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This morning Gabe informed me that today was the tetherball championship final round for the TKL. Tucker and Jacob (the two biggest kids in his class) are going head to head, and Jacob leads the series 3-1.

“I’m not in this competition,” Gabe said,”Because I’m in the SKL.”

“What’s the SKL?” I asked.

“The Short Kids League,” he replied.

“The Short Kids League? Who came up with that?” I laughingly asked.

“Riley,” Gabe answered. Riley is Gabe’s best friend and fellow math geek. Gabe explained that none of the other fifth graders could ever beat Tucker and Jacob because they are so tall, so Riley proposed separate leagues to increase the competition.

(Dale adheres to this ‘create a new category’ plan whenever he runs a race. He is not simply in the ‘male age 40-50′ category, he is in the ‘male age 40-50, with four kids, who just got out of the Army and grew a beard, whose wife is running the race too and goes by the name of Mugs’ category. This way, he wins every time.)

Zeke, sitting nearby and listening to Gabe and my conversation, piped up, “I bet I’ll be in the SKL when I’m in the fifth grade!”

The boy learns quick. Genetics, you just can’t fight them.

In 17 days, I will join Dale and Josiah in running the 5k Turkey Trot. Josiah should finish in 20 minutes, Dale should finish in 22 minutes, and (here’s hoping) I will finish in at least 40 minutes. I fear Josiah may finally break 20 minutes this year and be able to claim that he is twice as fast as his mother.

Zeke claims, once again, that he now wants to run the mile fun run. Upon completion of last year’s race, he declared, “I never want to do that again!” Dale made a similar claim after each of his marathons. The declaration finally held true after the third.

During the last two months, I have been able to complete the 3.1 mile distance once a week. On my other two running days, I run for 20 minutes (1.5 miles) and 30 minutes (2.3 miles) respectively. If I happen to pull a fourth running day out during the week, I run another 20 minutes.

I do no hill workouts, no speed workouts, no strength workouts. My goal since January has simply been to run the distance without stopping.

Unfortunately, this goal is not a satisfactory goal for Blaze. When he is with me, he tries to inspire me to a faster tempo by running ahead; he frequently fertilizes the grass so I can work on sudden deceleration; and he periodically looks up at me as if to say, “Seriously, lady, is this all you got?”

One of his favorite activities is to try to goad me into playing “catch me if you can.” I’ll see him sitting on the back steps and I’ll grab the leash. As soon as I open the door, he will dash down into the backyard daring me to chase and catch him. Unfortunately for him, it never works. I know I cannot catch him, so I just close the door and leave for the run without him. He will then run over to the back gate to watch me go, giving me an accusatory (you’re a poor sport) look.

This 10 month training plan to run 3.1 miles has had its starts and stops, injury breaks, and discouraging days. However, since January, I have lost ten pounds and gained more energy and a better sleeping pattern.

When I started 10 months ago, I could not run 1/4 mile without stopping. During every 3.1 mile run, somewhere in between 1.5 and 2.5 miles, I want to quit. On my practice course, there is a small incline, just prior to the 2.5 mile mark that discourages me each time I run. Some runners have heartbreak hill, I simply have discouraging incline.

It is not an insurmountable obstacle, just the drudgery of the uphill that slows me down (and believe me there isn’t a lot slower I can go) and makes me ask myself, “Why am I doing this?” The thought always returns first with, “It is not worth it, just quit.” This is the place where my stubborn character is beneficial.

After 10 months, I can’t say that I love running, but I do know that I no longer hate it.

On the day scheduled for Josiah’s cross country conference championships, we had a heavy rainstorm. The race was rescheduled for the next day which was unfortunately the day of Josiah’s 16th birthday bonfire sleepover party. I entered the day knowing we’d be cutting it close.

I purchased all the food earlier in the week, cleaned the house in advance (shocking, I know), and baked the coca cola cake that morning. I deluded myself into thinking I would have time for party set up before guests arrived. I planned to watch the races and leave immediately after the last runner crossed the line.

To provide added pressure, my party coordinator (Abby) abandoned me to attend a sleepover at her friend’s house. (Mom says she did it because she is still mad about the phone.)

Dale and I drove separate cars to a race an hour and fifteen minutes away, so he could stay until Josiah finished his warm down run. I picked up Gabe and Zeke from school, and we drove up to horse and wine country. The drive up was quite beautiful with the rolling hills, the changing leaves, and the mountains in the distance. The race was held at a boarding school, a lovely place in the middle of nowhere.

It was a beautiful day for the race, except for the cold wind slicing through it. I made Josiah pack his long under gear, and thankfully he put it on.

The team had run the course earlier in the season so they knew to keep to the front for the first quarter of a mile. They looked good at the start and good in the middle. As they approached the line, we were yelling like crazy, because we weren’t sure if Josiah had made it in time.

The top 15 racers out of 89 make all conference. By the skin of his teeth, he was fifteenth. Two boys and two girls from his team made all conference. A good showing for a team with only 11 runners.

When the last team girl crossed the line, I left for the drive home, praying all the way that no one would arrive before I did. I arrived home 15 minutes prior to the start of the party. Thankfully, no one was waiting in front of the house which may have been because most people got lost. (I never know how my prayers are going to get answered.) The first guest to arrive was declared my replacement daughter, and she, along with Gabe, helped me finish setting up.

Several guests arrived before Josiah dashed in covered in mud and sweat. He ran upstairs to take a shower. Once everyone was there, they grew indignant at his lateness and started calling for him to hurry up and telling him it was rude to be late to his own party.

Other than an unplanned trip to the store to buy more skewers, a wheelbarrow of wood begged off the neighbor, and one broken chair, the party was a lot of fun.

If you ever have to make a choice between being late over the finish line or late for your party, choose being late for your party. They won’t give you a medal if you’re late over the line, but they’ll still give you gifts when you’re late for your party.

Abby has been asking for a phone since she was an infant. She started out with a phone rattle and moved up to the Fisher Price phone with the smiley face that she could dial. Being able to pull it along as she went was essential. Next, an Elmo phone sufficed for a bit, but when the pink flip open Barbie phone arrived, all others were forgotten.

These toy phones held her interest until she decided her social life demanded the real thing. The best we could offer her, was a room with a phone jack. To this, she connected an old phone that isn’t even cordless. She has been disgruntled ever since.

Every year, her birthday list and Christmas list has as its number 1 request: CELL PHONE. Day after day, week after week, she informs me of all the children we encounter who have cell phones. “He has a cell phone… She has a cell phone…He’s only 8, and he has a cell phone!” She is relentless and I am unyielding.

“I am the only girl in my freshman class who does not have a cell phone,” she’ll say. “Well good then, there will always be someone there to borrow a phone from when you need to make a call,” I reply.

Yesterday, Josiah turned 16 and received a cell phone as a birthday present. (This occurred in spite of the fact that CELL PHONE was not anywhere on his birthday list.) As you can imagine, his sister wasn’t too happy.

In one thing, she can take solace: When I told the cell phone sales guy that I had a 14 year old daughter who didn’t have a cell phone. He declared, “She is most likely the only 14 year old girl in Stafford County without a cell phone.”

Too bad she has me for a mother.

Each year in the autumn, the school (for a fundraiser) has each child draw a picture that can be purchased by the parent to print upon cups, hats, calendars, clothes, and magnets.

For complete disclosure, I must confess that I greatly dislike any and all fundraisers. I don’t like asking people for money, I don’t like my kids asking people for money. I don’t like buying things that I really don’t want. I don’t like asking friends to buy things that they really don’t want. Paying for four kids worth of clothes, food, and school fees, sours me on fundraisers. It is also possible that I simply operate with a sour attitude and fundraisers bear the brunt of my annoyance.

Last week, Zeke came home with his picture for the fundraiser, a drawing of him and Blaze. I set it aside to order the cheapest item on the fundraiser list: a magnet.

Yesterday, Gabe came home with his picture: green grass, blue sky, and a large brown sign with BEWARE written in black letters.

I took one look at it and said to him, “Don’t you think that if you had drawn a nice picture, it would be more likely I would have bought a magnet?”

He replied, “It doesn’t matter what I draw, you never buy a magnet of it. You only buy Zeke’s.”

I declared, “That is not true!” and went over to the Fridge to point out his purchased magnet. On the fridge, I found one Josiah-made magnet, one Abby-made magnet, and three magnets made by Zeke. There were no magnets made by Gabe.

“That cannot be true. I find that remarkable!” I proclaimed. “You must have sent it to Grandma and Grandpa.” I then got on the phone with Mom to verify that Gabe’s magnet was on her fridge. She had no idea what I was talking about and was no help at all.

Gabe said, “I told you. In third grade, I drew a sunset and me and Blaze walking on the beach, and a verse on the bottom. The sunset was too big and everything was squished on the bottom and you said I should have put the verse in the sun. You didn’t buy it. Another year, there was no choice to buy just one magnet, you had to buy two magnets and you said two magnets were too expensive, so you didn’t buy it. You never buy my magnet!”

I have no evidence to refute this “horrible Mother” charge although I continue looking for it. There must be a magnet somewhere. Somewhere in the mess of his room, it must be hiding. Otherwise, I must admit that the endless accusation of “It’s not fair!” has clear cut evidence to back it up.

Dale, only occasionally looking out for my best interest and ever in pursuit of the “Best Dad” moniker, immediately proclaimed, “I’m buying the ‘Beware’ magnet, even if I have to buy two!” He then proceeded to scan in the ‘Beware’ picture, print out copies and affix them to all the magnets on the Fridge.

“Mom of the Year” looks pretty remote for 2010, and now “Wife of the Year” is out as well.

Beware