Jumpin' Off the Edge

--> I am thankful for my hero. My son, aka Badass MOFO.   A man who chose a profession which took him halfway around the world to protect others, knowing the potential harm to him. This is the second year in a row we will not be celebrating the holidays with him with us. Yet, I wouldn’t have it any other way. This morning I ran a 5K. The worst one I have run all year. My time was super slow. I have had a nasty cold the last couple of weeks. You know the one…achy muscles, stuffed nose, coughing from deep within, and an overall feeling a fatigue. As if the cold wasn't enough, somewhere around mile two something happened to my hamstring. It was about then that Sean first crept into my head. Unbeknownst to him, he kept me running.   At the finish of the race, I made a beeline for massage table. Talk about pain! I did. I talked about it while dancing the Macarena with Sana and Patti. I talked about it when Tony told me about my time (horrible!). I talked about...

Every night before I head to bed, I check facebook. I like to read about what my friends and family are up to. Last night’s posts were about partying, being in love, and good times. And then I read: To All Tomahawk Soldiers and Family Members, The Department of Defense released the name of our 13 Nov fatality this evening. Staff Sgt. Rayvon Battle Jr., 25, of Rocky Mount, N.C., died Nov. 13, in Kandahar Province, Afghanistan. He was assigned to the 38th Engineer Company, 4th Stryker Brigade Combat Team, 2nd Infantry Division, Joint Base Lewis-McChord, Wash. My heart skipped a beat or two. My stomach fell. For Staff Sgt Rayvon Battle, Jr. was not only from the state I now call home, he was also from my son’s company. I have been trying to write this entry for quite some time. I can’t seem to find the words to express what is going on for me right now.   Many were wounded. Is my son one of them? This war has been going on for ten years. In the past, whe...

--> A trail of campaign signs guides the way to the entrance while sounds of last minute reminders of the better candidate ring through the air. There is something magical about voting on Election Day, which is probably why I avoided early voting.   Excitement builds as I walk into the school gym and make my way to the check-in table. Frustration and disenchantment with politics forgotten.             “Name?”             “Mandie Robertson-Victor.” I see her flip to the R’s and realize my name is not there. “Maybe it is under Mandie Victor,” I suggested hopefully. I know I was registered. I did it when I got my North Carolina driver’s license.             “No. There is nothing here.”             My heart sank. I needed to vote. It was my right...

It is hard to believe that is was only seven months ago that I ran 13.1 miles averaging less then ten minutes a mile. Today, that wasn't quite the case. I have been dreading, yet anticipating the Haunted Half 10K. Six point two miles after not running consistently in a very long time. Did I mention the hills? There were lots of them. I hate hills. (I am working on a way to come to love them. Be watching for that lesson.) A late night followed by a very early morning did not help my confidence. The bikes lined up for the beginning of the half-marathon. (You know I am dreaming of the day when I am riding on one of those!) I snapped a picture of Tony ready to run his first half and worked on getting into the zone. Not easy, by the way, when there is a cold wind blowing. Playlist set, I lined up for the race and  was ready for the starter pistol to go off. And then the zombies came. Dancing zombies! Quite a show it was! I was pretty sure I would be joining them at th...

Today at 8:05am, I became the mother of a soldier. Although, according to Uncle Sam, that actually happened sometime in April in 2011. As far as I am concerned, it happened today when my Sean headed off to war. I have never been a proponent of war. I have always hated it. I have difficulty with the concept that death and destruction leads to peace. It makes no sense to me. I see the human side of the men and women entering the battlefield rather than the issue that brought about war in the first place. During Desert Storm, I was a single mother in college in Maine. Sean was a toddler.   When I think back to that time I am back at UMF eating lunch while watching the war. Desert Storm. The first reality show that engrossed us all. (Fortunately, my sailor sister was stationed out of harm’s way in Japan.) I watched in sadness as casualties mounted in Iraq. In between doing homework and motherly duties, I found time to write to friends from high school now in the military.   I...

Today in writing class, we told our story in the form of an encyclopedia. Thus, my blog entry tonight. CIRCUMSTANCES Tragic death of a friend. Surgery of a loved one. Conflict. Vacation. Young adults. All excuses. Yet at the time, all good reasons to stop paying attention to my body. Or so I thought. CROSS COUNTRY It starts in less than a week. I am the coach. A coach that doesn't run? That's how I did it last year. This year, I want to run with the kids. DISGUST Ugh! For the past five weeks a war has been raging in my head. You need to get up off your butt and go for a run. Nah, stay on the couch. It is too hot. You are bound to pass out on your run.   Back and forth the argument went. Cheering on the one side, yet letting the other side win. Letting myself down each time I refused to get up. ENDORPHINS I was hooked on them just a few months ago. I couldn't get my fix often enough. The high that comes after a good run. And then the crash. No running for five we...

It all started while drinking a glass of wine with a couple of  friends on my birthday (the end of December). I just finished telling her I ran an entire 5K without walking on Thanksgiving after not having run for almost two years. “You should do the Shamrock Half Marathon with us! It isn’t until March. That gives you plenty of time!” I went home a bit heady from an evening of camaraderie and a good time. Before I knew it, I paid my $100 and was registered for the race. I downloaded Hal Higdon’s Half Marathon Training for a Novice to my phone and I was ready to go. My first run was a piece of cake – only two miles. (The reality of 13.1 miles had yet to hit.) Signing up for the race put me in the next level of runners. Once I was became a serious runner, I knew I needed a new pair of shoes. Little did I know the marathon I would go through finding the right shoes. The first store I went to sold me a nice pair…albeit too small. Soon the toe pain started. I ran through it...