Life as a Broken Marble

Marble

Photo: Wolfgang Lonien on Flickr

It has been a long time since I wrote here. While I always have the desire to let the creativity flow, I don’t always have the energy or the inclination to do so. However, I received a note not too long ago – a message from a complete stranger… a lady in Winnipeg – that touched my heart and gave me enough of a nudge to come back and spill the contents of my heart.

It has been 2 years since I married Big Mack. We just celebrated our anniversary in sunny Nuevo Vallarta, Mexico… 10 days alone together indulging ourselves, reconnecting… resetting.

It was so nice to have that time to spend side-by-side, talking, enjoying one another and contemplating where we’ve come from and where we’re going. See, when people get married for the first time they get to spend time basking in the newlywed bliss. They get to spend quality time together at home with no distractions. They get to go out to social occasions and events together and show one another off, flirting shamelessly and just generally being a little sickening.

Second marriages – with kids involved – are different. Very different.

As much as you can read about the challenges of blending families, I don’t think anything can ever really prepare you for it. It’s sort of like having your first baby. You read the “What to Expect” books and every other resource you can get your hands on. You have your birth plan ready to go, you know how you’re going to feed your baby, put your baby to sleep and where he’ll go to college before he’s even born… But then that baby arrives and you’re thrown into the 24/7-ness that is parenting and you’re thinking, “Wow. This is just generally more/bigger/harder than I imagined.” But you learn… and you grow… and you adjust.

Blending a family is a little like that.

Now this post isn’t a grand confession or anything. I’m not on the verge of divorce and I’m not crying out for help here. It’s just some ideas… some thoughts… some things to consider. Some things for others to ponder. I’ve always found honest, raw, real sharing to be the path to healing even at the risk of putting it all out there. What comes back to me is always worth it… advice, messages from others experiencing similar things… prayers, new ideas, new hope…

One day, not too long ago, it dawned on me: A family is like a marble.

When two people get married and have babies together, not only does that marriage join them together, but even more so the very fact that they create a life (or two, or three or more) between them just solidifies that bond. They will never again be completely separate from one another or from their children. They will always be family together in one way or another. That family – the natural family… the nuclear family – is like a marble: smooth, perfect, structurally sound. And it’s beautiful.

When a marriage ends you’re left with half a marble.

You can find another half marble that will complement your half marble really well. In fact, if you find just the right other broken half, you can stick the two halves together very carefully and end up with something very similar to a perfect marble… it’s round, smooth, looks like a marble… but in that crack – where the two halves have been glued together – is a weakness that can never be as solid as the original two marbles those broken pieces came from.

That crack requires maintenance, extra care, and a lot of extra grace.

Extra glue must be constantly applied or the two pieces will continue to come undone at exactly the same place as they were when they were two broken halves. Sometimes it just feels like as much as I just want those two halves to fuse together permanently, they’re just not able.

The marble is not the marriage. The marble is not the parenting. The marble is the household… the family. The parenting cannot be separated from the marriage. When you marry someone with kids, you marry their kids too. You take on the responsibility for parenting in some manner at the very least. You make a vow to those children to love them and care for them and help them to grow into who they will become.

Parenting is hard work. I’ve written about that beforea few times. I feel the weight of my role as a mother. I feel the weight of my role as a step-mother.

With our own children, we give of ourselves every last shred of energy. The tasks are unending: we love them and feed them and clothe them and wash them and buy them things and read to them and teach them and discipline them and clean up after them. We potty train them and teach them to ride a bike. We teach them to read and to clean up after themselves. We teach them how to become who God created them to be and we hope that one day we will get to look at them and stand in awe… pleased with the result… knowing all our tireless hard work has paid off.

Giving that kind of energy to another person’s child requires an almost supernatural kind of selflessness that, to be honest, I don’t always have.

Step-parenting is not the same as parenting. In some ways it’s easier. As a step-mom I’m free to just enjoy the Mack kids. I bear no ultimate responsibility for making decisions on their behalf. Also, because I am neither Mom nor Dad, I have an opportunity to be a (perhaps) slightly more neutral third party… an ear to listen and be an objective advice-giver without being as emotionally invested in the outcome of the kids’ choices. I talk to them, I ensure they’re fed, have clean clothes, get to their extra-curricular activities and get to bed at night.

I want to be VERY clear here… I LOVE these kids. They are awesome kids. Having said that, I know at the very least Miss Mack will read this post and she must know with all certainty that I care VERY deeply for all three of them and I am in this for the long haul. But I’m kind of extra. That’s what it feels like. I’m a spare… a backup. A bonus parent. And where there is a freedom that comes from a lesser emotional investment, there is a lesser reward to be gained from the sheer work involved. I am not the one they want to celebrate with. I am not the one they reach for when they need a hug. I am not their first choice.

But I am a plain old ordinary human woman with a need to feel appreciated for my efforts. I need to feel encouraged and loved and supported in the midst of the chaos. I need to believe I’m doing things well. I need to know someone else believes in what I’m working for and trusts that my heart is genuine. I need to know the time and effort and energy I’m pouring into this broken marble is not pointless.

With everything in me I need to be my husband’s first choice.

And since no one is the perfectly-supportive, ever-loving, always-gentle, kind and patient spouse, the glue begins to weaken. The two pieces begin to slip apart and the only thing that holds them together is hope… trust… forgiveness… and grace.

That’s what the glue is made of.

My prayer is that as the years go on, we’ll find the glue does, in fact, get stronger and stronger… that the weakness fades and the marble can be appreciated for its own merits – even if it a little damaged. It is, after all, very beautiful and I love it very much.

Never Too Much

Our children need our love. They need our love unconditionally. They need our love regardless of their behavior. They need our love to land in every time they get it wrong. They need our love to rejoice in every time they get it right. They need our love to know they are okay just as they are. They need our love to guide them. They need our love to discipline them and they need our love to wipe away the tears of frustration as they learn. They need our love to teach them right from wrong and they need our love to let them fall down from time to time. They need our love to patch them up when they do fall and to push them to take that very next step afterwards. They need our love to reach out to them with a gentle touch. They need our love to reach out with a stern word. They need our love to set the limits on their freedom. They need our love to let them know they can soar well above the false chains that hold them down. They need our love to rebuke the lies people tell about them. They need our love to trust that everything is going to be okay.

You can never love a child too much.

Finding the Sweet Spot

So many thoughts. So little time. Life-streaming in snippets seems infinitely easier than organizing my thoughts into anything you may wish to read. But I know people are curious. I’ve had total strangers approach me on the street to tell me they’ve been watching. People I don’t know ask me what I’ve been doing and express their excitement and bewilderment at the transformation they’ve seen unfold slowly.

So I suppose it’s safe to say I’ve done it successfully.

I said back in March that I was going to do it. That I was doing it. I don’t know how I knew I would. I just knew. I was determined to find the sweet spot.

There’s a mathematical perfection about the sweet spot. It lives right between the energy you expend every day and the energy your body needs to carry out what you’re demanding of it. Finding the sweet spot makes the entire process nearly effortless. It takes time and patience to find it, but it’s well worth it to seek after it.

I’m convinced that finding the sweet spot has nothing to do with counting points, low-carb, low-fat, paleo, Atkins, vegan, South Beach, juicing, wheat-free, intermittent fasting, food combining, or starving. It has nothing to do with restriction, can’t have, must avoid, and only-on-my-birthday. It has everything to do with mathematics and biology.

The good news is the biology is pretty much the same for everyone on the planet. So then it becomes a simple mathematical equation.

Every day you burn a certain amount of calories that can be easily lumped into 3 categories:

  1. Basal Metabolic Rate (BMR): The number of calories your body will burn in 24 hours to support vital organ function i.e. heart beating, maintaining core temperature, breathing etc. You could describe this as the number of calories your body would burn if you were alive but comatose. You can find your BMR in any number of places, like here, here or here.
  2. Exercise Expenditure: The number of calories burned doing specific exercise/sports activity. The best way to estimate these is using a heart rate monitor that uses your age, gender, height and weight in its calculations. You can also use a variety of online calorie burn estimators like this one, this one, and this one.
  3. Non-Exercise Activity Thermogenesis (NEAT): The calories you burn doing everything ELSE you do in a day – showering, eating, reading, working, talking, driving, changing diapers, cleaning stuff etc.

(There is a 4th category, and that’s the thermic effect of food, which is the calories burned digesting what you eat. This number can change based on what you eat and slightly alter your daily calorie burn, but for simplicity’s sake I’m not going to discuss it further. Just know it exists and if you’re a numbers nerd you can look it up yourself. It only makes up maybe 10% of your daily calorie burn anyway.)

The sum of those 3 categories is what I’ll call your Total Daily Energy Expenditure (TDEE).

When I wrote back in March about my weight loss efforts I mentioned Weight Watchers but I switched to simple calorie counting on MyFitnessPal. Here’s why: I wanted to make sure I was eating to support my running. While I did want to lose weight, I ALSO wanted to run well. Those two things are actually hard to accomplish together. Running requires a lot of energy. Energy comes from calories in the food you eat. Losing weight requires eating less energy than you need. Creating too large a deficit by eating too little can not only be counterproductive for athletic performance, but it can be downright damaging to your basic metabolic function.

Balancing your energy requirement with your energy intake is finding the sweet spot.

The sweet spot lives in between your BMR and your TDEE. There’s the secret. Yes, it really is that simple. You can thank me later.

Here’s what I know. I know my BMR. It’s a basic function of height, weight, and age (and body fat percent depending on the research model you use, but can be estimated fairly accurately without this detail). My BMR is approximately 1500 calories daily. What I can also find out fairly easily is the number of calories I burn for each cardiovascular workout I complete. Online calculators help with that, but as a runner I used my Garmin 410 running watch with the heart-rate monitor. It would just give me my burn for each workout. What’s harder to determine is my NEAT burn, so forget about it for now.

Here’s what worked for me: I took my BMR as a base number of 1500, added 100 to ensure I wasn’t eating below my BMR, and added my workout calories burned to ensure I was adequately fueling every workout. That’s how much I ate every day.

Every day I ate 1600 calories plus all my workout calories, which usually landed somewhere between 300 and 1000 depending on the day or the workout. So at minimum I was eating 1900 calories per day on a workout day and 1600 on a rest day. If I wanted to go to a summer BBQ and enjoy a burger and a dessert, I’d just make sure I worked out that day.

Easy.

Now, my workouts consisted of running 4 days a week and 2 cross training days (I usually did Insanity videos, cycling or some kind of exercise class like Jorg Mardian‘s bootcamp at Vengeance Fitness) with one rest day. But I’m totally convinced that the sweet spot is the same for ANY exercise regimen.

“How do you lose weight then?” You might ask. Why would you want to eat the calories you burn doing exercise? Well remember the NEAT burn? It turns out those crazy people (whomever they were) who suggested that just simply moving more – taking the stairs instead of the elevator, parking farther from the door, standing instead of sitting, walking instead of driving, hand washing dishes instead of using a dishwasher even… they were right. Those activities all add up to a fairly significant chunk. In fact, that’s where my weight loss came from. All the stuff that isn’t exercise. The exercise just actually allowed me to eat more, which just makes dieting WAY easier. I get a bit squirelly when I feel overly restricted.

I didn’t pay too much attention to “macros” – Carbs, protein and fats. Nor did I cut out any particular type of food. I eat desserts and junk foods in moderation. I drink alcohol too. The only thing I did do and continue to do is to get adequate protein. There is some research to suggest a high level of protein helps to minimize the catabolic effect of dieting i.e. eating at a caloric deficit. In other words, eating at least 1g of protein per pound of lean body mass or roughly .8g for every pound of body weight will help preserve your existing muscle from being broken down as an energy source. So within my calorie goal I’d aim for 120g or more of protein and let fats and carbs land where they will.

So here’s a summary of what I’ve accomplished in 2012:

  • I lost 34 lbs between January 10th and September 30th
  • I achieved a 10k PR at the Sun Run in April of 57:38
  • I completed the Seek The Peak Relay (Solo division) in 2:32:04
  • I completed the Lululemon SeaWheeze Half Marathon in 2:00:18
  • I ran a 5k test run on my own, setting a PR at 24:49
  • I completed a 12km Super Spartan Race – my first obstacle race

Since October 1st I switched my focus from running exclusively to strength training while maintaining a bare minimum running mileage. I now alternate between running (10km and under), heavy weight training (Stronglifts 5×5) and rest days. So I’m only working out 2 days out of every 3, but rest days are very important when building muscle. I’m also eating right around my TDEE at about 2300 calories per day.

Since beginning the Stronglifts program and cutting my running back I have lost another 3 lbs and gained incredible strength. I did my first chin-up ever and am lifting some huge weights. My most recent working sets have been:

  • Squats: 180 lbs
  • Bench Press: 115 lbs
  • Barbell Rows: 95 lbs
  • Overhead Press: 75 lbs
  • Deadlifts: 170 lbs

In January I will begin running higher mileage again and probably cutting back on the lifting. It’s almost impossible to focus on both endurance running and heavy lifting at the same time. For now I want to get stronger. In 2013 I will change up my training to include more trail running and conditioning exercises in order to tackle the Tough Mudder in June.

I remember back in 2002/03 – when I lost a lot of weight the first time – people were quick to spread rumors and assume I must had developed an eating disorder. It kind of makes me giggle. Not eating disorders – they’re no laughing matter – but the idea that I am starving myself. I love food WAY too much for that. But I also love a challenge.

I don’t want to sound like some kind of infomercial, but I know there are load of people just like me out there who would love to take off extra pounds and do something that makes them feel brave and strong. Maybe I’m coming up on a mid-life crisis of epic proportions. I don’t know. But what I do know is it’s possible. If it’s possible for me, it’s possible for you.

You just have to find the sweet spot… and live there.

Praying my heart out

Photo: Takras on Flickr

I have many friends. In fact, I count myself blessed to have such a multitude of amazing people in my life. Today, however, there’s one friend I’m thinking about. I can’t get her off my mind. My heart has been aching for her for the last four days.

See, this friend of mine has asked for my help… she asked for a favor:

She asked me to pray.

I am humbled and honored that she would come to me. That she would ask me to lend her my faith in her time of need, I believe, speaks to the power of God in my life and in hers. I have prayed for her several times since I received that email.  The bible tells us in 1 Thessalonians 5:17 to “pray continually”. I believe the reason I can’t stop thinking about my friend and her circumstances is the Holy Spirit of God reminding me to pray for her.

My friend is pregnant. And scared. There are complications.

I hear people say all the time, “God never gives you more than you can handle.” That’s not true. I’m convinced that God will give you infinitely more than you can handle on your own in this life. I’m convinced that God will allow you to experience deep hurts or horrifying fears in order to draw your attention to Him. He will absolutely give you more than you can handle.

But He is more than able and willing to carry our burdens for us… to be our strength when we are weak. Jesus said, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” [2 Corinthians 12:19] The truth is, God will never give you more than you can handle WITH HIM.

Jesus tells us, in the book of John, chapter 15 and verse 5, “apart from me, you can do nothing.” But in Matthew 19, verse 26 we read, “with God all things are possible.” Oh how beautiful are those words… He is more than willing to carry you through your fears and your pains and take up all the weight of what is hurting you:

28 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” [Matthew 11:28-30]

Through all of life’s trials I think my favorite verses of the entire bible are these:

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” [Phil 4:6-7]

I have known that peace.

Tonight, my prayer for my friend is that she would come to know that peace as well. I wanted to share this prayer, so that those of you reading it might also join me in faith as she is going for some testing tomorrow:

Heavenly Father, Creator God… tonight I bring you my friend. You know her, Lord. You know everything about her. You created Her just as she is for just this moment. Father, as your Word says, you created her inmost being. You knit her together in her mother’s womb… just as you have this tiny baby in her own. Father, God, I trust in your sovereignty. I trust that you ARE love (1 John 4:8). I trust that you have created my friend and her baby for a specific purpose. I pray, Lord, that you would show her your amazing grace through this trial. I pray, Lord, that you would shower her with your mercy right now. I pray, Lord, that you would make your nearness known to her… that you would reveal yourself to her in a way she has never known. I pray, Father, that you would take her mustard seed of faith and let her see the power of that faith move even this mountain that lies before her. Overwhelm her with your peace and surround her with your joy, Lord, as only you can. Heavenly Father, I pray for your favor on her baby. Father, you are merciful [Luke 6:36]. I pray for your mercy in this pregnancy… that this baby, whom she already loves with an unending love, would be healthy and thriving. I pray that you would bless my friend with the best doctors, nurses and technicians and that your hand would guide every move, every decision that would be made for this new little life. I pray also for her husband and the strength and solidarity in her marriage. I pray for her family also, that they would be united with a holy love and compassion for one another and for this baby. Lord, I pray for a powerful movement of your Holy Spirit to work a miracle that will see you glorified in it. Father, as I pray right now, please heal the broken places. Mend the weaknesses and let your power be known. In Jesus’ name I pray, Amen.

My heart on my sleeve

Today is not a good day. I mean, it’s a good day… I’m alive; my family is healthy; we have a lovely home and enough to eat. So I’m grateful. I’m grateful for this life. I’m grateful for everything God has brought me through and I’m grateful for the future that lies ahead of me.

But I’m scared.

And I’m stressed out.

I’m scared that I’m failing at being a mom. I’m scared that my children are going to grow up to be less than they could be. I’m scared that I’m going to wreck them. I’m scared because I don’t know what they need. I’m scared of being inconsistent with them. I’m scared that they’re going to be spoiled. I’m scared the wounding they’ve experienced is going to scar them forever.

I’m scared because I can’t create their future.

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:6-7 ESV)

I have held on to this verse for a long time. I have it engraved on a ring I wear. I reach for this verse whenever I feel stressed. I have felt a ton of God’s peace through a lot of significant stuff, but I consistently lose my cool when it comes to parenting. Maybe it’s an indication that I haven’t given my kids over to the will of God. I wrote this just a few short months ago:

What I need to do is remember that my kids are only on loan to me. I have been charged with loving them, teaching them and protecting them but I MUST remember that they belong to God; and parenting is God’s work. He is the one who bears the ultimate responsibility for how they turn out. He is the one who created them with a plan and purpose. He is the one that will work in their hearts as we scatter seeds of faith in their lives and aim, by the grace of God, to pour out the fruits of the spirit in our homes – love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. [From With the grace of a kindergarten teacher - published December 16, 2011]

Maybe I still can’t wrap my head around it.

Sometimes my stress is from having a toddler. Mine is an ornery one too. He has been since the day he was born. Mini-man, on the other hand, was never that way. He was the sweetest toddler imaginable. He was agreeable, adaptable, kind, empathetic, loving… here’s a little video from when he was 3 1/2 years old. Not too many kids would shrug that off and laugh.

But mine did.

But now, at 6, he seems so uncertain. I know he’s smart. I know he’s perceptive. But he completely lacks self-discipline in every way and has no regard for authority at all. Some days I’m afraid he’s going to become a sociopath and other days I just think he’s the best thing since sliced bread. Most days, though, are a blend of the two. Most days include asking him to do the same things over and over. Most days include telling him NOT to do the same things over and over. Most days include yelling and time outs and apologies without change. Most days I feel like I’m banging my head up against a wall.

Today is one of those days.

I’ve tried time-outs. I’ve tried the naughty chair. I’ve tried spanking. I’ve tried yelling. I’ve tried taking away toys and TV and movies and Wii and other privileges. I’ve tried a combination of all of the above. I’ve tried more one-on-one time. I’ve tried more sleep. I’ve tried more encouragement and more grace. I’ve tried everything I know how to try and still it seems like my kid is the one who is always in trouble.

Sometimes I find myself saying, “What happened to him?!” But I know what happened… his daddy died. His life was flipped upside down. His heart was broken. His little soul was wounded… and there’s nothing I can do to change what happened.

Every decision I’ve made since Dave died I’ve made with my kids’ best interests in mind. It was Dave that was adamant that his boys needed a strong Christian father and it was Dave that wanted his kids to grow up in a nice house in a nice community. I have done all I can to give our kids the future he wanted them to have… the future we wanted for them together. And I will continue to do everything in my power to raise them the way I believe he would have wanted.

But I can’t bring him back for them.

So now I don’t know if this fundamental shift in Mini-man’s personality is forever. I don’t know if it’s because he lost his dad or if it is just a normal developmental stage. I don’t know if it’s because I re-married and moved him to a new community. I don’t know if it’s because I am too lenient or too strict. I don’t know if it’s because I discipline him too much or because I don’t celebrate enough his successes. I don’t know if he knows how much I love him. I don’t know if he feels secure. I don’t know how to help him find his authentic self. I’m not sure he will ever be back quite the way he was. I’m not sure he ever should be… after all, he’s growing and changing and learning every day. Each new day is shaping his future to something new but to what? It feels like my heart is torn out. I can’t make it better.

I can’t fix him.

Maybe tomorrow will be better. Maybe tomorrow he’ll return to kindergarten and be able to listen to his teacher. Maybe tomorrow he’ll remember to clean up his breakfast dishes after himself. Maybe tomorrow I won’t have to ask him 6 times to put his shoes on. Maybe tomorrow he will do as the playground supervisor tells him to do without talking back. Maybe tomorrow he will earn back one of the toys I took away today. Maybe tomorrow I will be a better mom than I am today.

Maybe I’m just crazy. Maybe this is normal.

Maybe it will all be okay.

A Renaissance… of sorts

ouch

Ouch! ^^ Who IS that girl?!

I was once a fat kid. Actually, I was a fairly fat young adult too. If you’re a regular reader you know I have written about my weight struggles before. This is nothing new.

On that post ^ I showed some photos from my original goal weight… the weight I was when I married Dave. What I didn’t show you was the before pic. So here it is.

Crazy huh? That was me at about 26 years of age in 2001 or early 2002.

So every day I live my life knowing that I once made it from that “before” pic to my goal weight – some 60 lbs less than that. I know how to do this.

It’s not easy, but I’m doing it again.

Now I know what you’re thinking… I know that in that other post I wrote I said I was ready to take the weight off again… and I know that was early in 2009. I wasn’t ready. I wanted to be ready. But the amount of commitment required to make such a drastic life change is something that either comes or it doesn’t. No amount of wanting it will make it so. You have to not only want it, but be ready and willing to do what’s needed to make it happen. As it turned out, it wasn’t long after I wrote that post that I found out we were expecting Mini-Boy; the timing just wasn’t right for me.

In January of this year, however, I decided it was time to get things going again. No, it wasn’t a New Year’s resolution, but just an acceptance that I’m not getting any younger and if I’m going to do this, I should do it soon.

I’ll be 37 this summer.

Thirty seven is really, REALLY close to 40. I want to roll into my 40s in the best shape of my life. I want to be in better shape than I was after losing 60 lbs and running my first Half Marathon in 2003. I don’t want to age gracefully. I want to grow stronger. I want my body to function as it was designed to. I want it to keep working for a really long time. I want to teach my kids to enjoy sports and revel in their own strength. I want to see my muscles. I want the Mack girls to learn that it’s better to be strong than to be skinny; it’s better to be confident in who you are than to aim for some unattainable perfection.

I still have goals. Lofty ones too.

So this year I’m back to running and I’m back to Weight Watchers Online. I’ve signed up for the SeaWheeze Lululemon Half Marathon in August and I’m planning to run the Seek The Peak Relay (Solo) at Grouse Mountain in June. I think I’m also going to take a stab at a new 10km PR at the Vancouver Sun Run in a couple of weeks. Even Big Mack is on board with me and will run his first 5km race in Summerland in June!

Because I’m a little older and a little wiser than I was when I was running pre-kids, I’ve decided to do a Half Marathon training program that only includes 3 runs/week and two days of cross training. I’ve been taking a High Intensity Interval Training type class from Jorg Mardian of Mardian in Motion since December. I can’t believe the awesome results I’m seeing from that class. I also think it’s having an amazing impact on my running too.

In fact, I’m loving the interval training so much, Big Mack and I decided to buy a video series to do at home when we can’t get to Jorg’s class. It’s called Insanity by Beachbody. We’ve just just about completed a home renovation project to finish our basement to add a 6th bedroom (so all the kids have their own rooms) and a home gym. I can’t wait to get it all set up and be able to really stay consistent with my training.

So how am I doing so far? In the last 10 weeks I have:

  • Lost 14 lbs in total
  • Lost 3 1/2″ off my waist
  • Lost 2″ off my hips
  • Lost 3″ off my bust
  • Lost 2 dress sizes
  • Run out of holes on my belt
  • Run my first sub-1hr 10km since 2003

Last week I ran 27km, took 3 Interval Training Classes and went snowboarding once.

Now, I still have about 20 lbs to lose but I’m only about 7 lbs over where I was when I ran my first half marathon in 2003. This year, I’m hoping to be leaner by the time the race rolls around and I’m hoping to beat my time of 2:08:02. I know I’m almost 10 years older, but I think I can still do it.

Who knows? Maybe I’m crazy…

On the diet front, Big Mack and I are making a concerted effort to eat a clean diet. I first got excited about this concept when I read Jillian Michaels’ book Master Your Metabolism and wrote a little about my clean eating efforts here. I think this is the key. As much as I love the flexibility with Weight Watchers to be able to eat a doughnut every now and again, I know the refined foods, the GMOs, the corn products, the additives and garbage that our bodies consider foreign are not helping my efforts. I think giving up this stuff and eating clean will never come to a place of perfection, but a simple awareness is a huge start.

I really feel like this is a re-birth for me. I’m so excited about my upcoming races and the training in the months ahead. I also have my sights set on running the Tough Mudder… maybe in 2013. Now THAT would be insanity.

Maybe I am crazy, but crazy suits me just fine! I say set lofty goals. I say dream big and find a way to go after what you want to achieve. Prove it to yourself that you can do it! You’ll never know what’s possible until you push beyond what’s comfortable. I feel very blessed to have had some of the opportunities I have in this life – military training, skydiving, black belt testing etc. – because they have given me the confidence to know I can survive a whole lot of stuff and come out stronger on the other side.

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me – Phil 4:13 NKJV

The Jellybean Game

Photo: dwstucke on Flickr

So today I’m throwing Miniman’s 6th birthday party. I am terrified of kids running rampant throughout my house, so my best line of defense is to structure the party with lots of games that will harness their energy in one direction. As I was preparing for today I remembered a game we played at a birthday party when I was a kid… The Jellybean Game.

What you need:

  • A shallow, round pan – like a 9″ round baking pan or something similar
  • 4 cups of jellybeans or so; more if you’d like depending on the # of participants
  • A small cup for each participant
  • A small spoon
  • A pair of dice

Fill the baking tray with jellybeans to about 1″ deep and put the spoon on top. Have all the kids sit in a circle around the tray – have them back up so there is at least 2-3 feet between little knees and the jellybean tray – more is better. Start with the guest of honor. Have them roll the dice. If they get doubles they get to go fish out jellybeans. If they don’t get doubles, the dice pass to the person on their right so that the dice move counter-clockwise around the circle, each person trying to roll doubles to get in the center of the circle to where the jellybeans are.

Once someone successfully rolls doubles, they go kneel beside the tray of jellybeans. With one hand behind their back and the spoon in their other hand, they get to lift out jellybeans one by one – using ONLY the HANDLE end of the spoon (without flicking, scooping or otherwise cheating) – and depositing them into some kind of cup (one per child).

While they are lifting jellybeans out of the shallow tray with the handle of a spoon, the dice are continuing to be rolled by the remaining participants in a counter-clockwise manner around the circle. The person in the middle continues with the jellybeans until someone else rolls doubles. They may get a long turn or they may get a short turn. It’s up to the dice! Keep playing until the tray of jellybeans is empty.

The winner is the person with the most jellybeans once the tray is empty. The winner gets a prize and everyone who got to fish out jellybeans gets to keep what they gathered.

So there it is: The Jellybean Game.

If you have a favorite kids’ party game, describe it in the comments! Let’s see if we can put together a bunch of the best kids’ birthday party games in one place.

Confessions of a heel-striker

Photo: al.herrmann on Flickr

Today I tweeted “Run or nap?” I was not disappointed with the advice given me.

So I ran.

I’ve written before about my love of running, but since moving to Oliver I’ve been sort of on-again-off-again with the training. I ran a bit early on when I moved here last April, but then it got hot and I stopped… and then I ran a little more in the fall and then I got sick, and then I went to Mexico (I know, excuses excuses) and then it got cold.

I’m not used to cold.

So then February rolled around and a friend of mine encouraged me to set a goal – a mighty lofty one at that – to run the SeaWheeze Lululemon Half Marathon on August 11th. And I figured, why not? On any given day I can pull off about 10km… what’s another 11?! Piece of cake! Uh… well, something like that.

Okay I’m finding it a little daunting and I’m doubting my ability to do this just a touch, but I like a good challenge and I’ve already paid the bucks to register.

So there.

In other running-related news, Big Mack gave me a pair of Vibram Five Finger Bikila shoes for Valentine’s day. I’ve been eyeing these up for some time so I’m super excited to take them out for a spin. The weather here hasn’t been great for the last couple days. My running routes have quite a bit of mud and gravel left over from the latest snowfall so I’m waiting for the right opportunity to break them in. In the meantime, though, I decided to get started on fixing my running stance to make running in minimalist shoes bearable.

I’m a heel striker.

There, I said it. If I keep running the way I have been in these Bikilas I’m going to hurt myself I’m sure… especially if I’m heading into distances that will prepare me for a half marathon. So today I decided to try out more of a mid-foot strike while running… just to see what it feels like. Wow. I may be a touch sore tomorrow.

I ran about 8 km and, while I slipped back into my natural form a few times, I did make a concerted effort to land each stride sort of flat, more on the ball than the heel. Here are my observations about the mid-foot strike versus the heel strike:

  • I had to shorten my stride because I couldn’t reach out as far to the front with each step
  • The shorter stride had me more upright and leaning forward less
  • The result of being more vertical was that there was more of an extension of the hip flexor with each stride
  • There was also more of a push backward with the back leg rather than down, which worked the top of the glutes more like a rear leg lift would
  • I could no longer rely on my hamstrings and my glutes to do the hard work
  • The work shifted to the quads and the calf muscles
  • There was less work in the contraction of the hip flexors since they didn’t have to bring the leg up as high since I was already more upright

All in all, I found the experience interesting. It took me almost an hour to do 8km – normally I’d do this in about 50 minutes these days but the shorter stride and focus on my form really caused me to lose speed. I’m not sure how I’m going to feel tomorrow… my quads were tight after this run and that is a rare occurrence for me. My calves don’t feel it yet but it’s only been 4 hours.

So for now I’m working on two goals: 1) being consistent with my running to bring my base mileage to an appropriate level for half marathon training, which will begin in May, and 2) changing up my stance to a mid-foot strike and logging some miles on my Bikilas.

I’m also looking for some interim races to try between now and August 11th, so if you have any good suggestions let me know! And oh yeah… do you like my shoes?!

With the grace of a kindergarten teacher

Photo: Will Foster on Flickr

I have a confession to make: I have some anger issues.

When I was a kid, my parents were strict. They were loving, but strict. I thought so anyway. The rules and moral code I had to adhere to placed the bar just above my head and I was always striving to reach it. I was a good kid. I was never spanked (ever), but I was disciplined with a wave of guilt that only a father can bestow upon his daughter. My dad used to say, “I’m disappointed in you.” Well… he may as well have beaten me. That was usually plenty to make me change my tune. When it wasn’t, though, he yelled.

He yelled loudly.

He yelled because he loved me and hated that I was making poor decisions. He yelled because he couldn’t make me choose to behave better. He yelled because he felt powerless to fashion me in to the awesome person he knew I could be, all the while resting the idea of how well I turn out on his own shoulders. In truth I’m not sure if that’s how he felt, but it sure is how I feel about my own kids.

I yell too.

The other day I was helping out in Mini-Man’s kindergarten classroom with their lunch program (could you imagine trying to feed eighteen 5-year-olds without any assistance?!) and I saw the kids interacting with their teacher before and during lunch. I watched as they tried to stay still on the carpet, as they budged in line while waiting to wash their hands, as they poked one another and giggled. All the while their teacher was correcting them gently and moving on to the next task. Her voice never wavered.

She’s soft and firm.

See, she loves her job and is awesome at what she does; I think you have to be in order to actually survive being a kindergarten teacher. She cares for each child and wants them all to succeed, but because they’re not her kids she doesn’t need to feel any burden for how they’ll turn out as adults. I’m sure she hopes that in some way she’ll make a lasting impact on the life of each child she teaches, but I’m sure she doesn’t lose sleep over it.

She doesn’t yell.

Honestly I’d be angry if she yelled at my kid. Why? Because it’s inappropriate and ineffective. I love my kids and I love being a mom; and I care for each of my children and step-children and want to see them succeed. But I have heaped on my own shoulders the complete and total responsibility for how my children turn out as adults through my own condemnation of other parents whose children have faltered. My own judgemental attitude has set the bar way higher than any parent can hope to achieve.

What I need to do is remember that my kids are only on loan to me. I have been charged with loving them, teaching them and protecting them but I MUST remember that they belong to God; and parenting is God’s work. He is the one who bears the ultimate responsibility for how they turn out. He is the one who created them with a plan and purpose. He is the one that will work in their hearts as we scatter seeds of faith in their lives and aim, by the grace of God, to pour out the fruits of the spirit in our homes – love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.

Notice yelling isn’t on the list.

What I need to do is correct them gently each time they fall short of my own expectations. I need to lovingly show them the right way to behave and then move on to the next task. I need to hand my kids over to God at the end of the day understanding rightly that the ultimate responsibility lies with Him.

I need to parent with the grace of a kindergarten teacher and trust God for the rest.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” [Matthew 11:28-30 NIV].

Home is where the heart is

Photo: Meredith Farmer on Flickr

I remember planning my move to this beautiful place and my new future with Big Mack and I was so excited. I was excited to move back to the Okanagan; I was excited to be a part of a whole family again; I was excited to live in a house with a yard; I was excited to give my sons a new dad; I was excited to quit my job and become a stay-at-home wife and mom; I was excited to spend time writing music. There’s only one thing I wasn’t excited about.

I hated the idea of leaving my church.

My church was my home. It’s where I wanted to be. It was filled with people who cared about me, people who prayed for me and listened to me when I needed to talk. It was people who held me accountable and people who stretched me and taught me to reach out for God’s truth… to get to know Him better. It was where I belonged. It was my home.

I’d visited Big Mack’s church a few times during my visits with him before we were married – maybe 3 or 4 at most. I remember comparing it to Valley Church – my home church since I became a Christian in 2005 – and feeling completely underwhelmed. I remember thinking the music was lacking and the congregation was stifled and I remember disliking the preaching I did hear simply because it wasn’t Pastor Owen. There was some social awkwardness too… or maybe it was just me. I was, after all, attending where Big Mack used to go with his now ex-wife and, well… it just wasn’t MY church.

Ugh.

I remember mulling it over. I remember asking Big Mack if he would consider moving to something a little more vibrant. I remember wanting something different… I remember saying I couldn’t feel the Holy Spirit there. I remember praying about it and I remember God telling me to stop looking at church with an expectation to be served but, rather, to look at it as an opportunity to serve others and trust in Him.

This is right where he wanted me.

I am so grateful to the Oliver Alliance Church community for embracing me wholeheartedly, for welcoming me into their lives and into their hearts, for including me in their social engagements and for caring for me and my boys through the children’s ministry. I am thankful I have been given the opportunity to serve with the worship arts ministry and that I have been encouraged and prayed with and loved on and lifted up.

I am so completely ashamed at the terrible attitude I once held about this great group of people. As I have come to know many of them – even just a little bit – I can tell their hearts are genuine, their faith strong and true. I can tell they love my Jesus as I do.

I still have close relationships with Valley Church through songwriting; my co-writers are there and I have been meeting with them about once a month since I moved here. And I always take in a service there when I’m in the city on a Sunday… I am even still asked to sing with the worship ministry there on occasion. What’s beautiful, though, is I now have a new church family and all those things I thought about Oliver Alliance before were completely wrong.

So wrong.

It’s funny how our perceptions change. I think God changes them. Where once my poor outlook clouded my vision to where I couldn’t see the Spirit moving in that place I am now moved to tears in worship and humbled by the inspired preaching. So often Pastor Jeremy manages to preach on a topic or scripture passage I was just reading or contemplating the day before, confirming to me that God is very much still at work.

As Christians, our church becomes our family. They are an extension of us – the body of Jesus. We cannot function well without those vital relationships. We must allow ourselves to fall under the leadership and guidance of a pastor and a church body for our own well-being and growth.

I’m so grateful that God put me right where I am. My heart is here.