remembering my mom.

Mother’s Day. A day I remember as a child cutting and gluing together that precious construction paper card to surprise my mom with in the morning. A day were memories flood back of all the dinners out after church, the celebration of sacrifice made for my brother and I, and overall the joy of having a loving, caring, supportive mother. There were even some years where Mother’s Day would fall on her birthday. Double duty for making those construction paper cards.

This will be my second Mother’s Day without my mom. It of course brings back countless memories and moments we shared together. Even the ones that were not so glamorous.

She would always tell stories about how stubborn I was as a child [who says I’ve changed?]. There was one particular story that she would always tell about her and I getting into a power struggle in the aisles of K-Mart over some pink Barbie shoes. The story has it that she won by dragging me out of the store kicking and screaming. Me? Never.

Throughout my childhood and into high school, I would always get so embarrassed when she would talk to the store clerk, or the gas station attendant for 10 minutes about their lives. Mind you, she didn’t know these people. I remember when we went shopping for  decorations for my wedding, she gave the women at Hobby Lobby the 15 minute run down of the day. She never had a lack of words. Ever.

One of the things I cherish the most about my mother was her ability to make life events special. You better believe when holidays, birthdays, graduations, and bridal showers came around, everyone knew and it was going to be a memorable celebration. I had countless purple and pig themed birthday parties, Christmas Eve and Christmas morning were set with traditions, Easter baskets were always hidden on Easter morning, there was a handmade purple clown costume waiting for me for the school Halloween parade. You get the picture. She went out of her way to make sure we were celebrated and that memories and traditions were created.

She raised us in the faith. Summer after summer we would attend Simpson Park Family Camp for a week. These grounds were where I started my faith journey. Where she started her faith journey. Where my grandfather received his call to ministry. Where my grandmother played as a child. Where Chris and I got married. I am forever thankful for her relentless effort to raise us in the church and allowing us to grow to know the Lord.

I have a lot of my mom in me. I’m passionate about helping people like she was. I am stubborn like she was. I’m not afraid to strike up a conversation with a complete stranger. Whenever I am fortunate enough to be called “mom” my prayer is that I can raise a family in similar manner she did. Supporting my children through their trials and triumphs, celebrating them for who they are, sacrificing my own needs for theirs and learning from her mistakes.

As I am missing my mom this Mother’s day, I am jealous of her too as she is basking in the glory of our Heavenly Father. Hug your mom today and make sure you tell her how much you love her.

we finished!

If my rough calculations are accurate, since November I have run about 200 miles and have spent 32 hours on the treadmill, road or bike path . In January Chris and I decided to train for and run our first half marathon. We printed off our Hal Higdon training schedule and hit the road running (no pun intended).

I know that many people run half marathons like it is no big deal. But for this athletic wannabe, it was a challenge I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to complete. When I was a freshman in high school, I thought it would be a good idea to join the Cross Country team. My first race (a 5K) proved to me that my body was not meant for running. I finished second…to last. That memory is still engrained in my mind. My greatest running fear you ask? Reliving that exact moment. You’d think after completing several 5K’s, an 8K, a 15K, and a 10 mile race and never finishing last I would have overcome that fear by now.

But today…I am proud to say that both Chris and I started, ran and completed the Southwest Half Marathon in Palos Heights, IL. And neither of us finished second to last! Goal accomplished!

Here are some highlights of the race:

• Having some awesome friends come out and support us. Thanks to Troy who rode his bike throughout the route to cheer us on and thanks to Kelly and Megan who were at the finish line to celebrate our accomplishment.
• Finishing. My past few long training runs didn’t go so well for me. I wasn’t sure what today would hold, so my goal was to finish.  If I was able to run a 10 minute mile, then great. Well, I did both! Chris on the other hand…blew me out of the water! His average pace was an 8:44 minute mile. His secret to success you ask? Eating Chocolate Chex for breakfast. haha!  Way to go! 🙂
• Seeing a husband push his wife in a wheelchair the entire race. The route we ran was 6.5 miles down one side of the road and another 6.5 miles back. It was neat because you saw all the runners at one point or another. There was this particular man who was in the top 20ish runners who was pushing his visibly ill wife. I literally started crying as I watched such this precious, love filled, gesture that I am sure wasn’t easy for either.
• Using a grandpa as my pacer. Literally, there was this 70 year old grandpa who I ran the entire race with. I’d like to think that I’ll be running half marathons at age 70. But considering how my knees feel right now, I don’t think that will happen.
• Accomplishing something that I never thought possible! It has been a goal of mine for a while now to run a half marathon. I kept putting it off because of the fear of failure. Now I can check it off my bucket list!

I leave you with some pictures from the day. There are a few more pictures on the way, so I will post those later. Now on to icing my knees and taking a nap!

Happy Running everyone!

Pre-race photo. Just to clarify. We accidentally both wore the same shirts from a previous race 3 years ago. Matching was not planned or purposeful!

Post race picture! 13.1 miles later, we’re alive and well to tell about it!