-between swerving and braking directly in front of me, sounded like this:

"Mom, I got stung by a bee today. Check my pinky finger (swerve). Look, I can ride with one hand. I should have brought water with me. I'll get some when I get back home. Are we crossing here? Why in the world would they plant poison ivy right here. Can you take this thing off my bike? Bball Girl should have come with us. Mom, why would that lady walk home in her bathing suit? Put a towel on! Today, at camp, my wiggly tooth was driving me crazy. See? (swerve). You're done running now? Oh, you're just taking a break. I'm going to ride ahead of you so you can see me. Actually, I'm going to ride behind you (swerve and brake) so I know which way we are going. What?  The pool's open over here? I had no idea. Did you know that, mom? What's for dinner? I'm going to put some fruit in my water when I get back home. Will we watch the Olympics again tonight? Can you put my seat up on my bike? I'm way too big for this thing. Your done running again? Mom, did you know we had water day at camp today? Whoa, did you see that butterfly!?! That is an ugly dog. Is this the opening where we drive when we come from Walmart? Remember you said you would get me a sleeping bag next time we go to Walmart. Remember, you said that?"

Clearly he has no idea that it takes every ounce of my being to be out here doing this at all.  Every drop of energy is being consumed with focusing on putting one step in front of the other. At 7 1/2 minutes in I caught that cramp. I am attributing that cramp to the motor that was running beside me. It's a gift. The Hub has the same gift. It's the gift of gab, and goodness knows, those that have it love to use it. There we are, I'm trying to get in the zone; Youngest is just being youngest. It was truly the Rookie Runner against the Severely Social. Anything he could think to talk about he talked about. Bless his heart, he can't even help it. It would be wrong for me to stifle his awesomeness. Funny enough, he hasn't yet matured to the adult phase that The Hub is stricken with. That would be the requirement of an answer to each question. That sweet Hub, he's mastered the need to end every thought (notice I didn't say question) with a "right?" or a "don't you think so" which requires the sweet listener that I am to respond. When no response comes, the question gets asked again. It's quite comical. As time has gone on, I've gotten quieter and The  Hub has gotten louder. 

In this case, if it were boxing I would be the one pinned up against the ropes taking my beating as if it was being handed to me like an old-fashioned butt whippin' from my mama. If it were badminton, I threw the match, if it were women's beach volleyball I was the Austrian sisters. And goodness, if it was the women's gymnastic team I was certainly the Russians sobbing on the side. The boy had me beat. I couldn't focus, I couldn't run. It literally took all my energy to run and absorb the stimuli he was exuding. I didn't have a choice, I couldn't tune him out and, and he sure wasn't going to stop. The hardest part had to be that he was making sense. It was just conversation and those social people like to do. It wasn't stream of consciousness, he was just observing and commenting on his world. 

It's the dilemma of living with that very social person. The one who talks to complete strangers in public, as if they are old buddies. The one who is bold, confident and self-assured. It's the mini-The Hub. Youngest is for sure his father's child. The other three did not do a good job preparing me for this. Oldest, especially, being the other boy-child, is no comparison. This one is contemplating the world's problems out-loud, while Oldest was the one reflecting deeply inside and quietly playing with toy trucks on the floor beside me. Like night and day. 

Although this run didn't go the way I had intended, I still exercised for 36 minutes. I was still running circles around those couch potatoes out there. Those are long, drawn out, slow-moving circles, but still circles. This here was round 1. I won't let Youngest and his inquisitive, incredibly social nature get the best of me. I'll take him on again. I'm not scurred. Without earplugs, even. With every experience we have to learn and improve. I get it. I got his number next time

As a side and final note, when I typed in "talkative" on google images to get a picture to go with this blog post, Kate Gosselin's face comes up. Now that is just plain funny.

The Letdown

A few days ago I saw an interview with Michael Phelps, pre-London Olympic disaster. Matt Lauer obviously interviewing Phelps because he was the one to watch. Turns out, not so much. Ironically enough, in the interview Michael tells Matt that after the 2008 Olympics he was on an extreme high. He had won a tremendous amount of Gold medals (ponder that for a second - Gold!) and he was floating on top of the world. I imagine his return to the United States and even his own community was met with tremendous fanfare. Perhaps a parade, lots of endorsements (think Subway commercials) and a whole lot of superstar attention.

Then the Olympics were over. The fanfare faded, the paraders went home and the endorsements faded away because he was no longer the "it" face. Michael says he hit an unbelievably low-low. He did nothing for 6 months straight, he said. What? He's an Olympian...many times over. He didn't work, he didn't market himself and he certainly didn't swim or train. He was depressed.

Today I ran across an article announcing the suicide of the NFL player O.J. Murdoch of the Tennessee Titans. Never heard of this guy, but I learned that he took his own life in front of his high school. The article told me that he spent his entire first year of the NFL on the bench with an injury. Sad way to start off a career. Huge letdown for him following high school and college athletics. Killing himself in front of his high school makes me feel like he must have been a really big deal in those earlier years. Probably lots of attention, lots of fanfare. Maybe he even had a parade in his honor. Dealing with an injury that sidelined him perhaps threw him off the track of the thing that he had built his foundation on. Football.

Both of these guys together caused me to pause and really think about what can take a guy so high and then leave him feeling so low and so empty. Foundation. For Michael I am sure swimming literally is his life. I am quite sure I don't want to know about the training regime, the diet or the everyday exercise and lifestyle. I think my muscles would ache just hearing of it. Switch me over to the football field and I can tell you I don't want to know how it actually feels to have a life committed to football. The grueling practices, hard-hitting ins and out of the game - it's tough. Both of these men have lives built around the talent of their physical body. When that fades, or the game changes, or the body doesn't work the way they wanted to, or the emotional high note is not as bright, what is left?

I didn't follow O.J's career so I don't know if he struggled with other things in his life. I do know that his family has got to be devastated that he is no longer with them and maybe shaking their heads  in wonder at why this had to be his only option. Of course, I don't have the physical body to boast talents on but I do have things that are very important to me-my family,  my church ministry, my career. What if those things let me down? What if the excitement was gone and I was left in a low, very dark place? My foundation is in Christ. In Christ is in strength. They are interchangeable terms. One of the key aspects of my faith that propels me to go forward no matter what, is knowing that God's got my back, He's standing in front, and He's protected my sides. In other words, He is my foundation. I have him to reach out to when I am in that low, low place. If my foundation is in anything else (sports, talent, career, etc) I have to know that those things fade with time and circumstances. I have yet to find any other thing that is a constant constantly. He's the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. Recently I read retired NFL coach Tony Dungy's book and was utterly impressed and encouraged at his declaration: football is just football. Sure, it's important. But not as important as God, your family and your life.

I can only imagine what it would be like to be an Olympian or an NFL player. I can't imagine what it would feel like to come down off that mountain top. I'm just a small time player, the journey from mountaintop to the ground isn't quite as far for me as it is for some of these super famous people. I sympathize with their feeling of letdown and wish I could tell them to make sure they have the rock-solid foundation that will guarantee their safe-landing when life says it's time to be let down. If I can't reach them, maybe I can encourage you. Check your foundation. Make sure it's fool-proof, secure and unshakeable. Make sure your foundation is in Christ. He'll carry you through the rise and fall of all those other things.

I Eat Hummus

There comes a time in every young person's life when they mature enough to say they can "remember when..." as if the "when" was eons ago. Usually there is someone in close proximity, possibly older in age, who throws in the "ahh, you're still young!" Many times there are events that occur that spark the realization that you, and I, are indeed old. No matter what anyone says, we have had realized the truth.

Being married for 15 years and having four children is reminder enough that spring chicken I am not. Subtly, there are other reminders as I go day to day with my "I am still young" banner across my heart. This week I had one of those shocking reminders that wasn't anywhere near subtle. As I did my usual grocery shopping, kids-in-tow, doing my best to keep eyes on all of them, talk fast enough to keep Youngest from whatever quick-thought-turned-to-daredevil action he was embarking on and keeping up conversation with The Hub AND Soccer Chick (it's quick the juggling act) I found myself searching for hummus.

Never in my life have I willingly purchased hummus. The Hub asked me what I was looking for and helped me look for it. All the more surreal as I thought not only am I looking for it but I'm having help looking for it. Of course I found it and as the busyness continued to buzz around me aisle to aisle I found myself daydreaming about what this purchase means for me.

You see, nothing wrong with hummus by itself. Healthy, right? I've not done any actual research but I can conclude that this is good for you. This educated guess come from how I even know what hummus is in the first place. My mama, and my green-world loving sister are both hummus consumers. Well, lots of people are, naturally. But, for me, rejecting the food choices and tree-hugging ways of hippies, both reformed and die-hard, has been my claim to fame. I'm a recycler, now...don't get me wrong. I can conserve with the best of them. But I have to be hip, modern and totally suburban with it. Growing up, and take trips now to visit my family have presented such options as trying a little hummus (Um. No.) or some tofu, perhaps. I'm just giving my family a hard time here; and I mean it all tongue-in-cheek. They are great people and it's been a source of constant fodder to tease them about their food ways. One of my many joys in life.

So, to be searching for hummus was kind of like, well, life-changing. What am I doing, I thought... Is it too late to turn back? I did give it a good, long contemplation but then I decided I would forge ahead. After all, I actually did want to eat it. Might The Hub have looked at me funny when I told him  what I was searching for? I think he did, but then, he has long-since resigned himself to know the inevitable: I am becoming my mother.

It happens to the best of us. Thank goodness she's a delightful soul and such a good person. When I am reminded that I am proceeding forward in ways similar to hers, I can take that with a smile. Usually. The hummus one caused me to pause for more than one second. I am going to eat hummus. Heck, I'm going to purchase hummus. What has happened to me? Am I selling out? Some group I think I am aligned to has lost my allegiance? For all my fretting, I didn't just buy that hummus I ate it. The whole container. And it was good. I found carrots and pretzel chips and more, oh my. It only took me 3 days. I'm not proud.

When Bball Chick came and asked what that was, and was it good, I began the evolution to the next generation. "Oh yes, it's good. Eat some." And she did. And she liked it. And so time goes on; I age; I find myself doing things my mother would do, and teaching my kids to do the same. It is truly a beautiful thing.

Fair Game

By no means would I want you to think that our family is biased when it comes to sports-watching. You know, we love a good game. Doesn't matter if a Copeland is playing or not. So how excited was I to find our neighbor-child's All-Star Championship Baseball game planted on the family calendar for Monday night. Despite the facebook posts from various parents of players, it hadn't really registered that this was coming. Facebook can be funny that way. You skim through the posts on your newsfeed and before you know, your eyes have glazed over.

Inspite of my lack of focus, there was the event posted at my nose, alright tip of my forehead, as I entered the fridge over the last few days. So last night, as The Hub got home from work, we all piled in the car and waited patiently (not so much) for him to change his clothes and grab his plate of dinner on his way out of the door. It wasn't until that exact moment that I receive the revelation that Mr. The Hub had no idea where this game was even being held. Alright, to be fair he had some idea. But not enough to drive straight to it. I could never function that way. But it certainly works for him. The game started at 6 and it now being 7:10pm we headed out to try to find the field.

After just one wrong turn we literally ran into the field. We arrive at the bottom of the 6th to find Chantilly in a 1-1 tie over Centreville. There's no outs and a run in wins the game. First batter comes up as we approach the fenceline to get a good viewing spot. Hits a nice grounder into the outfield and lands himself on 1st. Second batter: almost the same play. So here we are, man on first and second, and our third batter is up. After two strikes he's hitting his helmet in frustration. I can read the fellow's mind. He's gotta make this one. It's for the team. Oh, The Hub could barely contain himself. You see, baseball was his game as a kid. It's by far his favorite, and the sport that he still has faith will capture the heart of one of his children. So, there's that pitcher, standing some 9 feet tall, it appeared to me, threw that fastball in to our guy and he whacked it. As it flew past the outfielders mitt, the team went wild. In came the run and the bench unloaded onto the field in excitement.

Friends, all that happened in the course of the three minutes after our arrival. We were way-late, but right on time. Very exciting to see our neighbor, and other neighborhood friends, win their district championship. Maybe more exciting to see The Hub jumping for joy for a team he has absolutely no part of. For the team: they advance: to States!
You see, no matter to me if it's one of my kids playing or a neighbor-child, or shoot, even a random kid I don't know. We love to watch kids get excited over playing well and winning. What a celebration for them and how fun for us to see those last three minutes and see them end well. Youngest promptly resorted to his all-summer-long flipflop between football and baseball for his fall sport. Of course, after last night we are back to wanting to play baseball. Sigh, I'm pushing for football. Baseball can come in the spring, but mama's been waiting for way too long to be a football mom again.

Summer, Summer, Summertime...Summertime

Summertime will forever conjure up images of Will Smith's sweet "Summertime" tune. You know, "school is out and it's kind of a buzz." You know you want to finish the next line - "but back then I didn't really know what it was." Summertime just does something to our senses; wakes us up, perks our attitude a bit. We smile a bit brighter, we enjoy being outside, we become more engaged and active.

This summer we have the added joy of including basketball on our list of things to do. By some good fortune my sweet Bball Girl was invited to be part of a summer recreational league. Could there be any better thing for her? She wrapped up winter basketball and flew head-first into track for the spring and we were expecting a lull in the movement of her body for summer. Not so. Not so sure why I thought it would be so either. So far we haven't been swimmers, never done the swim team, although I promise if I was a stay at home mother I would be at that pool nearly every day. But here we are, enjoying the first few days of summer and also enjoying a summer basketball team.

Dare I call them the "Dream Team?" It sure does seem that all the players that gave Bball Girl a run for her money on the court in the winter season have come together to form one very talented team. Now, let me be clear, every dream team goes through a molding mess of a process where it might not be pretty - at first. Last night's premiere of this team of rising 5th graders, was just that way. Ugly. In fact, Ugggghhh leeeee. There was a lot of confused looks, arms flailing, bodies scraping and some not so pretty shots. A lot of missed shots and a lot of ref calls. Could have sworn we were at the WNBA finals. Bball Girl can put herself right at the top of that list of not-so-smooth starts. She did finish with 3 of the team's points. As the game went on they got more and more of a rhythm going. They won 27-2. Poor other team. 2 points and those were foul shots. Ouch. Last two minutes of the game I seriously wanted to shout out for one of our girls to make a basket for them. They could not get that lid off the rim of their basket and get that poor ball to drop in.

Bball Girl was in the zone, face serious and I must admit, doing her Michael Jordan tongue-extended, "I am serious" run down the court for a fast break layup. Too bad she missed the shot. Okay, she'll get the finishing part eventually. For now, it sure is fun to watch her make that steal and run her incredibly fast little legs down the court and man, when that tongue comes out we know she is so serious. She's like a little Jordan in Lebron's shoes.

The rest of the summer will include a soccer break from my other sweet girl, Soccer Chick. After a not so great All-Star tournament experience she was certainly ready for the break. She and Youngest will take the summer off. But veg-not! Day two of summer has resulted in the second day The Hub has toted them to work with him. Apparently there will be no slumber in the Copeland household this summer. Sounds about right.

Things I Have Learned From Track

Ten things I learned from the Copelands' 1st track season:

1. I don't have to know much of anything about running, but I can be a fantastic cheerleader from the sidelines
2. Bball Girl's stride is amazing. There is a lot of natural talent there. She's a runner.
3. 4 laps around the track really does equal 1 mile. Also known as the "1600m" for you runner types
4. I am white. As much as I don't want to, I will burn as I stand around for hours waiting for each meet to begin
5. There are a lot of kids in youth track. A lot of kids means even more parents. And more than that are the suffocating parents that meet their kids at the finish line to smother them with kisses and praise
6. The Hub really will make friends everywhere he goes
7. The Hub's friendships benefit me in the form of free food from the concession stand
8. Soccer Chick is a sweet sister. She will skip hanging with friends to attend her sibling's track meet
9. Oldest is a sweet brother. He will also take time to come to his sibling's track meet...when his girlfriend comes with him
10. Bball Girl really can run a mile in 6 minutes and 41 seconds. Probably about half the time it would take me to do the same.

As this track season comes to a close, I must admit I am so glad we did it. It was eye-opening and educational for us to enter into this world. The kids enjoyed it; certainly Bball much more than Youngest. Did he decide not to even participate in any meets during the last session? Yes, I think he did.

Coincidentally, in my quest to shed the baby weight added from my now 12 year old, The Hub and I decided we would start training to run a 5k. Never having run before, this was truly a new venture for me. I've launched my participation in the Couch to 5k program and I strongly recommend it to anyone who is really ready to make a change, and is not sure what or how. I've lost 8 pounds so far and since I didn't make the 5 foot cutoff, that 8 pounds is a pretty big deal. I'll be running in my first ever race on June 23rd. Beyond excited!

Now our family moves to the close of the soccer season. Soccer Chick finished up her spring season with her team taking 2nd place in her league's U12 Girls finals. Soccer Chick scored her first goal of the season in one of the playoff games. This season she has spent most of her time playing Center Defense. While I like her at defense (she's tough, she's fast and aggressive), I miss those goals. Seeing her make a goal at the playoff game included a run from the edge of her own goalie box to inside the opposing team's 18 yard line.

Please take notice that as my children progress, so does my lingo. On to soccer all-star team practice for the tournament this weekend, and basketball practice for the summer league. Never a dull moment in the Copeland house. Never.

Run Child, Run...

What joy to watch my children's spring sports season commence this past weekend. Might I be described as "giddy" at the first soccer game? Perhaps. But only by some envious parent who wishes they could have as difficult of a time containing their excitement. I love watching my kiddos in action. After all, I'm in the running (against The Hub) for being their biggest fan.

Saturday's first soccer game was action-packed. Hence, the giddiness-err, I mean-appropriate sideline encouragement. Soccer Chick had some great plays including bulldozing two girls who came straight for her and thought they would easily stick a foot in and interrupt her dribble. I was fortunate enough to be filming this particular play-action and when we got home and watched the playback it was decidely ESPN worthy. Girlfriend was dribbling and literally did plow into girl one, two seconds later girl two met the same fate and she dribbled on.

After sitting idle since the fall season ended in November, she and her team have some rusty spots to work through. They are making a little noise about their coach this season, since he's returned from last season and left the quiet, nice guy behind. Most of our parental-sideline chatter involved remarks about how this guy was no longer playing around with these girls. We love it. The kids are being whipped right into shape. First game of the season they took home a stellar 6-0 win. And it was very entertaining to be in the cheer section with so many of our regular soccer-friends, parents of girls that have played together for countless seasons.

Sunday afternoon found us enjoying a lovely church worship service and off to lunch with some friends. We then quickly shuttled ourselves from that to the track at the high school. In all my giddiness (I reluctantly own the title) I had us there early. I could have promised the email said 3pm start time. With the sun blaring and not a drop of shade around, we sat high in the bleachers awaiting an actual 3:30 start to the first track meet of the season. Each track session starts with a warm-up lap around the track. Youngest never fails to leave his group behind and can be seen passing kids way older than him as he tirelessly completes the lap. His track meet included the 50m and 100m. Bball Girl, being slightly older, did the 100m and 200m. Bball Girl received her first ever ribbon for track for smokin' those poor girls in the 100m. I captured a photo of her extremely tired self holding her ribbon with pride. And she doesn't even know what she's doing yet. She's got speed for sure. Watching them both run it seems she might be an excellent sprinter and Youngest seems to be better at long distance.

I was fortunate enough to capture some footage, although a little jumpy. The sun was directly in my eyes and it was a little hard to zoom in and out as they moved quickly. But, don't count this old girl out. Next week I'm ready with a cap to block the sun, proper positioning for excellent filming, and hoping for lots to cheer about. Let's go Chantilly Youth Association sports! I promise you I have a lot of other things going on in my life. This stuff is just fun to write about.