Pace yourself

If I've learned anything about myself in the past two years it's that I pace myself.

I like to go hard. I like to get stuff done then move on to the next thing. I rest when necessary then get back up and keep going when refreshed.

I'm pretty decent about going to bed on time. I'm getting really good about getting up early. I take naps when needed.

I've become a runner. I now love to run. For the first time in my life I enjoy running. It's odd, I know. I've trained for three 5Ks and haven't actually competed in any of them.

I think a deployment can be easily compared to a 5K.

• You prepare.


• You start off with way more energy than you need for the beginning and you remind yourself not to go too fast.


• The first 1/3 mile is a killer.


• Then you get into a good breathing pattern and fall right into step.


• Praise music/good sermons are a must. They keep the focus off of what you are doing and on the big picture.


• Mile two you just want to quit. Mostly cause you are bored with the monotonous pattern of it all. You are tired and you want a change.


• With a half a mile left your entire focus is on finishing. "I'm almost there. Just a little bit more." You're body is spent and you are saving just enough energy for the last laps.


• You're chest is pounding, your lungs gasping and you face dripping sweat. You are almost to a stopping point and that's good because you can't go any more.

You are spent.

You've paced yourself.

You've given in all and there's no more left to give.

Then you get to stop.

About three weeks ago I was looking at my calendar. It looked something like this:

Emily and the girls coming for 3 days. Two days later, Amanda coming for 4 days. I head to Greenville, see Grant graduate, pick up Chrissy and she stays till Mike gets home.

Sweet.

I paced myself.

Two days out of the last 4 weeks would be spent without live-in help. I can do this. I started mentally relaxing. No more watching kids alone. I've got help. I'm on the last 1/2 mile.

Then. Plans changed. Chrissy was not going to stay the whole time. She had to head back early. Bad news, because I was done watching kids alone. I'd have 4 days to suck it up and go back to "full custody."

Eww. I was trying to convince myself that I had enough in the tank for that.

Next thing I know, plans change again. Now she (and Mom) would have to leave 8 days before V-E Day.

"I can't do it." I told them. "There's no way. I don't have anything left in me." I sat in the chair trying to come up with a way to psych myself up for this.

Put a fork in me, cause I'm DONE.

I thought, "I'll just call the babysitters and see if I can get someone to come live with me." I'll pay someone to clean my house. I'll hire a pool boy --I mean a lawn guy. Something. I just don't think I can do it.

I had paced myself.

So. Chrissy says: "You can just hire me. We'll take the boys home with us and I'll watch them."

I stopped. I looked off. I thought.

Could this really work? Will I feel like a bad mother? Will my boys come back all thrown off from the change? What would I do with myself? Will they behave? Would Mike think this was a good idea? What if they come home with ticks? Will they obey Chrissy?

We talked about schedules and fees and decided it would work.

They packed up and were gone.

First time I've been without child or husband since OTS -four years ago.

I think I'll find plenty to do this week. I've got a list.