Posted by Juls at 11:01 PM | Permalink

Technically, it is fall, but if feels more like a winter without rain. Here, in California, it isn’t all the same (as my husband would have had you believe). There are subtle differences in the seasons and, unless you love the snow, it is great.

Although I love seeing the leaves turn to the varying colors; I much prefer spring and summer. One of the biggest reasons for disliking the fall season is that I dislike waking up in darkness. I also dislike the feeling of running out of time that comes with the early darkness at the end of the day. My mood changes to hope as the days begin getting longer. I know that spring will come soon and I even take joy in running in the rain (occasionally).

Spring is probably my favorite of the four seasons. Summer is next in line. This is because I like to be warm, and I like to wake up to the sun coming through the window. I like to sit outside and listen to the birds singing.

Spring has always meant new life - when the spring flowers are blooming and the young animals are coming to life. Since Tom’s death occurred on the first day of spring, “new life” now has a different meaning. Still, I think that I will like the coming of spring. It will be a point to appreciate my life and the new growth that has occurred in the year left behind.

Posted by Juls at 12:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (8)

It's that time again. It's National Blog Posting Month again! That means that I'll be joining many of you in the fun of posting something on my blog everyday for the month of November.

For those of you who are wondering how on earth you come up with a new post everyday, look what I found. Click on "journals" for a list of interesting topics to write about.

Here's one example:
Look in the mirror, and write down what you think. Are you being too hard on yourself?

When I look in the mirror I see a short, dark haired woman who has more gray hairs showing than before. She is scared but putting up a strong front.

When I look in the mirror, I sometimes see myself getting fat. Other times I see the results of the abdominal work that I have started up again.

When I look in the mirror, I see my husband standing behind me. He once made me look at myself (for a long time)and appreciate the beauty. It was hard to do - really. The hardest part was looking myself in the eye and believing in what I saw- ME. It now seems impossible to see ME.

Ever since I became a widow, I try to get up a bit earlier each day to prepare for the day. I stare in the mirror and try to convince myself that I am okay. I apply a little make up, run the flatiron through my hair, and try to make myself feel okay enough to face the day.

When I look in the mirror, I struggle to see past the exhaustion in order to see the person that I want to be. I figure that if I stare long enough, I can at least generate enough confidence to convince others that I am "okay".

One day, I will look in the mirror to welcome a happier me.

Posted by Juls at 9:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

It was 4 pm when I walked out the door at work today. There was a maintenance guy assembling a bookcase by the door. "Going already?" he exclaimed with surprise. Although I normally get to work before most of the other workers, I still wanted to tell him to shush. Another part of me knew that I'd put in my time and effort.

Although I had planned to run at lunch, I had not. I worked right through - again. By 3 pm, I had exhausted my brain. So I hit the road and beat the heavy traffic.

I went straight to pick up YaYa from daycare. At home, he got started on his homework right away. BoBo was nearly done with his. I left them in charge while I went to the local track for a run.

My 2 mile repeats weren't due until Wednesday, but I wasn't sure another opportunity to get to the track would occur. It was the first time I'd been able to do speedwork on the track since well before Chicago.

There was a girls field hockey game going on. I hesitated. It would be rude to obstruct the view of the parents watching the game. Then I considered it further; would I really be obstructing the game? Sure, I would run past many times but I'd be moving so it would only be a second that I'd be in the way. The more I thought about it, the more I was able to convince myself that I'd only be a distraction if they let me be a distraction. They could probably see right over me.

I hadn't warmed up a full mile before I started the first 2 mile interval. I knew that it wasn't enough but the sun would be soon be going down. I glanced at Garminia ever lap for a pace check. I was going too fast, or so she said. Garminia also measured a mile before I'd finished a full 4 laps around the track.

The first interval was 15:22 - a second/mile off my target pace. The problem was that I felt like I was going to throw up after finishing. I enjoyed a 5 minute break and then started up again. I felt the fatigue setting in. My legs were heavy and my body was chilling from the cold air on my sweat soaked body. I finished up in 15:46 - 12 seconds/mile slower than the last time.

The sky was beginning to darken, and my body was letting me know that it was cold. It was telling me, for the second time in one day, that it wanted to quit the workout early. I compromised with it by doing a 1 mile repeat (instead of 2 miles). Then, I ran home (less than a mile) and walked the dog around the block to extend my cool down.

Posted by Juls at 8:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

I am often amazed at how I can remember the most intricate details of something which happened long ago, but am unable to remember something as simple as what I had from breakfast. It could be because I didn't actually have breakfast, but that is a topic for another post. In reading Mia's post - on Brit's blog (confusing, but it is what it is) - I thought it might be fun to share a few of my memories from elementary school.

My favorite part of school was recess. I loved it. Even in my youth, I needed to run and play hard so that I could clear my head for further learning. It's no surprise that I now use my lunch hour to do my running as an adult. In elementary school, however, I wasn't just running.

I remember being told by the yard duty that I couldn’t swing on the monkey bars because my underwear showed. I thought she was so stupid. It wasn’t like you could see anything and my Mom *made* me wear dresses back then. I had to sneak some shorts under my dress in order for the yard duty to leave me alone. But she was back whenever I hung upside down. I guess she thought there was something else that needed hiding. I flipped over before she could stop me and quickly ran to another part of the playground.

Another thing that we did in elementary school at recess involved huddling around the bathroom mirrors. The lights were out and we were calling out to Bloody Mary. Do you remember doing that? “Bloody Mary…Bloody Mary…Bloody Mary” Someone always screamed and swore that she saw *her*. I never did, but I played along. I was too scared not to believe; I figured Mary’d come after me if I didn’t.

And then there were the cooties. I was afraid of those too. One time, Ben N was chasing me around trying to give them to me. He and his gang kept chasing me towards the bathrooms. I didn’t want to go in there as the other girls were taunting Mary again. My solution was to tie Ben up with a jump rope so that he couldn’t get me. It worked…until I got called into the principle’s office. The principle didn’t get why I *had* to do it. He said that there was no such thing as the cooties. Humph! He probably didn’t believe in Bloody Mary either.

In 4th grade my friend Cindy L and I started up a “Save the Squirrels” campaign. Do you know how all of the poor squirrels’ holes always have dirt covering he entry to their homes? Well, Cindy and I were sure that the janitor was trying to kill all of the squirrels by suffocating them. In an effort to save the squirrels, Cindy and I used our plastic spoons from lunch to clear out the holes. It was a tough job. It seemed like the holes were getting covered up as quickly as we uncovered them. We devoted both of our recesses to the task and even improved the squirrels’ homes at bit. We made additional rooms for them in case they had babies and needed more room.

My favorite recess pastime, when I was in 5th grade, was to race the fasted boy in the school. Eric S was as fast as lightening. He was the fastest runner in the whole entire school. But, I didn’t let that stop me from the challenge. With all of our friends standing on the sidelines, cheering us on, we would line up on one side of the field. Then, when we were signaled to go, we would both run with all of our effort to the other side. The first to cross the line was the winner and Eric won every time EXCEPT once. Yep! I beat him once. Then I never raced him again. I knew that he was still the fastest, but poor Eric was left with just a bit of doubt. It was great. And, I went back to saving squirrels.

Posted by Juls at 9:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

I got this in my email today:

EARLY ENTRY DEADLINE REMINDER!
For those of you who have not yet entered the 25th Anniversary CIM, the online entry deadline for the lowest entry fee is October 30!

You may still enter online from November 1 until November 17.

Online entries close November 17.

Mailed in entries must be postmarked by November 10!

IMPORTANT! The CIM has a cap this year of 6,000 marathon entries and 750 relay team entries. These events are filling FAST! Registration at the Expo on November 30 and December 1 cannot be guaranteed, so pre-registration is strongly recommended.

There are NO RACE DAY ENTRIES!

Good luck with your training, and we hope to see you at the 25th Anniversary CIM, December 2, 2007!

I wll be there....Will YOU?

Posted by Juls at 6:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

The days are getting shorter and shorter. Normally, the clock would be falling back this weekend, but not this year. With the extension of daylight savings time, the mornings continue in darkness. It was barely light out when Cindy arrived at my house to take me out for another long run.

The crisp air and the brilliant colors of the leaves told us that summer was over. We enjoyed a break from the lonely runs of weekends past and chatted as we ran. This run required a bit more time than I had expected, but having some friendly company made it all the more enjoyable. The run was a success, but I was happy to have it finished.

I returned home to find some interesting little creatures sitting on my table.

In the backyard, the rest of the family was engaging in the fun of carving pumpkins into creative works of art. They were well into the process but saved a pumpkin for me to get creative with. Equipped with special tools and a book of templates, we all worked away until the pumpkins were all transformed into Jack-O-Lanterns.

Afterwards, we spun a web across the front of the house and then went out for a family "linner" (lunch-dinner) before DD and Tash hit the road again. I am so thankful that they carved out a bit of time to come spend some time with us.

I am also glad that I was allowed to carve out a bit of time for myself too. It's been a good weekend.

Posted by Juls at 7:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (7)

While getting totally emerged in my Harry Potter book, I heard a singsong query coming from my kitchen.
"Ho-ney? Will you open the bottle of wine?"

DD returned from the garage with the bocce ball set. Readied for an exciting game with his little brothers, he stopped in the kitchen to tend to his lovely gal's request. At the same time, I stopped my reading just to listen to their sweet conversation and remember the early days of Tom and I...

Those were the days. Tom and I spent so much time together. We hung out in coffee shops, and in parks, and slowly peeled away the layers of camouflage hiding our true selves to each other. Even after exposing my weaknesses, Tom accepted me.

We seemed to compliment each other. While I was naively positive (unseeing of the tragedies happening all around us), Tom was dismally negative (unable to see the rainbow on a rainy day). I felt whole when I was with him, which was new for me. I loved it; I loved him.

DD was only 6 years old back then. I loved to spend time with the two of them. Tom would read him Winnie the Pooh stories with a different voice for each character. It was his way of saying "I love you" without actually saying the words. I eavesdropped then, just as I am doing now.

A tear gently rolls down my cheek, hearing the "Tom" in DD's voice and knowing that, for me, Tom's subtle way of saying "I love you" is only a memory now.

I returned from my thoughts, and looked down at my book, as footsteps approached. In came DD with a glass of wine - unaware that my tear was any more than a result of a well written ending to a great series of books.

Posted by Juls at 7:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I ran out in a different direction today. I got lost, and found a new bike trail in the process. This could be good.

I ran out towards the high school. I thought I could look and see if there were students in the area. If there weren’t any, I’d do my track workout. They might kick me off, but I’d give it a go.

Well, I got a bit lost trying to find a short cut through the back of the hospital parking lot. I could see the stadium lights and a foot path as well. I just couldn’t get to it as there was a fence in the way. I could have climbed the fence but I know better. The last attempt I made at fence climbing, I hooked my shorts on the fence and was already dropping down when I realized what way happening. Not a good thing.

Since I didn’t want to return to the new job with my shorts ripped open, I abandoned my short cut to find a different route to the track. I got a little turned around, but eventually I did find the track. There were students on it – a whole lot of them. It looked like the high school’s PE class was using the track. Oh well.

It wasn’t a complete loss though. I found the footpath too. It made for a pleasant run back towards the office. I ran each mile was progressively faster, which was exactly what Coach had wanted me to do. The trail dumped me out on the main road just up the hill from the office. It was a nice surprise!

Posted by Juls at 2:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

My running isn't quite what it should be. It isn't for a lack of coaching. It's all my doing, or NOT doing rather.

Somehow, tonight, I managed to get up and get going at around 7 pm. I grabbed my reflective vest, my not-so-effective head light, and my not-so-young-and-energetic dog. Out we went into the dark of the night.

Lucky, bless his heart, did his best to hang with me for the first mile. After that, he took up the rear of our sidewalk caravan. I tried to stay cheery as I coaxed him to keep moving back to the house. Then, I returned to the streets near our home for the final 1.3 miles of a 3 mile run.

By this time in the week, I *should have* completed my speed workout, but I haven't. It's not likely that I will get to a track during tomorrow's lunch either. I've located one that is 1.5 miles from the office but I'm not sure that the local high school wants the community on their track during the school hours.

My problem has been that instead of running a different workout at lunch, I don't run at all. I keep working and convince myself that I'll leave early and do it after work. But that never seems to happen.

So...my plan for tomorrow is to run during lunch. Either I will do my speed workout or not - but I plan to run because it is no fun to run in the dark of night.

Posted by Juls at 7:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

There's all kinds of therapy: bereavement, marriage counselling, electric shock, even "retail." Actually, unless it's for running items, I hate shopping. I hate the harsh lighting and the booming music. I hate the lines and the disappearance of money from my accounts.

But, this "retail therapy" stuff works for Runner Susan, so I figured that I'd give it another try. I was at the mall anyhow, buying the kids some new shoes. While they were trying on their over priced Vans, I slipped across the hall to Anne Taylor Loft's petite section.

One of the main reasons that I hate shopping, besides the reasons that I listed above, is because my body type is not conducive to my wearing my pants right off of the rack. Normally, I have to remedy the excess 3-4 inches of fabric extending past my ankles.

Can you guess what happened?
Well, I splurged and I bought myself some nice clothes for work and it wasn't that bad.

I splurged because these pants, were made for me. Seriously! They fit perfectly and they even had my name on them. How could I resist that? I bought TWO pairs and am now feeling a little more in style at work.

Now, if only my feet would cooperate with some nicer looking shoes. *sigh* I'd better not push my luck - I have a marathon to qualify for.

Posted by Juls at 7:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

I hate when I try to do something nice and it just blows up my face. I hate it...HATE it. I am angry again, sad, lonely, and frustrated. And my head is about to explode.

I know this feeling will soon pass, but I have my moments. I was just in my car and thought that if I'd just get in a really bad accident, it would all be over. There would be no more pain...for me anyway.

Then, I think of my boys.

Posted by Juls at 7:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (14)

I did it again.
I over booked myself this past weekend.
Unfortunately, the coming weekends don’t look any better.

It all began on Friday with the high school football game. My attendance was not required, but I went anyways. Not only was BoBo not playing, his school was not playing. I did enjoy catching up with the parents from the old ‘hood. It also prevented excess driving and thus wasted gasoline.

On Saturday, eye exams for YaYa and me took over the morning. I found myself late for the meet up in the city and slightly overwhelmed with being late. YaYa and I had a great time but we were wiped out by the time BART dropped us at the van. It was pretty late by the time we were finally snuggled in bed.

Sunday brought flag football, a 16 mile run, and dinner with a new friend who’s family has also lost a loved one this year. I felt the coming of a menstrual migraine by the end of the day. Meanwhile, we are out of the important food items such as milk, and have an ever growing pile of clothes that need laundering.

Time is just running away from me these days. I sure could use a couple more hours of daylight (each day) so that I can catch up.

Speaking of running, last week I failed miserably at getting my workouts completed. I think that if I kick off the week on a better note, things will fall into place easier. I have to *make* time for my training or I won’t stand a chance at getting that BQ. Somehow, I’m going to find the time.

Posted by Juls at 12:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Photo of my some of blogging friends that I met in San Francisco: "Eyeball" Irene, Juls (me), Margaret, Cindy, Michelle, Dori, & YaYa.

I wish that I was running in this year's Nike Women's Half Marathon. It's no secret WHY I didn't register this year - registration opened and closed at a very uncertain time. Although I wasn't going to be running, YaYa and I tagged along with Cindy to the the big city and met up with a few of my favorite bloggers.

Later, we met up Big Sis and a few (about 14) of her running friends for dinner. It was a blast, and I am glad that I got to share in some of the pre-race excitement even though I would not be running.

This morning, I awoke at 7:01 am and thought about my running friends:
Go Nike Runners!
Enjoy this gorgeous California weather.
Drink in the lovely SF views from the top of those tough hills,
and the ample water being handed out on the course.
Finish strong and get your "bling."

Posted by Juls at 6:50 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

I awoke in a daze, only able to remember parts of it.

It was late morning on race day. I must have BQ’d because I was desperately trying to get to Hopkinton. Tom was sick but alive. He’d moved the car so that we wouldn’t get a ticket, but couldn’t remember where he’d left it.

I kept trying to reach Jeff and Dianna. We were supposed to ride to the start together. But they weren’t answering their phone. It just beeped and beeped….

Then I realized that the beeping was my alarm clock, trying to rip me away from my dream.

Posted by Juls at 7:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)

Today, after examining my run assignments for the week, I went out for a run. It would not be the speed workout, which was scheduled for yesterday. It would not be the 6 mile progressive run scheduled for tomorrow. Although today’s workout was an easy 3-4 mile run, it wasn’t that either. What it was to be, I didn’t exactly know. I just knew that it would be to a popular hiking and running location that the locals just rave about. It was time to discover what all the hype was about.

I ran along the streets for 1 mile to reach the entrance. I told the guard at the gate that this was my first time. He reassured me that it was a single loop; I could not get lost. He cited some facts about the distance to the top of the hill, etc. I only absorbed the fact that the total distance from the gate entrance and back would be 3.7 miles. 3.7 miles + 1 mile to and from = 5.7 miles. It wasn’t exactly 3-4 miles and it wasn’t exactly easy. I wondered if I could possibly make it my progressive run. Looking up the steep climb, I thought better of it. I’d just run and see what happened.

I began my trek. I passed many hikers along the way. I huffed and puffed like the big, bad wolf. The only problem was that I was climbing the brick houses of hills. I thought, “Am I that out of shape?” To make matters worse, I young chick whooshed past me and disappeared down the other side of the hill. It was a bit demoralizing.

On the positive side, once I got over my deflated ego, I got to see exactly what all the rage was about. All around me was incredible views of the entire Bay Area. It was breathtaking - literally. *huff – puff*

I can now say that I have "been there and done that." I have also discovered that I will need a couple of more options for my lunchtime runs. I know that a little hill work will do me good, but I also need confidence going into my next race. I have no idea where my new routes will take me, but I guess I become very familiar with my new surroundings (like it or not) very quickly.

Posted by Juls at 2:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Six weeks ago the family started attending weekly bereavement support groups. Since today’s session will be the final in the 6-week series, our group was asked to think about our grieving and how the sessions have impacted the process.

I looked back through my blog to get a sense of how far I have come. Even after looking, it is difficult to see any real changes. Sometimes others can see your progress better than you can.

Take my son for example:
In thinking about the assignment, I asked YaYa for his thoughts on attending group. His face changed to one of torment. He told me that he didn’t like it much. He said that he didn’t like talking about his Dad, and that it was easier when he just didn’t remember it. I reminded him that he *did* remember it; he had nightmares all of the time, and he was always on the verge of tears with his brother and I. He did not agree with my view.

I asked YaYa why he chose to write the story of how his Dad died if he did not want to remember. He couldn’t tell me. Instead he asked if he could put the story on his blog. So we did that last night. Thanks to those of you who have left encouraging comments for YaYa. He needs the feedback as much as I do.

As for me, I am aware of subtle changes. I can see that my clock displays the date of 17 October 2007, yet I am not feeling the impending doom of the coming of the 21st (the monthly anniversary date) as I previously did.

My sense is that I have reached the beginning of “acceptance” or, more aptly put, the awareness that Tom is not ever coming back. I don’t like it, but it is a fact. I have accepted that much.

I had a daydream during my long run this week. Yes, I actually “dream” while I run. I’ve done this ever since I was a kid. I see what is in front of me but then there is another transparent screen in front of it with the movie playing. I am aware of both at the same time.

Well, Sunday’s dream was a modification of the run I was in the process of doing. In the dream, YaYa had been talking to a man at the spot that I was still running to. This was where we had agreed that he would stop to wait for me to catch up. The man looked like Tom, and said that he was Tom. He seemed to know everything about us, but I pulled YaYa away from him and told the man that my husband was DEAD and that he (not being Tom) should leave us alone.

So you see I have reached some level of acceptance, like it or not. What I have not accepted is that this is “as good as it gets.” I know that my life is not as “sucky” as I led my dear neighbor to believe, although I thought so at the time. My life does NOT suck – not ALL of the time anyways. I want my life to be better than this though. To be honest, I wanted “better” before Tom died as well.

I know that our family has a lot of pain ahead to work through, but I am hopeful that by continuing to do work in the bereavement support groups we will eventually heal.

Posted by Juls at 2:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (7)

After struggling through my mid-week runs, I finally had a run where I didn’t feel like I was struggling. While riffling through my workout bag, I thought about my previous considerations in relation to my running...

My working heart rate has returned to the high numbers that I experienced prior to beginning my string of musical blood pressure meds. This has been the case since changing to a new medication in the week before Chicago. Initially, I was glad to see my heart rate move out of the slow zone that was the result of the BETA blocker. My heart rate was too low when I would run and, as a result, my legs felt dead. I knew that I couldn't get to Boston on one cylinder.

After making the change, I was disappointed that my heart rate was not back in the range that it was when I was taking the first ACE inhibitor. That zone was the perfect zone; that zone was where I noticed that I was hitting my target paces regularly. Instead, it was back to an average heart rate of the high 160s to 170s. I may have been used to that before, but now it is just hard.

Having finally experienced a “good” run is a step in the right direction. But “long run pace” is quite different from “race pace” or that required for my intervals. Thankfully, CIM is a couple of months away. I have a bit of time to figure it out. In the meantime, I have a lot of unanswered questions and no one to consult but the Magic Eight Ball (M8B) that was in my workout bag.

YaYa was still in the bathroom when I found the ball in my bag. It was a freebie that I picked up at my last job.

I held it and asked the first question:

"Is Cozaar the right drug for me?”
“Answer unclear ask later”

“Is Cozaar causing me problems with my running?”
“Ask me later.”“

Okay, [think]
“Will my body adjust to Cozaar so that running will be easy again?”
“Unable to answer at this time?”

*Sigh*
I gave it a few days and then asked a different set of questions:

“Will I qualify for Boston at CIM?”
“Yes”“Positively”

It does have “yes” answers. But did I ask specifically about this year? I did not.
“Will I qualify for Boston at CIM this year?”
“No”
“Huh?”
“The stars say no”
“If off Cozaar?”
“Looks like yes.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes”
“For real?”
“Cannot foretell now”
“F YOU”
“Chances aren’t good”

So there you have it. I *am* consulting the Magic Eight Ball instead of trusting myself, or my MD. What is this world coming too? ‘That is NOT a question for the M8B”

Posted by Juls at 4:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (8)

The morning was beautiful. The air was crisp and the sun was shining. Still, it is all due to change later today. It is good to be able to enjoy it while it lasts.

The fact that I can notice the lovely morning is a good sign. I even caught myself laughing with the morning DJs as I drove to work. I figured that it would be a good day to tackle some of the items lingering on my to-do list.

Yes, believe it or not, I am still in the process of dealing with paperwork related to my husband’s death. My latest frustration is from the pension plan from the grocery workers union. I have mailed them the items requested in their letters several times, only to receive a new list of required itmes a couple of weeks later. To date, I’ve sent them three sets of forms and documents and, as of today, I still don’t know if he is even entitled to pension benefits. "We are still trying to determine this, " they told me, "That is why we need these additional items." So I may be doing all of this work for nothing; my efforts may yield no benefit at all.

It seems to take so much energy just to begin the attempt. I received this last letter several weeks ago. I let out a long sigh after reading it, and then put it in a stack to deal with later. This stack includes other items requiring my action.

One such item involves an old retirement plan of mine for which I was never noted as a terminated employee in the system. Now I need my old employer to terminate me, I need complete forms (and signature guarantee them) to change my name on the account, document my husband's death, and then I can complete the requested rollover. But that is another story.

My point is that it all is much harder than it should be. Really!

Here I am being asked for "certified" copies of his and her birth certificates, our marriage certificate, and his death certificate (which I mailed in July). While each of these documents will cost me money to obtain certified copies, I still don’t even know if their will be any benefit in complying with the song and dance routine.

It's all about $ and ¢ (or is it sense - common and good). *sigh* Whatever. The sun is still shining. Perhaps I'll go for a run.

...or NOT.

I don't have all of the "required" items.

Posted by Juls at 1:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I am happy to be back to my Monday though Friday routine. The weekend overwhelmed me, and I am happy to leave it behind. I was greeted by the always friendly receptionist this morning with cheery greeting and a “How was your weekend?” My reply was partially honest. “It was okay.” True to form, she fished for a little more, but I didn’t elaborate much more than that. She added that she was always happy that she didn’t have to work and that it enabled her to get just a little more sleep. I tried to fake a smile and agreed with her.

I *was* able to remain in bed a bit longer this past weekend, but that wasn't necessarily a good thing. I meant to get up, but could not convince myself that wanted that. It left me scrambling to get the kids to their events, and for me to get my runs in.

On Saturday I managed to finally deposit checks deposited into the kids’ accounts finally. We have only had the checks since August but, like so many other things, they got lost in the shuffle. We got the costumes for Halloween too. BoBo pushed the urgency and I obliged. In the process, I let my toasted bagel filled with cream cheese go cold and then couldn’t stomach it. In turn, I was cranky and could not determine why. I nagged the kids and couldn’t stop myself. In the afternoon, I worked the snack shack at the Homecoming Game. 4 ½ hours of preparing nachos requires a lot of endurance and I did not have the energy as the afternoon came too quickly and I still had not eaten. The day ended with dinner with my Mom and then picking up BoBo and company at the school dance. It was past midnight when my head finally hit the pillow.

The scrambling continued on Sunday morning. I took the morning slow again and lost track of time reading blogs. I noticed the time with 30 minutes left before YaYa was due at flag football. We quickly dressed, drank a glass of milk and grabbed food for the road. It wasn’t enough to fill me up and I hoped that YaYa would be okay.

At his practice, I sat amongst the families feeling the walls of loneliness closing in on me. I tried to escape from it by calling family and friends but nobody seemed to be home or have their cell phones turned on. I watched YaYa run the plays, fumble the passes, and observing the father and son interactions taking place around him. Afterwards, he complained that none of the passes during the game were thrown to him. He said that his job was to stay out of the way. He’s a very smart kid; I had thought the same thing was happening. I reminded him that the ball is always being thrown high and since he is the youngest on the team that it would be hard to catch. I added that when the boys got better at throwing, and he got better at catching, that things might feel better on the field.

When I told YaYa that he would have to ride his bike with me while I did my 10 mile run, he complained with a vengeance. After sitting in the heat for 2 hours, this didn’t sit well with me. He *would* go with me regardless of whether he liked it. I pulled some seats from the van, loaded YaYa’s bike and then we piled in to take BoBo to part 2 of his job interview (observing at the Kids’ Gym that he was applying at). YaYa and I ate some sandwiches at Togos and then drove to the trail.

We returned home to find BoBo crashed out on the couch. The football game was on the TV. YaYa ran off to the neighbor’s house and returned a few minutes later with his friends. BoBo woke up and soon they were all in the front yard playing a game of football. At first everyone was having fun. Before long, however, YaYa was voicing his objections to BoBo’s rough tactics. At the same time, I was trying to talk on the phone to a good friend. I was distracted from the contact that all day I had longed for. I came in the house to find YaYa and BoBo in the bathroom where YaYa was getting verbally abused by BoBo. I stormed in and lost it on BoBo.

While YaYa and the gang ran off, the tension between BoBo and I built until finally BoBo had climbed out his window and ran off down the street.

I knew that BoBo needed time alone but it is so hard not to worry. There has been some gang activity near the mall area and I wasn’t sure where he would go. Sometimes I think that he feels invincible, but I don’t think that I could go on if something happened to BoBo or YaYa. Worry and hopelessness turned to anger. As I looked at the dirty coffee cups in my hand – the ones from the various places that Tom had worked. I thought of throwing them against the fence. I thought of throwing the other coffee cups too. They remind me of him, and of how he left me to raise these kids alone just when it was getting tough. I murmured, “I hate you,” and then began to cry because it is so far from the truth.

After a bit I found myself at the neighbor’s house being consoled with chocolate and a glass of Two Buck Chuck. Christine tried to explore if the turmoil between BoBo and I was new, whether BoBo was in grief support too, and how I was doing in general. I told her that my life “sucked,” that I had a lot to be thankful for (the kids, my job, etc.), but in spite of making it, that I felt inadequate all of the time. She asked what she could do. “The thing is,” I told her, “I don’t know what anyone can do.” Christine and, her husband, Jeff *have* been helping me all along. They provide a safe place for the kids to go, they would be there to pick up the kids if I needed them, they are there when I need to talk.

BoBo did come home. Jeff went down to talk with him for a couple of minutes and then came back. BoBo took a bit more time, and then joined us for dinner. Then he and Jeff went to the other room to watch football together and allowed the merlot to sooth my aches and pains.

I know that I *am* doing better but, just when I think I’ve reached a happy point, grief happens.

Posted by Juls at 7:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (8)

This morning I put the Lucky dog outside and kissed him on the nose as he huddled inside of his igloo. Then the family backed out of the driveway into the darkness of the early morning. A light rain mixing with the light from the cars blurred my vision of the road slightly. I had to reach for the glasses that I wear for night driving.

After dropping the last child off at school, I continued my trek to work. There now was daylight to light the way, but it was still gloomy. I thought of my friend Lisa, who moved from California to Washington only to discover that she suffers from season affective disorder (SAD).

Then I thought of Tom…
Tom’s depression was certainly more exaggerated in the winter. But there were more reasons for his sadness besides the weather. He had experienced so many losses in winters past. He had so much pain and suffering that was uprooted each winter. I had wanted to help him, but was at a loss for how to do this. This winter, I hope that he has found peace.

I was half way to work when I became aware of the dull ache in my heart. As I watched my windshield wipers move across the window, I wondered if I would be destined to suffer the same sadness as Tom. I sure hope not. I long for the day when I realize that my days are generally happy again. I want my children have achieve the same happiness. I am okay with this winter being gloomy but, come spring, I want my life to bloom again – even if only a single bloom.

As I neared the freeway exit, I thought of my new job. Tom was always so negative about my career move to the pharmaceutical industry. He liked that I wasn’t an intensive care "stress case" (always bringing the intensity of the hospital home with me). He also liked that I was home in the evenings, weekends and holidays. He liked the salary that it brought too. He did NOT like what his perception of “drug companies” told him. It told him that I sold out when I left nursing.

I have to admit that in the last year, I was not real excited about what I was doing. My nursing knowledge was fading away from lack of use and I was bored. I'd lost my drive.

Now, I am learning again and my medical knowledge is being re-awakened. Although I am still working in pharma, I know that Tom would be proud of my latest career move. And *that* makes me happy.

Posted by Juls at 4:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

Getting over the mid-week hump was just one of my hurdles for the week. My new job means a different route to work, a new habit of packing a lunch, new duties, new people, new regulations to learn, and so much more that is NEW.

A bigger issue for me has been my running routine. I've been struggling with resuming my lunchtime training runs since started the new job. It wasn't such a big deal to run after work, on the treadmill, during my taper. Now that I am re-ramping for a December marathon, I need to utilize my lunch break to run. I don't have a lot of other free time to do it.

The problem is that I have yet to see a single person going outdoors to run. At my previous employer, many people were grabbing their workout bags and heading to either the fitness center or to the outdoors for some sort of exercise. Additionally, the lockers/showers are in the bathrooms by the executive offices. I have been apprehensive about standing out.

This week was a time to put that all behind me. The path to change was paved for me in an odd way. I found that I did stand out, after my boss introduced me (the new girl), at the All Hands Meeting. She made a point to share that I had just run the Chicago Marathon. Well now that I already stand out, I guess I'll get over my reservations and just hit the pavement.

That was just what I did. I got over my fears and walked right past those offices with my bag hung over my arm. After locating the bathrooms with the showers, I changed into my shorts, pony'd up my hair, and headed out the front door.

My next hurdle was to figure out where to go. It didn't seem like I had a lot of options. Every direction that I could go involved running along busy streets. I made a right from the driveway and ran along the road facing traffic. There wasn't any sidewalk for most of it, and the shoulder was narrow.

My breathing did not feel natural. It felt like I hadn't run in months rather than days. The hill early in the run did not help either. But as soon as I had a safe sidewalk to get me away from the cars, my breathing eased up.

I was soon crossing one of the busiest streets which took me into a quiet neighborhood. I welcomed the empty streets. Unfortunately, my neighborhood stroll came to an end as quickly as it started. The road ended at a school.

Here I made a left and continued onward. The road was busier, but I knew that it would eventually meet up with a familiar road that would take me back to the office. I figured that my run would end up being about 4 miles.

To my surprise, I arrived at the main road quickly. It was right at a popular running path, which I had thought, was several miles away. It turned out to be only a mile from the office, making my run 3.5 miles. Since my run was schedule as 4-6 miles in length, my miscalculation made today's run miss the mark. It did, however, give me a new place to explore during the coming months of training.

I am glad that I got past my apprehension and made today's run happen. I'm on my way again, and a little excited about having more options than I had previously thought.

Posted by Juls at 8:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (7)

It's Wednesday (aka "hump day"). I guess it is fitting that my support group occurs on this weekday as it serves to get me over another hump. This week was pretty benign, meaning there were no tears, no big out pouring of feelings, just a discussion on how the week went after last week's intense session.

In the kids’ room, the energy work shifted from the feelings of grief to accepting the loss. "Acceptance" apparently is a noisy process. The sounds from the children boomed through the walls. A bit later, they could be seen through the window dressed in their armors of aluminum foil. I could see, and hear, YaYa from where I sat. On the front of him was a sign with a few words on it: friends, brothers, smile, stupidity. I wondered what it all had to do with acceptance.

We returned to our own session for an exercise on breathing. Afterwards, the facilitator asked us how it was for us. The she asked us, "If you could tell your husband one thing, what would it be?" The fact that I love him is obvious and I am certain that he knew it. I said that I would tell him, assuming that he might be looking down at me, that although it seems like I am doing okay, that I am still missing him a lot.

I also said that I still cry on the way to work, but that I noticed that it was different. She asked me to elaborate. I really couldn't put words to it. I told her that months ago it felt like I was falling apart and that I had no control. Now, when I cry, I know that by the time I get to work it will be over. I will wipe away the tears and go about my day. Could this be the start of acceptance? I'd like to think so. It could also be the calm before the storm. The holidays *are* coming.

On the drive home, I asked YaYa about his grief-work. He couldn't remember what the costume resembled, but he said that the words were things that keep him safe. I had to wonder why "Mom" wasn't listed, but "stupidity" was. Could it be that the words were synonymous in his world?

That was what I wondered as I sprinkled nutmeg on the turkey burgers instead of seasoning salt. BoBo said that they were delicious. They actually were quite good. I was proud that I'd finally gotten it together enough to have a decent meal. Tonight, for a change, we weren't having soup, sandwiches, corndogs, or fast food.

One step at a time. Eventually, we will get over that hump.

Posted by Juls at 6:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (8)

...if you can find some good in everything that you do.

Posted by Juls at 6:45 AM | Permalink | Comments (14)

Sorry for the delay in my race report, I am at a loss for how to describe what transpired at the LaSalle Bank Chicago Marathon (LBCM) this year. If you did not hear yet, it was HOT. The race was even cancelled 4 hours into it.

Of course, IF I had been on target for my goal, the closing of the race would not have been an issue for me. I was not, however. Unfortunately, my lack of performance was evident right from the start.

The starting line was amazing. I had wondered what 45,000 people would look like. It was so vast that I couldn't see to the beginning of the start. It was HUGE.

As we stood and waited for the start, sweat was already running down my body. I'd nearly drained one of the bottles in my fuelbelt. But, I tried to convince myself that the heat would not affect me. I held onto Coach's last words to me. I was ready.

As I passed the mile markers, it was clear that Garminia's measurements were not in synch with the course measurements. If she was right, I would, at that point, be closer to my goal than I was. The streets were lined with spectators who were all cheering loudly. It was amazing. At the same time, the field of runners stayed heavy the entire way.

I hit the port-a-potties at mile 6. I had known a couple of miles back that my goal would not be achieved. A 10K split that was over 1 hour was evidence of this fact.

It was time to adjust to plan B, running conservatively and using the race as a training. I even toyed with the idea of a DNF (do not finish), but thought better of it due to the sacrifices that the family had made to support me this weekend. I would go the distance.

As the distance wore on, it was harder to want to keep going. The crowds weren't as encouraging to me anymore - even though they stuck with it throughout. I felt sorry that they had to suffer too. The heat was brutal.

At the aid stations, in spite of the volunteer's vigorous efforts, the cups weren't being filled fast enough. I took the time to get a cup of gatorade and a cup of water at each station. Towards the later miles, this was increased too. I am so sorry to read that many who were behind me did not get any. I had no idea. I swear that I didn't use it to dump over my head though - I drank every drop.

Along the course there were areas where people had their hoses out to offer the runners a spray. I was already dripping wet with sweat from my hat to my shoes. I enjoyed a few good sprays to my face to wash the sweat off. I even picked up a dropped wash cloth to wipe the sweat out of my eyes periodically. There were even a couple of fire hydrants that were cracked open to provide the perfect amount of water to run through.

I was at mile 22 when the announcement was made, "The race course is now closed. Go to the nearest aid station to be transported back to the start." What?! Realizing that, miles back, I had considered dropping out but now I was set on finishing.

I called the family, who had missed me at mile 13 due to the 9:40 am train having to push the 7:40 am train into the city. They were waiting at the finish. I told them to go back to the hotel and wait there for me. There was no sense in us all suffering.

I continued on, running and trying to slowly weave through a sea of people who were now mostly walking. I wanted off the course but I had come too far to quit now. I was not leaving without my medal. I also reasoned that the wait for a ride would be longer than plugging along.

A couple of miles later the 1st, of many, helicopters flew overhead. "The race is now over. For your safety, we ask that you STOP RUNNING," they announced. Reluctantly, I walked. If felt like a scene from a movie - like after a holocast or other disaster. It also *hurt* to walk. After about a mile of walking, I began an easy jog. It felt better both physically and mentally.

Finally, I was cresting the hill (an overpass) at mile 26. I never welcomed a hill more. The finish was now in sight. It was still lined with cheering spectators. UNofficially (since the race was actually "cancelled" hour 4), 4:47:07 but safe and injury-free.

Posted by Juls at 4:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (37)

The race took it's toll on me. Thankfully, less so than others. I bid farewell to the family and flew home last night. In spite of the poor racing conditions, I had a great trip.

I am recovering from a bummy ride home. My Dramamine did not do the trick. They only had one blue bag in all of our three seats. I had to steal one from the bathroom. At home, I discovered that my pizza never was digested. I was discarded into my toilet prior to my going to sleep.

Although I am not at all sore, my head was still aching this morning...so I slept until 2 pm.

Posted by Juls at 2:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I've been trying to stay connected with the blogosphere via, my niece, Kelly's computer. Mostly, I've been checking in on those of you who will join me at the starting line tomorrow.

After reading about a few who are throwing their goals out the window due to the weather forecast, I have decided that now is a good time to withdrawal from the blogosphere.

I've been out in the heat of day and will admit that it is HOT. I ran off a whole two miles worth of nervousness. It allowed me to figure out what I had wrong in my shoe set up; my metatarsal cushions needed a layer pulled off. I think that I am set now.

Running safe will certainly be my priority. On the same note, I still remember the disappointment that I had when I had to throw out my goal at Grandma's Marathon last year. I don't want to do that again, IF I don't have to. I've invested so much more this time around.

I remain confident that my training in the heat of summer has prepared me to endure these race conditions. I have to hold onto my goal and go for it.

I recieved my final words of wisdom from Coach Jeff and I am ready to go. So, until my race report...
I'm off to the races.

Posted by Juls at 9:41 AM | Permalink | Comments (18)

Aunt Sally, BoBo, YaYa, their cousins Sara & YaYa, and I took the train to the "windy city" today. As we stepped foot out to the streets of Chicago, I was hit in the face with the fumes from those smoking just outside the door. I immediately began coughing, the gagging to the point of near puking. It was so embarrassing. They can't take me anywhere. I am sure that the kids were a bit humiliated.

It wasn't all that windy. Instead it was sunny and lightly raining. The kids loved it. They stood out on the sidewalk with their faces to the sky and mouths open wide. Then we walked to take in a few sights (including Sears Tower, where the view was incredible.)

Eventually, after a long walk, varying directions, and a LONG bus ride, we made it to The Expo. This was the only objective that I had for the day. I felt a little guilty that we had to go so far off the beaten path to pick up my race goodies. But soon after we arrived at the expo I could tell that the kids were not at all put out.

BoBo made a b-line to the Powerbar booth, then the Whole Foods booth, and so on. The kids were in heaven with all of the freebies. I got my stuff and then the whole exhausted lot of us took a taxi back to the train station.

The weather in Chicago is heating up. I know that some of you are freaking out. I might do the same too. For now, however, I am trying to be positive about it. After all, we did train in the heat of summer. Today was actually pretty nice, so I am hopeful that my running friends (all 45,000 of them) and I will have a great race.

Posted by Juls at 3:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (13)

In January, Coach Jeff and I discussed my target marathon options for my next Boston qualification (BQ) attempt. We discussed having a prolonged training period to allow for a strong base to be created and to allow plenty of time for my foot to get used to running again post-injury. A fall marathon would do this, he said.

As Coach went through a list of fall marathons, one stood out from the rest. The LaSalle Banks Chicago Marathon was known for it's spectacular spectators, a "big" race environment, and a "flat and fast" course. On top of all of this, Tom's extended family lives in Illinois so it would be a great excuse to see the part of the family that we rarely see. I didn't waste any time in securing my spot.

Ten months later, here I sit on the flight to Chicago. I am without my husband, Tom, yet I am not alone. As BoBo and YaYa dominate the arm rests on either side of me, and encroach on my leg room, I am comforted (although UNcomfortable). Every time I see them, I see the lovely blend of Tom and I. It is a beautiful combination. Although our marriage was often challenged, I am still able to embrace a part of what was indeed good - my three handsome sons.

I would love nothing more than to cross that finishline on time to qualify for Boston. I really want my boys to see my hard work and determination, against all odds, pay off. I want the boys to know that chasing dreams of importance, such as a college education and a career that brings fulfillment as well as money, is worth the hard work that it requires.

We, as a family and as individuals, have much more grieving ahead of us, but we have a lot of wonderful memories. We also have many opportunities to create many more happy moments in the future.

May the Chicago Marathon be the first of many happy memories.

Posted by Juls at 10:30 AM | Permalink | Comments (15)

I was at my bereavement group where the topic was revolving around getting the kids to help out around the house. Rewards vs. punishments were being discussed. I was feeling disinterested in the topic. I wasn't sure what I was there for, but I knew it wasn't that. Just when I was feeling as if I was the odd man out, everything shifted.

It was an innocent question, "Tell me about your week." I squirmed in my seat. It's not been a good week for me. When I opened my mouth, out came the feelings. I didn't think that anyone would identify with my issues; none of the women there have teenagers. But my outpouring started an avalanche amongst the group. Tender subjects were broached, and the Kleenex box was circling the room again.

I am amazed at how courageous these women are. It's funny what you see in others that you have a hard time seeing in yourself.

Back at home, I am feeling that I will be needing a lot of courage as I head into marathon weekend. The suitcases are packed and lined up at the door. The alarm is set for 4:10 am.

I have much to be nervous about. Besides the fact that the Chicago Marathon is just so darn big, my left foot is acting up. Feet don't fail me now; I've invested so much in this plan.

Posted by Juls at 8:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (10)

You've all been there. Life is too crazy. There is too many things to get done and time is running out. One of the somethings on your list must be left behind. I am sorry to say that, today, that something had to be my run.

Posted by Juls at 10:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (7)

I'm tired and cranky. If this were another time, I'd attribute my crankiness to "taper madness." In my case, I think it is more like "Monday madness."

It's 9 pm and we are finally home. As is my usual Monday night ritual, I spent the evening in the hospice lobby. While BoBo was in "group", I helped YaYa do his homework. An hour and a half later, BoBo's session was finished, and the main homework assignments were done. The book report, however, was another story.

We already spent the major part of the weekend trying to finish the book. Now, we had the write up and the task of creating a 3 dimensional scene from the book. I dreaded the struggles ahead.

So while YaYa puts the colored pens to the paper, I try to let him create his project without trying to rush it along. Believe me, I am *tired* and would like nothing better than to have it done. Before long, BoBo comes in to join us.

Lucky comes into the room too. He is following me around, much to my displeasure. I try to shoo him away but BoBo takes issue. He tells me how boring poor Lucky's life is. "He is alone all day," he explains. As he talks, I think of how I just want to be alone for a few minutes. Oh, if I could only have 5 minutes of "boring."

Posted by Juls at 8:09 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)