And on that early February morning, there was smoke. And all that goes with it. And my in-laws were wakened by firefighters rousing them in time to get away from the danger.
By the time I arrived on the scene, hours later, all the flames were extinguished. The smell of smoke hung thick in the air. Water from the hoses still swamped the weathered tile. Where there had once been weddings and birthday parties and rehearsal dinners and showers, there was now charred wooden beams and fallen insulation. Memories of what used to stand.
I have never thought of fire as one of my fears but I still didn’t need to linger long in that space. I didn’t want to remember it that way. The very sight of the destruction just repulsed me.
I watched our family review the scene. My daughter was immediately shaken. “Things can be replaced, people can’t” I said, over and over again. I meant it. But that didn’t change the feeling of loss. It is hard to see a place with that many memories just go up in smoke.
Now the work of rebuilding begins. I try to frame it as an opportunity – it will come back better than ever. In the mean time, our family schedules and rhythms shift. Some of us have to be sure to get our steps in when it used to come through the course of work. Sleep interruptions are more frequent. Minds race with very different concerns than before.
I am reminded to be grateful that everything can be fixed. And to appreciate what we have while we have it. And especially, to appreciate who we have while we have them.
I’ve been thinking a lot of growth lately. Not physically growing like increasing my waist size. I’m thinking more like overall development in multiple areas of life.
Trying new foods for example. Over the past few months I’ve been wanting to increase my daily protein intake. I’ve dialed into various resources to get some hints and best practices. A few takeaways to share:
Compounding protein. Find what you like and increase the dosage. 3 ounces of ham? Just double it. Yogurt, double it. Maybe find a sugar-free Greek version you like. Maybe even a yogurt drink. Mix it up if you can. For me this was a growth area, learning new ways to meet my protein objective for the day.
Aging. Not always a fun topic to discuss for folks my age as there are many trials and tribulations associated with those around the 50-year-old mark. However, I’ve been learning new things. I’ve learned to enjoy road tripping in a RV which is in itself a skill to master. Then I flip the switch to my youngest child who is turning 18. The growth going into adulthood is so much different yet full of learning opportunities for both the parent and the soon-to-be adult. New jobs. Legal responsibilities. Taxes. Higher education. Bills. The list goes on and on.
New environments. This summer I opted to play a new sport: pickleball. Never played before. Never watched a match in person or on TV. I fell in love with the concept of learning. Meeting new people. Stepping into a new arena of sorts. Challenging myself to be better. To learn new methods. To learn the lingo. All in all it was a great experience socially, physically, and cognitively.
Attire: we all have our basic go-to items. The favorite jeans. The sweats. The leggings. The favorite shirt. In the past few months I opted for a short in a color I absolutely never wear. I chose a couple of button-up shirts that are really not my style but definitely fun to wear on occasion. I mixed up a stable go-to outfit with something new and some old to change up the look a little. These little modifications represented growth to me. Oddly different growth than many may celebrate but for me it was growth in my own way.
Patience: mastering and remastering my patience muscles. This is serious growth. Dealing with kids who keep coming back for x, y, and z requires patience and patience on steroids sometimes. Adjusting to work / life balances as you hit the empty nester milestone. The golden years. The muscles that need flexing dealing with changes in partners / spouses or other complicated family dynamics. As we age we must undergo a serious re-haul of our patience muscles, more than once.
As a reflection person, I like to celebrate moments like these. Small as they may be to some, they were valuable enough for me to share on here. With that being said I challenge you to self-reflect and think about your own growth.
Have you challenged yourself to climb a new mountain?
Have you decided to take a trip of a lifetime to a new destination?
Have you decided to take a leap of faith and try something new?
Have you been thinking about betting on yourself? Go for it! You will never grow if you stay stagnant. You will miss opportunity after opportunity. Don’t just put a toe in the sand. Run into the ocean and get wet. Get wet in life. That’s when you grow!
The CrossFit Ranch. The Original Proving Grounds. Home of the first CrossFit Games. Owned by Dave Castro. Even though I do a lot of my fitness outside of my CrossFit gym, I am a huge Dave Castro fan. I love his CrossFit announcements. His esoteric clues. His persona.
When the opportunity came to visit The Ranch for an event, I was all in. I missed it last year due to a scheduling conflict, but this year I was going to make it work.
It was a celebration of sorts, leaving school directly after the last day of my 10th year as a teacher. A long flight across the country. Renting a car and making the drive. To save on what was already a splurge of a trip, I bunked in with a group of women I had never met or even interacted with much. But, we are all part of the same online fitness community. They turned out to be pretty low key and kind. A group no one would have ever brought together but we were all in it for the adventure.
A 30 minute drive to the Ranch in the morning and we were into our weekend of fitness fun. Signed in, got our swag bag, and dove right in to the first event.
Called “Climb Every Mountain,” it started with a 1 mile run. After that, you did a mile ruck / sandbag carry up the infamous CrossFit Ranch hill. I was the slowest of my heat on the run, but I was smiling and taking in the sights, meeting the people I’d only seen on the screen at the turn around points. Once I got back, I had to choose my weight. I could choose 20, 40, or 60 pounds (or more) to carry…or go with no weight. My home sandbags are 25 and 35 pounds, so I decided to challenge myself with 40. I had done a lot of weighted walking in May, so I felt pretty good about it as I started. It didn’t take me long to realize that the 40 pounds combined with a seriously steep hill was going to be a heck of a challenge. I quickly got to the point where I had to just tell myself to walk 50 paces then drop. Walk 50 paces then drop. I thought the hill would never end. But, I was determined to make it to the top, and make it to the top I did. No time cap on this event so as long as I kept going I knew I would finish. True to fitness fun form, a special surprise guest waited at the top of the hill behind a tree. Yes, I screamed when he jumped out, but then I laughed and had a quick photo opp.
The trip down to the bottom was treacherous with the sandbag, but little by little I made it to the finish line. The smile when I saw my team captain cheering for me at the finish line said it all.
The rest of the weekend was all about fitness and connection. I met scores of wonderful people, all at different points in their fitness and life journeys, all challenging themselves to work hard and be joyful. I picked up heavy strongman and husafell bags. I pushed enormous sleds with a team. I muscled through a long chipper. We ate, danced, and fitnessed together.
The weekend ended with a final climb of the hill. Everyone in attendance climbed together. We carried notes where we had written some things we were going to leave behind on that relentless hill. I wanted to leave behind my fears. My worries about what anyone else thinks. My concerns about failure. We got our hug and challenge coin for the climb, then burned those fears in a fire pit. It was a satisfying end to a weekend of fitness.
What was the best part? Was it meeting so many of the community’s “celebrities” (or really they’re sort of everyday heroes to me)? Meeting them in person, I see that they are sincere in what they believe. They are dedicated to family, fitness, and the belief that we can all be well. They live out their mission. Or maybe it was making new friends, enjoying meals together, morning meditative walks on the beach…really there are too many good memories to list here.
Here’s my takeaway: in the end, no one but you has to understand or approve of what you’re doing. Did people tell me I was crazy? Sure. Did someone close to me chuckle as they asked if I was traveling all the way across the country to exercise? Absolutely. Did those doubters make me do a double take? Maybe for a second. But whose approval ultimately matters? Me. I am SO glad I did it. And I would totally do it again.
So when people look at you like you’re crazy, carry on. In the end, the collection of experiences and memories you have is up to you. No one else can climb the mountain set before you. If something is calling you, answer.
Recently I got a chance to reflect on a few variations of those in supportive roles and the value of such roles.
At my recent competition two families had young adults supporting their parents at the competition. They could have done other things but they instead chose the supportive role. It meant a lot to the participants and it reconfirmed the already strong bond between young adults/parents. The value of this support can’t be overlooked.
Then there was the photographer at the event. The unpaid position that captured amazing moments for many who couldn’t take their own photos because they were in action. This support role provided joy to some and a replay of efforts for those who like to take note of good or bad points in their performance. A job nobody really signs up for but everyone wants the benefits of.
The concession stand worker at the local sporting event. An unpaid job. One that takes a person away from maybe watching their own kid or socializing with other parents. The last job anyone really wants to volunteer for. Yet despite the lack of participation on the volunteer side, many are ready to buy, eat and complain if things are not perfect. Thus the concession stand volunteer is the unsung hero. The thankless support role.
The parent. The guide. The nuturerer. The lecturer. The disciplinarian. The enforcer. The constant support role. Despite the importance of the role, it’s probably the bottom of the food chain on any given day. The volunteer role that comes with no instructions.
When I sit back and think about any support role, I think of thankless jobs. I think of how we should all be more grateful to others who give time to any support role. A coach, for example. The food pantry helper. The people who help put smiles on the faces of others because of the support they give.
Take a look at your day. Your week. Your environment. How many supporters do you have around you? Have you thanked them lately? Do you in turn support others?
I recently went to cheer on a friend for a tennis match. It was a new vantage point. For me as an observer, it was a fun time to just watch and cheer for another. It meant something to the person that asked me to attend and thus made the time worth it. Supporting others can can be rewarding for both parties.
I think years ago I was less supportive as an individual than I am today. In time I have matured to focus on others before self. The fact that I write about this confirms my growth in this area. It also implies my intent to help others realize the benefits of supporting others. Give it a try.
I’m in the last first or first last of many things with my youngest child. The caboose of the family. The last first hurdle to adulthood. The last year of high school. Life with a senior. The to-do list is so very long yet I feel like I will blink and the time will be gone. Memories will remain but the chaos I once enjoyed will now be all hers. Soaring solo or just without mom and dad. Why does it seem harder with a girl? With an athlete?
Last first trip of summer.
Last first flight for the season.
Last first summer tournament.
Last first parking lot adventure.
First last event.
First last adventure.
First summer job to juggle in the mix.
First of many solo flights to new places.
Last first trip to Baltimore, Maryland. I certainly won’t miss the rental car hub in this town. The long bus ride. The long lines. Just won’t mind missing this destination each summer. I’ll gladly trade this spot for a tropical paradise. That means as she finishes her last firsts, I begin to see how my new firsts will come to light without the have to’s of summers on the go with kids.
First of many goodbyes to players and families we have spent years traveling with. Those we even see at the events from other states. Some girls have trips that conflict with the hectic summer schedule. Some have changed their priorities from sports to other interests. Some have jobs that won’t give time off for travel. Most of the girls will go different ways their last year of high school and then to different colleges. Some may never really be social again. While others may be new besties. So many emotions. So many changes on the horizon. So interesting to observe.
Wrapping up one journey. Starting many new firsts as you end many last firsts. I knew these days were coming yet I had no idea what each would feel like. This last first was a little gut punch. Each meal seemed different. Each car ride the chats seemed more forward-focused. I had no idea how the experiences would be different. A coach summed it up today with: Take the picture. Smile for the picture. Celebrate. Have fun. Both kids and parents should savor this time before it’s history. These moments won’t be here again. Enjoy this time.
The girls look older this summer. More womanly. Experienced in ways I can’t explain but it carries to their gait. To their spoken words. To their plans ahead. The conversations have changed from what college to who their perfect roommate will be. What the dorm room decor will be. Where they must travel to for spring break. What they need to do solo on their final summer. I can’t lie. It’s fun to watch. It’s an experience I will cherish.
What powerful words to think about. 18 years of building. 18 years of momentum. Then what? A shift. A realignment of sorts. I have one foot on gas and one foot on the brake. I want to freeze time yet I want to speed up time to see what’s next. It’s not my life but I’m still going to be cheering. I’ll also still be there ready to wash the stinky socks. Pack food for the dorm room. And just whatever is asked of me. Because I still want to be a part of the chaos.
To explain life in this moment is hard. However as part of being honest in posting for our readers it’s a part of life worth sharing. A raw part but one experience I share that may be helpful to another approaching this stage of life. My mini me is almost grown up. She has definitely glowed up. Now just needs to get some independent experiences under her belt to be ready to conquer adulthood.
That first job.
That first paycheck.
That first time spending her money. It hits a little differently. That item might really not be worth it for their money now. I am sure she doesn’t see the view I see and that’s okay. One day she will be in my shoes. For now I’m looking forward to exploring my wide open spaces while I see her enjoy her new spaces and places.
Stay tuned as my months ahead turn into days left before she is off. I’m leaving the journal pages blank for now. Waiting to see what fits in and makes the story book.
2 Chicks and a blog 