Running

Somehow without being able to identify a specific place, date or time, I got hooked on running.  I’m not new to the sport at all, and while I’ve always run I can’t claim it’s been an integral part of my life from early on.  As with hiking (I posted about it a while back), there’s no doubt running is good for the body, but for me it’s also good for the soul.  Here’s what seems to have happened.

I ran track in high school one year.  I hated it but couldn’t explain why until later.  My dad lettered in track all four years he was in high school, but he never pushed me to participate in track.  He remained an avid runner for over half his life though, he and I would run 5 and 10K races together during my junior high and high school years.  Those were always fun and it never seemed like a competition with the other racers, or with dad.  It was just great dad ‘n’ lad time shared through something we both could do.  So I guess it made some sense that I said hello to the track team!  It seemed to be something I’d enjoy but within a year I moved on to something else.  The track team just wasn’t for me.

Then in college I joined the intramural cross country team.  I’m not sure why, but it seemed (again) to be something I’d like.  It was a better experience for me than high school track, and I learned a few things.  I liked running longer distances and experienced some of the same enjoyment I did when I ran with my dad.  I also learned I didn’t like high school track because the events I participated in were fast and short distances.  Cross country was definitely physically and mentally more fun.  We raced across changing terrain rather than around an oval and while speed still mattered, race strategy seemed to matter more when you needed to keep running longer.

There was something else I was discovering about myself too:  I get bored easily.  Running through changing scenery minimized the boredom of the oval track.  It was therapeutic in that it ensured I had dedicated time outdoors and outside of the sterile classroom.  I wasn’t fast, I never won a race, but I did well and I was a happier guy for it.

Life after college has been a 26+ year journey as an Air Force officer.  Fitness is an integral part of military life and running is a part of our fitness test--a short distance within a specified amount of time.  Not hard to do, and because of how I’m wired, not very fun.  But I’ve kept running, not to pass a fitness test, but for the same therapeutic benefits I mentioned before.  Trade sterile classrooms for sterile offices full of multiple computers and phones, and the appeal to get outside and move around increases.  Fresh air, strenuous physical work and the lack of office machines combine to do a lot to help reset and refocus mentally.  Time on the road or trail has become coveted time to listen to books, music, or sometimes nothing other than nature, and it’s always time to think without interruption.  No doubt the physical benefits are there even though I’m older and slower, but I tell people all the time that I value the mental/emotional benefits more.  It’s true.

I run more often now than ever before and while I’ve never been a long distance runner as some define “long distance,” how far I run has increased over time too.  So has my tolerance for running in most conditions: sun or rain, hot or cold, day or night.  And somewhere along the way the hobby has become something more akin to a passion.  Now I regularly run 5Ks and 10Ks, and next week I’ll run my first half marathon.

Everything else aside, I’m also doing my best to stay healthy for my son.  What’s even cooler about that: he watches me and has taken a real interest in my running.  He’s started asking me if he can run with me.  I used to push him along in a jogging stroller when he was an infant and toddler and I only stopped when he seemed to be bored with it.  Now he sees me running and wants to go along.  He knows when this Spring comes we’re going to start running together--no more stroller and no more waiting at home for dad to return.  He’s excited and that makes me happy!  We’ll start short and slow and he can decide if this is his cup of tea.  I don’t know if he’ll enjoy it or if he’ll stay interested over time, but I’m hopeful that as he grows we’ll have one more thing we can share, and it’s something that’ll contribute to his ability to develop and live a healthy lifestyle.

Life is funny:  I’m middle-aged and my body says I’m running like I probably should have been when I was younger.  But hey, I like it more now than I did before.  As long as my knees (and other middle-aged body parts) don’t rebel, I hope to run my first marathon sometime next year, and maybe a 50K in 2014:  50K for my 50th birthday.  In the years to come, maybe my son will run by my side, certainly casually and even in a few races.  Let’s see what happens.

It’s great to be a dad!

First Sleep-Over

Paul slept at his friend’s house last night.  This was his first time sleeping outside of our house without us.  Pretty cool!  This was a big night for him.  We talked with him about what it would be like and know he heard , and as Steph dropped him off he was fully focused on a good time playing with his friend.  There was a bit of uncertainty for us though.  Would he wake up in the middle of the night and get scared because he wasn’t in his own house, or call out for one of us only to find we weren’t there?  There’s only one way to know and he wanted to “camp out” with his friend.  And so he went.

For me: I’m excited as a dad to see my son doing something new, and for a five year old, something potentially brave.  As many of you know though, I miss him when he’s sleeping in the next room so last night was not only exciting for me but also a bit...I don’t know.  Not nervous; not scared; different, I guess.  I don’t have a good word but suspect other moms and dads out there know what I’m trying to describe.

The best single part of this experience for me though was probably what my son said to the dog before he left the house.  He took a serious and gentle tone and called to the dog, finally getting her to stop in front of him.  Then he bent down and very gently told her, “dream of me, and walk with me in your dreams.”  Wow.  I don’t know where that came from but I was floored and almost emotional.  Not because of the sleep over, but because something that big and serious came from his five year old heart.  And then off he went.

Now it’s the next morning and the phone didn’t ring last night.  He must have done well!  I know I slept well in spite of the uncertainty in my heart.  Maybe that’s the word I was looking for earlier--uncertainty.  The house was very quiet: more than usual.  Some of that was mental I’m sure, but it was also truly quieter.  I am a very light sleeper and routinely peek in on Paul at night.  No sleeping boy equals no sleeping boy sounds.  But it was nice in it’s own way.

I’m proud of my son for this little life accomplishment.  After all, I’ve known other kids, and have had friends who didn’t sleep outside their own house and away from mom and dad until they went to college.  I love my awesome son!

It’s great to be a dad!

Book Review: "Sundae: One Bear's Epic Crusade Through Childhood"

I purchased the Kindle version of the novella "Sundae: One Bear's Epic Crusade Through Childhood" by Matt Wallace a while ago, and it recently came to the top of my list.  I read it first sitting in an airport, and again almost immediately.  Within a week I read it to my five year old son.  Sundae is an amazing story.  While parts were a bit heavy for my son, he understood the story and definitely identified with several of the characters, especially the protective bear named Sundae.

Sundae is the story of a bear--a stuffed animal--whose purpose is to protect children from the dangers that exist within the unseen world of the imagination.  We follow Sundae from creation through his life, defending children and at times finding himself tucked away quietly in storage.

What I love most about this book is that it gives form to the shapeless and often nameless things that frighten children.  Things known and “seen” are often much less scary than things unseen and therefore less understood.  In the story we see the threats to the children with form and therefore we see Sundae’s battles as a child would see them.

My son loved the story, as did I, and he still talks about it.  He also has a small bear in his room he’s now renamed “Sundae”.  The bear is never far away and he sleeps well.

If you’re already familiar with Matt Wallace’s other works and didn’t realize he’s written a children’s story, don’t look past Sundae.  Even if you don’t have kids, read this.  I’m sure you’ll enjoy it, it’ll bring back some lost memories of childhood, and you just might know a child you can pass it to who would benefit from hearing this awesome story of adventure and courage.

Fall Soccer & Smelly Feet

The Fall AYSO soccer season kicked off here in Las Vegas a couple weeks ago.  My son played last Spring and was eager all Summer for the Fall season to start.  Well, the season began but there’s something other than a new uniform happening now:  smelly feet.

After getting home from his first game we took his shoes and socks off and our noses detected trouble, our eyes watered and the dog fled the room.  He’s always been very active and while we knew this day would come, we hadn’t really given it any thought.  The result was surprise and some small amount of alarm when he climbed onto my lap and the smell of sweaty feet overwhelmed punched me in the nose.

I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.  The good news is a bath quickly followed and the problem was solved.  The best news of all: my son is a healthy, growing boy!

It’s great to be a dad!

Losing Dad

This may be the most difficult thing I’ve ever written.  Just a few weeks ago my son surprised my wife and I when he suddenly looked sad and said, “Dad, when I’m big like you and I have a son like you do, I’m going to miss you.”  I asked him, “Why will you miss me?”  He explained that when he’s big I’ll “be in my skel” and he won’t be able to see me anymore.  When he says something is a skel, he’s referring to it being a skeleton--being dead.  My young son was now somehow aware of death and the loss it brings.

On the 18th of August my wife, son and I boarded a plane in some haste and flew to Madison, Mississippi to be with my dad.  His was in the hospital and his health was failing quickly.  We were all able to see him.  I spent all day on the 19th sitting and talking with him, and to the best of my ability, comforting him as he was in and out of sleep.  Just a few days later, he passed away.  My mom and I were with him and it was the most heartbreaking and tender of moments.  We had both shared our thoughts and words of encouragement with him, ensuring he knew we were there and okay, and that we loved him.  Mom was sitting by his side holding his hand and I was standing over him from the other side.  I had just finished quietly speaking into his ear, I kissed his forehead, and he left us.  His departure was quiet and graceful.  It was honorable and dignified.

What made that moment most special to me as his son were those final words I shared with him.  They weren’t private or new to his ears, and were words I’ve said to him and to others about him before.  I quietly and humbly told my father this:

“Dad, I’m proud of you and all that you’ve done in life.  I’m so proud that you’re my dad and I’m your son.  I love you.”

Just seconds after I said these words, he died with my hand on his shoulder and his hand in mom’s.

As we made the trip to Mississippi, we told our son his grandpa (who he called “G”) was very sick.  Once we were there, I took time on several occasions to help him understand that he wouldn’t get to see G again, including one brief but significant father and son walk.  Steph and I didn’t want to hide this from him, nor did we want to make death some sort of fiction, and we struggled with how to best do this, knowing there isn’t a “right way.”  We were confident that our son was mature enough to see his grandfather as sick as he was, to grasp the basic truth of the reality of death (especially after his earlier statement), and to learn that the death of the body is as much a part of life as birth and everything in between.  He was with us during the visitation and memorial service, handled everything very well, and touched our hearts dearly when he solemnly snuggled Steph and told her sadly, “I’m going to miss G.”

As a son having just lost his dad, I was able to draw very real strength from having my son with me through it all.  It was special that we could share it, with me carrying the heaviest emotional weight of the loss for him, and as a dad experiencing the very real love and tangible support from my own son.  I also had the privilege of giving the eulogy at dad’s memorial service--truly the hardest thing I have ever had to do.  I can’t imagine anyone else having done it and while it felt like I was speaking without any oxygen in the air, it was also medicine for my own soul.  In the end, during the trip my son was able to see his grandfather purposefully for a last time, see the sorrow in my heart at the loss of my father, and hear the words I offered in a meager attempt to honor him--his grandfather--in front of his gathered friends and family.

We will bury dad at Arlington National Cemetery sometime later this year, and we will be there with him--father and son--to give dad one final goodbye as our country lays him to rest with full military honors.  I know I’m biased, but I think it’s the best thing my grateful family can do for this amazing and quiet man who gave everything he had to us, to his country, and to his community.  He served us all well, with honor, integrity and humility, and it showed to anyone who looked.  I certainly learned from his example and trust my son has too.  Among everything else, my job now as a father is to do my best to ensure my son continues to learn the same lessons of honor, integrity, humility and service, hopefully through my words and deeds.  It’s not easy, but what an awesome task.  And there’s no better way I can think of to continue to honor my father than by raising my son--his grandson--well.

It’s great to be a dad!

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Here are the links to my father's official military biography and his obituary.  His obituary captures his career after his retirement from the military.

What Is A Young Adult?

I just recently became aware of the NPR list of Best Young Adult Fiction.  I came across this list because of a small controversy resulting from a book they excluded:  Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card.  The controversy isn’t about Ender’s Game specifically, but about why it was excluded balanced against what made the list.

While I’m definitely a fan of Ender’s Game, and the saga this book begins, this post isn’t about arguing why Ender’s Game should or should not be on a list of acceptable YA novels.  Instead, it seems one of two things is happening at NPR:  1) giving NPR the benefit of the doubt, they’ve confused what it seems should be the obvious difference between a young adult and a child, or 2) NPR has an agenda and has excluded Ender’s Game based on either a bias against the book (unrelated to the discussion about age-appropriateness) or the author.  While the latter is possible, the more important issue is about how we as parents decide to put appropriate material in front of our kids: books, movies, etc.

NPR says they excluded Ender’s Game (as well as at least one other book) from the final list because “while Ender himself is young, the book’s violence isn’t appropriate for young readers.”  Even so, they still included other books like Lord of the Flies and Dune on the final list, both of which contain stunning depictions of violence.  This exposes two problems.  NPR acknowledges the first: “no reader’s poll will ever be truly objective.”  If for no other reason, a panel of judges can’t and won’t ever apply a rigid standard to a body of diverse literary works, each of which is unique.  The best we’ll ever get is an organized mess.  The second problem revolves around what they asked for: recommendations for a list of the Best Young Adult Fiction.

When I see “young adult” I take the words at face value and acknowledge the phrase very obviously includes the word adult.  While 13 seems to be a generally agreed upon age for differentiating child from young adult, there isn’t a clear line.  Why? To state the obvious again: like every adult in the world, every child is an individual with a complex set of reasons why they are who they are.  At a specific age, some kids excel at certain things while others don’t.  Some fear things that others don’t.  They each deal with all the aspects of life presented to them differently and this is true for violence.  My problem with what NPR has done trying to compile a YA list of books is that they showed us they don’t have the ability to differentiate between children who aren’t yet young adults, and those who are.

I suggest there’s really only one body, one committee, one panel of judges that can form such a list of movies, literature, songs and other wonderful manifestations of art: each child’s parents.  For each child, the panel of judges is as large as the parents responsible for that little person.  (NPR: the number tends to be one or two, unless you include extended family.)  Mom and Dad, are you familiar with what your kids are reading?  Have you read the material yourself?  Hopefully, to the best of your ability, the answer is “yes” to both questions.  No one knows your child better than you do, or no one should.  Other parents, friends, teachers: they’re all an incredible part of the cultural cloud that we and our kids operate in and draw support from, but your child is your child, not theirs.  With all due respect to those who advocate the position that “it takes a village” what that village contributes is and should always be limited.  My wife and I had our son.  He is the human product of our love for each other.  Sorry village, but you weren’t there; the door was locked and the blinds were drawn, on purpose.  And now our son first and foremost is our responsibility to raise.  Village, and NPR, you are the supporting cast.

Are lists like the one NPR created valuable?  They sure are, but often, they end up being only interesting.  Regardless of who creates a list like this, I hope parents don’t use it as a suitable substitute for exercising their own judgment.  I remember several of the books on the NPR list.  There are many I’ve never read and some I’ve never heard of.  In the end, my wife and I will focus our son on the books we know are proven based on our own reading, then on the recommendations of people we know and trust.  For unknown books, we’ll probably read them first, at least until we know our son is old enough to make determinations on his own about the value of what he can take away from any piece of literature.  We’re also aware this is constant work since that list will change constantly, with his age and experience.

So what is a young adult?  Well, I suspect it’s similar to art: I can’t give you a rigid answer but you’ll know it when you see it.  NPR, I think you bit off more than you could ever chew and I’m not sure your list really matters.  It’s too long and you can’t lock down what you meant when you said “young adult.”  I know my own son though and will continuously put good books in his hands as a child, into his young adult years once he’s there, and even when he’s indisputably an adult.  And yes, he’ll definitely read Ender’s Game when he’s old enough, probably when he’s a “young adult.”

This parenting stuff is hard, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world!

You can find my review of the original four Ender's Saga books (Ender's Game, Speaker for the Dead, Xenocide and Children of the Mind) under my profile on Goodreads.  

It’s great to be a dad!

Here are links to the original article and NPR posts that caught my attention:

1. http://www.enderwiggin.net/2012/07/24/npr-calls-enders-game-too-violent-young-readers/
2. http://www.npr.org/2012/07/24/157072526/best-ever-teen-novels-vote-for-your-favorites
3. http://www.npr.org/blogs/monkeysee/2012/07/24/157311055/best-ya-fiction-poll-you-asked-we-answer
4. http://www.npr.org/2012/07/24/157111862/young-adult-fiction-finalists

The Great Ice Cube Incident

Just last week my son put an ice cube down the back of my pants.  He worked incredibly hard to ensure he could sneak up on me and had my wife help him by distracting me during the prank.  It was awesome!

I love my son’s sense of humor even though right now it isn’t much different than any other five year old boy.  But this was the first time I can remember that he stepped away from funny sounding words and bathroom humor and crafted a plan to actually do something he decided was funny.  What made it even cooler was that he’s never seen Stephanie or I put ice down anyone’s pants.  He either heard other kids talking about this at school, saw it on TV, or he connected the dots himself and thought it would be funny to put something cold where it doesn’t usually belong.  After asking him about it, it seems it’s the latter, and that makes me happy.

While I was busy, he went over to the freezer and grabbed a cube...

Then he walked up behind me with all the boldness of a veteran ice cuber...

And committed the act.

With a 43 year difference in our ages, I hope I never squelch his developing sense of humor and continue to enjoy watching my son’s young and strong mind figure out what’s funny to him, and what he hopes is funny to others around him.  I’m sure there’ll be goofs and miscalculations along the way, but I think they’ll be worth it based on the great ice cube incident.  I'm so proud of my little man.  Oh, did I mention my wife was involved in this?  It's okay; I’m all smiles!

It’s great to be a dad!