Delayed Gratification

I can't sleep. I am bummed, it is 1:03 am. I am bummed because the Spartan Race has been cancelled. It was debatable whether I was going to run it or not but Irene made the choice for me, BUT, its a big but, I just opened an email that if I want to run the race tomorrow at 6am I can. I am tempted to run upstairs, pack my bag, set my alarm at be there by the 5am call time. I wouldn't sleep, it's only 4 hours from now...my heart is racing just thinking about it. This is the stuff I love. Breaking a sweat. Feeling the blood pump through my veins, the sweat run off my forehead, the strength needed to get every breath in and out of my lungs, but sadly...this year I am injured so to me an extra challenge, can I finish the race even if my calf muscles give out on me? I haven't been injured since high school soccer, but at 17 I could keep playing while healing. Now at 42 it is not the same. This is the first time I have started to feel old. I strained my calf muscle in June, took three weeks off and then injured it again. And again and again.  I need to stay off my leg, but I admit, I do not know what that means. I fear I don't have the patients but if I don't let my leg heal, could do permanent damage?
I am facing something we all face every day, just because we know what is right doesn't mean we do it.
I am registered for a triathlon on 3weeks, I'm afraid I am going to miss that too. I'm sad but realizing I need to do it right the first time, meaning, heal my leg now and then...if i am patient, race next Spring.
I hope Sunday turns out to be a beautiful sunny day......

Row, Row, Row your boat...

I can remember picking blue berries when I was 9. My kids started picking blue berries before they could walk, as they sat in a pack on my back. I fed them berries as I picked. We hike to the tower on Pitcher mountain and pick. Everyone has their own pail, some old and made of tin others a recycled large yogurt container on a string, but they all work and when the bottom is covered they no longer say, "kirplinck, kirlank, kirplunk."

If you ask me how long I have been coming to the lake I will tell you I have been coming here since I was 6, that I spent my summers here growing up. In truth I came here when I was 6, 9,11and 16 then it was another gap till college. I did not start coming to the lake regularly until my daughter was 3. The summers in between are blurry memories. So the lake is where I grew up.
Today I made a memories, not intentionally, but I think it will stick. As a child at the lake many of my memories involve the row boat. When I as old enough to go by myself, learning to row and when my Grandpa Put came running to the end of the dock in a panic to remind me not to run into the rocks around the island, I was 18. Hadn't I been doing this for year? Either way, this year I got a myself a rowboat. The maiden voyage involved two dogs, for kids and me. My niece is visiting, she is four, and this was her first boat ride. We went to the island for a jump off the rock, another first. We even found some blueberries.
We are all leaving the lake today and the summer is starting to wind down. The lake is a long time tradition in my family, my grandpa Put had been coming here since 1916 when his father bought the original camp. I cherish my time here and wish I could bring all my friends. Thank you to those that visited, hope some more of you can make it next summer, and I hope someday my kids will have the chance to share their memories as they make more in the summers to come.

Bracing for impact

Sometimes all I need is an hour on the lawn tractor to clear my head...todays thought...is it exhausting being a bitch?

When I was younger I always wanted to be mean, but I didn't have the guts. As I get older I realized being mean or a bully is really about insecurities but I still don't get it. Sometimes I still wish I could be mean, but I am told I have the patience of a saint and can be overly optimistic and forgiving. If you would like to refute this point, feel free. So someone was down right nasty to me the other day and it made me sad. I could be flippant and say, "I don't care what anyone else thinks of me" but the thing is I do care. Not like I cared in Junior High, but I care. I care in the way of being misjudged and not wanting another to think I would wrong them intentionally.

Words hurt, bad things happen, but how we respond shows are character. The Bible teaches us to turn the other cheek. As a child I thought it meant to ignore someone if they wronged us but now I know it is to "offer" the other cheek. Offering grace and forgiveness is no easy task, yet the benefits are great.