Babies and Racing.

My dear friend Claire asked me to be with her during her labor.  What a privilege!  So Friday afternoon at 1:00 we headed over to the hospital and Matt and Claire's sweet little baby was born at around 5AM.  It was really special to be on the other side of a birth and to offer some support to Claire.  She did amazingly well with a long labor.  I will now add "doula" to my list of things I might like to do in the future.  Birth is so amazing.

After a couple hours of sleep, our family quickly rallied (does anyone else with kids feel like you are often rushing out the door for things) to head over to our 5 km race.

Riley on the way over said, "I'm not sure if I feel hungry or sick."  We explained that those were nervous butterflies and they were a good thing because they meant he was doing something exciting and that his body was getting ready for it.

We decided to run the first couple kms as a family and then divide up, me with Riley and Adam running with Kyla and pushing Ivy in her stroller.  The kids set a 6 min/km pace from the beginning and kept asking if they could go faster.  We encouraged them not to but coached them through pacing themselves.  I had a bag of M&M's in my pocket to hand out for extra energy to the kids.  Really they were as much for a mental boost as they were for a physical boost.

Riley spotted an older kid further up on the course and wanted to try to catch him.  So we slowly gained on him and the last 500 m Riley sprinted and had this epic and very cute sprint finish.  The older kid beat him but Riley handled it well and said, "now that gives me something to try for next year."  They gave each other high fives after and congratulated each other for the good effort, like old seasoned athletes would.  Very cute.  A few minutes later Kyla came sprinting in giving it everything she had with this huge smile on her face.  Such a proud mommy moment to see my kids enjoy racing and do so well at it.

Finish times:

Riley (9 years old): 28.5 min

Kyla (7 years old): 31 min

Riley explained to me after the race, "I have two super powers mom.  First, I can choose my emotions, so if I feel tired or something then I can just choose not to feel it.  Second, if my body starts getting tired, my legs don't even listen, they just keep on going."

I love having experiences with my kids that help them develop their confidence to do hard things... and come to know their superpowers.  Participating in sport have helped me understand how much inner strength and discipline I have.  This character development and awareness have helped me in every aspect of my life.  That is why for me, sport is a powerful tool in my hopes of raising my kids to be resilient, confident and disciplined individuals.   

Our Little Chiquita

Happy month of Cinco de Mayo!

Our little baby Ivy is not such a little baby anymore.  She seems more like a toddler.  I know some people feel sad about this transition but I personally love it.  It's so cute to see her learn to crawl, then to walk, soon to run.  She'd almost done teething, sleeps great and is a spunky, fun little girl.  At 14 months old, she's a bit of a late walker and yesterday I realized that it could be because she spends a good chunk of her day in a stroller while I go for my mornings runs and then again in the evening while we go for family walks.  Well, at least she'll have a good appreciation for nature.

Yep, I'm still running everyday.  Nope, I'm not training for anything.  Someday I'll do it again.

I don't have any recent running pictures but here's one from a weekend run with Adam and Ivy back in the snowy days.  Fish Creek really is quite pretty, even in the winter.

This past weekend we took the kids on a bike ride down in fish creek park.  We have a little seat on the back of my bike for Ivy, Kyla is on the tandem with Adam and Riley rides on his own.  We did a 13 km loop and I was proud of Riley for that.  We passed some triathletes who were training and Adam commented how he felt jealous.  I on the other hand felt like I've been there, done that, don't feel like doing it again anytime soon.  I do have some ideas simmering away in my bucket list though.  I'd love to do a 5 km race with both older kids this summer.  Then, as they get a bit older I'd love to do a family long distance relay race.  I think that would such a bonding, fun experience.

I'll sign off with this fantastic quote I read today from Pulitzer-Prize winning writer Anna Quindlen:

"If your success is not on your own terms, if it looks good to the world but does not feel good in your soul, it is not success at all."

Myth: I Can't Love What I've Got

I used to be a little bit anti-Oprah.  Nothing against her personally, I just tend to be antagonistic towards mainstream things and people sometimes.  But for Christmas this past year, Adam gave me this book, "Things I Know For Sure."  Such a little gem of a book with pearls of wisdom woven through her personal experiences.  I'm now a fan of this woman.  Sorry it took me awhile to come around Oprah.

I love her thoughts on body image in the book and decided to include some of them in a myth for my blog.  Hope you don't mind Oprah.

The amount of time and energy I've spent thinking about my next meal will be incalculable: what to eat, what I just ate, how many calories or grams of fat it contains, how much exercise I'll need to burn it off, what if I don't work out, how long will it take to manifest as extra pounds, and on and on.  Food has been on my mind a lot over the years.

I still have the cheque I wrote to my first diet doctor - Baltimore, 1977.  I was 23 years old, 148 lbs, a size 8 and I thought I was fat.  The doctor put me on a 1,200 calorie regimen, and in less than two weeks I had lost 10 lbs.  Two months later I had regained 12.  Thus began the cycle of discontent, the struggle with my body.  With myself.

I joined the diet brigade - signing on for the Beverly Hills, Atkins, Scarsdale, Cabbage Soup, and even the Banana, Hot Dog, and Egg Diets.  (You think I'm kidding.  I wish.)  What I didn't know is that with each diet I was starving my muscles, slowing my metabolism, and setting myself to gain even more weight.  Around 1995, after almost two decades of yo-yoing, I finally realized that being grateful for my body, whatever shape it was in, was the key to giving more love to myself.

But although I made that connection intellectually, living it was a different story.  It wasn't until about 6 years later, after six months of unexplained heart palpitations, that I finally got it.  On December 19, 2001 I wrote in my journal: "One thing is for sure - having palpitations at night makes me more aware of being happy to awaken in the morning, more grateful for each day."  I stopped taking my heart for granted and began thanking it for every heart beat it had ever given me.  I marveled at the wonder of it.  In 47 years, I'd never consciously given a thought to what my heart does.  Feeding oxygen to my lungs, liver, pancreas, even my brain, one beat at a time.

For so many years I had let my heart down by not giving it the support it needed.  Overeating.  Overstressing.  Overdoing.  No wonder when I lay down at night it couldn't stop racing.  I believe that everything that happens in our lives has a meaning.  That experience brings a messing if you're willing to hear it.  So what was my speeding heart trying to tell me?  I still don't know the answer.  Yet simply asking the question cause my to look at my body and how I failed to honor it.  How every diet I had ever been on was because I wanted to fit into something or just fit in.  Taking care of my heart, the life force of my body, had never been my priority.

I sat up in bed one crisp, sunny morning and made a vow to love my heart.  To treat it with respect.  To feed and nurture it.  To work it out and then let it rest.  And then one night, I was getting out of the tub, I glanced in the full length mirror.  For the first time, I didn't launch into self criticism.  I actually felt a warming sense of gratitude for what I saw.  My hair braided, not a stitch of make up on, face clean.  Eyes bright, alive.  Shoulders and neck strong and firm.  I was thankful for the body I lived in.

I did a head to toe assessment and though there was plenty of room for improvement, I no longer hated any part of myself.  Even the cellulite.  I thought, "This is the body you've been given.  Love what you've got."  So I started truly loving the face I was born in; the lines under my eyes at age 2 have gotten deeper, but they're my lines.  The broad nose I tried to lift when I was 8 by sleeping with a close pin and two cotton balls on the sides, is the nose I've grown into.  The full lips I used to pull in when smiling are the lips I use to speak to millions of people everyday - my lips need to be full.

In that moment, as I stood before the mirror, I had my own "spiritual transformation/a root revival of love," which Carolyn M Rodgers writes of in one of my favorite poems, "Some Me of Beauty."
What I know for sure: There is no need to struggle with your body when you can make a loving and grateful peace with it.