Chris and Miss

My high school track coach called me Melisser, because he always added an “er” to the end of names ending in an “a”.  He stood on the sideline during track meets yelling, “go Melisser!”  He yelled during interval practices, as I was finishing yet another 800m, “kick it in, Melisser!”  I didn’t really think much of it at the time, but now I find myself wishing I could again be strong like Melisser was.

I’ve always like running, from the moment I learned to walk.  I was never the child who preferred sitting in one place, because I was always on the go.  Whether I was running in the backyard, playing tag with my friends, chasing a soccer ball down the field, or dribbling a basketball down the court- I was always running (but not in a Forrest Gump sort of way).  Running wasn’t something I  had to think about, or concentrate on- it was just something I did…something I was good at, that I loved.

After having my second child, I began running again.  At first, it was a shock to my system; following a handfull of years where going for a long walk made my legs itch.  For me, itchy legs is an indication that I am out of shape, as if upon intense movement, the muscles instantly wake up and decide something odd is happening here.  I remember the day I decided to start running again.  I’d been walking for a few months after giving birth to Peyton, and was essentially getting bored, so I started jogging.  It was a nice mile long jog I took that day, at Redondo, overlooking the Puget Sound, along the rickety boardwalk.  I eventually increased my tempo and mileage, becoming comfortable with a three mile run, several times a week.

In 2005- after Chris returned from Iraq- I decided to run a 1/2 marathon in honor of his safe return and my accomplishment for having survived the deployment.  I followed a training plan for twelve weeks before completing the Kentucky Derby Mini-Marathon, in 1 hour and 52 minutes.  I was so excited to cross the finish line, at which point I wanted two things- to find  my family and go to Starbucks.  Honestly, I located a grande toffee nut latte before finding Chris and the kids.  I was so happy to have achieved my goal; so beyond belief ecstatic, and so stinking sore.  My knees hurt, my ankles hurt, my feet- which had been numb for the final couple of miles- were blistered, and I had chafed skin, along my waist line.  Yet, I was happy because I’d finished, and I had the medal to prove it.

Four years later…

I decided to once again run a 1/2 marathon when Chris returned from his second deployment.  I chose the San Francisco 1/2 this time, entered the registration lottery, and got in.  I paid my entry fee and mapped out my training plan.  I’m a consistent runner- always putting in about 4-5 runs each week, so I just needed to up my mileage, particularly for the Saturday long run.

Then I got injured.  Not an injury like when you accidentally twist your ankle stepping off of a curb, or you pull a muscle as you’re lifting weights, or you tear your ACL joint.  No, this was a mystery ache in my left knee, and my right ankle.  They were painful, confusing, and just plain annoying.  My left knee has always had what I like to refer to as, flare  ups.  When I’m putting in a lot of miles, it hurts, I take a couple of days off, use some motrin and ice it, and we’re good-to-go.  This time was different.

My knee began to hurt during my run, following my run, and during the evening as I tossed and turned in bed, in pain.  My ankle hurt primarily while working out.  I tried ignoring the pain for a couple of months- and it continued to worsen…shocking…I know.  I then went to the doctor and was put on naproxen and told to ice it daily.  A couple of weeks later, I was back at the doctor and sent for x-rays.  The x-rays showed absolutely nothing aside from the fact that I have bones in my knee and ankle.  I was sent for an MRI on the knee, which showed bursitis, or swelling of the fluid, behind my kneecap.  I was given a shot of cortisone in the knee, where the most intense pain was located.  A month later, with the pain still ensuing, I went back to the doctor to be referred for Physical Therapy. 

Today will be the start of my fifth week of physical therapy.  Honestly, I am beginning to feel better, yet I still have a long way to go.  I am learning about my running gait, and how my form- which needs improvement- affects my knee.  I am working on my hip muscles, to aid in the strengthening of my knee, and my ankles.  I am receiving electrical stimulation to help relieve my pain, am walking daily, and I am allowed to run once a week.

So, I ask myself, why can’t it be like it once was?  Why can’t I just run?  I miss the days when I chased my brother around our back yard, running until my side hurt.  I miss being able to go for a long run in the neighborhood and not worry that I will be in pain for the next week.  I miss the thought of finishing the 1/2 marathon I’d planned to do, but had to forgo. 

Yet, I know that someday, I’ll be lacing up my running shoes and setting out into the neighborhood with a baseball cap on my head and ipod earphones attached to my ears.  As the wind blows and the occasional raindrop falls onto my face I’ll put one foot in front of the other and think… run, Melisser, run.

I’ve been working on an article for the past hour; basically that translates to alternatively staring at the word document and checking my facebook profile.  For some reason, I am finding it difficult to concentrate, despite the fact that I know what I want to write and I have already written a thousand words- I just cannot focus.  I keep asking myself what is wrong with me…why can I not do this right now?  Then the answer smacked me in the face- it is absolutely, positively, too quiet in this house.

For the first time in months- the house is silent.  Chris has returned to work, as the new S4 of the Brigade.  Maddie is a third grader now, and still reading like a fiend.  She really likes her new teacher and is adapting to the fact that her BFF is in another class this year.  Peyton loves second grade.  He has the same teacher Maddie had last year, and is in the same class as three of his friends.  He is still fairly shy, but each year we’ve seen him come out of his shell more and more.  Ally is enrolled in toddler gym again, although currently, is sleeping soundly in her Dora bed (hence, the reason the house is quiet).  Macy is watching cars drive past the house from her window seat, absorbing the September sunshine.  And I am writing an article- at least, I should be.

The extra-curricular activities begin again this week for Maddie and Peyton.  Peyton will be taking swimming lessons- he absolutely loves to play in the water.  Maddie is continuing with gymnastics, with the hope of going out for the team, in a few months.  In October, we begin Faith Formation and Choir again; and Peyton will be making his First Communion and Reconciliation Sacraments, in the Spring.  Chris and Peyton are all geared up for Cub Scouts, both with aspirations of wearing blue and yellow uniforms, selling popcorn in groceries stores, and going camping. 

I think back on this time last year, believing that I was doing okay taking the kids to all of their activities and getting them off to school with Chris deployed, but now I realize how much they missed out on when he was gone.  Yes, I was able to keep them on a routine and maintain a completely hectic schedule as a single parent, but one crucial component was missing…Dad.  I am amazed at the laughter which has returned to our house, the silliness before bedtime, and the animated conversations at dinner.  I’ve realized that no matter how much I overcompensated for both of us, it was not enough…it would never be enough, because he wasn’t here.  My children simply adore their dad, and why wouldn’t they…he’s the best.

So here we are, back to the grind- back to our amazingly hectic schedule of parenting three active children.  Obviously, I wouldn’t have my life any other way.  I know one day from now I am going to look back and miss the Saturday morning swim lessons, the evening gymnastic/calisthenics sessions, the snuggling up and reading before bedtime.  For now, I get to enjoy it, every crazy and over-scheduled, bit of it.

Now, it’s back to work for me.  Hopefully I can concentrate…it is simply too quiet in this house right now. 

On a side note…I’ve started another blog about our family.  It was an idea by my kids as a way for them to read what I write, as it’s geared toward them.  You can click on the link from this site or go to accordingtomacy.wordpress.com

Chris has been home from Iraq for a month, which just seems so amazing to me.  After an entire year of single parenting and missing him, he is home.  I feel happy just writing that sentence.  I’m not going to lie to you and say that his coming home has been without adjustments, or stress in any way, which simply would not be true.  Just as there was a transition time when he left, we are currently in the midst of transition with him coming home.  Yes, we’ve had our share of disagreements, but we’ve also begun to fall into our old habits; he still gets out of bed at night to sit in his recliner and catch up on ESPN, I still read at least one chapter of a novel before turning off my nightlight, and we still fight over use of the ceiling fan (I only use it when the weather is above eighty degrees, Chris uses it as long as the weather isn’t below thirty degrees.)

Recently, Chris and I were given permission, by our children, to go away for an entire night, to Seattle.  This permission was granted because Ama, my mom, came over to stay with them.  She is actually more fun than either Chris or I are, so I’m thinking if she agrees to it, more date nights could be on the horizon…  After kissing our kids goodbye, at which point Ally said, “I miss you too, Mommy,” we pulled out of our driveway in Chris’ car.  I had a pang of angst upon looking into the backseat and not seeing any of my children, or their car/booster seats.  I wondered, will Ally be okay?  We’ve left Maddie and Peyton before, but not Ally- maybe she isn’t ready for this.  Thankfully, there was nothing to worry about, being that when we came home the next day she was asleep, and after waking up she just looked at us like- oh, you guys are back already.

We drove to Seattle and pulled into the parking garage of our hotel, when I texted my mom to see if the kids were okay.  Chris outwardly rolled his eyes at me, but I could tell he was just as curious, as myself.  Our reservation was at the Marriott in downtown Seattle, on the twenty-first floor.  The hotel room was absolutely beautiful and it was the first one I’d ever stayed in which had a hairdryer that was not attached to the wall- big stuff, let me tell you.  Chris asked where I’d like to go for dinner, at which point I said, “anywhere that doesn’t have a kid’s menu.”

We decided to eat at Daniel’s Broiler, a steakhouse Chris points out to me each time we take the kids to the Pacific Science Center.  He always says, “I’ve heard that place is really good.”  Guess what…there was no kid’s menu.  Our booth looked out onto the Pier, where several yachts were docked, and consequently we had a view of a Hooters restaurant.  Chris always tells me that he’s heard they have great chicken wings, which is probably true, but there is nothing romantic about eating at Hooters.

Following dinner, and a walk around the pier, we decided to go see a movie.  My only specifications were that it not be rated “G”, or something which would give me nightmares for the following month.  Since he technically had picked the last movie we went to, The Dark Knight, last summer- I was given the chance to pick.  I chose The Proposal and we both enjoyed it- well I enjoyed it thoroughly, and Chris enjoyed it a bit.

Waking up in a hotel room and not stressing about getting the kids breakfast before the whining began, was a bit surreal.  I took a shower- without interruption, blow dried my hair- without wondering if the kids had brushed their teeth yet, and walked to Starbucks and around downtown- without a stroller.  I felt completely unstressed and for the first time in awhile, not overwhelmed.  When Chris held my hand, there was no one trying to swing up into the air in-between us, and when we went to the bookstore, I was able to look at books, for myself, before perusing the children’s section.    

Overall, it was a great night.  I had fun, Chris had fun, the kids had fun, and my mom claims to have had fun also.  The kids have even asked when Chris and I are going away again for another date …say it isn’t so.