Slow and Steady

I finally did it this week.  I had been thinking about it for about two weeks, but decided to hold off for a bit. I really wanted to be smart about it. After giving birth to Charlie and Chanelle I started back too early and suffered the consequences. I was determined that this time I would do it right. 
Saturday was the day.  It had to be before the New Year so no one would have the false idea that it was a New Year’s Resolution. 

Saturday was the day I got back to running. 

Chad took Charlie and Chanelle to run some errands and I got Meadow down for a morning nap before tip-toeing back to the bedroom and grabbing  my running shoes.  As quickly as I could I crept down the basement stairs to the treadmill.  After stretching, I climbed on the familiar machine and pressed the start button.  As the belt began I felt a rush of excitement.  That feeling of getting back to something normal.   My plan was to start easy with one or two miles (since I was being smart about this and it had been about four months since my last run).  But I was feeling so good why not up, up, up my pace? And if one mile is good two must be better, right?  Or three?  Or four? 

My first run back after having Meadow was four miles at a pretty good pace. I was so surprised at how good I felt.  Seriously, I felt great.  I felt great, that is, until I woke up the next morning and could hardly walk.  Seriously, every muscle in my body ached and I started to wonder if I had contracted some serious illness overnight. 

Nope, no life-threatening illness, just stupidity on my part.  I’ve been a runner for more than 20 years. I should have known better.  Since Saturday I’ve been reprimanding myself and reminding myself, over and over, slow and steady wins the race. 

Why do I always think I can do it all?  Deep down, I know I can’t.   Just yesterday someone (who reads this blog) commented to me you make it look so easy.  She was referring to balance of everything.  I was quick to remind her the blog only tells about half 1/3 1/4 or maybe 1/10 of the story.  If you saw the “rest of the story” you would probably laugh or cry or encourage me to seek professional help. 

The rest of the story would show you the laundry basket with spilled clothes that resides daily in our living room.   All. Day.  Long.

On a really good day I actually get down and fold the laundry. . . usually with Meadow resting neatly in the Moby wrap.  And does it count as bonding time if Chanelle is folding laundry with me while Charlie is driving a remote control car through the clean laundry?

Yesterday, my in-laws invited Charlie and Chanelle over for an impromptu sleepover.  That left me home with Meadow and Chad and some extra time to actually make a decent meal.  I even had time to bake this super easy bread

It works great using half wheat flour.

I was excited to sit down today and serve a decent (not rushed) meal.  As I was getting everything ready for dinner, I was talking to my Dad on the phone.  As always, he tells me he can’t understand me because I’m talking too fast and/or my voice is muffled.  I explained that is because I’m usually doing about 300 things at a time. During our conversation I left the kitchen so I could hear him better and walked around the house with Meadow.  When I came back I could barely see the kitchen from the living room through the dense cloud of toxic smoke that filled the room. 

Um, note to self. . . do not put Tupparware on a hot stove-top that is “ON”.  While I hurriedly opened doors and windows to rid the room of smoke before Chad came home so as to not hear the “don’t-put- tuppareware-on-the-stove-top” lecture for the 50th time (yep, this has happened before) I burnt the rest of dinner. . .

Slow and steady, slow and steady, slow and steady. . .  

I can’t tell you how often things like this happen.  Really, this was just tonight’s events and it was a pretty good night.  Most often, the “rest of the story” is quite comical and messy.  My mistakes and bad decisions are endless.  On the other side of my lens?  There is burnt food and a smoky house with laundry littering the floor. 

I’ve slowed down my running and taking it one mile at a time now.  My body is healing and the lesson is learned. . . slow and steady, slow and steady.  I don’t think this is a lesson just for my running, it’s a lesson for life.  A lesson that keeps popping up.  Supermom, I am not. 

I want to learn so much about photography. . . slow and steady, Summer
I want to run another marathon. . . slow and steady, Summer.
I want to organize my house. . . slow and steady, Summer.
I want to finish that book. . . slow and steady, Summer
I want to write a great blog post. . . slow and steady, Summer. 
I want to not burn Tupparware on the stove. . . slow and steady, Summer.

I could go on and on. . .

When I really get down to it I know what is important.  I mean, really, truly important. 

These tiny little moments that make up our days.  These precious moments that reach deep into my soul and put my tank on full for days.

It’s silly to worry that my kids will remember or care that a laundry pile was a permanent fixture in our living room or every now and again the house filled with smoke from Tupparware burning on the stove. . . I don’t think these things will matter to them.  What they will remember is that I was there. 

That I was with them. . .

That I was present.

Yes, there are so many things that I want and I want now.  Now isn’t necessarily important, though.  What is important is that I take one day at a time and enjoy what I have now. . . however imperfect or messy or smoky it is. 

In time, slow and steady will win the race.

  • Charbelle - January 6, 2012 - 3:32 pm

    Slow and steady, sounds like a good mantra for 2012!!!


  • Adopted Aunt - January 6, 2012 - 6:20 pm

    Oh Summer! You know how many times I have burned cookes and tupperware in the oven at home (my mom kept tupperware in the oven) why??? So Jackie could burn it!! She even started watching me measure when making cookies!! I know I need to be slow and steady too. Glad you are back to running. I know its something that you love. I NEED to get organized and am doing it slowly. Laundry (thank goodness Brett is home right now:) . I want to learn to be a better photographer but know it will take time. What is important. Just as you showed in your pictures. Family, God, Friends, time spent with them!!!
    Thanks for helping me to not feel like a failure. Love you. Bread looks wonderful!!!!! recipe???ReplyCancel

  • Ky β€’ - January 6, 2012 - 6:57 pm

    AH, you're right. Slow and steady…ReplyCancel

  • Sassytimes - January 6, 2012 - 8:05 pm

    Thanks for the chat and dose of reality the other night. πŸ˜‰ We are so much alike. I keep reminding myself…in due time, in due time…

    And I burnt tupperware on the stove last night for the first time. It stinks! Trying to be supermom is not in the cards for me…tonight, it's pizza. πŸ˜‰ReplyCancel

  • Trophy Life - January 6, 2012 - 9:05 pm

    so, so very true. we are our worst critics, aren't we? πŸ˜‰

    glad you didn't have any serious body-injury or crazy illness making you sore. as to the Tupperware fiasco, there is no look of surprise currently on my face! why? cause these things make you uniquely Sumo. and it's why i love you.

    i love the pic with Meadow's furrowed brown and her sis's content look due to the WWF move she's placing on her sister!ReplyCancel

  • lisa - January 7, 2012 - 11:23 pm

    This is exactly why I've grown so attached and fond of you and your blog! You are so open and down to earth…and you do make it look easy! But it's because of your natural awesomeness that you inspire others like myself.

    I'm glad to hear your okay and not injured…keep it slow & steady friend! :). You are supermom- just need to put in low gear that's all! πŸ™‚ReplyCancel

  • urban muser - January 8, 2012 - 2:55 am

    good for you getting back to running! glad to hear you are thinking of joining {in the picture}. hope to see you there!ReplyCancel

  • Kathryn - January 8, 2012 - 3:35 am

    such a fantastic post, Summer…and we are kindred souls trying to learn to take it slower…inhale. exhale. repeat.ReplyCancel

  • Pam - January 9, 2012 - 3:02 am

    Summer, you are an awesome writer and an inspiring mother. I'm so sorry Sally didn't get to know you and have your influence during her "youth group" years! thanks for sharing your life ~ Pam Clark (first Presbyterian, fremont)ReplyCancel

  • Kendra - January 15, 2012 - 2:17 am

    Amen, friend. Amen.ReplyCancel

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