Today was the closing ceremonies for the BB&N lower school. Grace has officially graduated from Beginners and is moving on up. I spent the 45 minute ceremony sitting between Stacey and Beth and blinking back tears. Took a ton of pictures most of which were far away and blurry. Each class (B, K, and 1) got up and sang a song, then everyone sang a song together about moving on and that really put me over the edge. I can tell that Grace is aware that we’re at an inflection point – she has picked up on my nostalgia and sadness, and she is a little anxious about saying goodbye to her teachers and her friends. In fact when I met her outside her classroom I had my sunglasses on but she busted me, asking immediately after I opened my mouth: “Mummy? Why do you have a sad voice?” I’m hoping that the couple of weeks before camp will be nice downtime for her. She has already announced to me that she is going to “sleep in” tomorrow because she is “so tired.” We have a couple of mornings of low-key playdates this week, and beyond that nothing planned.

Today Grace seemed so adult, so herself that it made me think ahead to all the years that lie in wait. It made me think of my own mother, and being of being 5, and of many other years; my mind rippled over memories so quickly they went by in a blur. I remembered a moment when Grace was probably 10 days old and Mum came over to sit with her while I tried to nap. I lay in my bed, trying to sleep, listening to my mother’s footsteps upstairs as she walked with my newborn daughter. My mother and my daughter. What a privilege it is to be flanked by two women with such heart, such determination, such predilection towards joy. What a pleasure their sunny spirits are, especially to me, who is so filled with melancholy sentimentality. I hope I can achieve with Grace the same delicate balance of closeness and separation that my mother so elegantly wrought in her relationships with Hilary and me. That she feels, someday, the same deep identification I do with Alice Walker’s wonderful quotation, long one of my favorites:

Guided by my heritage of a love of beauty and a respect for strength – in search of my mother’s garden, I found my own. – Alice Walker

Oh how I wish I could believe this! Instead I am swamped today with insecurity and doubts. I am livid at myself for walking in the race – I honestly can’t get over it and I am then also pissed at myself for being so annoyed about something so small. The squirrel in my brain is running itself ragged on its round treadmill, that’s for sure. It occurs to me that while I am not at all competitive about sports in general I am wildly competitive with myself. I’m a middling tennis player and lousy to play with because I just don’t care about winning. Same is true of card games. I enjoy bridge but my favorite position to play is dummy. How different it is when it’s myself I’m competing with, though – I am shocked at how angry I am that I didn’t do better and that I walked. Dad says its the Puritan in me, which suggests this is inherent and something I can’t change, but if that’s true I think I’m looking at a very long second half of my life!

Well, I did it. Without grace and with some stumbles, but I finished and I achieved my goal of breaking 2 hours. My alarm did not go off this morning so when I woke up like a shot had gone off at 5:40 I raced out the door and hit the road. I made it in ample time (of course) and parked in a wet field before boarding a school bus to the start. The start was at Suicide Six which reminded me of Connie’s stories about learning to ski there.
I bumped into Jon Wakeley and Jodi Slater, who were how I heard about this race in the first place! Jodi was not running but Jon was. Jon and I and his friend Amy sat and waited for the start. It was then that I realized that my feet, shoes, and socks were utterly soaked from the walk from where I’d parked in a field to the bus. That was not a great omen. The gun went off, I zeroed out my special running watch, and off we went.
I ran with Jon most of the way. Jon is an accomplished marathoner who has done half marathons in 1:25 before – but he had bad shinsplints so was ok hanging back with the riff-raff like me. We were pacing about 8:20 for the first 11 miles. Around 11.5 I hit a big wall and slowed down, and Jon went ahead. I just felt like I could not go on and eventually I walked for just under 3 minutes. I feel like such a failure even writing that! But I’m all about full disclosure so there you go. I was amazed at the number of people who urged me on while I was walking – one woman specifically told me I had to keep going because I’d been pacing her the whole way. Two people commented on my tee shirt and one literally swatted my back and said, “come on!” And so I did. My ears were plugged up for the last several miles – no idea what that was about since we weren’t at elevation, maybe it was the pollen.
I ran across the line at 1:56:05 or something along those lines. I ran across, kept walking, grabbed a water, leaned down to take the chip off of my laces, and then started walking towards the car. In retrospect this seems really dumb. I veered into a tent to grab a chocolate chip cookie and a diet coke, and I set out in the vague direction of the cars. I didn’t realize it was an almost 2 mile walk, up a fairly steep hill, but I wasn’t waiting for the bus anyway. I made it to the car, got in, and started to drive. I guess it serves me right that my entire lower back is cramped up and that I spent most of the drive curved over the steering wheel like a hunchback.
Phew! Not quite “hooked” yet and am waiting for the adrenaline I’ve been promised! I am pissed at myself for walking and wish I had finished at 1:53 with Jon. The true damage to my feet is just revealing itself now. But it was a beautiful run, the weather was perfect, and I’m glad I did it.

Throw your heart over the fence and the rest will follow.
– Norman Vincent Peale

I am without inspiration on this sunny Friday … so this picture from last night’s TPT spring dinner will have to do the speaking for me. It was all white jeans save for Steph, as you can see, and Emay and I were unwittingly dressed as identical twins.
The weather has been outrageously perfect and I’ve had a mellow afternoon with the children capped with having to bodily remove Whit from Armando’s after his monstrous behavior reached a fever pitch. Early to bed tonight, soccer and a birthday party for Grace’s classmate tomorrow, and then 5am on Sunday I drive north for the race. I cannot imagine feeling less capable of running 13 miles than I do right now. Exhausted, funny tummy, nervous. Here’s hoping tomorrow is a more optimistic day!