The Karianna Spectrumtag:www.karianna.us,2010:/blog/12010-03-11T23:42:34ZA Spectrum of Kari!Movable Type 4.31-enTuTus for Tannertag:www.karianna.us,2010:/blog//1.10862010-03-11T23:05:07Z2010-03-11T23:42:34ZWhile the Tiarathon was a complete blast for me, and for the majority of the Shredheads, it was an unfortunate "bust" for our dear Shredhead Her Bad Mother, who passed out the evening before the race, so made the prudent...Kariannahttp://www.kariannaspectrum.comWhile the Tiarathon was a complete blast for me, and for the majority of the Shredheads, it was an unfortunate "bust" for our dear Shredhead Her Bad Mother, who passed out the evening before the race, so made the prudent decision to sit out the half-marathon.
While there will always be other races, and it is definitely best to take care of oneself rather than pushing hard into an endurance event when the body is spent, this particular race had great significance for Catherine, and for her nephew Tanner.
Please visit Her Bad Mother to get a feel for how heartbroken she is to have not been able to do this event. You see, she's been training hard in her nephew's honor, and has pledged "100 Miles for Tanner." Disney is of course a magical place, and she would have wanted to run amidst the fairy dust.
In solidarity with Catherine and in honor of Tanner, Kristen has set up Tutus for Tanner. Instead of one race run in Tanner's honor, we're going to spread the effort such that anyone can run a race in Tanner's honor - just don your tutu and you're good to go!
I never thought I'd be running a trail race in a tutu, but I'll do just that, at least twice. Of course, there will be a few races for which a tutu will fit right in nicely, like the next time I do Disney (I'm contemplating doing the Disneyworld one in September - but the half-marathon this time instead of the 5k) and I'm doing San Francisco's Bay to Breakers, an event that always has excellent costumes (and nudity.)
Head on over to Tutus for Tanner and join the fluff, for a subject that is most definitely not chintzy. ]]>
Run Like a Princesstag:www.karianna.us,2010:/blog//1.10852010-03-11T20:33:27Z2010-03-11T22:20:46ZOn Sunday I completed the "Tiarathon" - otherwise known as the Disney Princess Half-Marathon. I must admit I'm in shock a bit that it is over. After all, it was about a year ago that I started the 30-Day-Shred with...Kariannahttp://www.kariannaspectrum.comOn Sunday I completed the "Tiarathon" - otherwise known as the Disney Princess Half-Marathon. I must admit I'm in shock a bit that it is over.
After all, it was about a year ago that I started the 30-Day-Shred with the Shredheads community, and about a month and a half later that I reluctantly decided to climb on board to the whole "let's run a 5K" madness. As I looked for a race that would be fun and magical, I came across Disneyland's September race, but also noticed Disney World's Princess Half-Marathon. "Hey, maybe we'll be ready for a half-marathon in March 2010!?" I somewhat joked to my fellow newbie runners. After all, March 2010 seemed soooooo far away.
And now it is over.]]>
It really was amazing. It was easier for me than the half-marathon I did at the start of February. My reason for doing that first one was to psychologically prepare myself for the Disney half, and it worked. I went into the Disney race knowing that I'd finish, and finish well before the "golf cart of shame" sent for people who fail to maintain a 16min/mile pace.
Sure, the 20 minute walk to the start line was freezing, and my foot fell asleep halfway through the race, which presented a challenge, but overall the race was pure magic. Disney characters cheered us on (or drunkenly fell into us, like Captain Jack Sparrow; or yelled at us to get moving, like the Toy Story green army men.) Running through the Magic Kingdom was... magic, naturally, and bounding through Cinderella's Castle would have been a great photo if the photographer wasn't pointing his lens elsewhere.
The miles really melted by. Certain songs prompted me to run faster, and certain sights made me tear up happily. Indeed, Disney is the happiest place on earth. The spectators were terrific, cheering everyone on. Fellow runners complimented each other, too, usually for costume items. (My rhinestone tights were a big hit! I personally loved the men dressed up as partners for their running princesses.)
At the mile 13 sign, a gospel choir made me grin - I sprinted (or what I think approximates a sprint after 13 miles!) the final .1 mile to the finish line. It was such an incredible feeling to cross that line.
And then... the medal:
I wore it for several days afterward. (I wore it under my sweater. My aim was to be proud of myself, not to boast to the rest of the world.)
And yesterday, I ran for the first time again.
I knew there would be a let-down after such an incredible experience, so I've already signed up for a bunch more races. I don't want to just quit running just because I conquered the Princess Half. There are many other races to run, yet I hope I can run like a princess next year (and the following year, and the following year...)
Less than a year from wheezing after ninety seconds to running a half-marathon. If I can do it, so can you!]]>
Packing My Tiaratag:www.karianna.us,2010:/blog//1.10822010-02-26T20:27:51Z2010-02-26T21:45:55ZA week from today, I'll be on an airplane bound for Florida. The last time I was in Florida, it was for the ARVO conference. ARVO stands for the "Association for Research in Vision and Ophthalmology" but "ARVO" sounds so...Kariannahttp://www.kariannaspectrum.com
A week from today, I'll be on an airplane bound for Florida. The last time I was in Florida, it was for the ARVO conference. ARVO stands for the "Association for Research in Vision and Ophthalmology" but "ARVO" sounds so much more hip, don't you think?
While in Florida that other time, I presented a poster on visual search, ate wings at Hooters and swam in the ocean while wearing a very strange weight-lifting uniform (because I thought I was too fat for a bikini. In reality, I was not fat in the least.) When I decided I wasn't cool enough to walk around and party, I instead holed up in my hotel room with a bunch of bridal magazines. Oh yes, I thought I was about to be engaged.
But I wasn't.
Ahem. So, um, this trip to Florida is going to be much different. ]]>
Hooters (although I guess it was yummy.) I certainly won't be sorting through bridal magazines, because instead I'll be wearing a big blue princess ring from my youngest son to match my other princess attire.
I've traded in my muddy sneaks (as pictured they were "cleaned up") for some brand-new white sparkly ones (which I ran in today with better results than the shrunken-post-mud-race ones had given me during my first half-marathon race at the start of February.)
By chance I received a sparkly-tiara cap from Disney - although I'm wishy-washy on whether shiny (unbreathable?) black is a good choice for a race. On one hand, I want the sparkle and sun-shade capabilities of the cap -- and on the other hand, I'm not sure if my head will freak out and want to breathe. So, thank you so much Disney, but I think I might wear the cap during the rest of the weekend and let my head breathe during the actual race? Yes, I'm undecided on this one, but ain't it beautiful?
Alas, I cannot find my actual tiara. I have some little tiara hair combs and I have a sparkly headband, but my actual tiara is somewhere in this house, hiding. I even had a dream about finding it, but since the location of the dream was fictitious, I cannot translate it to real life.
But, I know what matters isn't what I am wearing, but rather my ability to complete the race.
Let's say that on one hand, my mind is blown that I'm actually going to run a half-marathon a week from Sunday. I am double-ly blown that this will occur at Disneyworld (I've never been!) and that an offhand "Hey, let's run this princess race" comment nearly a year ago has resulted in a huge group of people making the trek. (Thanks to Kristen for rallying the Shredheads for the occasion.) But on the other hand, I ran a half-marathon at the start of February, and last week completed a personal record in a 10K race, during which I ran the whole time. Yup, that's right - no walk breaks. So I know I can do the half in a week. I know it. And yet, I'm scared.
I'm nervous because I'll be running with people who I know are going to finish before me. I have some envy because I wish I were that fast. And yet, I know that to finish is a huge accomplishment! A year ago, I was sick with the whole chest-congestion thing, and as I saw "Shredheads" buttons pop up on people's blogs, laughed because I wasn't getting off the couch anytime soon. But then I joined the Shredheads in mid-March, completed the shred in exactly 30 days, and with a huge dose of reluctance, started to run.
As of today, I've run five 5K races, four 10K races, and a half-marathon. Come April, I'll have added another half-marathon, another 5K and another 10K to the tally (fingers crossed that I have no injuries!) At the end of the half-marathon a few weeks ago, I hobbled to my car, but also knew that the Tiarathon is Possible. (An added "bonus" is that since my car was over a mile away from the race - and I had to sprint to the bus bound for the the start line - I traveled over 15 miles on foot that day.) And last weekend, I ran for 6.2 miles straight, and felt invincible at the end.
I am slow. Even when I run without walk breaks, I am slow. But I get it done. I sound like a crazy preacher when I exclaim that if I can do it, YOU can do it.
Next weekend is going to be a challenge. I am already jittery thinking about it. But this anticipation and feeling of "I can do it!" is exactly why I set this goal in the first place.
Now if only I can find my tiara...
--
The glass slipper with running-tread is from Disney's Princess Half-Marathon website.]]>
Making the Science Fair Mandatory?tag:www.karianna.us,2010:/blog//1.10802010-02-22T16:03:20Z2010-02-26T22:10:24ZLast week I completed a huge item on my "to-do" list: Co-Chairing our school's Science Fair. As expected, there were little glitches here and there. We will learn from our mistakes and the process should be much smoother next year....Kariannahttp://www.kariannaspectrum.com
Last week I completed a huge item on my "to-do" list: Co-Chairing our school's Science Fair.
As expected, there were little glitches here and there. We will learn from our mistakes and the process should be much smoother next year. Things such as night janitors being forced to take furlough (so not available to open the gym for us) because of budget cuts were not under our control, but at least we know which questions to ask next time.
I knew there would be bumps along the road, but what I didn't expect was a couple of parents whose attitudes about science brought up some challenging questions and potentially frustrated some children.]]>
All students - whether they did a project or not - are then encouraged to see the other experiments in the room. The second part is the official "Fair" that is held in the evening. Parents come with their students. Several exhibitors present hands-on science-related demonstrations.
During the school-day classroom visit time, two women shared their dissatisfaction with what they saw as a lack of emphasis on science instruction at the school. While I can agree with some of their observations, they took it overboard.
One woman decided that it was appropriate to write notes on students' projects, telling them to google certain terms to get more information about their subject matter. She laughed as she told us that one "clueless" student didn't know why growing flowers in coffee grounds worked so well. This student's project involved different growing medium, such as adding milk to dirt, plain dirt, and the aforementioned coffee.
"Obviously adding coffee grounds works, because that's what people do when they garden!" this mom laughed, "We add egg shells and coffee grounds to plants..." and she kept going.
But an elementary-school student is not necessarily going to know much about gardening. Her curiosity in the subject should be encouraged, not mocked.
A second woman - who quickly identified herself a Civil Engineer so that we'd all know that she must be smart - declared that the students didn't know how to do "proper" science projects. "Their hypotheses are wrong," she snorted, "And once the hypothesis is wrong, the project makes no sense."
(Unfortunately, she didn't express her opinion just to the other parents. I overheard her telling a student he was wrong and that he should have done x, y, and z.)
She continued her rant, expressing how these kids would essentially be doomed to a lifetime of not learning the Scientific Method should it not be corrected right this instant. She and the other woman asserted that the Science Fair should be mandatory and graded. She even suggested that as part of the Science Fair, parents take a class in the Scientific Method so that they could "properly" teach their children.
The bit about the Scientific Method class stunned me into near silence. There is so much wrong with the underlying assumptions there that I cannot even begin to express my frustration.
Of course there is the assumption that parents are so uneducated that they need instruction themselves. There is an assumption that all parents want their children to participate in the Science Fair, or that they are able to take the time out of their schedules to have a heavy hand in the production of "their child's" experiment. There is the assumption that someone such as me would willingly teach such a class (or, do they suppose they will pay someone to do it -- from where would this money come from?)
A scientist should know that different people think different ways. While learning the Scientific Method and its particular line of reasoning and logical thinking is definitely of value, it doesn't come easy to everyone. People have interest and talent in other fields. At the elementary school level, it is important to spark interest so that when the more challenging instruction comes, the student rises to the occasion.
If a student with kinesthetic intelligence wants to pit boys and girls against each other in a test of balance and flexibility, she is engaged in her project. She might not know exactly why she supposes that girls might be better at the tasks than boys, but she's having fun. As she takes biology later, she remembers her project and tries to figure out the why behind her observations. There is a big reason that so many athletes end up becoming interested in sports medicine! When something is relevant to natural interests, it becomes exciting.
But if that student was chastised for an "improper" hypothesis, the experience becomes negative. Why bother working hard to learn all that "boring" science stuff?
The way I see it, having a fun Science Fair in elementary school where the students wonder about things, brainstorm ideas, and examine and explore puts a positive spin on science. The "rules" of how to "properly" conduct an experiment can come a bit later.
While it would be fabulous to have a huge chunk of time devoted to the Science Fair and its associated method, the budget is not there to support it. The curriculum is tied to the standardized test material. We're lucky to have an art and science foundation separate from the school to support enrichment instruction. And yet these women want more.
I'll pause to say that one of the women had a good idea about doing a "hypothesis check" earlier in the process to help focus students' ideas. If this is done in an encouraging way, it might make completing a project easier and might provide some instruction in a non-threatening way. I'd love to provide support to those students who want it (see Jaelithe's comment on her science fair experience.) I wouldn't mind asking teachers to hold back on heavy homework assignments the weekend before the Science Fair, too, to facilitate participation. There are certainly things that we can do to encourage and support participation in the Science Fair, but I still believe it shouldn't be graded (or mandatory.)
It would be terrific to spark interest in everything: art, literature, science, history, social studies, and so forth. But the time and resources are not available to do it all simultaneously.
This year, my third-grade son has a teacher who loves literature. She loves drama. She loves art. As a result, he has many at-home "presentation-type" projects to complete. Because of his workload there, he was unable to do a Science Fair project. But - I expect he'll do one next year. This year, I think it is terrific that he's memorizing scenes from famous plays, encouraging me to purchase him sequels to books his teacher has read in class, and finding ways to be creative.
Last year, my son was too nervous to read aloud much in class. This year, he enjoys trying on different voices for different characters, the way his teacher does. In the previous two years, the teachers kept telling him to use more "feeling" when reading or to speak louder. But this year, his teacher showed him how to do it.
It made sense to me, then, to encourage him to do his best work on his classroom assignments this year, rather than pushing him to do a Science Fair project. Of course, had he come to me with an enthusiastic experiment idea, I would have happily supported him.
If the Science Fair had been mandatory, and if his hypothesis had been scrutinized after he had finished the project, I think he would have been turned off from science. Instead, he attended the "exhibitor" portion of the Science Fair with me and had a blast, He enjoyed doing bottle-rockets, extracting DNA from strawberries, and building contraptions to test on an earthquake table. He asked to go to science camp this summer.
Interestingly, it appears that neither woman who believed the Fair should be mandatory showed up at the main event. Perhaps they would have been encouraged to see the glee on the student's faces as they explored. Or, maybe they would have scoffed that the kids were just "playing" with building blocks. But in a few years, perhaps those kids will remember which-shaped buildings lasted the longest on the earthquake table. Maybe they'll remember the pattern the building made as it shook, illustrating engineering and mathematical principles. Or maybe they'll just remember that science is fun.]]>
A Breezy 10ktag:www.karianna.us,2010:/blog//1.10842010-02-20T21:18:18Z2010-03-11T21:23:38ZFrom my "Daily Mile" report: (The race was called "Bay Breeze" both for the location and for the ease of the flat course.) 2 minutes faster than my very first 10K last October; however, I felt much better after this...Kariannahttp://www.kariannaspectrum.com
From my "Daily Mile" report:
(The race was called "Bay Breeze" both for the location and for the ease of the flat course.)
2 minutes faster than my very first 10K last October; however, I felt much better after this one than that first! I felt like I could have kept going today, which was sort of the point because I wanted to practice keeping a steady pace for the Tiarathon.
This was the first time (aside from the Disney 5K) that I ran an entire race without walk breaks. I'm kinda surprised, then, that I wasn't much faster than races where I've walked more and even one race where I stopped at the restroom.
I felt terrific today - I really enjoyed running in a rhythm without the walk-breaks. So even though I was a bit disappointed to learn that I hadn't drastically improved my time, I really felt invincible at the end.
Continuing the "not last" tradition, I was #28 of 34 women in my age division (two of whom were in the top three overall female finishers - #1 was age 30, then #2 and #3 were both 35.) I was #173 of 211 total male and female runners.]]>
Science Fairtag:www.karianna.us,2010:/blog//1.10792010-02-17T14:23:20Z2010-02-22T18:21:22ZI will be looking at things like this all day today. This particular poster -- with super glittery-sparkly accents - belongs to Splig. Rest assured he participated in the actual "science" part, too. Close-ups of Splig's glittery accents:...Kariannahttp://www.kariannaspectrum.com
Close-ups of Splig's glittery accents:]]>
]]>
Recreation over Responsibilitytag:www.karianna.us,2010:/blog//1.10762010-02-16T17:24:39Z2010-02-27T16:34:37ZOver a week ago, I ran a half-marathon. (Yeah, I really did. And I didn't die.) And this coming Saturday, I have a 10K trail race, put on my the same people who did the challenging mud-slinging OMG-a-creek race from...Kariannahttp://www.kariannaspectrum.com
Over a week ago, I ran a half-marathon. (Yeah, I really did. And I didn't die.) And this coming Saturday, I have a 10K trail race, put on my the same people who did the challenging mud-slinging OMG-a-creek race from a couple weeks ago.
I really shouldn't be having so much fun.
Instead, I should be cleaning my house. After all, the boys' toys and other belongings are still piled in the living room even though at least one room is dried out from The Great Mold Invasion. I should start the reassembly process. And yeah, the boxes of Christmas decorations on the porch should really go in the shed.
Instead, I need to work on Science Fair stuff. The Science Fair is tomorrow. Tomorrow. Splig and I did his project over the weekend. The Cat doesn't want to do a project. How ridiculous is it that the Co-Chair of the Science Fair's own kid isn't submitting a project? Oh well...
Instead, I should blog. (heh.) ]]>
And then sleeping.
Oh, it isn't true that I've shirked all my responsibilities. After all, we've had some unexpected home glitches, like the water-heater repair, mold situation, and just yesterday we had our furnace fixed. I've been doing paid work. I've been volunteering at a church youth program. (In fact, tomorrow I'll spend the entire day at the Science Fair, except for a few hours in the middle where I'll be setting up dinner for the after-school church program. That will be my "break.") I helped the Cat create his Mardi-Gras float. I assisted Splig with his Science Fair project. I assembled 44 little tin heart boxes for the kids to distribute last week as Valentines.
And, I've been watching the Olympics! (Oh sure, that's a responsibility. A responsibility to My Country!)
So, that is a lot of words to say that on one hand, I'm pretty happy with my "Tiarathon" preparation, but on the other hand I'm pretty overwhelmed with the other things that need to get done. And that, my friends, is why it has been so quiet on this bloggie-thing.]]>
Standardized Teststag:www.karianna.us,2010:/blog//1.10752010-02-09T03:06:41Z2010-02-16T17:59:40ZLast May, my then-second-grader took his first STAR test. And then this autumn he took the OLSAT. He's also taken some other assessment tests here and there, and one recent exam prompted the teacher to say she didn't believe the...Kariannahttp://www.kariannaspectrum.comLast May, my then-second-grader took his first STAR test. And then this autumn he took the OLSAT. He's also taken some other assessment tests here and there, and one recent exam prompted the teacher to say she didn't believe the results because so many of her otherwise high-achieving students seemed to have scored low. She then mentioned that the computer teacher who gave the tests provided heavy incentive to finish quickly. Rushing through an exam does nobody favors.
I remember the whole standardized test ritual fondly. Sure, we parents moan about how it isn't really an accurate assessment of our kids, and wonder how schools can be given funding based on a number. We worry about cultural differences and how sometimes a very intelligent student might get an answer incorrect because he or she recognizes nuances in the question that the very people who created the exam may not have. Most of all, we worry about "teaching to the test;" the fact that an education based on multiple choice has little to do with the real world.
But I thought it was fun.]]>
Smart kid!
Well, I realized as I grew up that I wasn't quite as smart as those test might imply. In terms of "life skills" I had a lot to learn.
Nonetheless, it was with pride that I saw today that my third grader is a smart kid. Sure, we knew that. But every parent believes their child is the Absolute Top. And funny how in some ways, saying "yeah, my kid tested high" is almost as much an "admission" than mentioning other sorts of "labels" or revelations that a kid had speech therapy or has some sort of weakness (as all kids do.)
Meanwhile, the state of education in California remains in flux. In an ideal situation, all kids could learn according to the modality that works the best for their strengths. All kids would be encouraged according to their interests. Those who need an extra push in some areas could be given that training. Those who need enrichment can be provided that extra stimulation. And those "twice exceptional" (with learning differences, yet high intelligence in other areas) could be seen for what they are, rather than "above average plus below average equals average" such that they end up bored in some areas and overly-challenged in others.
I don't have an answer to the budget crisis. I have no idea how to accommodate for all the different learning styles, strengths, weaknesses, and interests of individual kids. And I certainly don't know how to value "life skills" in the midst of the whole stew.
But with a maturing third-grader who seems pretty sharp (both on paper and in practice) and a charismatic kindergartner who has his own strengths and weaknesses, I can't help but worry a bit. Like every parent, I hope my kids will learn, grow and be "nurtured" (but also challenged) in the most appropriate way.
It is a tough equation.]]>
My First Half Marathontag:www.karianna.us,2010:/blog//1.10832010-02-08T00:06:26Z2010-03-11T21:14:37ZFrom my "Daily Mile" report: This was a Tiarathon warm-up. I took it pretty easy to make sure I could go the whole distance. It was definitely fabulous to reach the end. Now I KNOW I can do the Disney...Kariannahttp://www.kariannaspectrum.com
From my "Daily Mile" report:
This was a Tiarathon warm-up. I took it pretty easy to make sure I could go the whole distance. It was definitely fabulous to reach the end. Now I KNOW I can do the Disney Princess Half! Here's more of the story:
An unfortunate side-effect of the awesome trail run I had last week was that I made a big mistake and used my dryer to help the drying-out process of my shoes after removing all the mud -- so my shoes shrank a bit. Running in them last week didn't "stretch" them.
And so -- very early in this race, I felt my sock acting funny. I adjusted it. Then it happened again. I realized it was my shoes causing the problem, so it isn't surprising I have 5 blisters on the problem foot (and one on the other foot for good measure.) This is the first time I've ended up with blisters, and definitely surprising that it happened around mile 3 - so I'll be getting new shoes for the Tiarathon!
Then the other complication was that the main parking lot was filled - so I took over 20 minutes to find a suitable parking space, but it was over a mile away from the race shuttle. I walked most of the way towards the shuttle, but then one of the people conducting traffic yelled, "The last shuttle left, I think! You gotta JAM to see if it left!" And so I RAN... and caught the shuttle. But that meant I had already walked/run a mile before the race even started.
When the gun went off I was in the loo. Not a problem, for with 10,000 racers, it took awhile for everyone to filter through anyway. In a way, being late to the race meant I could jump right in without having my nerves really percolate.
On the way back from the finish, I again had to walk that mile (slowly and very painfully!) -- which means I actually walked/ran a tad over 15 miles yesterday. I earned my Superbowl food (steak and garlic mashed potatoes!)
And! Still NOT LAST! I was #484 of 505 in my age group. #5779 of 6087 overall M and F finishers. (There were 10,000 total racers - but there was a 5K, too.)
]]>
Mold and Mud.tag:www.karianna.us,2010:/blog//1.10732010-02-01T06:33:33Z2010-02-16T17:59:55ZThe start of last week was tough. It was really tough. Lots of work to do, lots of "extracurricular" hassle, and in general just a tiring time. (Plus it was raining - great for our drought, not great for the...Kariannahttp://www.kariannaspectrum.com
The start of last week was tough. It was really tough. Lots of work to do, lots of "extracurricular" hassle, and in general just a tiring time. (Plus it was raining - great for our drought, not great for the rapidly growing weeds in our too-fertile soil or for very energetic boys who appreciate the outdoors.)
On Thursday the weather cleared a bit, so I went for a quick run. I joked to a friend that if I hadn't signed up for a 10K on Saturday, I wouldn't have allowed myself that break. After all, it seemed like an indulgence to actually take time for myself in the midst of a week where everyone else wanted a piece of me.
The next morning - Friday - I awakened to a couple surprises. First there was a good surprise: the previously disastrous kitchen was clean! Husband had made donuts the night before, and I feared the worst. But he had done the dishes!
I praised him ("good puppy, do that trick again!") but he gave me a little half smile, "I'm glad you like that I cleaned the kitchen, but I'm going to tell you something that is going to ruin your day."]]>
Mold.
He found mold. And what he saw was the tip of the iceberg. As I carefully took toys out of the boys' rooms to clear the way for us to figure out the extent of the problem, I continued to find more and more mold.
OMG.
The water heater leak from two weeks ago, plus the seemingly endless rain, plus some other factors (poor air circulation and low temperature, the primary ones) gave the mold a party pad.
Instead of relaxing the day before my 10K trail run, I spent the day moving toys and furniture, kicking up dust and more. My back killed, but I had no choice - we had to clear out the rooms to clean them.
An entire "the mold guy wants us to rip down our house" drama ensued, but I'll spare you the details. As it stands now, we're going to do some further inspection into whether we need extensive treatment, but for now the rooms are clean.
For all practical reasons, I should have skipped the 10K race. After all, I spent all of Friday on my feet, bending my knees, and irritating my back and lungs. I was stressing myself physically and emotionally while not getting all the other tasks done that I was supposed to.
I should have skipped the race to catch up on work, to help the continued mold-cleaning effort, and to not risk injury to a tired body.
But, I knew this had to be "ME" time. Not doing the race would have stressed me out more. It is true that I wouldn't have run on Thursday if I didn't have the race. I would have figured I'd run another time. I would have just sat at my computer, sedentary: earning money, but putting on the pounds. But I knew that I couldn't come into a race cold - I'd injure myself. So I did run on Thursday. And I decided that I would run on Saturday as well.
And what an adventure it was.
During all of last week, the Race Director sent us a bunch of emails about mud, closing cow gates, and mentions that if any of us wanted to downgrade our distance, we were welcome to do so at no charge. (This race had 5k, 10k, and half-marathon distances.) He kept saying that this was not a fast course. In fact, they switched the course because one hill was actually impossible to climb post-rain.
I stuck with the 10k. After all, I have Project 2010k.
At the start of the race, the Director laughed, "You will get very muddy. Most of you will fall. You will all get your feet completely soaked. Just make peace with it now!"
As we began, my legs immediately locked up. I couldn't believe it. Usually the first mile is annoying as my body warms up, but at least I run. But this time, my legs were heavy. The first part of the course was fairly flat, straight, and not-muddy, but my legs just didn't want to participate. I started to walk. Hey, I've got 6.2 miles, no hurry I figured. I ran a little, walked a little, ran a little, and was just not feeling the happy.
When the 5K turn-around arrived. I seriously considered just turning around with them. But I trudged on ahead, towards the unknown. I went past some trees, and then made a big turn to reveal my challenge.
What I saw were hills. Hills. Straight-up hills. Slimy, muddy hills.
People lost shoes. People fell down. We laughed as we climbed up sideways to prevent losing our progress. I grabbed trees when I could. We ran on the little bits of grass on the side of the trail, yet I feared going too far to the side because of some relatively unfriendly-looking drop-offs.
Once a major set of hills was complete, I saw yet another set, but this time they were dry. At the top, I audibly gasped, "Beautiful."
I had started in a valley. And now I was on top of a high hill. I could see many miles away. I was stunned at how tiny everything was below. I was down there! I realized.
I could actually picture myself running in some T.V. commercial about "getting outside" or "freedom" - a lone person running on the top of a rolling hill, under a blue sky. Of course I'm sure my form isn't so graceful as I pictured it, but I felt so free and powerful for that moment.
For that moment. Because of course the mud returned. And the cows, naturally - although they were really just scenery. None of them got angry. One did come very close to the trail, but I just kept running.
(The cameraphone pictures: Left: Some of the easy rolling non-muddy part of the course. The little dot is a cow. Right: The view -- everything is tiny from way up here! )
Of course what goes UP, must come DOWN.
While I did really well at not falling during most of the downward portions, one enormous hill finally forced me to take a tumble. And then another.
Finally I reached a straight portion and an aid station where the gentleman quipped, "Just another mile or so to go!" I smiled wide. I figured I just had to run back to the finish line. I could hear the finish-line music. I thought it was just a flat "go back to where you began."
Instead, I entered a mossy forest.
It was gorgeous in a different way than the hills had been. This time, it was dark and damp, bright-green mossy trees, and no kidding - a CREEK in my path. (Yeah, the race was called "Bear Creek" so I guess the whole "OMG I have to run through a creek!" shouldn't have been a surprise.)
The forest portion of the trail was single-file. That's scary with slippery mud, but most of it was packed down nicely. I kept going UP and DOWN and AROUND and AROUND. I could still hear cheers and other things from the finish line, so I didn't think I had far to go. And yet, the last portion of the trail was straight down, and then straight back up. I could see the spectators above me, but I was at the bottom of the darn creek. I never would have guessed that the race start would end up being at the bottom of one part of the race, but at the top of the finishing part.
I did all the little switch-backs to finally make it up the incline. And with a tiny portion of flat pavement, gave a kick (yes! I really did!) and finished!
This is going to be my Big Fish Story forever, I think. I can't believe I did it. It was the hardest, and yet most beautiful race (or hike, or walk) I've ever done. It was amazing on so many levels.
The kooky thing of course, is that afterward I felt simultaneously invincible --and ready to just curl up in a ball.
So I think I'll go rest... but only for a moment!
--
The Race Director wrote on Saturday night : "We don't need to tell you that it was a wild and woolly day on the trails today! The late rains of Friday night turned what were already tough trails into an all-out "mudfest" in many sections. Any question about whether you were a hard-core trail runner has surely been blown to smithereens!"
Hard-core Trail Runner. I like the sound of that!]]>
Project 2010ktag:www.karianna.us,2010:/blog//1.10722010-01-26T18:51:18Z2010-02-16T18:05:10ZIt has been rainy out. So rainy that if I didn't have a 10k on Saturday, I'd probably not consider running in the wet weather. If I hadn't already signed up for the race, I'd probably not. But I figured...Kariannahttp://www.kariannaspectrum.com
It has been rainy out. So rainy that if I didn't have a 10k on Saturday, I'd probably not consider running in the wet weather. If I hadn't already signed up for the race, I'd probably not. But I figured this would happen, so planned ahead.
Presenting - Project 2010k.
This year I plan to run at least a 10K per month. That's right, for 2010, I'm running at least 12 races 10K or longer. I include the "and longer" because I am currently signed up for two half-marathons (and thinking about a third and a fourth for later in the year; but I'd like to see what happens with the first two before I go chuck my bucks.) I'm not sure whether I'll be able to manage both a 10K and a half-marathon during the same month (both time-wise and body-wise.)
January's race is this Saturday (yup, squeezing it in right at the end!) I've already done one race this year, but it was a New Year's 5K, so it doesn't count towards my Project 2010k.
So there you have it -- a public declaration of my intentions. Hope it keeps me accountable!]]>
Late to Schooltag:www.karianna.us,2010:/blog//1.10682010-01-15T16:33:12Z2010-01-15T16:59:10Z Splig forgot his shoes. Let's go home to retrieve them! Construction delay. Why was I the van chosen for such a privilege to lead up the line? STOP sign to stop me, long line of traffic behind. Let's just...Kariannahttp://www.kariannaspectrum.com
Splig forgot his shoes.
Let's go home to retrieve them!
Construction delay.
Why was I the van
chosen for such a privilege
to lead up the line?
STOP sign to stop me,
long line of traffic behind.
Let's just move this pole...
Ten minutes later,
finally back at our house,
now where are the shoes?
Splig seems sad but smug.
He got to skip Spanish class.
Plus, more time with Mom!
]]>
What I Did Last Nighttag:www.karianna.us,2010:/blog//1.10672010-01-13T18:48:59Z2010-01-15T17:00:48Z You know whose dress this is, don't you?...Kariannahttp://www.kariannaspectrum.comYou know whose dress this is, don't you?
]]>
My Brain is Out to Lunchtag:www.karianna.us,2010:/blog//1.10652010-01-11T18:47:45Z2010-01-15T17:01:11ZThursday afternoon the Cat asked me, "Are those chips okay?" and I had no idea what he meant. "You know, I figured the cheese wouldn't be okay, but I ate the crackers that came with them." he continued. It wasn't...Kariannahttp://www.kariannaspectrum.com
Thursday afternoon the Cat asked me, "Are those chips okay?" and I had no idea what he meant. "You know, I figured the cheese wouldn't be okay, but I ate the crackers that came with them." he continued.
It wasn't until I emptied the boys' backpacks that I saw what happened: I had swapped the Cat's and Splig's lunches. Yes, the crackers the Cat ate technically weren't "approved" but I was glad he didn't eat the neon yellow cheese. (Yes, I sometimes feed Splig the artificial stuff to which the Cat is sensitive.)
The next morning I was extra-careful. Or so I thought.
Splig complained that his backpack was really heavy. I dismissed it as being the ranting of a melodramatic kindergartner who wanted the school week to be over.
But when the kids got home from school, the Cat told me he was starving. And why didn't I give him a lunch?
Yup, you guessed it -- somehow I put one lunch in Splig's front backpack pocket, and one lunch in Splig's back backpack pocket. And no lunches in the Cat's backpack.
This morning, Splig stayed home (still feverish) so I certainly hope that I put a lunch in the Cat's backpack. I admit I nearly put it into Splig's, though.]]>
How Quickly They Fall - and Reboundtag:www.karianna.us,2010:/blog//1.10632010-01-10T21:22:14Z2010-01-15T17:01:35ZFor those of you who are forced to watch SpongeBob, remember that song "It's a Per-FECT Daa-aay!"** ? Well, Splig was pretty much singing that tune on Friday. (** Turns out SpongeBob is "It's the Best Day Eeeee-ver!" while the...Kariannahttp://www.kariannaspectrum.com
For those of you who are forced to watch SpongeBob, remember that song "It's a Per-FECT Daa-aay!"** ? Well, Splig was pretty much singing that tune on Friday.
(** Turns out SpongeBob is "It's the Best Day Eeeee-ver!" while the "It's a Per-FECT Daa-aay!" is like Hannah Montana or something else in that genre. Yikes!)
All week he had been eagerly anticipating a box of Star Wars figures, a late-arriving Christmas present. Each day, his head hung with disappointment. On Friday morning, the package arrived while Splig was at school. I opened it up, and put the contents in a box by his seat in the van.
When I picked the boys up from school, Splig spoke a mile a minute about how PERFECT his day had been. He won BINGO at Spanish! He made a snowman at school! His hot lunch was the! best! ever! He made a cool art project at after-care! He won at Hot Lava Monster! He was so excited, and told me he didn't get into any trouble, "not even tiny trouble!" As we approached the van, I knew he'd explode with happiness over the box of Star Wars dudes.]]>
very bad, evil Girl. I am so glad you are here." I couldn't help laughing but I also wished I had a video camera pointed at him to capture his sweet little high-pitched voice and his wide-eyes and happy grin.
His day even improved from then. As he recounted his activities to his dad, he punctuated each sentence with "And then!" and a little sigh of complete bliss. "I got an A-plus at gymnastics!" he told his father, after talking about the amazing day at school and the glee of getting his Star Wars guys. "Only three people got A-plusses, and I was one of them!"
He didn't want to go to bed Friday night. He didn't want the perfect day to end.
Yesterday he awakened, tired, but eager to go to his first indoor soccer game. He smiled, but was definitely not as perky as the day before. I went off with the Cat for his basketball game, followed immediately by soccer clinic.
When the Cat and I arrived back home, Spliggle was passed out on the couch, face bright red. Apparently he fell asleep in the car after being quite a zombie during the soccer game. He was, though, a zombie who scored a goal.
He had a fever, and spent the majority of the day curled up on the couch (of course grasping a Star Wars figuring for comfort.) Occasionally he'd perk up enough to play Mario Kart Wii or something, but once the Tylenol wore off he'd be a bundle of fire again.
This morning he missed a birthday party he was really looking forward to, and since both Husband and I felt pretty ikky as well, the Cat missed soccer clinic. (The Cat is not sick - so he got the Family Room to himself all morning while the rest of us slept and moaned.)
Magically, Splig soon awakened to join the Cat out front while Husband and I stayed sick. (Husband then got up and was freakishly productive, while my brain has yet to catch up.)
It appears Splig is on the mend, which is great. Who knows? Maybe Monday can be a "perfect day" for him again. (Or perhaps it is the Cat's turn?)
--
Above right (this afternoon) The Cat made Splig a crown so he could be "King Boo" on Mario Kart. Splig is pretty happy and awake now. Above left (yesterday afternoon)This a Splig is sick, but snuggly.
Disclaimer I get a couple pennies if you happen to purchase anything through Amazon after clicking the link to "Mario Kart Wii"]]>
While the Tiarathon was a complete blast for me, and for the majority of the Shredheads, it was an unfortunate "bust" for our dear Shredhead Her Bad Mother, who passed out the evening before the race, so made the prudent decision to sit out the half-marathon.
While there will always be other races, and it is definitely best to take care of oneself rather than pushing hard into an endurance event when the body is spent, this particular race had great significance for Catherine, and for her nephew Tanner.
Please visit Her Bad Mother to get a feel for how heartbroken she is to have not been able to do this event. You see, she's been training hard in her nephew's honor, and has pledged "100 Miles for Tanner." Disney is of course a magical place, and she would have wanted to run amidst the fairy dust.
In solidarity with Catherine and in honor of Tanner, Kristen has set up Tutus for Tanner. Instead of one race run in Tanner's honor, we're going to spread the effort such that anyone can run a race in Tanner's honor - just don your tutu and you're good to go!
I never thought I'd be running a trail race in a tutu, but I'll do just that, at least twice. Of course, there will be a few races for which a tutu will fit right in nicely, like the next time I do Disney (I'm contemplating doing the Disneyworld one in September - but the half-marathon this time instead of the 5k) and I'm doing San Francisco's Bay to Breakers, an event that always has excellent costumes (and nudity.)
Head on over to Tutus for Tanner and join the fluff, for a subject that is most definitely not chintzy. ]]>
On Sunday I completed the "Tiarathon" - otherwise known as the Disney Princess Half-Marathon. I must admit I'm in shock a bit that it is over.
After all, it was about a year ago that I started the 30-Day-Shred with the Shredheads community, and about a month and a half later that I reluctantly decided to climb on board to the whole "let's run a 5K" madness. As I looked for a race that would be fun and magical, I came across Disneyland's September race, but also noticed Disney World's Princess Half-Marathon. "Hey, maybe we'll be ready for a half-marathon in March 2010!?" I somewhat joked to my fellow newbie runners. After all, March 2010 seemed soooooo far away.
And now it is over.]]>
It really was amazing. It was easier for me than the half-marathon I did at the start of February. My reason for doing that first one was to psychologically prepare myself for the Disney half, and it worked. I went into the Disney race knowing that I'd finish, and finish well before the "golf cart of shame" sent for people who fail to maintain a 16min/mile pace.
Sure, the 20 minute walk to the start line was freezing, and my foot fell asleep halfway through the race, which presented a challenge, but overall the race was pure magic. Disney characters cheered us on (or drunkenly fell into us, like Captain Jack Sparrow; or yelled at us to get moving, like the Toy Story green army men.) Running through the Magic Kingdom was... magic, naturally, and bounding through Cinderella's Castle would have been a great photo if the photographer wasn't pointing his lens elsewhere.
By chance I received a sparkly-tiara cap from Disney - although I'm wishy-washy on whether shiny (unbreathable?) black is a good choice for a race. On one hand, I want the sparkle and sun-shade capabilities of the cap -- and on the other hand, I'm not sure if my head will freak out and want to breathe. So, thank you so much Disney, but I think I might wear the cap during the rest of the weekend and let my head breathe during the actual race? Yes, I'm undecided on this one, but ain't it beautiful?
Alas, I cannot find my actual tiara. I have some little tiara hair combs and I have a sparkly headband, but my actual tiara is somewhere in this house, hiding. I even had a dream about finding it, but since the location of the dream was fictitious, I cannot translate it to real life.
But, I know what matters isn't what I am wearing, but rather my ability to complete the race.
Let's say that on one hand, my mind is blown that I'm actually going to run a half-marathon a week from Sunday. I am double-ly blown that this will occur at Disneyworld (I've never been!) and that an offhand "Hey, let's run this princess race" comment nearly a year ago has resulted in a huge group of people making the trek. (Thanks to Kristen for rallying the Shredheads for the occasion.) But on the other hand, I ran a half-marathon at the start of February, and last week completed a personal record in a 10K race, during which I ran the whole time. Yup, that's right - no walk breaks. So I know I can do the half in a week. I know it. And yet, I'm scared.
I'm nervous because I'll be running with people who I know are going to finish before me. I have some envy because I wish I were that fast. And yet, I know that to finish is a huge accomplishment! A year ago, I was sick with the whole chest-congestion thing, and as I saw "Shredheads" buttons pop up on people's blogs, laughed because I wasn't getting off the couch anytime soon. But then I joined the Shredheads in mid-March, completed the shred in exactly 30 days, and with a huge dose of reluctance, started to run.
As of today, I've run five 5K races, four 10K races, and a half-marathon. Come April, I'll have added another half-marathon, another 5K and another 10K to the tally (fingers crossed that I have no injuries!) At the end of the half-marathon a few weeks ago, I hobbled to my car, but also knew that the Tiarathon is Possible. (An added "bonus" is that since my car was over a mile away from the race - and I had to sprint to the bus bound for the the start line - I traveled over 15 miles on foot that day.) And last weekend, I ran for 6.2 miles straight, and felt invincible at the end.
I am slow. Even when I run without walk breaks, I am slow. But I get it done. I sound like a crazy preacher when I exclaim that if I can do it, YOU can do it.
Next weekend is going to be a challenge. I am already jittery thinking about it. But this anticipation and feeling of "I can do it!" is exactly why I set this goal in the first place.
Now if only I can find my tiara...
--
The glass slipper with running-tread is from Disney's Princess Half-Marathon website.]]>
]]>
Last May, my then-second-grader took his first STAR test. And then this autumn he took the OLSAT. He's also taken some other assessment tests here and there, and one recent exam prompted the teacher to say she didn't believe the results because so many of her otherwise high-achieving students seemed to have scored low. She then mentioned that the computer teacher who gave the tests provided heavy incentive to finish quickly. Rushing through an exam does nobody favors.
I remember the whole standardized test ritual fondly. Sure, we parents moan about how it isn't really an accurate assessment of our kids, and wonder how schools can be given funding based on a number. We worry about cultural differences and how sometimes a very intelligent student might get an answer incorrect because he or she recognizes nuances in the question that the very people who created the exam may not have. Most of all, we worry about "teaching to the test;" the fact that an education based on multiple choice has little to do with the real world.
But I thought it was fun.]]>
Smart kid!
Well, I realized as I grew up that I wasn't quite as smart as those test might imply. In terms of "life skills" I had a lot to learn.
Nonetheless, it was with pride that I saw today that my third grader is a smart kid. Sure, we knew that. But every parent believes their child is the Absolute Top. And funny how in some ways, saying "yeah, my kid tested high" is almost as much an "admission" than mentioning other sorts of "labels" or revelations that a kid had speech therapy or has some sort of weakness (as all kids do.)
Meanwhile, the state of education in California remains in flux. In an ideal situation, all kids could learn according to the modality that works the best for their strengths. All kids would be encouraged according to their interests. Those who need an extra push in some areas could be given that training. Those who need enrichment can be provided that extra stimulation. And those "twice exceptional" (with learning differences, yet high intelligence in other areas) could be seen for what they are, rather than "above average plus below average equals average" such that they end up bored in some areas and overly-challenged in others.
I don't have an answer to the budget crisis. I have no idea how to accommodate for all the different learning styles, strengths, weaknesses, and interests of individual kids. And I certainly don't know how to value "life skills" in the midst of the whole stew.
But with a maturing third-grader who seems pretty sharp (both on paper and in practice) and a charismatic kindergartner who has his own strengths and weaknesses, I can't help but worry a bit. Like every parent, I hope my kids will learn, grow and be "nurtured" (but also challenged) in the most appropriate way.
It is a tough equation.]]>
As we began, my legs immediately locked up. I couldn't believe it. Usually the first mile is annoying as my body warms up, but at least I run. But this time, my legs were heavy. The first part of the course was fairly flat, straight, and not-muddy, but my legs just didn't want to participate. I started to walk. Hey, I've got 6.2 miles, no hurry I figured. I ran a little, walked a little, ran a little, and was just not feeling the happy.
When the 5K turn-around arrived. I seriously considered just turning around with them. But I trudged on ahead, towards the unknown. I went past some trees, and then made a big turn to reveal my challenge.
What I saw were hills. Hills. Straight-up hills. Slimy, muddy hills.
People lost shoes. People fell down. We laughed as we climbed up sideways to prevent losing our progress. I grabbed trees when I could. We ran on the little bits of grass on the side of the trail, yet I feared going too far to the side because of some relatively unfriendly-looking drop-offs.
Once a major set of hills was complete, I saw yet another set, but this time they were dry. At the top, I audibly gasped, "Beautiful."
I had started in a valley. And now I was on top of a high hill. I could see many miles away. I was stunned at how tiny everything was below. I was down there! I realized.
I could actually picture myself running in some T.V. commercial about "getting outside" or "freedom" - a lone person running on the top of a rolling hill, under a blue sky. Of course I'm sure my form isn't so graceful as I pictured it, but I felt so free and powerful for that moment.
For that moment. Because of course the mud returned. And the cows, naturally - although they were really just scenery. None of them got angry. One did come very close to the trail, but I just kept running.
(The cameraphone pictures: Left: Some of the easy rolling non-muddy part of the course. The little dot is a cow. Right: The view -- everything is tiny from way up here! )
Of course what goes UP, must come DOWN.
While I did really well at not falling during most of the downward portions, one enormous hill finally forced me to take a tumble. And then another.
Finally I reached a straight portion and an aid station where the gentleman quipped, "Just another mile or so to go!" I smiled wide. I figured I just had to run back to the finish line. I could hear the finish-line music. I thought it was just a flat "go back to where you began."
Instead, I entered a mossy forest.
It was gorgeous in a different way than the hills had been. This time, it was dark and damp, bright-green mossy trees, and no kidding - a CREEK in my path. (Yeah, the race was called "Bear Creek" so I guess the whole "OMG I have to run through a creek!" shouldn't have been a surprise.)
The forest portion of the trail was single-file. That's scary with slippery mud, but most of it was packed down nicely. I kept going UP and DOWN and AROUND and AROUND. I could still hear cheers and other things from the finish line, so I didn't think I had far to go. And yet, the last portion of the trail was straight down, and then straight back up. I could see the spectators above me, but I was at the bottom of the darn creek. I never would have guessed that the race start would end up being at the bottom of one part of the race, but at the top of the finishing part.
I did all the little switch-backs to finally make it up the incline. And with a tiny portion of flat pavement, gave a kick (yes! I really did!) and finished!
This is going to be my Big Fish Story forever, I think. I can't believe I did it. It was the hardest, and yet most beautiful race (or hike, or walk) I've ever done. It was amazing on so many levels.
The kooky thing of course, is that afterward I felt simultaneously invincible --and ready to just curl up in a ball.
So I think I'll go rest... but only for a moment!
--
The Race Director wrote on Saturday night : "We don't need to tell you that it was a wild and woolly day on the trails today! The late rains of Friday night turned what were already tough trails into an all-out "mudfest" in many sections. Any question about whether you were a hard-core trail runner has surely been blown to smithereens!"
Hard-core Trail Runner. I like the sound of that!]]>
His day even improved from then. As he recounted his activities to his dad, he punctuated each sentence with "And then!" and a little sigh of complete bliss. "I got an A-plus at gymnastics!" he told his father, after talking about the amazing day at school and the glee of getting his Star Wars guys. "Only three people got A-plusses, and I was one of them!"
He didn't want to go to bed Friday night. He didn't want the perfect day to end.
Yesterday he awakened, tired, but eager to go to his first indoor soccer game. He smiled, but was definitely not as perky as the day before. I went off with the Cat for his basketball game, followed immediately by soccer clinic.
When the Cat and I arrived back home, Spliggle was passed out on the couch, face bright red. Apparently he fell asleep in the car after being quite a zombie during the soccer game. He was, though, a zombie who scored a goal.
He had a fever, and spent the majority of the day curled up on the couch (of course grasping a Star Wars figuring for comfort.) Occasionally he'd perk up enough to play Mario Kart Wii or something, but once the Tylenol wore off he'd be a bundle of fire again.
This morning he missed a birthday party he was really looking forward to, and since both Husband and I felt pretty ikky as well, the Cat missed soccer clinic. (The Cat is not sick - so he got the Family Room to himself all morning while the rest of us slept and moaned.)
Magically, Splig soon awakened to join the Cat out front while Husband and I stayed sick. (Husband then got up and was freakishly productive, while my brain has yet to catch up.)
It appears Splig is on the mend, which is great. Who knows? Maybe Monday can be a "perfect day" for him again. (Or perhaps it is the Cat's turn?)
--
Above right (this afternoon) The Cat made Splig a crown so he could be "King Boo" on Mario Kart. Splig is pretty happy and awake now. Above left (yesterday afternoon)This a Splig is sick, but snuggly.
Disclaimer I get a couple pennies if you happen to purchase anything through Amazon after clicking the link to "Mario Kart Wii"]]>