Dear Parker, Did you miss me?

Did you miss me?

I apologize for my language, but April sucked. I mean, it really sucked. There were some good things like a lovely trip to Paso Robles with my family, but there were a lot of stressful things that smacked me in the face in April.

Among many other things, my babies wait for me at Half Marathon Finish Lines. Enough Said. I’m not feeling particularly eloquent so I’m just going to leave it at that for now.

The crazy part is that while my activity level fell into the toilet, my weight loss went ok. Not fantastic, but OK. I was afraid that I was going to have SO much to backtrack and catch up but my overall results were pretty good – down 2.6 pounds.

I might not make my Mother’s Day goal. Might not. But, I’m well on the way so I’m anxious to see how close I get and I still think I’m breaking that cycle of each year, slowing gaining starting in March.

Weight Loss:

* 10 pounds by Mother’s Day, which will represent the half-way mark. -2.2 lbs this month, -5.6 lbs down, 4.4 to go.

* 25 pounds by Labor Day, which will be the lowest I’ve weighed since before I had kids. -2.2 lbs this month, -5.6 lbs down, 19.4 to go.

* 40 pounds by Martin Luther King Day, 2014. I can’t tell you the last time I weighed that little but it could be 21 years. -2.2 lbs this month, -5.6 lbs down, 34.4 to go.

High School, 25+ years later

I graduated from high school in 1988.

I’ll pause to let you do the math.

Cross off the 2, carry the 1…

I look good for my age, right?

So anyway. The 1980s… John Hughes… Molly Ringwald… the Brat Pack… Psychodelic Furs…  Summer evenings gathering at various friends’ homes… VHS video tapes of movies we watched so many times, we recited the dialogue while we watched them again. Groups of teenagers reciting monologues together, even without the movie playing.

One of our favorite monologues came courtesy of Judd Nelson (Bender, for those of you who don’t know already,) with a small assist from Anthony Michael Hall as Brian. The opening line begins with Bender, name…:

“PB and J with the crusts cut off. Did your mom marry Mr. Rogers?”

Brian: “Uh, no, Mr. Johnson.”

Bender: “My impression… of life… at Big Bri’s house…”

I can still recite it a couple of years later, just ask my kids.

Now, instead of being the teen in legwarmers and big hair, I’m the voiceless mom in the driver seat of the minivan. How did I get so old?

Nothing seems more surreal than driving my, gulp, teenage son to school early in the morning.

Last Friday morning, the rain poured all through the night before. The cool humidity sat heavy in the air and smelled fresh. When I pulled out of the garage to take my son to school, the sidewalks and roads glistened from the residual water and puddles. The scene felt familiar – slightly sunny, slightly overcast.

I left the house early because I hate the traffic jam in the school parking lot. Even with school in session, only a few cars fill the drop-off lane when we arrive that early. One by one we pulled in with our windows up. I did not hear the conversations inside the cars. I wondered what they sound like.

Did that mom laugh with her child?

Did a dad lecture his son?

Did that parent list the mundane things they had on their schedule after school?

Was another parent interrogating her child?

Did they sit in silence all the way to school?

My son got out of the car. I told him I love him and to have a good day. He mumbled back he loves me, too.

I pulled out of the parking lot. You know what song played in my head, don’t you?

Don’t Don’t Don’t Don’t, Don’t you…

Dear Parker, No. 8

The week just was. There was a funeral, with a buffet (fresh fruits and veggies and Iittle bottles of water for the win!) We had multiple nights with multiple commitments – I drove to one meeting, Kev drove the opposite directions for the other. Then there was standing for 4 hours in the shade at a track meet… The good news was – we were outside! I may have tracked down a custodian and made a little bit of a wave in my very first ever volunteering opportunity at my son’s high school… but the custodian was very friendly and we got along well. I suspect that the lady throwing the fit has a low fit-throwing threshold. It wasn’t my fault at all. No, really. It wasn’t. I just happened to be there when she needed a target. I was more embarrassed for her than upset. Not worth it.

I had high hopes for this week. I really did. But I didn’t write this post last night and set it up to post this morning so that means I get to tell my morning drama. I jumped out of bed worried that I waited too late to get the little boys out of bed to get ready for school. In my rush, to top of my foot, near my ankle bone, hit this:

 

Ignore the dust please. That thing in the lower lefthand corner is the comforter to give you some perspective of how little space I have there. But my foot hit that evil decorative hardware. It doesn’t even DO anything, it’s just decorative. I should probably ice this. I have quite the bump on the top of my foot. And it hurts.

I really hoped to get at least some short walks in this week so that I’d have done SOMETHING. Cross your fingers.

My Goals Summary & Update

Not-Entirely Off Season Training: For 16 weeks, walk 4 days a week, Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and one more, and I’ll consider myself successful with 75% completion.

No comment.

Weight Loss:

* 10 pounds by Mother’s Day, which will represent the half-way mark. -0.4 lbs this week, -4.2 lbs down, 5.8 to go.

* 25 pounds by Labor Day, which will be the lowest I’ve weighed since before I had kids. -0.4 lbs this week, -4.2 lbs down, 20.8 to go.

* 40 pounds by Martin Luther King Day, 2014. I can’t tell you the last time I weighed that little but it could be 21 years. -0.4 lbs this week, -4.2 lbs down, 35.4 to go.

0.4 lbs down! Got rid of that pesky gain last week, so I’ll take it! I admit – I was shocked, considering my activity level last week.

A Special Jesuit Joke: Thankful for Humor & Spirituality

Like many people, not just Catholics, I’m actually excited about the new Pope. I’m especially excited that we have a Jesuit Pope!

Now, let’s not get too crazy here. I still have concerns and opinions. I still cringe every time I hear bells rung at a mass and you will NEVER see me wearing my MC alb ringing bells during a mass. I will resign as MC before I ring the bells. I respect why some people appreciate them, but to me, they’re a reminder of a time when the bells were used because the mass was inaccessible to the uneducated (and often disrespected, in my opinion,) laity who did not speak Latin. Bells were used to say “Hey, you! Pay attention! This is the important part!” To me, they’re condescending. I know, I know… I know a lot of people don’t see them that way, I know some do.

Meanwhile, while we’ve been told that the congregation in our masses are not allowed to extend our hands over one another for blessings because it’s too CONFUSING as to who the really important person at the mass IS (the priest.) At the exact same time, in the exact same meetings, we’re told that Christ is present four ways in the Mass: In the word, in the Eucharist, in the Priest and IN THE PEOPLE. Am I the only one sensing a bit of contradiction and hypocrisy? :Ahem:

SO anyway. To be clear: Optimistic but pragmatic. Still Catholic – Inspired by the new Pope but still feisty.

—–

In case you do not know or understand and have not already read it elsewhere in the media: The Jesuits are an order of Catholic clergymen who emphasize service to the poor and education. Many Catholic universities around the world are run by the Jesuits including Boston College, Fordham, Georgetown, Santa Clara, Gonzaga and anything with the name “Loyola” in the title. Many Jesuits are very educated, holding PhD’s in a variety of fields. The first priest to have a PhD in Film Studies is Fr. Richard Leonard, SJ, of Australia  They are scientists and physicians, too. The priest in charge of the Vatican observatory is a Jesuit. Many priest authors are Jesuits.

The founder of the Jesuits was St. Ignatius of Loyola. Ignatius is QUITE the character all on his own. Among other things, he taught his followers the “Daily Examen” and the concept of imaginative prayer: Meditating on Biblical scenes by putting yourself IN the scene. Imagining what you would see, smell, hear, taste and feel if you were in the scene, what you might say to the people in the story or what they might say to you, etc. They’re a bit notorious and have a bit of history with the Vatican. At times, the Vatican has censured the Jesuits over the years.

In other words, they can be feisty, too.

I love the Jesuits. I almost went to Loyola Marymount University but because UC Irvine accepted me and offered me dorm housing, I chose to not get stuck going to the same school as my then-boyfriend and risk getting stuck at a small, expensive school with an ex-boyfriend.

I love the Daily Examen prayer. My favorite author (and FRIEND because he said so,) Fr. James Martin is a Jesuit. Fr. James wrote the book “Between Heaven and Mirth,” and often speaks on the topic of humor in spiritual life.

Many Catholics, especially those of us with Jesuit experiences, tell Jesuit jokes the way some people tell lawyer jokes. And Fr. James talks about why telling these jokes is healthy! You can read more in his book, which makes a great gift for friends and family. (That’s one of Fr. Jim’s jokes at his seminars.)

So in honor of Pope Francis, and with a nod to his frugal lifestyle and vow of poverty, I present one of my favorite Jesuit Jokes. Fr. Jim was not the first to tell this joke and there are different versions involving different clerical orders. I’ve adapted from his version but not verbatim.

The Haircut

One day a Franciscan friar needed a haircut so he went to the barber. When he walked in to the shop, the barber asked him about the distinctive brown robes he wore. The friar explained that he was a member of the Franciscan order of priests.

“Of course!” said the barber, “I love the Franciscans! I love their dedication to the poor, their appreciation of nature. Every year our parish priest blesses the animals on the Feast of St. Francis. The Franciscans are wonderful!”

When he finished cutting the friar’s hair, the Franciscan asked how much he owed but the barber declined to charge him. The next day, when the barber arrived at his shop, a basket of wildflowers sat at his doorstep with a note of thanks from the Franciscan.

Later that day, a Trappist monk came to the same barber for a haircut. Again, the barber noticed his monastic robes and the monk explained that he was a member of the Trappist order.

“Of course!” said the barber, “I love the Trappists! Their dedication to prayer and Thomas Merton’s writings are so inspiring. And the products they make to support themselves – from coffins to coffee – they’re so talented.”

When he finished cutting the friar’s hair, the Trappist monk asked how much he owed but the barber declined to charge him. The next day, when the barber arrived at his shop, a basket of homemade jams from the monastery and a note of thanks from the monk sat at his doorstep.

Later that same day, a Jesuit priest came into the shop wearing his black Jesuit cassock. Again, the barber commented on the garb and the priest explained that he was a Jesuit.

“OF COURSE!” said the barber, “I LOVE the Jesuits! They have such a fine tradition of serving society as St. Ignatius taught them to be ‘Men for others!’ My son went to Loyola High School and Loyola Marymount. My daughter attends Santa Clara! I pray the Daily Examen nightly! Isn’t it wonderful that we have a Jesuit Pope!” (Ed. note: see what I did there?)

When he finished cutting the priest’s hair, the Jesuit asked how much he owed but the barber declined to charge him.

The next day, when the barber arrived at his shop, there was a line of 12 Jesuits waiting for him at this doorstep.

Dead Last

It started last month, or so, when I commented to a group of friends that, because my next scheduled half marathon event is not until September, currently, I’m in the “off-season.” Someone suggested I might sign up for an event before September and mentioned a 10K local to my home.

In my arrogance, I figured, why not? A 10K? In half marathon training, we call that Friday. I regularly walk further than 6 miles when preparing for a half, 10K would be no problem. After signing up, I felt mildly concerned: I know how to prepare for a half marathon, but how far should I be walking to prepare for a 10K. I walked a little bit in the weeks leading up to the 10K but really, I figured, how hard could this be? The event advertised no minimum pace and hey, check me out, I finish half marathons with 2000 people slower than me at least. I had this one in the bag.

Then I stuck my foot straight down my throat. I posted on a message board the question: “People train for a 10K?” A friend of mine responded – someone I really like and respect a lot. She, along with a few other friends I know, are training to build up their endurance for their first ever 10K events. Some want to build up for half marathons, others I hope will build up their confidence to consider half marathons. She replied to my snarky question, “Yes, some of us do.”

I felt 2-inches tall. As a back-of-the-packer, I regularly figure, “If I can do this, anyone can do this.” I really appreciate the support of the runners faster than me who do not diminish my accomplishment. And in one short sentence, I trivialized a group of people who are my friends. I, naturally, felt defensive: I completely believe in my heart that my friends can do this. I have more faith in them than they do!

But the reality remained: I trivialized their challenges. That’s just not the person I want to be.

But I still had more lessons in humility to come: As I posted last week, the day of the 10K, I lined up at the start line… a rather primitive start-line compared to my typical events. Yes, they had a chip reader set up to cross. But we just stood there – no corrals, no microphones and speakers, no DJs, just a guy talking to us and saying “OK, GO!” That was it. My friend and I started off running but not for long. By the time we finished the first mile, not only had every person behind us in the 10K passed us, but most of the 5K participants who started five minutes behind us had as well.

I watched my Garmin watch for our pace and time. Logically, someone should have been slower than us. My running buddy and friend Frannie walked with me. We had a respectable time for a couple of mostly walkers. Yet, still, we passed every turnaround and saw the walker/runners faster than we were ahead of us – and no one behind us. Ultimately, we crossed the finish line dead.last. (The official results report that someone crossed the finish line 30 seconds behind us but no one in our group remembers seeing anyone else come in after us. We would have seen someone behind us or if we passed someone on the course. Who knows what happened.)

—

I struggle with this issue: As a walker, I feel inadequate – or I feel that somehow the endurance event world considers me inadequate. Various events have different minimum time requirements. I appreciate runDisney events for the same reasons that many runners avoid them: runDisney offers walker-friendly opportunities. Yes, walkers are welcome on the runDisney courses! Imagine that. Even when most running experts agree that runners perform better in distance events when they take breaks and run with walking intervals, many runners refuse to stop for intervals. One runner I know so frequently makes dismissive comments to me when I say that I walk that I avoid mentioning any of my workouts or events to her. For months after earning my “bling” at a half marathon, I carry it in my purse and show off to friends and family. I keep my bling tightly secure in her presence. I just do not need to hear it from her. One time I saw her on my way to walk with my sons at their school and she said “Are you going to run with them?” Not thinking I said “We’re walking” and she said “Oh, come on, Adrienne! You should RUN!”

Why should I run? Really? What is wrong with walking???? Why is she diminishing my accomplishment????

I have experimented with interval training. I found that, thanks to the recovery time between even short intervals, my average pace significantly slowed when I tried to run. I realize, and I hope, that with training, my endurance and pace might improve, but I find myself very frustrated with just how hard this seems to be for me. I don’t know what my problem is: Is my body just not made to move faster? Does my BMI handicap me? Do I just not workout often enough? Am I not pushing myself hard enough because I like to avoid pain?

I have heard about programs designed to help people finish a 5K and I wonder “Why would someone need help to finish a 5K? A 5K is only three miles. My arrogant, flippant endurance distance athlete self would say of three miles: “We call that Tuesday.” A friend recently shared her experience with that program and the first thing I realized was “They don’t mean to help you finish a 5K, they mean to help you RUN a 5K.”

I asked her about the program she had and she said that to start off, the program suggested a running and walking interval of 1 minute 30 seconds. That is, run for 1:30 and then walk for 1:30.

One Minute Thirty Seconds.

Ok, so first of all, since September 2009, I have finished six half marathons and a 10K. I cannot run for one minute thirty seconds. By the end of my one minute intervals I’m ready to stop. I have even experimented with 30 second running intervals instead of one minutes, hoping the shorter recovery time might help my pace. But even the programs designed to encourage people to try the shortest event distance available set up an expectation to run. Running is the goal, not just conquering the distance.

I see many people who started participating in events after I did. Some found motivation on their own, some tell me that my stories inspired them to make and achieve their goals. And almost every single one of them finishes their events faster than I ever have. They not only caught up to me, they zipped straight past me, leaving me in their dust.

When I tell people I participate in half marathons, I often hear “Oh, I couldn’t do that. I can’t run like that” and I reply “Oh, I don’t run!” I feel so much healthier and so accomplished, I want others to know that they can, too! But somehow I still sense that walking isn’t good enough.

Are some people just lazier than I am? Don’t they see that this fat, middle aged, menopausal mom of three can do it? How do they realize they can, too? Do I not give myself enough credit?

When I redundantly ask, “People train for a 10K?”, I’m not trying to dismiss their challenges and accomplishments, I’m minimizing my own.

I get validation from my “peers.” I know plenty of runners who think my pace is fine and dandy. They encourage me and support me. They answer my questions. They virtually cheer for me over Facebook and internet message boards, even when we live thousands of miles apart from each other. When an online update misreports my split times, they worry about me. When an online report shows me making up time between splits, they cheer for me. My cup overflows and my heart swells when I read their cheers hours after the race was over – I know in the middle of my events that even though they might not be standing on the side of the road, they follow my progress.

But then…

Then I come in last. I question myself. Instead of congratulating myself for getting my butt off the couch, I criticize myself for not being good enough to get better. I beat myself up and throw myself a pity party.

The good news is that I have a new sense of pride for my friends starting the path. I need to find the balance and the perspective.

Here is my new hope for myself:

If I cannot train myself to a faster pace, I hope I can come to accept my accomplishments and give myself the credit I deserve instead of beating myself up for not feeling good enough.

I guess we’ll wait and see.

If I Were A Cardinal

Everyone’s talking about who the next Pope might be. Well, ok, not EVERYONE. But a lot of people. This isn’t really an extensive list. If I sat around and thought about it more, I might come up with someone that I like to be pope but who wouldn’t be chosen but would  make for an interesting story.

Before my list, I want to post a link to a list of all the Cardinal’s names in Latin, in case you want to try to guess who it is when they read the announcement.

There’s only one “Timothy” and one “He Who Shall Be Named” (No worries, it would NEVER be him.) But there’s lots of John/Sean/Juan/Giovanni/Joao/Jean’s, so that could be tricky… There’s two “James”, but not the right one.

Here’s my list of Papal Possibilities…

1. If I had to pick a Cardinal, Who Would I Pick: Cardinal Sean O’Malley of Boston – The man has cleaned up three places plagued by some of the worst sex abuse scandal. I get a sense of true compassion and appreciation for the dignity of all people from O’Malley. He’s good. I’m not generally a fan of the Cardinals – this is a guy I can get behind. For more about O’Malley, I suggest reading John Allen’s article here, about the three American Cardinals with any chance at all of becoming pope.

2. If I had to bet, Who Would I Pick: Close Tie between Cardinal Angelo Scola of Italy or Cardinal Odilo Pedro Scherer of Brazil.

Mostly just from things I’ve read about them. In choosing them, I dismissed the Canadian and the guy from Ghana. But if I had to bet, I think it will probably come down to these two.

3. If I could pick a not-a-Cardinal but it still had to be a male, I’d choose Fr. James Martin SJ.

Ok, I wouldn’t for selfish reasons: I wouldn’t get to see him every year at the Religious Ed Congress if he were Pope. You need to know, after you read the article above, that on his Facebook page, one fan suggested that he rearrange his name so he could be Pope PB&J. Seriously, though, I suspect we’d have my kind of Pope if Fr. Jim were elected, all humor aside. But with all humor back again, Fr. Jim also made a video of the top 10 reasons to be Pope and the top 10 reasons NOT to be Pope:

Dear Parker, No. 7

It’s still Monday. I started to type this last night but got distracted and didn’t get it posted. Better late than never – I’ll blame Daylight Savings Time.

The big event from last week was my walk on Monday. My friend, Fat Girl On Fire, and I met at a nearby trailhead to walk together. It was the first time I met anyone to walk together and I really enjoyed it. Actually, that’s not entirely true. A few years ago, I would somewhat regularly meet up with a local group of moms. But for a variety of reasons, I just never kept it up and it didn’t work out.

It was also the first time either of has had walked that particular trail. We found out it was a bit more narrow than I realized and had a hill or two, but we enjoyed the trail and the company.

The next day, another friend asked me if I might ever want to meet up with her to walk together. I told her absolutely!

My numbers aren’t great this week but I did study a little. Recently, my Weight Watchers meeting moved from a “site” to a dedicated storefront. At the storefront, we no longer use little paper folders to track our meetings and progress because they have dedicated computers. It’s pretty cool because by the time I leave the weigh-in area to take my seat, my phone app already knows my updated weight. Before we left the site, they let me take my folder home to keep.

The thing about my folder is… it was pretty thick. In fact, it was thicker than pretty much any folder there. If I had been any other member, they probably would have trashed my folder during one of their regular purges. If a member fails to attend over so many months, they assume the member dropped and trash the folder. Technically, I am a lifetime member so I never have to pay a registration fee or missed meetings whenever I come back. In addition, I happen to know a couple of the receptionists outside of the meetings. One of them told me she “knew” I would come back eventually so she never threw out my folder. Over the years there were a couple of long absences but every time I went back, my folder awaited me!

This week, I went through my folder. I knew my weight had gradually climbed from my “all time, post 2005 low,” but I wondered how far I was from my “average low.” (This all makes sense in my head. I don’t know if it makes sense in anyone else’s head, but mine, yes.)

Here’s what I found:

Every year I started off the year on a downward trend in January that evens off in March. Beginning in March, I start a yo-yo pattern that gradually works its way up the scale. This year I need to break that cycle.

I’m very glad I analyzed the data. Let’s see how well this works!

My Goals Summary & Update

Not-Entirely Off Season Training: For 16 weeks, walk 4 days a week, Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and one more, and I’ll consider myself successful with 75% completion.

25% completion. Yeah it is what it is.

Weight Loss:

* 10 pounds by Mother’s Day, which will represent the half-way mark.+0.4 lbs this week, -3.8 lbs down, 6.2 to go.

* 25 pounds by Labor Day, which will be the lowest I’ve weighed since before I had kids. +0.4 lbs this week, -3.8 lbs down, 21.2 to go.

* 40 pounds by Martin Luther King Day, 2014. I can’t tell you the last time I weighed that little but it could be 21 years. +0.4 lbs this week, -3.8 lbs down, 35.8 to go.

0.4 lbs up. It is what it is. I’m ok with that because I’m still more down than I am up and I’m still progressing to my goal. I have to nip it in the bud but small gains are part of the process.

Tuna Melts

Lent is hard for a Catholic who doesn’t really like fish. Well, it’s not impossible. There’s plenty of cheese pizza and cheese enchiladas. But egg salad sandwiches only go so far and don’t really make the best dinner.

I do like deep fried fish and chips. Yummmm. And I like shrimp. But I don’t cook fish or shrimp. I cook marvelous scallops but I’m not made of money.

A few years ago, I tried a tuna melt for the first time. My mom does not like tuna very much, especially warm tuna, so growing up, we rarely, if ever, had tuna. But boy do I enjoy an all-white tuna melt on sourdough bread. Yummmm.

Here’s how:

Tuna Melts

 

3 5-oz. cans Albacore (white) tuna 
1/2 red onion, finely chopped 
3 stalks celery, finely chopped
1/4 – 1/3 c. mayonnaise, plus extra
Sliced sourdough bread
Sliced cheese of your choice such as muenster, provolone, pepper jack, colby jack
Softened butter or margarine

Mix the onion, celery and tuna in a bowl. Add the mayonnaise, really, you want just enough to moisten the tuna and help it stick together. Don’t use too much mayonaise.

Spread butter or margarine on one side of each piece of bread. If you like, put a little mayonnaise on the bread, also – it helps!

Heat an electric skillet, or even better, a cast iron skillet. (You might want to wipe the cast iron skillet with some oil. Sometimes, my skillet’s coating works better than others.) Place one piece of bread on the skillet. Scoop some of the tuna on the bread. Lay pieces of cheese over the tuna until they cover the tuna. Add the second piece of bread. If you’re using the cast iron skillet, put a lid over the skillet. If you’re using the electric skillet – If you have a domed skillet or pot lid in your cupboards, break it out and place it over the sandwich. The lid will help the heat gather around the sandwich and start to melt the cheese.

After a few minutes, when the bottom of the sandwich is toasty and lifts from the skillet, carefully turn the sandwich over. Replace the lid. After a few minutes, check the sandwich. When both sides are toasty brown and the cheese is melted, pull the sandwich off the pan and onto the plate.

Enjoy!

Dear Parker, No. 6

SIX WEEKS IN A ROW!!! Get me a gold star sticker or something! Sit back and pour yourself a cup of milk, kid, this one is going to be long… What a week it was!

Last weekend was the 10K that your mom, Melissa, made me do. And by made me do she said “I’ll sign up and do it with you, if you sign up.” Clearly, she’s got the power. Then she called our friend Frannie and made her do it, too, but Frannie got a Starbucks out of the deal so I think I should’ve held out for a Coffee Bean Iced Nonfat Latte, don’t you?

They assigned me bib number 42. That’s right boys, Mom’s the answer to everything.

In any event, we had the 10K on Saturday. You may have heard your Mommy moaning and groaning all day Saturday afternoon about it, but probably not because she handles her aches and pains with a lot of grace and courage, if you ask me. My knee injury from last weekend did not prevent me from any walking all week so I had no worries there.

It was hot and hilly. Your mom took off to run right off the bat. It became very quickly obvious that Frannie and I were walking in very last place. When the guy somewhere in the first mile mentioned that there was a time limit, we decided we better run some intervals so we would not get swept off of the course. When it wasn’t too hilly or painful, we tried to keep a five-minute walk to one-minute run interval. You’ll please note that this was much faster than everyone behind us who didn’t even start the 10K that day.

In numerical order, Frannie, Melissa and I “Made a Muscle” – Go Team Muscle Makers for UCMD! Please note the sunglasses and headbands. We all dressed independently Saturday morning, great minds just think alike.

Before we hit the first mile, I felt a blister forming on my left foot. This shocked me because in all my six half-marathons and training for them, I have never, ever dealt with blisters on my feet. Sore feet? Yes. Shin splints? Oh, you betcha. Hip pain? Sure! But blisters? Never. The 10K advertised that their course covered several trails so everyone in our little group wore our “older” shoes: We didn’t want to get our new, pretty shoes dirty! I noticed that with my ultra thin socks, my Nike Vomeros fit a bit loosely so I wondered if maybe I needed to put some Body Glide on my feet when I wear my ultra-thin socks.

We continued on and waved at the other participants passing us on the course after the turnarounds. Ultimately, we finished dead last but felt accomplished. I felt blisters on two feet by the time we finished, but at least we finished. We had joked around before the event that they did not offer medals. We worried they might cancel the event due to a nearby brush fire – or that we might abandon the event if the air quality was too bad because of the fire. We considered making up our own event. Actually, that was your dad’s idea, let’s give credit where credit is due. That gave me the idea to make some medals since we would not otherwise get any medals. My husband met us at the finish line and put our medals over our necks because that is the most appropriate way to receive a medal after an event.

Medals! We had medals!

After the 10K, we wanted food. Even though it was only 10:00 am, we went to a local family owned restaurant known for an amazing “quesadilla” that easily serves two to four people each. We forced your mom and Frannie to order some with us. And by forced I mean, I asked my kids if they wanted to go there for quesadillas and their eyes glazed over and gushed on them so badly that they had no choice. I have the power, too.

When I got home, I took of my shoes to investigate the blister damage and after I kicked myself around for being a bonehead I knew exactly what happened:

Last December, I bought custom inserts. I took the Nike insoles out of my Vomeros and tried out the custom inserts in my Vomeros. I took the custom inserts out of the Vomeros to try them in a new pair of shoes. I have not worn my Vomeros since then, nor did I ever return the Nike insoles to the Vomeros. I put the Vomeros on Saturday morning without noticing the lack of insoles. When my foot had so much room to wiggle around, I assumed the ultra-thin socks just made the shoes feel roomier, not that I had no insoles in the shoes.

Yeah. Not so much.

Even with the blisters, I had a respectable, for me, time in the 10K. I would like to have had a faster time but with the hills and heat and blisters, I’m good with 94 minutes. A 16-minute pace would have been over 96 minutes so at least we beat the Disney “Race Pace.” Coming in last was ok because I know my pace and my abilities, so my ranking does not affect my personal sense of accomplishment.

I signed up for and completed a non-Disney, non-medal awarding event in my ‘off-season,” and that is enough accomplishment for me.

I actually finished the week very strong because not only did I pass my exercise resolution, it seems to me that my time and mileage look pretty decent: I “only” exercised three times but that made for 10.55 miles and 2 hours 46 minutes. If you divided that by 4, that would be 44 minute workouts, and more than 2 miles each. I think even though the frequency was not there, the quality is pretty darn terrific if you ask me.

Wait until you see what else happened this week in the Weekly Round-Up. I may have squealed a little bit:

My Goals Summary & Update

Not-Entirely Off Season Training: For 16 weeks, walk 4 days a week, Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and one more, and I’ll consider myself successful with 75% completion.

75% completion for 10.55 miles, 2 hours 46 minutes of exercise time. SUCCESS!

Weight Loss:

* 10 pounds by Mother’s Day, which will represent the half-way mark. -2.4 lbs this week!!!, -4.2 lbs down, 5.8 to go.

* 25 pounds by Labor Day, which will be the lowest I’ve weighed since before I had kids. -2.4 lbs this week, -4.2 lbs down, 20.8 to go.

* 40 pounds by Martin Luther King Day, 2014. I can’t tell you the last time I weighed that little but it could be 21 years. -2.4 lbs this week, -4.2 lbs down, 35.8 to go.

2.4 pounds down!!! SCORE!! This did reflect two weeks of work because I skipped my weigh-in last week but this number far exceeded my expectations. I really did not track very well but I have been tracking my activities better so tracking something did pay off big! I have 10 weeks to lose 5.8 lbs before Mother’s Day. If I keep up the rate I’ve been going, even if I slow down the rate of loss, I can make it!

My Equipment Update:

Word to the wise: Always, ALWAYS makes sure your shoes have insoles in them before you put them on.

Thin moleskin is garbage. Use the thick stuff.

I wore the thin Halo headband on Saturday, putting on the edge of my skull, pulling back the bangs. Even without the bangs I think I looked ok, the headband stayed in place, too. I’m interested in finding more sources for no slip headbands. I’m starting to believe they might be able to work for me!

Can’t Pigeonhole Us… The Church

I’m Catholic. But don’t presume you know what that means about me, ok?

The hardest thing for me, about being a Catholic today, is that saying that I’m Catholic is like saying I’m an American. One size does not fit all.

I am beyond frustrated with the sex abuse crisis, just as I think it’s fair to say, all of us are. Yes, there are people who are sick with their denial but I would contend that even they are frustrated, even if it’s a grossly misguided frustration. Just as I am frustrated with politicians, I’m grossly frustrated with the politicians in the Catholic church. One of my least favorite, is a well known public figure from the archdiocese just to the north west of mine. I refuse to post his name or link back to his narcissistic blog. I won’t dare to drive traffic to his self-absorbed and, frankly, sick public postings that he’s made in the aftermath of calls to hold him accountable for his actions, and a slap on the wrist by his current “superior”. To hear him tell it, he is the victim. I already was not a big fan of his but now his name and image make my stomach turn even more. If you aren’t going to accept what piddly consequences have come your way, go away. Stop telling us how awesomely humble you are, maybe we might believe it if you showed it.

I can’t quite pigeonhole my politics – I currently cannot name a single politician who I support because none of them promote MY agenda. Here I sit in the middle, aligning with the fiscal right on many issues, but on the social left with some issues, emphatically for the separation of church and state, defending life on both sides of that issue, defending the dignity of all humans regardless of color, creed, gender or orientation. Sitting on my couch, I think they’re (mostly) all a bunch of liars and hypocrites, blind guides and blind fools. (I’m sorry. I also have some very good people in my life who are involved in politics. So just posting that makes me a hypocrite. I don’t know how they live in that system. It would drive me nuts.)

So. Back to the Church. Last weekend, I spent a spirit and faith-filled weekend with about 29,999 other Catholics in Anaheim, California. Let me tell you, you’d think that hey, a bunch of Catholics celebrating Mass together – six on Friday, six on Saturday, two on Sunday – Reconciliation centers overflowing with lines, prayer services and a prayer chapel open throughout the weekend, along with 184 speakers, many of whom are priests (bishops even,) or other religious (sisters, brothers, etc,) – you’d think that would be a cause for celebration throughout the church. You’d think that this would be a sign that the church is alive and thriving.

Yeah, no. There’s a bunch of Catholics who want the Archbishop of Los Angeles to shut it down. They don’t like the Congress – they think it’s too progressive, not conservative enough. Some of the speakers call for conversations with which they disagree.

Yeah.

Make no mistake, there are likewise conferences that make the more progressive Catholics cringe, but this conference, sponsored by the local Archdiocese, not some radical group, brings criticism. In fact, one thing I notice in the blogosphere is that basic common practices out here in the west coast, make many on the east coast itch under their collars (priestly, religious and lay.)

The thing that strikes me, having studied the catechism and a bit of both Canon Law and the Vatican II documents: It’s a big church. Any time I hear someone say that something is not “appropriate” I listen with an ear of skepticism. Most of the time, when someone says that something is “Against” the church teachings or policies or theologies, whathaveyou, well, chances are that either they are ill-informed, they missed a loop-hole (that Canon Law is full of loop-holes,) or another church teaching can be used to support the very same idea.

There’s a joke among us Catholics. Go ahead. Ask me why that is… “It’s a mystery.”

So, summing up the intro:

It’s a really big church. I’m so grateful that it’s a really big church. I sit side by side in mass with people who agree or disagree with me on many things. I know the one thing that (should) unite us all: The seven Capital S Sacraments, most especially the celebration of the Eucharist. Over the past several weeks since the Pope announced his retirement, I’ve read several essays in the media proclaiming this message: Don’t try to fit us all into one stereotype. It’s a really big church.

I came home from Congress rejuvenated and so validated in so many different ways. I heard awesome speakers who validated the awesome ministry work I do as Baptism Coordinator in my parish. I heard my very favorite author, a Jesuit, who writes books on both prayer and about his faith journey. I met with publishers of my favorite prayer daily prayer resource, Give Us This Day.

Let me say, while I identify myself as a progressive Catholic, you can’t pigeonhole me there, either. Yes, I think we need to have a conversation about the priesthood. I waffle on my opinions and thoughts on celibacy. I believe, as do others less “progressive” than I am, I will see something drastic in my lifetime: Will it be an end to celibacy? An end to the all-male priesthood? A great schism in the Church? I don’t know. What is a bigger threat to the church hierarchy: Married priests or celibate women?

But conversation does not mean I’m advocating for “disobedience.” (Oh, I hate that word.) I don’t think it’s disobeying anything to say “We need to talk about this and consider this, consider the impact of not making changes.”

And just because I consider myself “progressive” does not mean I ignore the fundamentals of the Faith. What it comes down to for me, is that over thousands of years, a lot of the stuff on the outside has changed, the fundamentals of the faith remain.

My point… I do have one… Where did this come from?

Watching the coverage of Pope Benedict’s final day as the Pontiff is driving me a little bit nuts. I’m tired of anchors and reporters speaking about topics without doing their homework or without really paying attention.

This morning a local reporter commented that He Who I Refuse To Name is a “Cardinal Emeritus” because the region has a new Cardinal. No. He is the Archbishop Emeritus. The region does not have a new Cardinal. Cardinal is not an office, it’s an honorary title. The Cardinal is still a Cardinal, and he’s still young enough to be in Rome voting for the new Pontiff. Thanks for playing, but the new head of the local church is “just” an Archbishop.

A few minutes later, the co-anchor back in the studio commented on speculation that the Pope is stepping down because he’s so upset about the scandals in the Church.

No. He’s not. Let’s back up, because apparently y’all either have short term memories or just don’t pay attention to these things like I do…

I’m not the least bit surprised that the Pope retired. Nope. I’m not. He caught me off guard retiring NOW but surprised? No. Years ago, when the college of cardinals elected him, the then new Pope said he would step down when his health prevented him from performing the tasks of Pope properly. Not if, but when.

I think this is the ultimate legacy of Benedict. So many people had expectations of this Pope. Many hoped, and many dreaded, he would bring the church to more orthodoxy. Many regretted he did not do more in this regard, many thought he did a great job, many will disagree with both opinions.

But with everything in me, I think this is what Benedict set out to do when he became Pope. He saw his predecessor’s health slide. While I have no idea what happened behind the Vatican walls, I have to wonder what happened during that time? Did the scandals plaguing the church today suffer when the Pope’s health prevented him from being fully attentive to the needs of the very large church?

This morning, my middle son said he wished that the Pope just kept the job until he died because it would make the transition easier. “They wouldn’t have to figure out what to do since the Pope is still alive! They already know what to do when the Pope dies but since he’s alive, they have to figure out what to do now.”

I sort of giggled but then I did something I’ve rarely done, I defended and affirmed Benedict: That, my son, is EXACTLY why he did this. Now, NOW we have a guideline in place. Now we know what will happen when the Pope retires. And now, the next Pope will have a graceful example to follow. I’m frankly rather surprised that this isn’t more obvious to others in the media – or else it does not fit their agendas? Or their pigeonholes?

Oh yes, Joseph Ratzinger knew exactly what he was getting into when he said “Accepto.” And this may very well be the greatest gift he could’ve given the church. A legacy to bravely take us into the future, no matter what that future looks like.