Disability Soapbox

I've been away for a while traveling with students, contemplating starting a new educational blog and trying to rest as my TSH levels are all out of whack with my ankle. We are also in full volleyball swing so, I've been a little busy.  On our way home tonight Josie and I witnessed something at the grocery store that compelled me to jump on my soapbox!

"Get the manager here right now!  Right now I said!"

This statement came from an older gentleman (and I use that term very loosely) who was pissed off with something that happened to him at the check out line.  He was loud and making a scene when the manager did not come out immediately as requested.  He went on to DEMAND that a manger come out to see him as he has disabilities and "that smart ass right there asked me to move my car!"  The man went on to explain to the entire front of the store that he was a veteran (too bad they didn't teach him respect or social skills), he has diabetes (blood sugar must be low causing him to rant and rave), and he has had vein reconstruction (probably the reason why he needed to park in the fire lane and block traffic).  Oh he also had his mother in the car and his wife, who I'm sure would of been impressed with his vocal protest of his mistreatment. 

The man went on demanding that the manger speak to the offending "smart ass punk" immediately where he could make sure that the employee was disciplined correctly.  That "smart ass punk" asked the man to move his car, parked in the fire lane, blocking traffic, that had no handicap tag when he finished carrying out the man's groceries to his car.  The car was a Lexus SUV by the way and his wife was in the car when we walked by with the bag boy that dared do his job.  That was the offense that required two managers.

Now, I'm all for letting people know that there are problems with their businesses. You can't fix what you don't know about.  I'm also for advocating for people with disabilities.  What I'm not okay with is someone making out that their disability is an excuse to act like an ass!  All the high school kid did was ask the guy to move his car from blocking traffic.  He even loaded the guy's groceries in the back of his car while he called the kid a smart ass.  Even if you're disabled you don't get to block traffic or park in a fire lane.  Those of us with invisible disabilities struggle enough without someone causing a scene because they are offended being asked to follow the law.  Most of the people I know, and work with, who have disabilities don't ask for special treatment or try to draw attention to themselves because of their disabilities.  Most people with disabilities fight to be treated like people without disabilities. 

You can imagine the ranting man's surprise when I walked by and said "Your disability does not give you an excuse to act like a dumb ass!  Get a handicapped tag!  Son, please help me with my bag!"  That at least gave the manager some time to escort the man towards the door and the poor kid who did his job a chance to escape.

I'll get off my soapbox now!

Forced Hiatus From Running

My bad ankle!

At some point in every runner's life they are forced to take a hiatus from running.  Life is too busy, company arrives unexpectedly, you get the flu, or like me, you get an injury.  I am currently on a forced hiatus from the running I love.  My ankle apparently doesn't care that I have plans to complete four more half marathons this year, or run a couple 5k's this summer.  My ankle doesn't care that summer time is the most time I have all year to train and get in real shape to run these races in the fall.  All my ankle currently cares about is getting un impinged, not wearing heels and actually getting back to it's ankle shape instead of the tennis ball shape its been looking like.  I'm sure that tennis balls are a lovely shape, but apparently my ankle does not appreciate being swollen three inches so, I had to take it to the ortho who, after a very painful injection into the joint determined the best course of action was a brace, rest, and some physical therapy.  NO RUNNING until I'm cleared by the physical therapist.

This is not my first forced hiatus from running. I'm also not good at icing and resting.  I haven't been to physical therapy since high school and to say I hated it well, that would be a GROSS understatement.  My experience with physical therapy was painful.  When you look forward to the ice bath at the end of the session, it's a very painful experience.  The ice bath was the least painful experience of the three months of physical therapy so, I was not looking forward to going back for another round. I get impatient, fat and cranky when I don't get to run so not going is not an option my family is going to let me take.

Today was my first session.  I point blank asked if I could run today. The answer was of course NO.  The therapist was very nice and measured my ankles.  The swelling is down to only 1/2 inch.  Good to go I thought, but the therapist watched me walk and stand on one foot, the bad one.  Now, I'm not the most graceful person in the world.  I've even been know to trip over flat surfaces, as well as my own feet, but I hoped once she saw me walk we could move onto a light jog.  No such luck.  Apparently, I've been walking wrong for a long time.  I should propel from the back and balls of my feet.  I turn out and fall heavy, with no propulsion.  It's truly amazing I get anywhere with the way I walk.  I also don't distribute my weight evenly, which is true since the weight gain from not running seems to be going straight to me stomach and butt! That's not what she meant of course so, I spent 15 minutes learning how to walk correctly.  Then I was tested with my balance.  Fun times as balance is not a strong skill either. Standing on one foot is always a little problematic and all I can say is that she at least let me stand in a door frame.  So, when I fell over I'd have something to hit...the door frame all ten times!

The verdict only took about 30 minutes.  No running until I learn to walk correctly.  I have been assigned a half mile walking working up to a mile of walking correctly for the next two weeks before I go back.  I did get a cool gel ice pack to use after these walks. It's a good thing I'll be traveling with National History Day students to DC to take my mind off this forced hiatus from running.  Please pray for patience and pleasant attitudes during this time for me and those around me.  Remember if you see me, I'm having running withdrawals
so be kind!

On My Shirt Tales

First Game! New Team!

The colors may have changed from blue and gold to red, white and blue, but the coaching has not.  Last night was my first night coaching my new team in their first game.  The gym was not unlike the previous gym I coached in- UN-airconditioned.  Unlike my previous team, the girls on my new team have not played volleyball before.  They were volleyball virgins and the teams we played last night had definitely been around the block a few times.  Despite the slaughter that ensued, my new team had a good time and learned a lot about volleyball.  The team enjoyed the hair ribbons and getting ice cream for meeting our goals.  It was the first time that my daughter was also one of my players and other than having to remind myself that she was a Freshman, things went well.

Anyone that has played for me knows that at some point I'll get frustrated with players letting balls fall to the ground.  I particularly get frustrated when balls fall on the ground because girls don't move their feet.  I can only assume that the girls do not know what to do so, I have to show them.  Now, I'm not as young as I use to be, and I currently have an ankle impingement that requires a brace, rest and ice, but the coach in me could not let balls keep hitting the ground due to ignorance.  What's a coach to do?  Well, if its me then some poor girl will be told to grab my shirt tales and move with me.  Last night the girls learned quick that this old lady might be injured and not as quick as she use to be, but she can still move.

They giggled and laughed.  I dragged a few behind me and my daughter just rolled her eyes.  She's seen this done before, usually with a lot of yelling.  She proceeded to warn my shirt tale girls that they better move because I wasn't playing.  I know that it will be a different season than the years of the past.  I'm starting a program from scratch with only one girl that has ever played....my daughter who is the youngest person on the team!  One thing is for sure, there will be more nights of girls trying to keep up holding onto my shirt tales!

Comfort Food

Yesterday was a little rough emotionally and physically.  In the morning I had a corticosteroids shot in my ankle joint and it hurt like hell. 4 inch needle being moved around an already painful joint is not the way most people start the festivities for their oldest son's high school graduation,  but that's how I roll. Dealing with my unhappy mother,  apathic graduating son and an ex - husband who hasn't seen his kids in a year leaves me emotionally raw. When I'm not emotionally feeling my chipper self I want comfort food.

Food is NOT just for stomach nourishment in my house. Food is also nourishment for the soul in my house. We use food to show love. Ever have someone bake you a cake from scratch? It's a little more difficult then the stuff from the store or the box and the dishes it makes...that's love! We use food to comfort hurts both physical and emotional.  I have found taking two fresh, homemade chocolate chip cookies provides as much comfort as any pill.

All that being said, what's one of my all time favorite comfort meals? Well pizza always works, but if someone wants to show me care and comfort, nothing beats breaded baked pork chops,  long grain and wild rice and home made bread or corn muffins (the ones from the Jiffy box, please). I like to chase it with a cold coke or lemon aid. I'm not too picky on the bread or the drink. 

After yesterday's physical and emotional drain I decided to care and comfort myself with that meal. I even made strawberry lemon aid! Due to the draining effects,and now being able to find my ankle bone again, I treated my self to a coke and strawberry lemon aid. Now, some ice cream for dessert and a dark chocolate mint before bed and I should almost be recovered!

Where Do I Get A Life?

Sitting at the soccer field today there were two women about my age discussing their summer plans.
"What is James doing the last week of June?  I need a friend to go to camp with Andrew in North Carolina."
"I can't afford another camp this summer!"
"Oh, I'd pay for James to go."
"That's very sweet of you, but the family is going to Paris for a couple of weeks, starting that week."
The two women then proceeded to discuss traveling to Paris, France with their respective family structures, like it was a common place thing to take a family of five to Paris, France for two weeks in the summer.  Little James will also be attending three stay away camps this summer too.  How do you get a life like that?

As I turned to go to my little station wagon, I noticed I was parked between these two women's SUV's.  There were nice private school stickers on the back of their windows.  Their cars were nice and clean.  There were not coke cans on the floor boards, or wrappers from hurried meals in the car to and from work/practices.  There was no dirt, or the splatters of dead bugs on their windshields because they were out of washing fluid.  These two women did not have sliver highlights showing because I'm sure they can afford for the hair dresser to color their hair more than twice a year. If I stopped in at their houses I'm sure that they have manicured lawns and clean houses because the yard man and housekeeper make sure everything is tidy.  Designer sunglasses and handbags sitting on the grass beside their 50.00 Eddie Bauer chairs and me with a Chick Fil A bag and my phone, catching a few minutes of Elijah's soccer game, before leaving to the every eight week luxury of having a professional cut my hair.  While the teams were warming up I sat there and listened to their conversation with a heavy heart.  These women were leading interesting lives, going places, they had stuff and charities they were raising money for and children who were doing great things.  They have parties and functions to attend that are not work related.

They could of left me alone and I could of listened jealous of their lives but Elijah made a save and then they started questioning me.  Where were we from? (Originally Maine)  What did I do? (Assistant Principal at a High School)  What did my husband do? (Drives a fork lift in a warehouse)  Was that a Mercer Sticker on your car? (Yes, all four of my degrees come from there)  How many kids do you have? (Five)  Is Elijah the oldest? (No he's number 4, the oldest graduates high school in a couple of weeks)  Do you find working and taking care of children difficult? (It has it's moments)  I bet you enjoy your summers off?  (No, I work in the summer. AP's and Volleyball coaches don't get the summer off)  Won't you get to travel somewhere this summer? (I'll be taking some students to DC for National History Day Competition, but other than that probably not)  Camps? (For the kids possibly if I can find a way to squeeze some money from a stone).  I'm sure these questions were not meant to make me feel bad, or inadequate.  The ladies were just trying to converse with an opposing team.  Perhaps they were trying to make me feel welcome.  They were very impressed with Elijah's skills, but they only left me questioning my own life and value in this world.

Where have I gone wrong?  Why is my life not filled with travel, adventure, meaningful contributions to humanity?  Why are my kids not star athletes, gifted musicians, or academic top ten?  Usually I just pass off such comparisons to other people's lives as I have taken the road less traveled and it has made all the difference, but over the last couple days I'm no longer sure about that conviction.  Perhaps its the reality that my children are starting to leave the nest.  My oldest graduates high school in a couple weeks.  He's choosing his own path.  He's opting out of college, taking a part time job at Wal-Mart, and waiting for an opening with the sheriffs department in September.  He didn't take senior photos, and until his grandmother threatened to kick him out of her house if he did not participate in graduation ceremonies, he wasn't going to do that either. His classmates are going to school, winning scholarships and posting pictures on social media thanking their parents.  Their parents are posting those proud parent pictures and touting their wonderful children's virtues.  My oldest has no such inclination and will allow me one (maybe two if I'm quick on the button) photos graduation night. 

Here's the road less traveled for yah!  I get up, I go to work.  If I'm particularly productive I'll run before work.  I help teachers and kids when I can.  I bake (although I'm pretty sure the lemon pound cake in the oven right now will be another disaster, as it is overflowing all over the stove).  I write blog posts that on average 30 people read.  I pay the bills.  I feed my family.  I have three cars, two with over 100,000 miles on them and all in some state of disrepair.  I have two houses.  One we live in that is a mess and one we can't sell, or live in.  I have five relatively, healthy kids that I hope will become happy, productive citizens who remember to call their mom and come to Sunday dinner.  I married my best friend who loves me despite the speeding tickets, the high probability that I will lose my keys for the 100th time, and the constant self doubt I have that I'm good enough for anything I do.  My life is not exciting.  The most exotic place I have traveled to is Quebec City and that was in 8th grade.  Those two women with their charity work, and cars and vacation plans are throwing me into a midlife crisis, if only I could afford one!

I Should of Stayed in Bed and Read a Book

Some days the alarm goes off at 5 am and you know that all efforts to be productive and positive are an effort in futility.  A better idea would be to stay in bed and read a book, have the dog/husband/kids bring you cookies and cokes, take a nice long bath, then go to bed and try again tomorrow. Instead of getting up today, I should of kept my unhappy, unproductive butt in the bed and read Game of Thrones, or Fault In Our Stars, or any book that would take between 12 and 15 hours to read.

I decided to be a grown up and make a stab at being productive and positive.  That's the difference between children and grown ups isn't it? Realizing you have responsibilities and rising to the occasion, even when what you really want to do is hide away in a good book? I knew waking up this morning that living, breathing, talking, people were going to be more than my brain was going to handle in a socially accepted way, but up I got. I showered and shaved my legs! That's both productive and positive so I should of stopped while I was ahead! I even put on my green dress, that's probably a little too tight, so one of my students could have someone to coordinate their outfit with like their peers. That's two points if we are keeping track of being productive and positive! Unfortunately,  those other living, breathing, talking people were expecting a lot more productive and positive than I had left, and I had not even left the house yet!

Got to work and it's the last day of state testing! I'm counting that as point three on the productive and positive score tallies, by the way. Administration of said state testing to nervous seniors felt neither productive, or positive so, no points there.  Lecturing tenth graders on the importance of doing well on a practice SAT and taking challenging classes was not productive and their feedback was not positive.  I did manage to get the guidance people an accommodation list, which was productive but not positive.  No points earned, but by then snuggling up with War and Peace was looking real positive!  Lunch sucked! Two behavior referrals, and then a two and a half hour meeting about athletics where I was the only female. After two and a half hours I'm past the point of productive or positive so, no points earned again. Since I was supposed to meet with my teachers in the time period of my impromptu athletic meeting, and my teachers sat in my office and waited, I would say that was positive, but not probably not productive for any of us. No points earned but I'm buying my teacher's donuts tomorrow for following directions, so that will be a positive..for tomorrow.

I got in the car to go home and thought Elijah's soccer practice was at 6:30, but it really was at 5:30. Josie made me a cold hotdog that was gross, but it was food I  could eat in the car. Our conversation in the car about finishing what we start was productive,  but apparently Elijah should of stayed in bed with a book today too! He had little positive to say about humans as a whole and asked why some people go to the trouble of breathing! That was a good question I could not give a good, socially accepted response to so, I didn't.  Now I sit in the car, avoiding bugs and wind to wait for Elijah's soccer practice to end. I'm trying to be productive by writing this post, but pretty sure I have failed miserably at being positive. Elijah suggested if I wanted to end the day on a productive and positive note I should take him for ice cream after practice. Since staying in bed with that book isn't an option, ice cream here we come!

The Flying Pig

Elvis and I went for a hilly run!

For a couple years now I have been looking at Runner's World's advertisements for the Flying Pig Marathon in Cincinnati, Ohio.  This year I ran it.  I should have paid closer attention to the elavation map, because if I had I'm pretty sure I would not have been so excited to run this race.

There were over 12,000 registered for the half.  The corrals were well marked but a little small, especially in the last corral where I and several walkers hung out.  They call the corrals PIG PENS and that's exactly what they felt like. If this is how pigs feel before the slaughter than I feel a little guilty about my love of bacon!  There was lots of chatter about how hilly the course was that I could of done without that morning, and I wished I had not forgot my gum, but other than that things went well

The view from the last pig pen!

Still waiting to start!

The 6:30 am start was early, but it was also nice to be done and back at the hotel before lunch.  Starting near the Ohio river and in between two sports team stadium's was pretty cool too.  There were lots of people to cheer you on throughout the course. Every couple of miles there were bands and there were signs everywhere.  The community did a great job supporting the runners, even us slow ones in the back!

One of the many bridges I ran over

Learning that bridge=hill

 The course was hilly.  The first hill was the first bridge over the Ohio River into a cute Kentucky town.  I'm sure the town would of been cuter if I wasn't so tired from dodging the potholes on the bridge and the hill to get to Kentucky.  The hills for the first four miles were just teasers to what miles 6-9 had in store.  At mile 6 you start the ascent up to Eden Park.  This hill was huge and just when you thought you were done, you'd turn a corner to only see more hill.  At least the view from the top was beautiful and I was very thankful for the band and water station up there!  Now why I had to look at my time at the 10K mark going up hill eludes me, but I was only 5 minutes behind my estimated time.  Which was pretty good since I don't run hills and was dealing with stomach issues!

The view from the top!

Bob Platt can kiss it!

Water stations and porta potties were plentiful until mile 10.  Why oh why did I pass up the mile 10 porta pottie I'll never know, but it made for a slow and sloshy three miles to the finish.  At mile 11 you start to go down hill.  A big down hill!  By now my feet were protesting and I could feel the blisters,  One for each foot.  I haven't had blisters in a long time, but I assume its from the swelling and up and down on the hills and sliding around in my shoes.  See there is a valid reason why I don't run hills!

The finish was lovely!  There were people lined up everywhere and they were loud!  We got a mylar blanket, even though it was close to 70 when I finished and a cool two sided medal with a flying pig.  There was plenty of food and water at the end of the race.  I wish that they had coke, but I was happy to see a short line at the porta potties!

Adoring fans at the finish!