i *think* i'm done

Despite that I just Googled Hanson's marathon training the first post-CIM morning, I really think I am breaking up with that race. Famous last words. Never say never though. I mean, I did have another baby after swearing that off. But for now, let's just go with it's over.

pre-race shakeout with Oiselle birds!

I would love to be one of those people that runs for the love it, whose goal is to "have fun" racing. But let's be honest, that would probably be setting myself up for failure and that's not really my thing. Don't get me wrong. I like running, or at least I don't hate it. I am in love with my running tribe. I am grateful that I can run. And it feels good to do hard things. I think what I like most is that since I really just started running, I haven't peaked yet. Every race, every year is a chance to train harder, race smarter and see what hard thing I can do next.

I am not, however, that serious about racing. My training "plan" and I use that term in the loosest sense was a mashup of the plan I used last year while training with Fleet Feet and whatever my tribe was doing. You want to run 10 tempo miles 30 seconds faster than my planned goal marathon pace at 4:30 in the morning? Sure, I'm your girl. You want to do two 22-mile runs this training cycle? I only need 17 miles this week, but hell, I'll do an extra five. Will I pace you on a 22-mile death march in the middle of the night? Yep, and I will even walk through a creek and get my feet wet so yours don't have to. Did I accidentally do some of my workouts feeling a little hungover? Yeah, I did that too.

I also listened to Matt Fitzgerald's "How Bad Do You Want It?" along with running podcasts and YouTube videos, because I have always known that my mental game is where I fall apart. I get caught up in the suffering, careening down a slippery slope until I have given up because my mind tells me I just can't endure a higher perceived rate of effort. This year my plan was to race smarter. Be conservative on the front end. Don't burn the house down in the first few miles because I'm excited and feel good. I didn't get to test this plan because my tune up run, Monterey Bay Half Marathon got cancelled.

ALL THAT lead to me toeing the start line cozied right up to the 4:00 hour pacer. My goal was to drop about 7 minutes from last year and finish sub-4:00. The idea was to hang with the 4:00 hour group and then speed up right at the end because 3:59.59 is sub-4:00.

I hung out with the gang for the entire first half and it felt great. I felt strong, but anxious. Anxious because I was worried about what it was going to feel like later. As each mile passed I continued to feel strong. Not stronger, but just relieved that I wasn't falling apart. At 13.1, I pulled a bit ahead of the pacers after which I never looked back. I wasn't checking my watch, but I knew as long as I could stay ahead of them, I was going to hit my A goal.

13.1

Mile 18

I didn't even look at my watch until mile 22, at which point I realized I was running about a 9:00 mile. Mile 23.5 my cheering squad showed up---both my mama tribe and my Oiselle teammates. I didn't bother stopping because I had no idea how close that 4:00 pace group was and I didn't want to find out. So I waved and kept going.

The last mile was the hardest. Although I felt pretty good for having run 25 miles ... I had just run 25 miles. Then, I looked at my watch and realized that unless something catastrophic happened I was going to be sub-4:00, which resulted in me walking just a wee bit. I really hate the last part of the race through downtown. Unlike everyone else, the crowd energy doesn't fuel my inner burn. I'm almost entirely self-motivated. The race is me chasing pavement. Staying focused on running my race and not someone else's. Everything else is just a distraction.

I hit the 400 meter marker, put my head down and went for it. I didn't look for my family because last year stopping to wave to my kids cost me a sub-2:00 half marathon. I did hear them yell as I raced by so I knew they were there. And then it was over. Mission accomplished.

This isn't really the face of someone having fun ... even J1 told me afterward that my face didn't look v. happy. Ha.

There is, however, something to be said about setting goals, working hard, and seeing it all come together.

Post-race, I feel pretty good. I think I'm fully recovered and left wondering (again), if maybe I could have pushed harder. Part of me thinks for me to go faster, I would really have to be dedicated and give up something else, like taking care of my children. But there's always that part of you that wonders how much you can do with how little you have. Here's to wondering. Because as of now, I am NOT signed up to re-run CIM.

november rain

We need some. California is on fire. Literally.

Last year California was on fire and a race that I had trained for and was super excited about, Napa Ragnar, was cancelled. This, however, meant I got to spend my Saturday-Sunday with Tammy watching her crush the Rio Del Lago course. So it worked out.

This year, California, on fire again and a race that I trained for and was super excited about, Monterey Bay Half Marathon, was cancelled. I was going to run fast. I was going to run smart. It was going to be my last confidence boost before CIM in a few weeks. Until it wasn't. But again, it worked out.

We spent the long weekend exploring Pacific Grove and Monterey.

We stopped by the beach. The water was cold.

We went to the Monterey Bay Aquarium, which is right on the ocean and amazing. I did not get any amazing photos of the fan favorite sea otters, unfortunately. But both kids got up close to watch the sea otter feeding, which I also didn't get a photo of because I was standing in the back. Short people problems.

We even ran into some Carleton swammers. Carrie and her family were in town escaping the poor air quality in Alameda, while Karin was fleeing the Woolsey fire in Southern California. Next time we are all in Monterey due to wildfire, we'll have to remember to get a photo of all of us.

We also visited the Dennis the Menace park, which is a very nice, very large park designed, in part, by Hank Ketcham, where I managed to lose J2 a minimum of three times.

But just like the cat, he continued to come back. Thankfully.

Finally, on Monday as we headed back into what now feels like the apocalypse, we took our time stopping in Gilroy to do some shopping.

So what have we learned? November is a bad race month for this girl. But it's a good month for seeing old friends and spending time with family. There's nothing more I could ask for! Except for rain and clean air, please.

one day

Oct. 9. So much significance tied up into just one date.

On October 9, 2001, the door closed on my mother's life. It wasn't sudden. It felt long and painfully not unexpected. It felt like we had been living with that initial cancer diagnosis in some way, shape, or form since the moment it happened. That, however, does not mean that the loss was any less than it was. Awful. Heartbreaking. The saddest moment in my then 22-year-old life. My beautiful, gracious, pervasively-late to everything mom. She wasn't my best friend, although if she had lived longer I'd like to think we would have reached BFF status and she could regale me with her own motherhood stories. She was my mom. She was an omnipresence. She would send a subscription of mail order vitamins and handfuls of one-a-day calendar sheets---even when I lived on the east coast. If she was within 80 miles of Carleton while I was there, she'd swing by for lunch, no question. She would call to talk to you and after hanging up would call you right back because she forgot to tell you one last thing. She would miss watching you cheer lead because she thought she could fit in one more visit with a friend. But she was always there, or at least found a way for you to remember she was there. Until she wasn't.

But then on October 9, 2010, she let me know how THERE she still is in such a huge way. On that day, the door and my heart opened onto J1's bright shining future. I became a mom exactly 9 years after losing mine. It doesn't get more poetic than that.

The most important girls in my life are tied together by this one day. It's one day. And it changed my life forever---twice.

five, it's a handful

My darling J2, 

You are five! I have probably stunted your growth by treating you like my baby---because you ARE my baby. My littlest Chunglund. Nevertheless, you are now at least brushing your teeth, taking a bath, getting dressed, and getting into LOTS of trouble all on your own. Oh and you also are no longer crying every time you get a haircut, thank goodness! It also appears that you have stopped coloring on the walls. *knocks on wood* 

You are not, however, sleeping that independently but it's so so hard for me to make you do it when not so secretly I love how snuggly you are. 

One of your favorite things to do is play Legos. You build items to sell in your "store", which is really just my bed. This morning you told me how to discern whether the store is open or closed, and thankfully you informed me that there was a free sale on battle blades (whatever the heck that is)---so of course, I got three. 

Another favorite is helping yourself to whatever is in the refrigerator, including things you should not be eating, e.g., Diet Coke. This coincides nicely with another favorite thing, which is getting in trouble, e.g., poking a hole in the watermelon, which is arguably kinda impressive, but still.

Sigh. But this winning smile will get me every time. How can you be mad at this?

You are the kid standing front in center of the team soccer picture picking your nose. You are also the kid who yells parkour, spinning and jumping as you walk down the sidewalk. You are the kid that, much to my embarrassment, yells Donald Trump repeatedly and for unknown reason, while standing in line at Barnes & Noble. You see what I am getting at? You are hilarious, particularly to those people who aren't your parents and do not shoulder the responsibility of making sure you don't end up like said politician. I promise you, American people, I'm doing my best. 

Generally speaking, you have zero Fs to give. You do, however and most unfortunately, respond best to threats and coercion. Like most moms, I have no idea what happens when I get to 3---but thank goodness, you tend to finally do what you are asked as soon as I say 1. On the one hand, I guess it's good to know what motivates you. Knowledge is power, after all. On the other, it's exhausting and not that much fun to have to threaten you with things like no dessert, timeouts, no screen time, etc. just to get a modicum of compliance. 

I (and probably everyone else) clearly tell you that you are cute way too often, because you have expressed that J1 is the smart one* and you are the cute one. It's true. You are very very cute, but you are also smart. You are smart enough to know that you have to tell your teachers that I don't pack you a snack (even though I do!) so that you can get the Nutri-Grain bars that they keep for those kids whose parents actually don't pack snacks (again, NOT ME). You are also smart enough to know that if you want to take toys to school, you have to sneak them in your backpack. Unfortunately for you, you are not smart enough to remember that moms are superheros and know EVERYTHING.

You are sweet. So so sweet. Your love for me is as fierce as mine is for you. You do not like it when you think someone has hurt me---or if no one saves me a piece of bacon. Every morning when we say good-bye, you give me a hug and a kiss and then as I drive or walk away you always blow me a kiss. You are incredibly OCD about this ritual. It MUST happen. And I certainly do not object.  

With the exception of your sometimes super-entitled attitude, I love absolutely everything about you. I love your imagination. You make "computers" out of pillows and books and "key pads" for secret codes out of paper on your door. I am so lucky to be your Umma. 

Be five and fabulous, my little one! Keep growing. Keep being you. Sleep by yourself! And remember, I love you forever and like you most of the time. 

Your Umma.

*I (and probably everyone else) clearly tell J1 that she is smart way too often, as well. Hence, the problem.

high-5

This kid will be turning 5 shortly, but this mama is going to enjoy every last second of 4.

swim swam swum

WE ARE DONE! (at least for now) AMEN.

Another swim season is in the books for the Chunglunds, and this year both J1 and J2 swam. 8-ish hour swim meets, 100 degree temps, finding someone to get kids to/from practice ... if being a swimmer was a labor of love, being a swim mom is no different. Both my kids handled it like the champs they are.

J2, who could not swim and who last year wasn't all that interested in lessons, now has a superhero complex and thinks he can swim. In his defense, he can swim. Sort of. He can make it about a quarter- to halfway across the pool before starting to look like a drowning victim. Notably, he is smiling and laughing as he sinks to the bottom, so I'm just going to assume he's having fun.

This kid even managed a few swim meets with some LOTS OF help from the junior coaches, and he earned some ribbons that he's pretty proud of, especially after seeing the boatload that his sister took home. I think he liked it enough and is competitive enough with J1 that I can convince him to come back for another season.

the obligatory participation medal

This was J1's second season and she also did great. She learned how to dive from the blocks and finally earned her no-breath medal. I only got to see a few of her practices, but I will tell you that my face was probably beaming with pride as I saw how hard she worked. Coach Richard is a really talented coach. He talked about digging deep and when you think you can't, you just go a little more. I watched J1 listen to him and really take those words to heart as she would power through practice. The reality is that she's a middle of the pack swimmer, of which she's aware. But every meet this season she did a little bit better and not unexpectedly swam her fastest times last weekend at Champs.

Last night was the awards banquet. She told us that she didn't think she would get an award. While she was right, she wasn't going to be a high point winner, after hearing some of the parents talk, I had a feeling she was going to get one of the coveted towel awards for the number of PRs she had this season. I kept it to myself, but when they called her name the look on her face was priceless. She was so happy and you could just see how proud she was. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to snap a photo of that face (mom fail), but it is forever burned into my memory.

What an incredible season. This swammer is so proud of my little swimmers. Rio is DYNAMITE.

home

We've been having so much fun this summer that I haven't kept up with the blogging! Most recently we headed home (at least home for me) for our regularly scheduled Minnesota vacation. It's always a whirlwind to see ALL the people and still get a chance to relax and just do nothing. As the years have gone by, I think we've gotten better and better at fitting it all in.

We saw the regulars, my childhood besties and my dear friend Jenn and her family.

I swam across a lake with my friend, Beth.

We celebrated the 4th. My kids, despite being California bred, know nothing but the 4th of July in Tower, MN. We're sorta the token Asian family. It really wouldn't be the same without us.

J2 partied his pants off ... literally.

We had plenty of time to hang out with Dave, who is the best uncle and brother you could ever ask for. He's so good at playing with the kids so I don't have to do it. LOL.

We saw lots of cousins.

We swam, kayaked, and boated to our heart's content. I read three whole books that didn't have a single picture! THREE! Talk about guilty pleasure.

I took a super cute selfie with my parents' dog, Elvie.

I convinced my Dad to let me pop the 1998 bottle of Dom languishing in the wine fridge since forever.

J2 learned how to tap out. Thanks, Dave.

J1 learned how to play poker.

Best of all, there was quality time with Papa Roger and Grandma Amy.

It was certainly a whirlwind of fun. Thanks Minnesota! Until next time.