Run to the Mountains

Forward: Written on 12/29/13 on the road home from Albuquerque Christmas Break. Posted now after reflecting on it and finally finding time to publish.



Yesterday morning marked my longest run in years. My self-created half-marathon training plan called for a 90 minute distance run. Not fast, yet not easy. No matter what pace you are moving, pounding your legs in repetitive motion for an hour and a half is hard. Simple as that. On our final day in Albuquerque, I ran to the mountains. Just me, my legs and my thoughts alone out there in the late morning sun.

I don't run with music. In fact, I have only run with headphones one time ever in 14 or so years of running. For Christmas 2001, my parents gave me a handheld portable cassette player designed for running complete with a bicep attachment and headphones. (This still sits in our TV console at this minute.) Excitedly, I dressed for a 5 degree blistery Chicago winter run with my new sound device. Within minutes I knew running with music was not for me. I hated it. Suddenly something so peaceful became so noisy. I felt surrounded by chaos, a cacophony following each stride.

I love running for its reflective possibilities. I love to be out there alone, with my thoughts or with a good friend enjoying meaningful conversations on life and living it to its fullest, being in the moment, appreciating nature and all its beauty. I write while running. I always have. I remember utilizing long runs in high school to complete full essays, book reviews and afterwards dashing straight to our shared family computer to type the words in my head before they were forever lost. I still write while running. Running is my quiet time, my meditation. Music ruins that for me.

While running to the mountains yesterday I had a lot of mediation time. Long runs are particularly good for that. I thought mostly of love and running and challenges and how the three come together. Distance running, much like love, takes work. To the outsider, each may appear effortless. I spotted only a handful of runners out on the Albuquerque streets during my 90 minutes but every single one looked to be a smooth, seasoned and serious runner. I marveled at how "easy" running looked for them. I was sure some shared my thoughts - mistaking my running as effortless as well. But that's the thing about distance running -- it is never effortless. It's work. It's hard. Yes, moments out there were easy, moments where I felt like a machine, legs churning, muscles flexing and carrying me along those empty sunny roads. Between those moments came challenges - mental reminders to keep on going, lift those quads, land on the forefeet, keep the neck still, relax the arms and legs please don't fail me now.

Love is like that, too. To the outsider, marriages and relationships all too often appear effortless. People put up facades and we hope our friends are truly as happy as they seem. Many are, but that still does not mean that relationships are easy. My husband is my best friend and I am blessed by our mutual love and respect and understanding for each other. Despite all of this, we would be lying if we said love always came easy. There are hard days, there are challenges, distractions, kids. As a mother, I give so much of myself to my kids that at times I feel like there is nothing left at the end of the day. Like a sponge I am squeezed out and hung to dry each night after bath time, only to be used again to wipe faces clean in the morning. There is nothing left to share with my husband, or myself. There are moments when it all feels like work, when we make mental checks and reminders to be kind, be patient, heart and mind please don't fail me now.

Just like in distance running, we keep on going. We climb the mountains. We work hard, we reflect, we think positive thoughts and we find happiness. We find love.

A few pictures from our final day in Albuquerque and the drive home:

Playing in the backseat at a roadside truck stop.

Sleeping Cesia, my angel.

Energized and happy after a 20 minute cat-nap,  just 50 miles outside of Los Angeles. Home, sweet home.

Solemates

The year 2014 is a new year with new goals. Two goals that sit at the top of my list are to give back to local organizations that I am passionate about, and to run a marathon. My older sister, Denise, and I share these goals. She has run one marathon already - the San Diego Rock 'N Roll - a few years back, just 1 day before I found out I was carrying sweet baby Isaac within me. Since watching her complete the marathon in just under 4 hours hardly breaking a sweat, smiling and dancing at the end, my heart has yearned to run 26.2 miles. Other plans were clearly in store for me when I discovered that (surprise!) I was pregnant for the third time in as many years, and for that surprise I am incredibly grateful. How wonderful it is that life doesn't always go according to plan! 

In just 10 days Isaac will celebrate his first birthday. The rapidity of life never ceases to amaze me. I will never forget that memorable Monday in which I returned home from a double stroller run with my girls feeling a little bit of stretching in my belly and moments later discovered that indeed there was a precious little one expanding himself within. I won't lie, that moment of discovery terrified me. I had plans, for heavens sake. I wanted to run a marathon, I was fit, possibly in the best shape of my life. I was selfish, I feared having to start all over again and feared that I couldn't do it. Maybe I would never run a marathon now, being pregnant again, going through the process of gaining weight, losing fitness, etc. etc. These thoughts crowded my mind.

One year and 9 months later, I realize how silly I was. As women, our bodies are made to do this. Our bodies and souls were created to stretch and grow for the sake of new life and beauty. My body has now stretched and contracted itself three times and has created so much beauty for this world. Though it does take time post-partum to feel like yourself again and be fit and active, it happens. Less than one year since my son's birth I just may be in the best shape of my life again. More importantly, I am healthy and happy and love my body. I love it for it's capacity to stretch and grow. It has taken me years to feel such love for myself.

As a mother of two daughters, I pray that my girls will always have the same love and respect for their bodies as they possess today. We have an old scale in our house, tucked away in the bathroom cupboard. Cesia pulled it out the other day, hopped on and excitedly shouted, "Mama, what does it say?!" "28.2," I responded. "Yay, that's exactly what I wanted!" she replied. In that moment, a huge smile spread across my face. I believe that is how we should all feel upon stepping on the scale. The number that appears is a number and that is all. It doesn't make us, or represent us, we are not made any more whole by that number. It is just a number and should be exactly what we wanted in that moment.

One organization that is helping girls feel positive in their bodies and live stronger, healthier, happier lives is Girls on the Run. I first became involved with Girls on the Run (GOTR) of Chicago back in High School when my father led a local site on the south side of Chicago for elementary school aged girls. Then in 2005, while in college in California, I became involved with the GOTR SoCal organization. I coached at Mar Vista Elementary school for a few seasons and worked as an intern in the local office as an administrative assistant, preparing packets and materials for all GOTR SoCal coaches and local sites. 

GOTR is a life skills running program for girls ages 8-13. The program combines training for a non-competitive 5K with lessons that inspire adolescent females to recognize their individual strengths and talents. The program encourages positive emotional, social, mental, spiritual and physical development. With a detailed curriculum of games, activities, discussions, and running, girls experience the joy of simply being themselves. How wonderful is that! 

At the end of 2013, Denise and I registered to run the LA Marathon as a relay charity team. She will complete the first 13.1 miles and then hand her figurative baton to me as I finish the final 13.1 miles, running for local LA girls. As Girls on the Run SoleMates, we have volunteered to raise $250 each for the non-profit organization. I am asking you to please help me in my fundraising efforts to support such a wonderful local organization. If each one of my readers contributed just $1 I would surpass my fundraising goals. A little goes a long way! 100% of contributions will go towards sponsoring adolescent girls to participate in GOTR LA programs, girls who would otherwise not be able to afford it. Your contributions -- however large or small -- will make a lifelong difference in the journey of young girls. I believe that if girls are told they are strong and beautiful and made to feel as such, they will accomplish amazing feats.

Please help support us by clicking on this link: http://www.active.com/donate/gotrlasolemates13/smCJacobs

Thank you so much in advance! I will keep you updated on training and fundraising for the LA Charity Marathon Relay - in which I am so excited to participate in on March 9, 2014!

Check out the GOTR-LA website for more information or to get involved! They are doing amazing things. http://gotrlosangeles.org

Wrap your joy...

Yesterday morning, amidst the wrapping and unwrapping of presents, a family friend and neighbor in Albuquerque stopped by my in-laws house where we are staying. He has been reading my blog and offered up a beautifully poetic compliment: "You wrap your joy around your reality."

I reflected on these words during my run this morning. With each stride I felt more thankful and blessed for his kind statement. His words were incredibly supportive and perfectly fitting. What more can I do in this life than strive to wrap reality with my joy.

Life is hard, there is no use in denying it. So is running. But both can bring us so much joy if we allow it to seep into our lives. Some days are harder than others. Christmas time and the final week of the year can bite us harder than other days. These days are spent reflecting on the year behind us, analyzing our successes and failures, our growths and setbacks, measuring what we have learned and what we wish to forget, recalling our regrets and our blessings and planning how we will do it all again in the year ahead. Each new year provides us with a fresh start, a feeling of carpe diem.

Adara and Gpa walking to feed the ducks at UNM. Christmas Eve 2013.

I am a strong believer that our thoughts create our destiny. We can choose to dwell on the negative and the challenges that make up our life, or we can choose joy. As this neighbor pointed out, I choose joy. We create our own joy. We can not always create our own reality. Post Christmas-morning bit harder than most, quite literally. Isaac is teething hard, woke every couple of hours whining last night and has begun a nasty habit of biting me while nursing. Biting so hard that I am left bloody, burning and in pain. This morning's 5:30am bite sent me back to bad in tears. As physically painful as the biting hurt, the emotional sting was worse. I can not help but feel that he is rejecting me. My Isaac, my last baby, is cutting this mother-babe-nursing relationship off and I am just not ready. I have been through this rejection before, it is nothing new to me, though the biting is new. Both my girls rejected my nourishment between 10-11 months. Still, it hurts every time. Just like the end to any relationship, it hurts being rejected, dumped, pushed aside. As my final nursing relationship, I had planned to extend this a bit longer, at least a few months. I planned to take some final pictures, savor the last feedings. Reality has hit, teeth marks have been made, blood has been shed and I must move on.

My Isaac love, still crawling and keeping his babyhood alive.

Letting go is hard. From experience, I know the hormonal shift my brain and body are about to experience. I know the side-effects. After months of oxytocin flooding my brain every couple of hours of every single day, while sitting on a rocker, cuddling my babe and holding him to my breast, I must let go. I must make this life-change positive. Wrap it with joy! And so I climbed out of bed shortly after 6 o'clock, swallowed my tears, drank a cup of some of the best coffee on this planet (roasted by my brother-in-law/coffee roaster/buyer/expert), played with my kids and their new Christmas presents, put Isaac down for a nap and hit the road running. One hour later I was back home and at peace, ready to begin the weaning process and ready for my body and head to heal. Ready to wrap some joy around my reality. Life is hard but it can also be joyful. Wishing you all a holiday season full of love, laughter and joy!

Cesia enjoying a hot chocolate at Winning Coffee Shop,

home of coffee roaster extraordinaire, Matt Jacobsen.

Albuquerque, New Mexico.

Big sister savoring her hot cocoa at Winning.

After note: This past month has been especially busy for me, as for many of you I expect. December was focused much more on doing than reflecting for me and boy, have we done a lot. I have many posts to catch up on including: updates on half-marathon training, registering for the LA Marathon Relay as a Girls on the Run SoleMate, 2014 Marathon thoughts, our 2nd Annual Kid's North Pole Party where we hosted 18 toddlers who overflowed with joy, experienced our first family road trip to Albuquerque via Prescott where we stopped to meet new cousins and after 14 hours in the car together, grew even closer. I have lots of catching up to do, lots of plans for this blog in 2014 and lots of thanks to you -- all my readers. Please know that I am thankful for every one of you who have read my blog in 2013. I have big plans for the year ahead and look forward to sharing them with all of you soon! Thank you for sharing your time with me, for letting my thoughts seep into yours and for commenting and inspiring and motivating me. Wrap yourself with joy!

Mountains in the background and peaceful slumbers on the road.

 

And more peaceful slumbers.

 

Best part of the road trip: sitting next to this boy for 14 hours and watching him laugh, and sleep.

 

 

  

Cheers for relaxing final days of 2013!

Good Enough

Whatever happened to the "Good Enough Mother?" Though I often hear this term thrown around, I can not help but feel like no one really believes in it -- sometimes, myself included. Perhaps the problem lies inherently in the title "good enough." No one strives for mediocrity and who really wants to be called "good enough" at their job anyway? Or perhaps we just need a reminder. We are good enough.

The "Good Enough Mother" theory was proposed by Winnicot in 1952 and in doing so he raised up new mothers with the notion that mother knows best. Winnicot wrote that, "A good enough mother learns best how to look after her baby not from health professionals and self-help books but from having been a baby herself. She acts naturally." (Winnicott, 1988). Winnicott suggested that during pregnancy and the first few months postpartum, the mother undergoes a "state of heightened sensitivity." After those early months, the mother then experiences a "flight into sanity" where she begins to exist outside of her state of "primary maternal occupation" with her newborn. The "Good Enough Mother" then continues providing an environment which facilitates healthy maturational processes in her baby. She is the principal individual who protects, cares for and meets her baby's need for emotional attachment and love. Winnicot wrote that there are ".. very subtle things that the mother knows intuitively and without any intellectual appreciation of what is happening, and which she can only arrive at by being left alone and given full responsibility..." (Winnicott, 1988).

Though I constantly find myself striving to be more or the best (me), I do believe in Winnicot's theory of the "Good Enough Mother" and that as mothers, we are good enough. But then why do we often feel so inadequate? From the time Adara was a newborn and crying her lungs out in the aisles of Target, perfect strangers have approached to inform me that my baby was crying "because she is really cold" or "because she is hungry," or "because she is dressed much to warmly for this weather." Parents and grandparents and siblings and neighbors and even our own friends like to comment on our parenting. Everyone seems to know better than the mother. (Disclaimer: I am in no way pointing out anyone personally, and my own parents and in-laws are wonderful and supportive in every way. Thank you, because Lord knows I'm not a perfect mother, but I do believe I am good enough.)

In the community in which I am blessed to live, I find myself constantly surrounded by the most amazing of mothers. Mothers who lead weekly music lessons in their home, who spend hours everyday with their kids exploring on the trails or with art, letting their kids get messy because they know the importance of that. Mothers who share their love of cooking with their children by making elaborate, healthy meals on a daily basis to be shared over a loving dinner table where they discuss their day and their favorite moments and what made them happy and building up their self-esteem along the way. Mothers who inspire and motivate me, who cheer me up and support me and love me.

Amongst such wonderful mothers, sometimes I just feel that there is so much to live up to. There is so much that I want to do and all at the same time. This takes me back to one of my very favorite quotes by Jack Kerouac, which I have shared on this blog previously, "The only ones for me are the mad ones, mad to live, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time..."

That quote sums up my December thus far. I am realizing that at this time of year, more than any other, I want more out of life. I want every moment to be magical. Christmas has always been the most wonderful time of the year, full of this unadulterated spirit, and I want it to be the same for my kids. So while I don't feel overwhelmed, necessarily, I do feel like I'm trying to jam everything in just so that nothing gets left out.

Monday morning I drank a cup of coffee, I don't typically drink anything stronger than Irish Breakfast Tea, and oh boy did it get me going. We made Snowman pancakes complete with eyes, clementine noses and arms, yogurt smiles and black fig top hats. Next we were off to school, where the heaters were broken and hardworking selfless teachers were literally running to get everything set up for their own busy day of Christmas crafts with the kids. Back home, baby nursed to sleep and ready to relax on the couch and possibly catch up on bills or other home chores, I impulsively decided to put all those tasks on the back burner and get some lentil soup simmering on the front to bring in to those very teachers. But then, something had to go with that lentil soup, of course, so why not cook up some homemade cornbread! Brilliant!

Adara's Snowman Pancake -- before he was devoured within seconds. Yes, that is a gingerbread man pancake in the bottom circle. Too much Christmas fun to be had and we wanted it all.

A mere thirty minutes later and Isaac was standing in his crib, ready to play. I love our house, but it is tiny and babies' ears are sensitive. I have tried hundreds of times over four years of naps now, but I just can't cook and have my kids sleep through it. Oh well, I knew that was a risk this morning and my spirit was in the giving-mood, so with Isaac slung onto my left hip, we finished cooking that French lentil soup and homemade cornbread and loaded into the car once more to drop it off. While we're at it, why don't I pop in each of the girls' classes and read a Christmas story? I thought. Thirty minutes and two readings of "The Polar Express" later (hardcover version from one magical Christmas when I was about 7 years old), we were back in the car and headed home so the starving baby could eat some lunch. Lunch consumed and cleaned, I loaded baby boy into the triple stroller to pick up his sisters from school. I couldn't help but laugh that Isaac must think I'm a madwoman, with all this running around (quite literally). Yes, I am good at laughing at myself. : )

Last night, I was no better. Alan is out of town, the kids were all asleep by 7:30pm and I was left with a headache from forgetting to drink water all afternoon. Oops! Mental reminder #107: Take care of yourself. I was about to pass out on the couch when I discovered some cute Christmas bento box lunch ideas online. Fast forward two hours and I am in the kitchen, prepping up the girls' lunches with cute little gingerbread man cheese cut-outs and Snowmen fruit kebabs. (And Yes, these then fell on the sandy floor of our minivan this morning right as we were unloading and Cesia decided to open up her lunchbox to see what I had packed her. And Yes, I nearly cried before spending the next 10 minutes washing every cutie and cheese slice and other semi-salvageable item in the school sink to rid them of sand.) Two newly created word documents contained the cutest of cutest Christmas food ideas for our annual North Pole Party coming up next week. Two additional pages contained holiday crafts, homemade play dough recipes, and lots of home-learning fun ideas. It was past 11pm before I made myself retire for the night.

I awoke this morning with a long mental to-do list and even considered getting started at it after Isaac's 4am milk break. "Perhaps I should start waking up at this time everyday just to get stuff done," I seriously thought to myself. Alas, Cesia came rushing down the hall for a bathroom break and after some canoodling, finally cuddled up in bed with me and we were both back to sleep until Adara found us at 7am. Thank you, 2-and-a-half year old for giving me some sanity and luring me back to bed at 4am.

My sleeping angel - from an afternoon nap via run this week.

By the time 7am came around, my to-do list had somehow grown since 4 o'clock. It is already mid-December and there is just so much fun to be had. How do you fit in everything? How do you feel "Good Enough" or do you? How do you keep from feeling inadequate? Do you wrestle with the compulsion to be and do so much more? Do you feel guilty when you don't make homemade playdough or don't have a home cooked meal on the table each night for dinner? I know it sounds ridiculous, but these are the things I find myself worrying about at 4am.

Lately I feel as if I am in this place where I want to spend every second teaching my kids, through cooking, making crafts, exploring trails, running, dancing, yoga class, gymnastics class yet still saving time for naps and free play and nightly relaxing family dinners and long baths and storytime. Am I still a "Good Enough Mother" if I don't make homemade playdough? If I serve frozen pizza for dinner? If I don't do every craft in my 2-page document? I am meeting their needs, I am providing attachment and love. And you know what, they go crazy for store-bought playdough. Go figure! Sometimes we just need a reminder that we are the "Good Enough Mother" and that in and of itself is enough. Just look in your babies eyes and you will know it.

Does this baby look like he's attached and loved.
You betcha! 

A Big Thankful Post

Girls celebrating Turkey Day!

I will start out by saying that Thanksgiving has never been my favorite holiday. In fact, it has never made my top 5 list. Crammed between my favorites of Halloween and Christmas, Thanksgiving has always fallen short to those two magical days. I have never been a huge fan of turkey, I don't understand the obsession over stuffing and do not particularly love the hours of clean-up that follow the big dinner.

Yesterday, I loved. This year's Thanksgiving was quite possibly my favorite. No offense to Thanksgivings of past or family members with whom we did not share the holiday with this year. We missed you all and the day would have been that much better had you been present. My feelings for ranking yesterday as #1 all have to do with the place I am in at the moment, and that place is happy and thankful. 

Leading up to Thanksgiving, I spent a lot of time talking to the girls about being thankful. Each night for the past month we have discussed the things for which we were most thankful. "I am thankful for everyone at the dinner table," Adara repeated nightly over dinner. "I am thankful for my brother and my sister," she wrote on her holiday placemat at school." "For friends and family and my baby kitty (stuffed)," said Cesia. The meaning of the season was really present for me for the first time I can ever remember. Thanksgiving this year was not about the food, or the cooking or prep work or the stress of making everything just right. It was purely about enjoying each other and sharing our love and gratitude for all that we have. It was perfect.

I wrote previously about keeping our day simple and celebrating with our own family of five this year. That was our plan and we were excited about it, until our wonderful neighbors Kathi and Clark stopped by one Thursday morning on their morning hike. "We would love for you to join us on Thanksgiving this year," Kathi started. That was all she had to say and we were in. 

I first met Kathi and Clark while out pushing Adara in the stroller up on Mulholland. We said a quick hello, shared names, streets and smiles and they admired my new baby. Then we saw them the next day, and the next and nearly every day after on our daily morning neighborhood hike. How fortunate I am that our paths crossed - quite literally - and we got to know each other a little better with each passing. We have since become friends, Sunday school teachers together and serve on the Church and Nursery school advisory committees together. They are truly among the kindest, most giving people I know and the perfect model of a synchronous couple. We are so blessed to have them as role models and friends and to have shared the most delicious Thanksgiving meal with them and their loved ones last night. I wish I had pictures to share from the beautiful outdoor dinner but I was too busy enjoying my kids and being present in the moment. The moment was amazing.

Before Thanksgiving dinner we worked up our appetites by running the 1st Annual Downtown LA Turkey Trot. Good friend and Isaac's godmother, Ruth, had invited us a few weeks back. I convinced Alan that it would be a fun morning event and we registered online. I messaged a few other friends and they did the same. All sounded fun, until a couple days prior when we started to think about logistics. Suddenly waking up to an alarm at 5am, driving 30 miles downtown, finding parking and doing this all in the rain - as weather.com had been predicting all week - was not sounding quite so fun. But, we were all in this together and we had already forked up our $40/person for registration costs. I packed up the car Wednesday afternoon, included extra rain jackets and changes of clothes and blankets and enough food to last us a week just in case. When you go anywhere with kids, I have learned that you had better prepare for that just in case, unless you want it to end in disaster. And so Alan and I went to bed Wednesday night at 8pm both with sore throats and mild headaches and regretting our decision to have registered for this race. 

Thursday morning, Thanksgiving morning, the alarm went off and I hit snooze. Twice. I don't think I have ever hit snooze in my entire life. Seriously, I was that tired. I had been up twice during the night to a crying Isaac and bathroom break Cesia. Finally it was 5:10 and I zombie-walked in the bathroom to put on my running clothes. I wasn't sure Alan would get up at all. We had discussed plans the night before and decided that if he didn't sleep and woke up feeling sick he would stay home. I knew he had been up half the night with his typical insomnia, so I was not going to wake him. Much like Clark Kent's magical telephone booth transformation, I came out of the bathroom wide eyed and ready to race. I saw my own Superman climbing out of bed. "Are you sure you want to do this? I can go alone" I offered one last time. "It's Thanksgiving," he replied matter-of-factly. We were all in this together. We ate a quick breakfast with Cesia who woke up soon after us, grabbed a sleeping Adara and Isaac out of their beds and loaded everyone into the minivan. 5:50am and were were off to pick up Ruth and make our way downtown. 

Isaac caught some more shut eye on the drive down to the race.

On our way downtown we were blessed with stunning sunrise displays that promised this was going to be a good day. Again I didn't take any pictures, just enjoying the moment and feeding Isaac banana and bread crumbs on our way. 6:45am and we had already made it downtown. I guess driving downtown on Thanksgiving morning really is the best time traffic-wise to make the trek! Alan pulled to the side of the road, Ruth and I hopped out as gracefully as possible with three kids and a triple stroller and a bunch of baggage and we made our way to the start line as he found parking.

Soon we met up with my best friend from collegiate cycling days, Erika, who would be running her first ever race, and one of my best new mama friends, Kristy, who was a seasoned runner and had completed a marathon a few years back. Both lived downtown and were always up for adventures. We all discussed our race strategies a little bit. Though it was her first race and she had only run a handful of times, Erika is a natural athlete and a former pro cyclist. She is competitive by nature and I knew she was going to run hard and fast. Kristy and Ruth wanted to have some fun and finish happy. I wasn't sure what the heck I was going to do. I had been going back and forth all week on whether I would push the triple, push Isaac in the single and have Alan push the girls in the double (but then the two separate strollers didn't fit in our trunk), run along side Alan pushing the triple, push the triple with Alan, run alone fast, run alone slow. So many options. It was Thanksgiving, and we were all doing this together so we lined up behind crowds of masses all together. I felt like Alan wanted me to run with him and the kids, so I finally decided I would do that. 

The countdown commenced and the race was on! It took us a good 2 minutes to cross the start line with the triple stroller and the crowds of racers who all came downtown for the city's inaugural event. Alan could sense my anxiousness within the first 400 meters of jogging beside him. "This is like an obstacle course!" he excitedly told the kids. Swerving in and out of joggers and trying to move up, I was antsy. "Just go!" he turned and shouted. "Are you sure?" "Yes!" And I was off. Dashing and swerving and moving my way up, I picked off runners one by one. This is kind of fun, passing so many runners and feeling fast, I thought to myself. I had never started so far back in a race in my life and so the experience of passing so many runners was novel. The course was out and back meaning I could see Alan, the kids, Ruth, Kristy and Erika all on the other side of the road as I was nearing the finish. We all cheered for each other and I just kept on running hard. I didn't kill myself but did run hard and finished with my all. I realized that I can't come to a race and just run. I crossed the finish line in a chip time of 20:08 which was good enough for 1st in my age-group and 5th woman overall. A pace of 6:30/mile, that's the fastest I have run in quite a number of years and it felt good. 

Friends loving my kids.. there's no better feeling.

'Sup?

A volunteer cut off my chip and I crossed the street and made my way back to find Alan and the triple. He was moving fast and only had about 400 m left when I reached him. I jumped in the race and finished all together. The cheers for the triple stroller were incredible - louder than for the lead racers! Then a bunch of photographers jumped at the chance to take our pictures and comment on the craziness of a triple stroller! Alan pushed that thing up some gnarly hills to finish in 24:45. Erika ended up finishing 5th in our age group, Kristy had an awesome time herself and Ruth finished 9 minutes faster than her goal time! 

Post-race hang out!

Isaac appropriately sporting my 1st place age-group medal in his 1st ever Turkey Trot!

My cute littlest turkey!

Cool down in front of City Hall and the giant Christmas tree!

We spent the next hour hanging out on the grassy field across from City Hall, drinking free coffee from Groundworks, playing chase with the kids, watching Isaac crawl around and smile at everyone and enjoying that post-race endorphin high. "Let's do this again - make it an annual tradition," was mentioned more than a few times. Perhaps we will. In fact, yes, let's do it! Feeling grateful for so many things - among them family and friends and the opportunity to be out there together participating in my favorite activity - made for one wonderful Thanksgiving. The infectious energy of yesterday morning kept me going all day as we returned home for a neighborhood jog to give Cesia a nap (luckily it only took 15 minutes as my legs were fried), visited with neighborhood friends, watched the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade re-play on TV and walked the 1 block to Kathi and Clark's for the most marvelous Thanksgiving dinner feast. 

What did you do to make the day special? How did you celebrate? Any other Turkey Trotters out there? Apparently 80,000 runners participated in turkey trots across the nation yesterday - how cool! Are you ready for - dare I say it - Christmas? I sure am! My absolute favorite time of year and we are off to get the tree this afternoon. Happy Holidays, all!

So thankful for our wonderful family of five!

Stroller running

I woke up Saturday morning feeling antsy. Exhausted mentally and physically, I was in need of a break. Alan had been in Detroit most of the week on another work-trip and the girls were so excited to have him home Saturday morning, as was I, except that he warned me Friday night that he had to work all day Saturday. Ugh. As frustrated as I was feeling I knew that it was even harder for him. Yes, I needed a break badly from life alone with three kids, but he needed a break with these three kids in his life. The last thing he wanted to do was spend his day in the lab. Alas, he had a big presentation and a busy week (and month) ahead and simply no time to get everything done. To work it was this Saturday.

As much as I love running with the kids, I had been yearning for a day off from the stroller. It's heavy, it's slow, my back and arms were sore (stroller running really is a full body workout, especially triple stroller running) and I just needed some alone time. It would have to wait. We spent the morning having fun at a 2-year-old birthday party. It was fun, it was perfect, the mom did an amazing job cooking and crafting and prepping all sorts of creative activities for the little ones. But, when you already feel the itch for a break from kids, being around 20-30 additional kids does not exactly scratch that itch. What I needed was a run. Driving home from the party, I told the girls we were going to "Get home and hop straight into the stroller for a fun run!" They complained a bit at first, as they often do, though once in there they love it.

Then Cesia fell asleep, in the car. Ugh, she had been up since 5am and she needed a nap so I hated to wake her. As much as she needed sleep, I needed a run. What to do? Man, if Alan were home, on a Saturday, as he should be, I could have just left her at home asleep in the car with him as babysitter, I began to think. Frustration was filling my head and patience was dissipating from my body. Adara was annoying me for no good reason and Isaac was getting into everything - climbing into the dishwasher, spilling Snowball (our cat's) water, pulling out every single plastic plate and cup from the drawer, tossing a stainless steel mug repeatedly onto the ground, clinging and clinking and climbing up my legs as I tried to wash a single dish, and slipping and whining and.. I needed to get out of here.

An hour had passed, Cesia was still slumbering away in her carseat when I loaded Adara and Isaac into the triple. Next I attempted to transfer a sleeping Cesia to her seat in the mother-load stroller. Of course the transfer did not go smoothly. She woke up instantly, groggy, crabby and seconds later was screaming. Yelping about everything and anything. Now what was I going to do, run down the streets pushing 130+ lbs of weight uphill with a shrieking child? What fun! And on a Saturday of all days, when I was supposed to get in a solo run. I considered calling up a friend and begging her to Please watch my two girls, one of whom was screaming her brains out, for an hour while I ran alone with Isaac. I could handle running with one kid, surely, but three on a day like this.. I was not so sure. I picked up my phone and then changed my mind. We had the triple for this very reason, for days like this, and so we were off. Maybe we would turn around in 5 minutes and call it a day. Who knew?

Thankfully, Adara had grabbed two chocolate coins on her way out the door and one of these was handed to Cesia as a peace offering. She accepted, ate, quieted down and 5 minutes up the road was passed out again! Alleluiah! The girl really was tired and slept for the next 2 hours. God had heard my prayer this Saturday afternoon and blessed me with a day-changing, marriage-saving, inspiring, meditative 90 minute long run.

For 90 minutes I sang an ode to the triple stroller.. in my head. I was breathing too heavily from the 130 lbs I was pushing up hill to actually sing out loud, to your favor, neighbors. Stroller running surprises and amazes me. Four years ago I dreaded every single run with a stroller. I couldn't find the right stride, my arms ached, my back burned, it was so different from running alone. Why would anyone run with a stroller? I would surely rather wake an extra hour earlier and get out there alone. Months passed and I got used to the single, a little bit. I now realize that you get what you pay for when it comes to running strollers. We paid $99 for a jogging stroller found at Costco. It did the job, but not well. It has since been sent to the trash. Then I got pregnant with Cesia. Enter the Chariot double trailer with jogging kit attachment. This baby got me into shape and fast. More than that, it made me love stroller running.

Running with my two girls every afternoon became our thing, an activity, something to get us through those long afternoons and a means of napping for both girls as Adara refused to nap in bed any longer. Miles of road and trails covered with my girls and life-long memories made along the way. The double stroller became my refuge.

I absolutely love being a stay at home mother, but there is no use in denying the long lonely afternoons that can creep up. Motherhood is hard, especially before your kids are verbal enough to hold a conversation. You spend 12 hours with these beautiful, but needy beings who can't even talk back to you. You hear your own voice all day explaining and pointing out things and teaching the world to them. You get little back in return. As intriguing as child development can be, the first two years can be mind-numbing for a stay at home parent. I was used to constant stimulation academically, mentally and physically. Just 2 months before Cesia's birth I was finishing my Master's Degree in Integrative Physiology from UCLA and working in a Neuroscience research lab there. My brain was being challenged on an hourly basis. Now I was home with at least one child in my arms at any (every!) given second, changing diapers, wiping bottoms, cooking, cleaning and serving as full time slave to my 19 month old and newborn daughters. Running was my escape.

I know many mothers -- especially new mothers -- are in the same boat. We are crazy busy, but bored. We miss intellectual stimulation and physical challenges. We want to be there with our children every second to raise them to be well-adapted, attached beings yet we need some alone time. We don't want to pay for a babysitter or go to a gym with daycare where our children will simply be plopped in front of a TV screen and handed dirty plastic toys while we sweat away. The running stroller can save you. I know it sounds dramatic, but it can. I am a firm believer that the most important thing you can give your kids is your time. All they need is your time, attention and love. These three things are far more important than the latest toy or outfit. They just want to be with you. When I am running with them, rather than dropping them off with a sitter or neighbor, I am sharing my life and passion with them. They see that and feel that.

As much as I love running with my kids, sometimes I do dread it, like I did last Saturday. You will dread it some days. You will look for other outlets and consider other options like hiring a babysitter, or dropping your kids off at a neighbor's house. Sometimes those are good options. But you will also surprise yourself, like I did this past Saturday. Stroller running will surprise you by how peaceful and soothing it is to run with your kids and watch them sleep (Isaac and Cesia both slept for 90 minutes) and listen to them talk (Adara sat there chatting away in her own world) and play "I-spy" and "Find the letter __" and all the little games we employ while out there in the world together.

You will also inspire others. And turn heads. Not a single run goes by that I do not get at least one cheer or honk or comment on "My three kids!" or "You're tough!" We are tough. We are mothers. We are runners. I guess there aren't that many triple stroller runners out there. I rarely meet other running mothers and I think it's largely because people are intimidated. There are hundreds of thousands of runners out there, yet few mothers who run with their kids. As a new mother I think this can be the most beneficial time in your life to be running. I'd love to do something to get more mothers out there running with their babies, believing in themselves and feeling better about themselves. Any suggestions? It's something that is always on my mind..

I debated for months whether to get a triple stroller. My main concern was whether I could actually run with it. I didn't want it just for walking. I don't like to walk. For me, it's slow, it's boring, I like to run and feel the wind in my hair and sweat on my face. I like a good challenge. I read every review I could find on the internet for every triple stroller I could find. Most were disheartening. Most said they were simply too heavy, too wide, too big. Many people were selling theirs for these same reasons. Then I found Dorothy Beal at mile-posts.com. She ran with a triple stroller and ran fast. As of last week she has run 26 marathons and she wasn't born a runner. She was overweight, depressed and needing something when her mother convinced her to try running with her. Her story is incredible. I don't know Dorothy, but her writing was enough to inspire me to run fast with a triple stroller, too. My good friend Jean convinced me, too. "Yeah, you may not be able to run as fast with a triple stroller, but I know you can run with it." She believed in me. Sometimes you just need that little push, that one person who believes in you.

Let me be the one to tell you that it is not too heavy, too big or too wide to run with. If you want to run with a stroller -- whether it be single, double or triple -- you can do it. If you want to run with your child, explore nature, spend the afternoon outdoors doing something for yourself but not alone, you can do it. The running stroller -- I will not call it jogging stroller because it's more than that -- is made to run with and you can do it. Is it going to be easy? No. Are there going to be days you curse it and wish you could just get out there alone? Yes. But will you enjoy it? Yes. If you are new to stroller running, it will take getting used to, but it is so worth it. I am not a material person, but I can't imagine our lives without this stroller.

Saturday was a crabby, whiny, rough day where I needed a break. I pushed 3 kids up and around our hills for 90 minutes and was transformed. Every run with the stroller is like that. You come back feeling empowered, invincible, hungry for more and thankful that you are fit and healthy and can spend these moments with your child. And one day, they will thank you for it, too. Saturday afternoon we finished up our run and came inside to make hot cacao since it was 51 degrees outside -- which corresponds to "freezing" on LA thermometers. "This is the best day EVER, Mama. Thank you!" came out of my 4 year old Adara's mouth. Long run + warm creamy chocolatey (almond) milk = best day ever. I agree.

Even our mailman gave me a hug when he pulled up later that afternoon to deliver our daily ads. "I saw you running up Rosario (our steepest local hill) with that stroller and wow, I was very impressed. You are amazing." Kind words can go far.

Oh, and Sunday afternoon I got my solo run. And you know what? It was boring, nothing to write home about, definitely not life-changing. The running stroller is where it's at.

Best day ever! At the end of our 90 minute family run.

A Good Friday

Last night I realized that I have not written about running in some time. So today I'll write a little about running. My foot is feeling great and I am back up and running again. I am being cautious, though, and listening to my body more closely than perhaps ever before. Sitting out for two weeks screwed with me mentally, more than physically, and I don't want to go through that again.

Today was a good day. Isaac slept straight until 6:30am and I got to stay warm in bed until then as well. Alan is back home and was happy to see Cesia at 5:30 this morning after a few days away from her. We had a wonderful family breakfast, then I dropped the girls off at preschool with lunches so that they could stay until 12:30 or 1 in case Isaac napped long. That is exactly what he did. Little boy slumbered peacefully for nearly 3 hrs. Three hours of uninterrupted work allowed me to finish our annual family photo album for 2013. It looks great and I just need to finish some final edits tonight before proceeding to checkout. I take a LOT of pictures of my kids and I love having a yearly album printed out of all my favorites to look back and review throughout the year(s). Cesia especially loves them, too and at least once a weeks asks me, "Please read my Cesia book to me!" Girl loves pictures of herself. : )

Once Isaac was up, I bundled him up for the 50 degree Fall weather we are finally enjoying after a few weeks in the 80-90's again. This is heaven. I love these cold, windy, rainy days. Ultimate running weather. So we bundled up, strapped baby boy into the triple stroller and completed a speed workout on flat roads near the girls' preschool. Two mile warm-up, 6x200 meters hard with 200 meter jog recoveries, 1 mile cool-down and then straight to pick up big sisters from school. Speedwork with a triple stroller is hard, especially into a headwind. I would have loved to do it with Isaac in the Bob instead but it made no sense to run and then have to get in the car to pick up Adara and Cesia, so we tackled two jobs at the same time and extended the cool-down with a 2 mile run back home in which Cesia passed out. Once home she slept out front in the stroller for another 2 hours covered with two heavy wool blankets.

Sleepy sister and happy brother.

Adara, Isaac and I enjoyed a long lunch at home of homemade kale and black-eyed pea stew that I have been munching on for three days now and delicious cornbread muffins from my sweet friend and amazing cook who just happens to live up the street. Pineapple guavas were our dessert of choice -- picked from another neighbor's tree yesterday afternoon. Eating local can be so easy and tasty. After lunch I let the kids play on the kitchen floor around my feet while I cooked up a very green broccoli quinoa casserole for tonight's dinner. Mmmm.. this mama is excited for dinner tonight! I am back on a good cooking streak where everything seems to come together smoothly and effortlessly. There are many days when that doesn't happen and we are left scrounging together a "smorgasbord dinner."  Smorgasbord dinner is really a fancy word in our house for meaning a plate full of random items found in our fridge and cabinets at the end of a busy week. We must celebrate the little victories, because you never know when they will happen next. Tonight we will eat like Kings. And our wonderful neighbor just dropped off some organic chocolate truffles she picked up at Whole Foods this afternoon. So we are in for a good evening!

Very Green Casserole. Full of Kale, Chickpeas, Broccoli, Quinoa and other good stuff.

My little kitchen helper. Little boy getting into trouble.

The wind is gushing outside, the sun hasn't really made an appearance all day and we could not be happier. Even my legs feel happy -- full of that good achy feeling that only comes after a hard workout.  Have a great weekend, all! We have a jam-packed schedule ahead but all fun stuff - should be good.

My three running partners.