Death to Elvis Paneling

We haven't used our basement rec room for the last ten year - and only sporadically before that. It still has the original paneling that was up when we moved in. We call it Elvis paneling because you see it everywhere...

It's brown and butt ugly. It has to go.

We recently turfed all the furniture out of the room and put in a home gym complete with weights, treadmill, and recombent bike.

There is a lot of 'stuff' stored in the corner that Reg has been keeping for 'something.' I'm slowly moving it out to the curb on trash day - a bit at a time so he won't notice. With any luck he'll never ask about it and I'll be home free.

Now that we have all the equipment, I'd like to brighten up the room with drywall and paint. That means Elvis has to go. If I start campaigning now (read nagging) it might get gone by next summer. I'm not holding my breath because Reg won't see the need for it to go, but I will be keeping my fingers crossed.

Some Improvement in the System

I admit to having a disturbed week over the 'E' situation. She has been put into what appears to be a very stable environment, where both foster parents are anxious to keep her on a long-term basis (meaning until her own Mom is willing or able to take her back.) Unfortunately, because she is deemed to be a 'transitional' child, she will be removed from this home after a two week period and moved to another place.

I think of my two grandsons, aged 7 and 5, who can both speak and hear, and I wonder how they would react to being put into a home with people they don't know, and then be moved every two weeks because that's what the system says they have to do. Would there be any wonder if they started acting out or became 'troublesome' at school? 'E' can't hear and she doesn't speak. The terror these children must feel is beyond my comprehension.

The one ray of light is that E will be coming back to my bus starting Monday mornining. At least she won't have to deal with a new bus driver. The teachers are happy that I will be driving her - my best hope is that E will be happy to see me and the other two children.

I'm not supposed to let myself become attached to any child that I drive - but it's impossible for me. I don't know how the teachers handle it. God Bless them and somebody PLEASE pay them more!!

This Country's Child Welfare System SUCKS!!

I'm angry this morning. Very angry.

I'm retired. I'm retired from my regular job of work. However, it doesn't take a long time to realize that doing nothing is not all that it's cracked up to be so I have a couple of 'jobs' that I do to keep busy.

On weekdays I drive special ed children to and from school. This year the 3 children that I drive are profoundly deaf. K is a 12 year old boy who communicates fairly well with me and helps out with the younger children in the van. It makes him happy to help and it makes me happy that he is able to. S is 4. She has had many health problems in her little life, but she's a firecracker and a joy to be around. E is barely 4 - no hearing and VERY little speech. She was removed from her own family by Children's Aid in August and put into foster care. I have no idea why she was removed from her own home. E is a difficult child in that she is always in motion and mostly always screaming in an attempt to communicate. Her foster parents are (were) over 60.

Generally, 4 year old children are not in school all day 5 days a week in Ontario, but the hearing impaired have to be so that they can catch up on communication and social skills. All that time away from home has to be hard on them, and my little girls are usually asleep by the time I get them home.

Yesterday I went to pick my charges up at the usual time. We got S & E loaded into their car seats and buckled in to wait for K to come out of his classroom. Just as we were about to leave a teacher came running out and said E had to be taken off the bus - someone from Children's Aid was coming to pick her up. There were tears in the teacher's eyes as she explained to me that E was too much for the foster parents to handle, so she was being moved to another foster home.

Just like that - two 'too-old-to-handle-a-4 yr old' adults decided to toss this beautiful little girl back into the system where it is unlikely she will ever have any continuity or stability in her life because she is labelled as 'difficult.' She won't be allowed to go back to their home, and her clothes and few possessions will be forwarded.

I wanted to pick her up and give her a big hug and squeeze her with all my might - but I'm not allowed to do that. I am allowed no physical contact with the children because it PROTECTS MY ASS!!! What kind of society have we become?

Repost of Half Marathon Report - 2007

This is what a 61 year old former 300+ pounder looks like at the end of a Half Marathon.

Exhausted, sweaty, and totally out of her freakin' mind with happiness!! I DID IT.

I had doubts right up until the day before, but my mind settled down and I knew I would finish no matter what. The elements threw me every curve they could think of. It was pouring rain when I woke up at 3:30 am, and it stayed that way pretty much all day. The race was across town, and started at 8 am. I left home at 6:30 to be sure to get a good parking spot. I'm a tad obsessive and I readily admit it.

I picked up my race package the day before, so I was wearing my race specific tech shirt and a matching hat - it's all about style ya know...lol Went to the sign-up tent to find out about a timing chip and was informed that we weren't using chips, they'd just tear the bottom off our race bibs as we crossed the line. Okey dokey. Now I have over an hour to kill in the rain.

The nerves started to get the better of me so I thought I should find a washroom. It was located 1/4 mile from the start line and I should have just stayed there once I arrived because I had to go 5 times in the hour. The good news is that I didn't have to for the entire race. My sister was coming from Toronto to observe, and I kept looking for her, but no luck. The race was about to start and I still had my jacket on, and no place to leave it. I tied the arms around my waist and tucked the loose ends into the arms and got into the lineup - at the back of the pack.

The gun went off and the pack took off and I felt like I was standing still. There was not ONE single person moving at my pace. I'm guessing they were all doing 8 minute miles from the get go. I lost them at the first turn and never saw them again until they were on the return leg. My sister showed up at about mile 2 and I was able to give her my jacket and whine a bit about how I was SO last. She gave me encouragement and joked that maybe somebody ahead would fall and I could catch up. She didn't mean it in a mean way - she was just trying to make me laugh. It worked.

By this time the 5k racers caught up to me and they all passed. I was truly alone. I kept plodding along at my own pace - which was constant at between 13 and 14 minutes per mile. I felt good except for the rain which by now and soaked me to the skin. Blessings on the makers of Body Glide. Without it I think there would have been some serious chafing going on.

I believe I was at about 4.5 miles when the elite front runners came around a corner - to the tune of a police motorcycle siren - on their way back in. I stopped to admire their grace and fluidity as they blew past me. The first 6 miles of the race were all uphill. Some steep parts and some gradual slopes but all uphill. I kept thinking how easy the return route was going to be. Mile 7 was a water stop and when I stopped to drink, both my calf muscles siezed up into knots. You know those really evil charley horses you get in the middle of the night? Just like that but worse. Everything seized from my toes right up to my hip on the right side and just the toes and calf on the left.

I did some stretching and loosened my shoes and started walking. I was able to run for short spurts, but it wasn't looking good for me but I was determined to finish the race. My hands and feet were both really swollen, and I have no idea why. I've done the distance before and never had those problems - in fact I've never had any problems. Too bad they all had to manifest on the same day. The medical team was two guys on bikes that were supposed to stay at the back of the pack. I was so far back by now that one of them stayed with the others, and the other one became my personal escort. He never for one minute stopped encouraging me. I would run for a bit, and then walk for a bit. He asked me if I wanted him to call for help. I told him I would break his walkie talkie and deflate his tires if he even tried it...lol

On the return route, all the water stations were closed and packed up, but they had left 4 cups of water for me at each one. They knew I was coming, they just didn't want to wait any longer in the rain. My sister and grandsons met me at mile 11 for more encouragement. A race official told me to just keep moving and I'd be fine and it wasn't far to the finish. Not far my A$$!! It was another 2.1 miles!!!

I finally made it, and my oldest grandson ran the last 100 meters with me to get me across the finish line. That was the hardest 100 meters I have ever run. When they put the medal around my neck I started to cry. A few people had stayed behind in the rain to cheer me over the finish and that was a wonderful feeling to have people other than family wish me well. The food was packed up, the water was long gone, but I could not have eaten anything anyway. My goal was to finish 13.1 miles in about 3 hours and 15 minutes. I finished in 3 hours and 30 minutes. The last person to cross before me did so in 2 hours and 10 minutes. The winner was 1 hour and 11 minutes. I was definitely in the wrong race - everyone was obviously much more experienced than I. But you know what? I don't care. Not one of those runners enjoyed their race as much as I did. It will never mean more to anybody than it does to me. I got the medal AND I came first in my age category!! HILARIOUS!!

I got a Saucony tech shirt for that but I had to go to the store to pick it up because the prize ceremony was over long before I got there. My husband had an engraved trophy waiting for me at the finish. I will wear my medal until everybody is sick of looking at it or I can't find anybody else to show it to, and then I'll have it framed with my number and hang it on a wall somewhere. I hope I never get used to this feeling. Without the help of my virtual running friends I would never have done this race. I would never have had the fortitude to stick to running all this time.

If you ever think you can't do a half marathon - think of me. You can do it if you believe in yourself and work hard. Oh - and drink lots of water. Running 13.1 miles when you're dehydrated is painful and no fun.

Thanksgiving Sunday Gobbler Gallop and Giblet Jog

Last year I ran the main race alone and my grandsons Noah and Hunter did the Giblet Jog for little kids. The race is held in a kid-friendly park, and the children run with a giant human dressed as a seal, and every child gets a finishing medal with a ribbon that says - I Jogged for the Food Bank. At the end of my race Noah told me that he wanted to run with me next time because everybody in my race got free water at the end...lol

So - this year I had lots of company in my race. My partner Reg has been running since early spring, and we entered him AND Noah in the main race. Hunter ran in the Giblet Jog and finished very quickly. We had to coax him to go last year, but he's 5 now and a bit more sure of himself. He only agreed to come this year because we told him there would be pizza and ice cream.

Neither Reg or Noah have ever run 5k, and they both started out way too fast for their capabilities, but they got a good lead on the pack before they had so slow down to walk. The pack was almost all Moms or Dads with kids, with the exception of a couple of guys in serious race gear who looked seriously ridiculous trying to outrun families. Some people eh? LOL

At about the half way mark Noah was burned out. He's only 7, and it was a very hot day, and he wasn't dressed for heavy activity. I had to really talk him into taking his ball cap off and walking for a while. He was afraid we were going to be last. When I told him that we had already passed so many people that there was no chance of being last, he relented and walked until we got near the finish line. Hunter saw us approaching and ran onto the road to run across the finish line with us. Hot Dogger Grandpa had already finished.

Noah was happiest to be able to pour a couple of cups of water over his head - and he didn't even have to pay for them! I told him to go and check the prize board, and thank the powers that watch over small boys he run a prize!! He got a Saucony bag with a pair of socks and a t-shirt inside, both of them miles too big for him, but he didn't care. He kept the t-shirt and gave the socks to Grandpa. Pizza, popsicles and ice cream topped off the morning and a fantastic time was had by all.

Watch Noah's video race report here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Lw2JLwKDiA

Tick Tick BOOM!

I had FANTASTIC run this morning! I left at 5:30am when it's still pitch dark out and took off down the street and around the perimeter of the college. I love that time of day when there are no other pedestrians out (am I a pedestrian even if I'm running?) and traffic is minimal. The downside is that I have to contend with traffic lights - and they are seldom in my favour, but that's ok.

For the last few months I haven't really felt comfortable on my runs. I get them done, but I've had a lot of issues with aches and pains on my left side. Oddly enough, these pains started when I started running with Reg. He usually runs behind me, and he noticed that I tilt my head to the left side almost from take-off. I have no clue why that is, unless my eyes are making some sort of weird adjustment. I got contact lenses last fall so I could actually see while running, because my glasses got too steamed up and I usually ran half blind. I also fell a lot because I couldn't see the cracks in the sidewalk.

I digress.

I was listening to the 4 Feet Running podcast the other day, and Dan mentioned that he tends to over-think his running. A light bulb went off. Reg does that too, and for that reason I don't think he'll ever be a comfortable runner. He's always thinking about what he's doing instead of just doing it. When he told me that I tilt to the left side, I made a conscious effort to straighten up. I was trying to follow the rules of Chi running and stand up straight, pull my belly in, and do a mid-foot strike. Too much 'stuff' for me. I will admit that the mid-sole strike seems to be working, but all the other stuff was just too much.

So...I decided this morning to just go out there and do my own thing and to hell with the rules. According to Mr. Garmin and Nike+ I ran 3.5 miles in 37:20 AND Tiger Woods congratulated me on a fastest mile (since I got the new sensor.) Life does not get better.

Thanks to Dan for reminding me to remember that I got into this sport for FUN, not for technical correctness. Some people might be good Chi runners - but I ain't one of them.

Moving with the Times

I had an interesting conversation with my mother the other day. She's 82 years old, and still travels all over the world. She went to China last year, a Mediterranean cruise this summer, and she's going to New Zealand in February. She volunteers at the Cancer Clinic, does tours at the Banting House, and works in her church's soup kitchen. I think she has one day a week to herself. I guess my point is - she doesn't let any grass grow under her feet and she isn't a frail, stupid woman.

She will not use a computer or the Internet.

A few years ago, when my sister was living in Thailand, we got her a computer so the two of them could keep in touch easily and frequently. Try as I might, I could not get her to understand how e-mail works. A two year old will sit at a computer and bang away until he figures it out - not my Mum. My frustration level was off the scale most days when she would call for help with a simple task that she just couldn't grasp. I kept telling her she wouldn't break the computer by hitting the wrong key - just DO IT!! Nope. She refused to learn. The minute my sister returned from Thailand, Mum ditched the computer.

So - back to my conversation with her. She plans to go visit my sister and her partner over the Thanksgiving weekend. She will be travelling by train. After spending several frustrating minutes on the telephone with the train company, she was told that she could only get a certain discount if she booked her trip online. "But I don't have a computer." "Well, you could ask someone who has one to do it for you." Simple solution - right? Nope. My mother would rather bitch and complain about how everybody automatically assumes that everybody has the internet than ask me or one of her grandchildren to book the trip for her. That would mean giving up some of her personal freedom (in her eyes.)

I tried to tell her that it was just the same as back in the day when only a few people had telephones. If you didn't have a phone you might have to ask a friend to use theirs. She refuses to see the comparison, and refuses to have anything more to do with 'modern' technology (which she honestly believes in not something anybody needs.)

My husband has much the same attitude to the internet and computers in general. He is able to browse the net to get his crossword puzzles and sports scores - but that's the extent of it. He doesn't have an email address, and is totally baffled by commonly used internet/computer terms. As long as he has me around to sort things out for him he's quite happy to be a mushroom.

Which brings me to my latest fun thing. As long as we have had internet service (probably 10 years or more) I have been fascinated by the fact that I can connect and converse with people from all over the world. In all that time I have never met in reality a single person that I have 'met' online, but I still consider many of them to be true friends. Technology has progressed to the point where it is easier to send a photo or even movie of a life event to someone 10,000 miles away, than it is to walk across the street with it to show a 'flesh' friend.

Podcasts have become one of my favourite forms of entertainment. I listen to people from my personal areas of interest and feel that I'm having a conversation with a friend. When I decided two years ago to teach myself to run - it was a solitary endeavour. I work on weekends, so running clubs are out of the question, and at that time I didn't know anyone else who ran. My family and friends thought I was just plain crazy. When I found Running Podcasts I felt that I had found my 'pack.' People I will never meet - but get to know through their weekly broadcasts about their own running experiences. It really makes me feel that I'm not alone out there.

It came to me one day last week that I could share a little of my running experiences with my online friends by making small movies of my runs and sharing them on YouTube. Here are my first two attempts:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3tlwRMV-BrY

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dZn-wNHJtQk

So there you have it. I'll make another next weekend when we run with the grandchildren. As time goes on and technology advances, quality of the movies should improve. For now - to me - it's still pretty darned amazing.