A little golf and #800!

Over the weekend, Jacob and I spent some time with my parents while Craig was up in Hamilton.  We won't see my parents for Father's Day weekend (their fault, not mine!) so it was nice to get a little time with them while we could.  Saturday was a pretty good day, despite some unexpectedly questionable weather.  It was supposed to be a gorgeous day after some morning rain, but much of the day turned out to be a dud.  We got some outside time in in the morning--Jacob played sports with my mom and I took a quick run, which was great.  After nap, the weather was cool but the rain had stopped, so we headed off to the golf course so Jacob could get some practice in on the putting green. 

Look at the big boy carrying his own clubs!

I don't know what it is about this picture, but something about Jacob's face is totally reminding me of something genetic--but I can't really tell if it's me, specifically, or throwbacks to my parents' younger days, or what.  Genes are so weird.

Jacob was having a little trouble taking direction this time, but when he decided to listen, the results were pretty good!  Here he is taking a shot just off the green, using his driver...

You can see the ball just off to the right, about halfway up...not bad for a not-even-four-year-old!

Back on the putting green, Jacob's antics were cracking us up.  All over the green there were little piles of dirt, smaller than a dime.  According to my mom, it's where the worms pop up out of the ground.  Here's Jacob studying one a little more closely...

Getting a closer look...

And the best part--most of the time when he made a putt, he did this:

The kid already knows how to salute the crowd...even if he doesn't know that that's what he's actually doing.

That kid is something else.

So, in other news, this is post #800!  It's hard to believe, but that's quite an amazing feat, I think.  When I started doing this, I did it because I thought it would be great for out-of-town family and friends to follow my pregnancy.  I hoped to continue it once Jacob was born, but even back then when I wasn't that into the blogosphere, I was well-aware that the best of intentions for blogs and websites often aren't enough to keep things going.  I've seen a lot of blogs get started and then trail off when people get bored of it or too busy, and I just didn't want to be one of those people.  Turns out I shouldn't have worried.  Even if I stopped blogging tomorrow--which I won't do because things are hopefully just about to get good again (fingers crossed)--I've put in a good 4-1/2 years of this, enough to give Jacob some reading material years down the road.  I've covered the first four years of his life and his time in utero.  I just hope I can do the same for another baby one of these days. 

What I do here isn't exceptional--mommy bloggers are a dime a dozen and many of them are far more eloquent than I--but I am proud of what I've done here.  I treasure the fact that I have a chronicle of this life-changing period of time.  It's part diary, part baby book, part therapy.  It's been quite a ride over these last 800 posts, and I can't even fathom how things might change in the next 800.  Only time will tell...

Epic Battle

If you're a parent, you've probably heard the advice, "Choose your battles wisely," more times than you can count.  And sure, it's good advice.  You don't want to battle your kid on little stuff when there are bigger (and far more important) fish to fry.  However, when the time comes it's sometimes pretty hard to distinguish between little stuff and seemingly little stuff with bigger implications.  It may not seem like a big deal if your kid wrestles out of your grasp in a store, but if you don't make an issue of it there will it come back to haunt you in the parking lot?  If you don't stop your toddler from still-age-appropriate food-throwing, will they have evidence to think it's OK when they're older?  Long story short, there's a gray area there where it may not seem like a big deal at the time, but over time, the implications aren't good.  So where and when do you actually draw the line?

Two years ago we bought a house with a pool.  I never wanted a pool...ever.  In fact, there were times I filtered my real estate search results to houses with no pools, and during our most recent hunt two years ago, I loosened that to no in-ground pools, just because they're harder to take out.  At least if we found the perfect house with an above ground pool, all it would take is some time, a Craigslist posting, and some grass seed to get rid of it if need be.  Well...we found the perfect house....and it had an above ground pool.  Ugh.  We've spent the last two summers battling it--from a stubborn algae problem one summer to constant debris on the bottom last year, from sprung leaks and stolen covers to opening and closing issues--and it's been a tough ride.  But on those days when it's 90 degrees out and the pool is a perfect retreat after yard work, or when I take a quick dip on a quiet evening after my workout, it's absolute bliss.  Those few moments are not necessarily good enough reasons to keep the pool and spend what we spend to keep it running.  However, I'm hesitant to take it down because I worry that one day in about five years, Jacob will be like, "We had a pool and you got rid of it?!"  Because what all-American kid wouldn't want to spend every waking moment during the summer swimming?  Well...ours, apparently. 

Right now Jacob would probably be thrilled if we took down the pool and turned our backyard into a tiny Field of Dreams.  Put second base where the pool filter sits now and we'd have a happy kid.  Of course, if the pool keeps pulling stunts like it did overnight (filter was on when some tubing split, sending six inches of pool water spraying into our backyard), it might not be there for long anyway.  But regardless...suffice it to say that Jacob has no use for our pool.  In fact, last summer I don't think he went in it at all.  He's been in pools here and there since he was born, and while he wasn't particularly adventurous, he always seemed to like it.  Once he got too big for the little inflatable baby boats but not quite skilled enough to keep his head up with just floaties on, I honestly wasn't quite sure what to do with him.  So, last summer, when he was more interested in playing sports than getting in the pool, I decided the battle to get him into his suit just wasn't worth it and let it go.  Now, for many reasons, I'm kicking myself.

Craig's parents have a pool, too--a nice, warm, heated pool--and Jacob's cousins spend a LOT of time in it.  They're absolute fish!  His cousin that just turned six doesn't need any floatation devices anymore, and even the almost-five-year-old is fearless, jumping in and playing around with a life vest on.  And then there's Jacob.  Jacob is absolutely petrified of the water.  Now that we own a pool I'm kicking myself that we never did the Water Babies swim class when he was a baby, and I'm not even sure I know where to begin on teaching him to swim.  Why?  Well, because he will not willingly go in the water.

We'd been telling him for a while that he needed to start learning to go into the pool, and yesterday we were determined to make it happen, if only to get him in, show him it was fine, and be done.  It took a good TWO HOURS of arguing and physically forcing him into his suit and into the water.  He was so tired from the first round of fighting us that he fell asleep in the middle of the battle!  The second he woke up and realized he was in his swim trunks (that we put on him after he fell asleep, since he fell asleep buck naked!), he immediately started whining and insisted again that he wasn't going in.  Oh, and in the midst of this, Craig and I were having a battle of our own about how far to push things and possible punishments for him if he didn't go in.  It got that bad.

Now, here's the thing.  Why should he have to go in the pool?  Obviously this was getting to be borderline traumatizing for him.  He had a fear--an irrational, unfounded one, as he's never had a memorably bad pool experience--and it was obvious it was bothering him.  Perhaps it wasn't wise to push the issue.  BUT...there were two things nagging at me telling me we had to do this.  First, if he has a tantrum this big and eventually gets his way, he'll only learn that tantrums work.  Second, he's not going to be able to go through life without having to confront the pool issue.  Particularly since there's one in his backyard, and his grandparents have one that his cousins spend a ton of time in.  As he grows up, he'll have friends that know he has a pool and will want to come over and expect to swim.  He will be invited to pool parties.  He will probably have to swim in gym class.  And in the event that he's ever around any body of water, we want him to be able to swim, just in case.  He can't avoid it forever, and it seemed to me that if we let him off the hook this time, it would continue to be a worry, the worry would build, and the next time we pushed it, it would be even worse.  We just wanted to get him in, let him see he was fine, and hopefully build on that for next time.

After his impromptu nap, I continued to talk to him as calmly as possible, explaining to him that I would hold on to him the whole time, that he wouldn't get splashed, and that he'd be fine.  Somehow I got sunscreen on him, and then had to drag him outside, kicking and screaming the whole way.  He continued right up until we were in the water, at which point he realized it was funny to splash his hands in the water and then eased up a bit.  He still wouldn't let go of me for anything, which was fine with me because I didn't mind the bonus hugs.  By the end I did manage to get him on his belly and kicking a bit, so hopefully he's up for more of that once we get our pool back up and running. 

I made sure to praise him a lot for his bravery, and I'm hoping the experience at least got him past his initial fear.  I don't know if that will translate to him actually wanting to go into the pool (he's insisting he'll just go in that pool, not ours), but at least now he's got evidence that we're not going to let him off the hook easily when he doesn't want to go in.  I'm planning to get him a highly rated flotation device, a cool new bathing suit, and a pool basketball hoop, so hopefully those things will help. 
To be fair, I wasn't much of a water person back when I was a kid, and I'm still not a fan of getting water in my face unexpectedly.  I spent much of my childhood sitting on the ladder of my grandma's pool, and only got more comfortable in the water when our neighbors had a pool (a COLD pool) and I spent a lot of time there.  I can go under okay but I still have to plug my nose and can't open my eyes.  So I know where he's coming from, and he apparently comes by it honestly.  But I'm not asking him to be a scuba diver.  I just want him to be able to swim safely and have fun with other people when the opportunity arises.

Not gonna lie, though...it was a pretty horrible experience to get him in there.  After it was all over, there was a pretty good sense of satisfaction on both sides. I'm just praying we don't have to do that again.  But if I do, I will.  There's no turning back now.

You know it's time for another baby when...

...you miss having a good angle from which to wipe a little butt.

...you yearn for a child that will not talk back, yell, or ask a million questions in response to everything you say to them.

...you miss having a child that stays in one place for more than five seconds at a time.

...you miss being snuggled and having the power to rock your child to sleep when it's convenient.

...the mere sight of a cute baby instantly makes you forget about sleep deprivation and labor pains.

...every newborn photo session you see on Facebook makes you want to take notes, hoard possible props, and figure out your camera's best settings so you can save money and just do it yourself.  Ha!

...you start feeling guilty or anxious about the bins of clothes taking up space in the basement (or in my case, the crawl space.  There's room for them, but there's just SO many.).

...you're getting bored with your workouts and need a change (and/or an excuse to do less).  Just think of all the goals you can set for yourself once you can go all out again!

...you miss your maternity clothes.

...your kid is definitely acting like an only child.

...you're hesitant to unsubscribe from all of the baby store emails you get, because you dread the thought of resubscribing all over again in a few months.

...your "baby" has stopped calling you "Mommy" and "Daddy" and has moved on to "Mom" and "Dad" much of the time.  Seriously, you're not even four and you're that grown up?

...you figure that if you're going to go through pregnancy, sleep deprivation, energetic toddlerhood, and all of the other stresses you've been through in the last few years again, you really should get them out of the way now, because you're just not getting any younger.

...you freak out about all of the hard parts of new babies that you're not thinking about and the crippling fear of having to manage a challenging, energetic child and a newborn baby...and decide you still want to do it anyway.  What's more, you're willing to resort to decidedly unsexy measures to try to make it happen. 

So, judging by this criteria, I guess it's time for another baby.  Some stuff is happening this week in our quest, so needless to say I am hoping to take extra good care of myself and hope my body does what it's supposed to do, with a little help from the medical community.  There are a lot of things that could go wrong--or less than ideal--so I'm trying to remain cautiously optimistic.  We have up to six  tries with this method before things get a little more desperate.  Let's hope it doesn't take that long.  On the bright side, if we do need a few tries, maybe all the waiting will make summer feel a little longer than usual!  Always looking for the bright side...

Reality Check

Yesterday I had to set up a follow-up appointment with the doctor I saw on Monday.  They told me a pharmacy would be contacting me to set up delivery of hCG, a hormone that's part of the process we're going through.  We didn't really go over the exact details of how this whole thing would be progressing, so I had to call the doctor today to make sure I was clear on the schedule, how the hCG would be administered (thank goodness I don't have to give myself a shot!), and all those other little (BIG) details.  But the mere fact I was on the phone talking with someone about having hCG shipped to my house really made me stop for a second and be like, "Wow, this is really happening."  I'm not sure if it's more the baby-making thing or the fertility thing or something else, but yeah, let's just say I'm feeling a little crazy when I think about the next few weeks. 

In addition to this fertility stuff, Jacob turns four in two weeks!  I can hardly believe it.  Perhaps it's just all this baby talk lately that makes it really hit home that he's such a big boy and we're so far removed from that day four years ago.  Of course, we wanted to be able to revisit that newborn experience sooner than this, and quite frankly, the life I envisioned us living by the time Jacob turned four is probably pretty far off from what it is now.  I'm not sure I really knew what to expect, but I guess I figured I'd be an old pro at this parenting thing, with another baby in tow or at least another well on the way.  Now I can't help but wonder if I'll ever figure this parenting thing out, and the new baby timeline isn't really something I even want to guess on right now.  There have been other changes, like minor adjustments to Craig's job and our house move, but for whatever reason I think I expected more of myself as a mom of a preschooler.  More what, I have no idea.  Maybe I was hoping, for example, to not be an anxiety-ridden mess at the thought of creating another birthday cake for Jacob.  Party planning is not my forte, even though I really want to do it well.  And after the cake debacle last year, I am absolutely panicked at the thought of messing up again.  Maybe I should just try to go way simple, but geez...I'd like to do something cool.  As a preview, Jacob is expecting a soccer cake.  He may change Halloween costumes on a daily basis, but that soccer cake has stuck like glue for the past couple months.

Oh, and if the upcoming birthday wasn't enough, I walked into daycare yesterday to the news that Jacob is moving up to the four year old room as of next Monday.  I knew it was coming, but I guess the move comes a couple weeks earlier than anticipated and it's throwing me off a bit.  Jacob says that one of his best buddies is coming with him (and there are a couple other friends who moved up within the last few months), but his equally soccer-crazed friend is probably going to be left in the other room for a bit, so I'm a little cautious about that transition.  He's also very close to his teachers.  They're young and fun, and he's pronounced himself married to both of them during his time in that room.  So, while he knows the teachers he's going to have and seems to like them, their personalities are quite different so I think it's going to be a very different feel for him in the new room.  Plus he'll actually have to focus a little more on big boy skills like writing his name.  I have asked him a few times if we could work on that, but he refuses.  I want to enhance his learning at home, but I can't really do it if he won't cooperate, and I don't want to push so hard it turns him off to it completely.  Hmmm. 

Normally he gets very good reviews from daycare regarding his behavior and intelligence, but we only see glimpses because he's too busy being a smart-talking, non-listening, sports-playing child when he's home.  Today, however, his SHIRT got taken away because he was being so naughty.  I have no idea why his Captain America shirt became the disciplinary tool, but it was.  Apparently he wasn't listening, but we can't quite get out of him what he wasn't listening to, or why.  So, yeah, he had to wear one of the daycare shirts for part of the day.  Weird.  But I don't doubt he was being a pain-in-the-neck, because we see that side far too often.  Not sure which room he was in when that happened (he has been spending time in the four year old room), but he's either going out or coming in with a bang, I guess. 

Anyway...party planning, baby-making, and daycare changes would be enough, but then we get to add in a couple of things this weekend, then Father's Day, our niece & nephew's birthday, and a couple roadtrips for Craig, and it's a really busy month ahead.  I'm getting tired just thinking about it...

The Perks of Having a Dad in Sports

Jacob is a very lucky little boy.  He was born into a family with prime access to the sports world.  At one time both of his parents worked in professional sports, and now, at almost age 4, his daddy has won three championships--two with the Knighthawks and one with the Rattlers (who, ironically, play against the team he works for now in the same league).  With parents like that, he lives in a house full of sports memorabilia, has a TV that's often tuned to sports, and gets to go to far more real games than most kids his age.  A while back I ran into a friend from college who I knew was a sports fan.  He said he hasn't really taken his son to games because most of them happen right at his bedtime.  Jacob's bedtime is a little later than most kids, I'd guess (9pm right now--I'm sure it will have to get earlier once he hits real school)--but sports has always been a part of his life and going to games together has been a fun outing for all of us.  In fact, I can't imagine his life so far without them.  No doubt the heavy sports influence he had has shaped the sports nut he is today.  I guess over the years we've all adjusted to the fallout from all those late nights--some cranky weekends, I guess--and deemed it worth the effort.  Winning a championship once again reminds us why Craig loves working in the business as much as he does, despite the many drawbacks, and this past Saturday was yet another reminder of the perks of a life like this.

Craig had to take the Cup out to a local Tim Hortons location that the team president frequents.  There were going to be a couple of the dance team members there, along with the mascot, and the Town of Chili (pronounced Chi-lie for all non-Rochestarians out there--long I's like "eye") Fire Department made an appearance as well.  It ended up being a pretty low-key event, but we managed to have a good time nonetheless. 

First thing we did was head out to the fire truck.  Jacob was super-excited at the prospect of getting up in the truck, and was all smiles the whole time he was in there:

Little boy, BIG truck

The firefighters thought the trophy was pretty cool, and this just looked like a nice photo op...sort of like the truck and the cup are becoming friends :)

Back inside, Jacob got to hang out with his favorite mascot, R. Thunder.  He has been obsessed with this bird since he was a tiny little boy.  He still loves him and lights up when he sees him.  He gives him hugs and just wants to hang out with him no matter how many other people are around.  Once at an appearance he led him around by the hand the whole time.  It's hilarious, though I feel bad for the mascot because Jacob is totally fixated on him.  Jacob actually wanted his picture taken with him, which never happens any other time. 

He proceeded to sit next to him and talk his ear off pretty much the whole time we were there.  Jacob does realize that he's just a mascot, though, as we had a pretty humorous conversation while we were there about it.  Craig was trying to convince him that he's a real bird, and Jacob knew that the head was a mask.  Smart kid.  It was also quite funny watching the bird try to drink his iced cappuccino...both "fake" drinking through his beak, and also awkwardly sticking the straw up the neck to his real mouth.  Classic.

Before we left, Craig noticed a sign hanging up and decided it would make for a great photo op:

After those few hours, Craig joked that he was done for the day--fire truck, time with the mascot, some free ice cream--quite a full day for the little man!  It's not every day a three-year-old kid gets to hang out with a fire truck, championship trophy, two attractive girls, and one furry friend.  Quite the life our lucky little boy leads, isn't it? 

So....huh. That's why...

This morning I had my appointment with the fertility doctor.  I feel a little funny even saying that, because comparing my "infertility" to the hell that some women have had to go through seems downright laughable.  After all, I have a baby already.  I have periods and no obvious symptoms of greater issues like cysts or endometriosis.  My cycle was nearly perfect for years, but appears to have gotten confused after life with the pill, because anytime I've been off it--including prior to getting pregnant with Jacob--it's been wonky.  But there are worse things in life than a crazy cycle...until you're trying to have a baby and can't seem to track it for anything. 

Case in point--I neglected to mention in the midst of the Knighthawks' championship celebrations that earlier on championship day I had what I believe was my first-ever positive ovulation test.  Over the past many months, I'd done a lot of them.  Not religiously, mind you, but quite a few.  And during the times I wasn't strict, we were taking action just in case :)  Obviously nothing happened, and there were multiple times (including one involving a blood test from my doctor) where it just seemed like I simply wasn't ovulating.  Which is pretty problematic when you need an egg to make a baby.  Anyway, I had an idea of where my cycle was that morning, and while it didn't really matter because a) I wasn't sure we'd have time to do anything about it; and b) I didn't really want to start trying yet anyway, I figured it would be good to know going into my appointment where things stood.  Sure enough, it turned out positive.  I was shocked.  I was happy to know it was possible, but more surprised than anything.  However, my period showed up only a week later, which still indicates that something isn't right. 

So, off to the doctor I went this morning.  I wasn't quite sure what to expect, or even what to ask.  I guess I was just looking for some sort of direction--a better way to track my cycles, what the causes might be, what my options are--so I'm not just sitting around waiting for something to happen.  The doctor was actually pretty great.  She took the time to listen to my history, explain what's probably happening, and offer a solution.  She was pretty straight to the point, but still friendly.  And then she suggested doing an ultrasound right then and there to get an idea of what might be happening.  Wow.  Ok.  Not every day someone asks you on a moment's notice to step into this room and take off your pants.  Alrighty then.

On a side note, I was actually interested to experience a transvaginal ultrasound (sorry squeamish folks, no happy little code word for this one).  You may have heard that recently a law passed in Texas making it mandatory to get a transvaginal ultrasound prior to getting an abortion.  Critics of the law were likening it to rape.  I get the spirit of the law, that perhaps the woman should see what she's aborting.  It's amazing to see even a tiny baby moving around on that screen, but I'm with the critics that it doesn't need to be so invasive.  A regular old ultrasound like the rest of the pregnant women in the world receive is just fine.  So, anyway, I was interested to see how it was.  It was really fine.  Not painful, just a slight discomfort.  And hey, it's really interesting to see your uterus and ovaries from the inside.

Much to my surprise, my ovaries show some evidence of polycystic ovary syndrome.  It basically means that egg follicles start to form, but crap out somewhere before they're released.  They gather along the edges of the ovary, and show up as little black circles on the ultrasound.  Usually this leads to ovary enlargement, but that hasn't happened yet in my case. 

Anyway, that was a little discouraging to hear, but nothing that can't be overcome.  The doctor had a plan of attack ready to go--and I mean READY.  As in, starting today.  When she said something about no sense waiting around, she meant it.  Ultrasound--done.  Start of the plan--now.  I still had a few hours after the appointment before needing to put the wheels in motion, and I certainly had some food for thought today. 

Is it odd to say that setting things into motion today all felt a little sudden despite already logging nearly 11 months of trying for another baby?  Well, odd or not, it was.  While I had envisioned getting "lazy" over the next couple months, I guess I didn't assume we'd have much of shot at making anything happen so soon.  And suddenly I'm panicking a bit about all the stuff I should be doing before I'm pregnant.  We still need new carpet in two bedrooms and still need to figure out how to rearrange things for Jacob's future room.  I'm suddenly overwhelmed by the thought of the things I need to give up if pregnant--cold cuts, allergy meds, running, that bottle of wine I should really drink now.  I'm thinking about how the possible two-month schedule shift might impact things--Craig's schedule, my maternity clothes, our Florida vacation, the seasonality of the hand-me-down baby clothes, changeable weather, etc.  I'm just trying to take last-minute stock of everything and make sure that jumping into this a little early isn't screwing up anything major.  Long story short, I'm admittedly surprised at how caught off-guard I am.  You'd think after all this time I'd be more than ready.  Maybe all of this just tells me that the "you're never really ready" statement isn't just a first-baby phenomenon. 

I read back in the blog earlier and relived the early weeks of June before Jacob was born.  Given my June 30th due date, I never could have imagined that less than three weeks into the month we'd have  a baby.  Similarly, I can't quite wrap my brain around the fact that a year from now we might have an infant.  Reading those posts got me a little excited, though.  I remember parts of that time so vividly.  The fear, anticipation, the horrific heat, the random details I had to take care of...it was just so much to handle, and part of me can't quite imagine how I'll do all of that again, but with a little boy preoccupying a good portion of my time.  But the end result is so amazing that it's hard to not get excited. 

I won't go into the details of the "plan" yet (I need to have some secrets, right?), but it's pretty much what I expected with a couple safeguards that I didn't anticipate.  We've got a handful of months to give this a shot, and if things don't progress, we'll try something else.  I'm not going to worry about those steps or further costs yet...one step at a time.  But at least now I know why things haven't been working, and I'm happy to have a path to start down.  We'll see how it goes.  Let's hope this is the beginning of a fantastic journey...

Part of the Story

A few weeks ago, a repainting project was started at the old theater I pass on my way to work.  They were stripping paint off all of the window frames and doors on the outside of the building to remove the lead paint, and then repainting all of them.  About halfway through the project, they painted everything with this horrible shade of light gray.  I was hoping it was just primer, but the longer it stayed there, the more nervous I got, because it looked terrible.  At long last I noticed them painting part of it with a light beige, and then the other day the doors had finally been painted a nice cranberry color like they used to be, with a two-color effect on the trim. 

What's the moral of this story?  Well, I guess I just don't know why I was worrying about that darn gray color, because I should have known without a doubt that that color was definitely an interim step, not a finished product.  But for a few days, it bugged me anyway.  And now, in the end, everything looks beautiful and turned out just as it should have.  I should never assume that I know where anything is going, because inevitably there's a bigger picture I'm just not seeing.

I've learned that lesson a lot in the past few weeks.  I've come to understand that there's more to each moment than meets the eye, that there's more to the story than what I see in my current situation.  Each moment we live is a building block for a greater story, and far be it from me to assume the story's ending in the middle of it all.  And shame on me for assuming a moment is the end, when it may just be the beginning.  Thinking of things from this angle gives a whole new perspective to the challenges we face.

The most vivid example of this was the Knighthawks championship game.  At the end of the first half, the Knighthawks were down 5-1 and seemed to have absolutely no momentum on their side.  It seemed like it was the end of the road.  The thought crossed my mind, however, that if they could come back, it would be a heck of a story.  Instead of being a final chapter in a sad tale, that painful first half would be just another incredible circumstance in an improbable championship run.  Sure enough, it happened.  I'm not sure that win would have been quite as sweet or as memorable without the second half comeback.  In the end, it was just another twist and turn in a great story, but in the moment it seemed like a terrible hand to be dealt.

For the past few months I've been training myself to run in the Chase Corporate Challenge, which took place last night.  The race is 3.5 miles, a bit longer than a 5K, and quite a bit further than I generally run on my own.  I'd run in it two of the last three years, and always working to improve my time.  The first time I ran it I had never run much for distance before but figured I'd give it a try and see how it went.  Sure enough, despite hardcore rain, I ran the whole thing.  Slowly, perhaps, but I ran it nonetheless.  I wasn't able to register in time the next year, which was just as well as it was another stormy day.  I ran the same distance on the treadmill at the gym, though, and improved on my time just a bit.  Last year I had been running more consistently and I was aiming for a 10-minute mile pace.  I had a running buddy from the gym to help pace me, and ended up running a bit over a 9.5-minute mile pace, which was awesome. 

This year I'd been taking running a lot more seriously, and over the past few months I've been religiously running twice a week at least, always aiming for a high intensity run to increase my speed.  I was trying to run intervals and run at faster speeds for longer periods of time, if only to trick my body into getting used to that higher speed for when I no longer had a treadmill to pace me.  I was doing well, even running the 3.5 miles within the 30-minute goal I set for myself (about 3:30 quicker than last year) multiple times.  I was still unsure if I could do it outside without the treadmill to push me, and weather conditions are always a wildcard, but it was nice to know I could do it. 

But over the last two weeks, it all fell apart.  No matter what I did, I couldn't do what I had been doing.  I'd have to stop and walk after a couple miles, or slow down so much that my pace was no better than last year.  I wondered if it was our big night out after the Knighthawks championship that tired my body out, or if hormones were messing with me.  I just felt tired.  I gained a couple pounds over Memorial Day weekend, and by then I was sure that I was going to crap out in the middle of the race like I had done in recent workouts.  On the bright side, I'd been praying for a cool but pleasant day for weeks, and sure enough, God delivered.  It was a gloriously sunny evening in the low 60s, perfect running weather.  I fueled myself up before the race and hoped adrenaline would do the rest.  And you know what?  I hit my goal.  I didn't quite do it under 30 minutes like I wanted to.  I ended up at 30:11.  However, I was held up quite a bit by the crowd at the start of the race and couldn't get to the pace I wanted until after the first mile.  That one took about 9:15, and I was aiming for 8:30.  However, I must have killed the last mile and a half in particular, because I made up most of the lost time there.  Were it not for the traffic, I would have certainly been under 30 minutes.  And what's better?  I felt really good doing it.  I didn't get tired until after the 2-mile mark, and I didn't have any sort of pain in the middle of it like I did last year.  I was exhausted by the end, yes, but my recovery was far quicker and I feel more or less normal today which is a far cry from past runs.  It's great to see how far I've come, and the challenge I faced in the past couple weeks made my success that much sweeter. 

When it comes to applying this philosophy to current, unresolved things in my life, I especially hope it applies to three things: Jacob's behavior, my anosmia, and our quest for baby #2.  I obviously hope all of the work we put in to being consistent with Jacob, to having structure, to trying to teach him how to be a good boy, all turn out in the end and give us a sweet, loving, well-adjusted son for years to come.  My anosmia (lack of smell) is still a very difficult, very frustrating part of my life.  One of these days I'll do a post about the good and bad of having no sense of smell as a parent, but suffice it to say it feels like part of the puzzle is missing when I can't smell or taste anything.  I keep hoping that someday we'll figure out how to fix it, and at that point, I will certainly have a new appreciation for how things taste and smell!  And, of course, the wait we're enduring while trying for another baby has been a challenge.  In all three cases, I hope that the difficulties we've gone through are just a part of the journey, another chapter of our story.  Right now in the midst of them, it feels like the challenges will never end.  Hopefully someday they will be the battle scars that make us appreciate the good we have and how far we've come.  I'm hoping they're just a learning experience we have to endure for a greater purpose.

It's not always easy in the middle of a story to trust that there will be a happy ending...and maybe there won't always be one.  But remembering it is the middle and the possibilities are endless is something that should get us through the tough times.  God's got this one...one way or another.