Running and Grief

Late in the week leading up to the Fort Lauderdale half Matt and I ran, my grandma was moved into hospice. She'd been sick for awhile but had just recently discontinued treatment. I had seen her just the previous weekend with my mom and brother. My uncle told my mom, who told us, that she probably wouldn't last through Monday.

It wasn't a surprise. She'd been battling illness and age; I had made that trip up to see her knowing it would probably be the last time.

None of that made it any easier.

I ran with my phone on Do Not Disturb, aware I might get a text from my mom mid-race and wanting to avoid that possibility. I debated writing her name on my arm for the race, but chose not to. She surfaced in my mind around mile 4, randomly and without any conscious thought or meaning attached. Just Grandma, Grandma, think of Grandma.

As it was, that text I was dreading but kind of expected came about thirty minutes after we finished. Grandma passed right around the time Matt and I crossed the finish line.

She was 90. She was a veteran who died Veterans Day weekend, and for some reason I just keep thinking about that.

Despite having a chance to see her recently, and despite having fair warning, this is still hard.

Death is hard on the living.

Matt and I fly out for her funeral this week. I am not someone who can run while grieving. My grief manifests as numbness punctuated by moments of uncontrollable weeping. Neither of those states is conducive to running. My mind and body want to remain shut down; running makes me feel vulnerable. It brings emotions to the surface. I tend to feel emotionally swamped when I run while sad.

Grandma and her six kids. I love this photo for many reasons, but especially because my mom looks exactly like I did at that age.

Grandma, Grandpa, the six kids + my dad

So, I canceled my runs last week. I took a full week off. I went through the motions of work. I depended on my friends and Matt to get me through, and they really did. I took four days for bereavement this week, and then we have a week for Thanksgiving, and by the time I'm back at work I hope I'll feel a little more with it.

My grandma and I didn't see eye-to-eye on some things, but I know she loved me. I really believe she waited to let go until after she'd seen all her people one last time, and that's why she declined so quickly after our visit. I have photos and heirlooms and recipes and a million warm memories to remember her by.

At my bat mitzvah in 1999.

The first time she met Matt, after we got engaged.

Sometimes it's the littlest things, too. Like, she taught me how to turn a shirt right-side-out when folding laundry in one quick flip to save time. She wasn't Jewish, but she remembered to send me flowers every Passover for our seder. She and grandpa would call and sing happy birthday every year, finishing the song with their own special flair (and am I glad I saved those last couple voicemails or what?!). She always kept M&Ms in a crystal bowl, which absolutely made them taste better. She was a nurse and worked with my grandpa, who was a dentist, and when I was a kid and she let me name the teddy bear young patients held for comfort during cleanings. I still have him today.

As a kid, I loved miniatures and coveted a little ceramic ring box she had. Apparently I asked her once, "Grandma, when you pass, can I have that?" I don't remember this story, but she told it to me the day before my wedding, when she gave me that box and the ring inside, along with a handkerchief I wore in my bodice as my "something old."

My wedding was the last time they visited us in Florida.

Grandma didn't "get" the whole running thing, but she always asked about my races when we talked. She didn't get it, like she probably didn't get a lot of things about me and my generation in general, but she loved me, and she was interested in what made me happy. She only ever wanted me to be happy.

I was lucky to have her for as long as I did, and lucky to have a grandma so full of genuine love.

Nothing about death is easy, but I am taking comfort in the fact that, even if we didn't feel ready to lose her, she was ready to go. I know that now her pain has ended and her legacy will live on.

ABK

Just Quickly

Thank you so much for your kind thoughts on my last post. Obviously last week I took a step back from blogging. Matt's Nana's passed Monday morning, and I went back to work full time last week. Needless to say, I didn't have much energy to spare. I didn't run or workout at all; I just let myself coast for a little bit.

Nana was the matriarch of Matt's family. She kept everyone in line and held everyone together. When Matt's parents divorced, she moved in with Matt's dad and helped raise him and Scott.

Matt's favorite picture - him, Scott, and Nana at school.

She's always been a pillar of strength and love for them. She was unconditionally loving; I never felt scrutinized or sized-up when I came into Matt's life, and she made me feel like part of the family with no strings attached.

She was simply a great woman.

Christmas 2015.

So last week was hard and I took it easy.

This week I'm slowly getting back into a routine. I've run in the mornings before work and have been settling into my new job. I'm really enjoying it! I feel ridiculously busy right now but I like that, and I also feel really useful, which is what I was hoping for.

Tonight we have open house, so I'll be at work until 8:30pm, and students start back on August 10. I'm hoping that as the school year gets underway, I'm able to continue a solid running/cross-training/writing routine.

What are you thinking about?

ABK

International Holocaust Remembrance Day (Or: Why I Teach)

Florida has many faults, especially when it comes to education, but I am proud to work in one of five US states that has mandatory Holocaust education built into the curriculum.

From Wikipedia. Here is our very wordy "standard" for teaching the Holocaust. For once, Florida got it right.

Every January, I scrounge the news for new things to add. There's always something: an aged Nazi, discovered after all these years, that people feel conflicted about putting on trial; graffiti on a Jewish cemetery; rising anti-Semitism in Europe. There are feel-good stories, too, but only on days like today - International Holocaust Remembrance Day.

I undertake this unit with the gravity it's due, and I am never disappointed in the change I see in my students afterward. This year, I had my friend Brittany (who has worked for a decade with refugees in war-torn countries and who has studied the Holocaust and visited the death camps in Poland) come speak to my students to help introduce the unit.

We walked through the timeline of events. We discussed how and why Hitler was able to obtain power. And we took our annual visit to the local Holocaust Museum. We are very lucky - old people retire to Florida, and those old people include survivors of the Holocaust. The museum was started by 7th grade students as a project, and now it's filled to bursting with genuine artifacts and photos donated by those survivors. Many of them come to speak to visiting classes.

Students listening to the toured section of their trip to the museum.

Every year, we hear at least one survivor speak. In 2014, a survivor named Abe Price shared his testimony with us (he was truly the gutsiest man I've met - his story of escape and survival is awe-inspiring), and he passed away two weeks later.

We were the last school he ever spoke to.

My students, grief-stricken, organized themselves, convinced their parents, and - without my knowledge - attended his funeral. They did it on their own. I still choke up thinking about it. They made me so proud.

You can read about Abe's story here. It's truly amazing.

This year, my kids had the chance to hear two speakers: Jacques and Sabine van Dam, who were both children in hiding at the time of the war. Jacques avoided capture; Sabine and her family were discovered and sent to a transit camp. From there, her parents were sent to Auschwitz, and then on to Bergen-Belsen, where they did not survive.

Here is Jacques's story.

And here is Sabine's.

It's hard to look at 8th grade students and know if something has impacted them. They usually initially hide any emotions with bravado and off-color jokes. The day after the trip, I gave them ten minutes to write a reflection of their visit to the Holocaust Museum, and I allotted twenty minutes to discuss questions and reactions.

In all my blocks, we spent our entire 90 minutes talking.

This is why I teach. I see the dawning realization in these young people that the world is cruel, and that they have the power and responsibility to fix it. To make it better for the future. Their absolute confusion about how people can be so ignorant and hateful is refreshing.

All of this is a lead-up to our reading Elie Wiesel's Night and watching various survivor testimonies. All of the instruction is linked to reading, but it's about so much more than that. It's about helping students to become empathetic, tolerant citizens.

I see it everyday. It makes me realize the world isn't all bad.

I know we see so many terrible things in the news these days, and we're facing a terrifying election season this year, but I truly believe our young generations are so accepting and progressive that we really do have a bright future. So the silver-lining of teaching about such a difficult, painful topic? I get the satisfaction of watching them learn and grow and think and question, and I get to see the hope for our future right in front of me every single day.

It truly is a gift.

ABK

5 Reasons to Smile

This week, I'm beginning to pull out of the funk I've been in.

Just to clarify, I'm not wondering why things have been so hard for me lately. For the last few weeks I've been really preoccupied with Archie's death, my grandma's hospitalization (she had a heart catheter put in, then went into sepsis, but is doing better for the time being), and Matt's Nana's hospitalization (she's been dealing with stroke/seizure issues for awhile now). I'm a realist-bordering-on-pessimist, so I was trying to compartmentalize my emotions and it really got the best of me and wore me down. (There was one day that I cried in my classroom during planning, then got it together to greet my kids at the door minutes later. Any teachers relate to that?)

Doesn't it seem like when things fall apart, they all fall apart? (That reminds me of one of my all-time favorite Yeats poems...)

Anyway, I think things are looking up. I'm beginning to get a handle on the storm of emotions I've been dealing with. And that means it's time for some purposeful positivity.

1. LeadingEdge - I applied for a promotional program within my charter school family and was accepted! I'm really excited for this. I'll be training to be a CRT (curriculum resource teacher), and while it means I may eventually be leaving the classroom, I'm excited for the chance to challenge myself and put my skills to good use. A CRT helps train and guide teachers, which I really enjoy doing.

2. Running with Montana - I was in 8th grade when I met Montana, aka Pretty Lil Mudder, but we weren't exactly friends. We reconnected randomly when I saw her in one of my running Facebook groups, among 3000 other members! Small world. We got in touch and buried the past, and this weekend we'll be running a virtual Harry Potter race as part of a long run! There are so many things awesome about this, I don't even know where to start!

For you HP fans out there...can you guess what House I'm sorted into? (I'm not even a little ashamed of my continued love of HP.)

3. Jenn's wedding - My little Jenn is getting married this weekend! With all the kitchen brouhaha going on, I wasn't able to go to her bachelorette party last weekend, but nothing could stop me from being there for her big day. Jenn has been one of my most steadfast friends, and I can't wait to celebrate with her.

Matt and I visited Jenn in Panama for our first wedding anniversary. She's from the Netherlands, so she speaks Dutch, Spanish, and English fluently. Amazing.

4. Lightbulb moment in class - This week I introduced memoir writing to my students. When we begin this project, the kids read an excerpt from Annie Dillard's An American Childhood that's heavy on metaphor. I literally got goosebumps the other day as I listened to a student work his way through the metaphor of the mason jar and then watched as his face cleared and his eyes lit with understanding. That, folks, is what I live for.

5. Furiously Happy - Jenny Lawson, the Bloggess, has a new book out. I loved her first collection of crazy, true stories about her life growing up (Let's Pretend This Never Happened) and was sure I'd like Furiously Happy, especially because it's focused on living with mental illness. Even as an avid reader of her blog, I had no idea how absolutely hysterical it would be! I've been reading it during reading challenge in class and literally laughing out loud. I can't share snippets with my students because it's mostly inappropriate, and they're all totally baffled by my laughter. If you like really random, insane, hilarious, non-fiction vignettes and can identify with having a kooky family, I highly recommend it!

 

So there we go...five reasons to smile this week. And here's hoping next week brings along five more.

What are you smiling about this week?

ABK

The Long Run that Wasn't

I have, unfortunately, enough experience with running-while-grieving to kind of know what to expect. When my beloved dog Toby passed away a few years ago, my first run after her death was supposed to be 7 miles. I walked it in after 3.5; my body and mind just weren't ready for that kind of effort.

I remembered that this time around, but I didn't remember how long it really took me to get back into a running mindset. I skipped my scheduled 12-miler that Sunday. Tuesday I went on a run without a distance in mind. I ended up running way too fast as my emotions fueled me, and then had to walk it in after 2.5 miles. That's okay...I knew that run would just be about getting outside.

I joined Kristin for six miles Thursday morning, but missed my Friday run because I felt absolutely exhausted physically and mentally. Instead I did some free weights.

So my long run this weekend was supposed to be 14 miles, and I got up to go. I had my new Camelbak Circuit packed and ready. I had a route in mind. I knew it was supposed to pour around 8am but thought I could at least get a couple hours in.

Typical Florida weather I guess.

I prepped an assortment of food for the run. The Circuit held it all nicely, and still had room for my sunglasses.

But no. I just...wasn't there. It was too much time to think. Too much time alone. I kept remembering that Archie's been gone for a week already, and once I got thinking of that I just couldn't go on. I did just over four miles and came home, dejected.

I may go out again tonight and finish the rest of the distance, or, because we don't have school tomorrow, I may try again Monday morning. I don't want to shirk my long runs, but my mind and body just aren't feeling it right now.

I took quite a few walk breaks and my legs never really seemed to warm up this morning. Usually after a couple miles I start to enjoy myself, but today all I wanted to do was go back to bed.

I don't want to cut myself too much slack, and I certainly don't want to use Archie's passing as an excuse, and I don't want to keep thinking about it...But I know the source of this lethargy, and I know I just need a little more time. It still feels fresh. I'll persevere, but I need to be patient and diligent.

As for the Camelbak, I liked it. You can definitely hear sloshing but rather than annoy me, I actually like the rhythm. It doesn't bounce and it holds just enough stuff. Along with all the pockets in my running skirts, I'll never need to wear a belt again! It didn't chafe on this run; we'll soon see how it does on a longer run.

How do emotions affect your runs?
At what point do I just need to suck it up and push on?

ABK

Weekly Report: Dec. 24 - 30

I only got two runs in, which makes sense since this was Christmas-week. Not bad mileage for two measly runs, and this week included my beautiful and calming Christmas morning run.

I was visiting my sister early this week, and needed some time off because of the terrible run I had the other day. A packet of antibiotics later and some time to heal some emotional wounds, and I'm feeling ready for some good running for the remainder of the week. Less than 18 days until my next Half, and I still need to really plan out my resolutions for 2013. Post upcoming on that. Promise!

ABK

Mental Fog

We've all read plenty of articles like this one that exemplify how running can improve mood and even provide a kind of cure for chronic depression. But I've been put in a situation this weekend where my mood has been just...awful. Even when I'm able to think about something besides my grief, my mind feels like it's in some kind of fog. Nothing seems sharp and vital. Everything is dull. And when I finally went out for a run today, it was dull, too, and felt so unimportant and irksome. And while there were many contributing factors - aren't there always? - I had to wonder: does mood affect the quality of the run?

I did some searching on Google, but couldn't come up with an answer. So, completely based on my own experiences, I'm putting forth a hypothesis. I'd love to hear what you think.

Mood	Run Quality	Reasoning
Angry or Anxious	Strong	I know when I’m feeling angry or jittery, my runs tend to be faster-paced, farther distances, and generally stronger. Maybe because my mind is somewhere else, or because all that extra energy is looking for a way out, the miles fly by.
Happy or Fine	Generally Good/Normal	Most of my runs occur when I’m in a fine, balanced mood, and in general my runs are good. So I have to see a correlation there.
Sad or Upset	Crap	For some reason I don’t understand, running when I’m sad doesn’t have the same effect as running when I’m angry. Instead of taking my mind off the issue, it almost magnifies it. Thinking about the problem doesn't make the miles fly by; it instead feels like lead is being poured into every muscle fiber in my body. Being alone with my thoughts is too much mental junk for me when those thoughts are sad, and my runs suffer for it.

Basically what I've found is that if I'm fighting the urge to crawl back into bed, put my head under a pillow, and bawl/sleep in a regular cycle, then I'm not going to be able to complete a run up to the standards I've set. I need to start being more aware of these moods and adjusting my training accordingly. But somehow I always forget that trying to run away my pain, especially when the pain is acute and new and fresh, almost always leads to further disappointment.

I'm glad I went for my run today, but I would feel a lot better about it if I had been honest with where my head was. Instead of trying for 10 miles at midday, I should have set out to do 4. Then I would have reached my goal and felt alright. I need to be more me-focused at this point in my training, because as I'm battling burnout anyway, even the smallest setbacks feel like mountains that need conquering. Right now I'm not even feeling motivated to do my Half in late January. I'm just...fried.

I need a nap.

ABK