Previously…. on “The Marathon Mess… ” Starting, well, me…, or as my husband would say, “the narcisista” and no, he doesn’t speak Spanish. He thinks marrying Mexican makes him an honorary -awesome-understands-some-sentences-and-can-speak-a-few-words Mexican. He wishes he was an awesome Mexican. Also, I’m not a narcissist, really, I’m not! You’ll see why I may seem like one…-one day!
But, anyway, I just said that like the Beverly Hills 90210 narrator giving a summary of where the 90210 crew left it’s faithful audience in suspense… Who else was a fan way back in the day of ugly clothes? EEK! Don’t worry, no pictures of circa 90’s fashion choices, here… Brenda, Kelly, Dillon, Brandon, and the rest of the Beverly Hills crew thought they were so cool, but, everyone, but them and a few other koo-koos knew 90’s clothes were not stylish, at all.
Ok, back to this topic, Karina…
Yes, so, I was sitting in my car, driven by my needs a round of applause husband, because, well, if you’re not a marathon runner, yet, I must tell you, the legs are a bit sore after 26.2 miles of awesomeness (remember, that’s what koo-koo marathon runners think after the race).
Anyway, I’m incredibly lucky to have an amazingly supportive husband, so I didn’t have to drive another 26.2 plus miles. However, he did that at least three times while making it to three stops.
Why was he driving the equivalent of three marathons?
In addition to being an incredibly supportive husband, he is that as a father, for our son, too. Yes, yes, I know, I am beyond lucky. But, I should get some credit, too. After all, I chose the man. Give credit where credit is served, people. I knew he had all the makings of a fantastic father, and after almost thirteen years of being a father, he has not proved me wrong.
Anyway, I bet you were wondering why I never mentioned my favorite person in the universe in the previous LA Marathon post. Am I right? Well, because he wasn’t in the vicinity of the course.
I know. That’s how I felt when I found out, too. But, of course, I didn’t show it. I felt it, alright. As many of you know, baseball is one of my son’s biggest passions. He plays on a travel baseball team with boys he’s known since he was eight. In childhood terms, that’s the equivalent of family. He sees and interacts with these boys more than his real family.
If you’re not familiar with Pony Youth travel-baseball, being on a travel baseball team means the players must love baseball. Why? They sleep, breathe, and play baseball spring, summer, and sometimes fall and winter. Fortunately, my son’s team takes a more relaxed approach in fall and winter. Not all parents agree with me, some think it should be intense year-round. But, that’s a different post. I have a lot to say about that.
Cooperstown is the Little League World Series, MLB World Series of Pony Baseball (the organization my son plays in). My son and his teammates/brothers/cousins have been anticipating this tournament , taking place in New York, this summer, since they joined the team. As one of their biggest fans and supporters, I can not believe it’s knocking at our doors, already. I majorly want to cry! I’ve witnessed the mental, social, and physical development of these boys, going from baby faced to almost resembling adolescents. How?! How and why does it have to happen so quickly…?! Why?!
After School Pick up- Monday, 3/20/2017 (Day after Glory Day… well they’ll pass you by, glory days… In the wink of a young girl’s eye, glory days…, gl-ory… days...)
Now, I want to go listen and boogie to Bruce Springsteen.
Born down in a dead man’s town
The first kick I took was when I hit the ground
End up like a dog that’s been beat too much
Till you spend half your life just covering up
Born in the U.S.A., I was born in the U.S.A…
I just sung that verse to you. Remember, I’m learning to sing beautifully… Who else is singing “Born in the USA”, now?
Back to Topic
After doing and saying sigh inducing acts and comments, as is the case almost daily at pick-up, on our drive home, out of the blue, I hear “… It’s sad we had to miss each other’s events… Clearly, he was thinking about it as much as I was. Ok, fine, I was probably thinking about it more. Yes. I missed his first double header of his spring season travel play. I’ve missed three total games out of hundreds he’s played in. One of the many reasons, I skip out and change training, often. Motherhood is my chosen profession. Best decision and profession I’ve ever chosen and experienced. Really, no joke. While some days, I want to bang my head and pull my hair, 98.4% of the time, I am beyond thrilled to be a mother, my cutie’s mother.
I keep repeating that fact because it’s important to understand why it was such a big deal for me to miss his games. Some people may think I’m crazy, after all, it’s only a baseball game, but there is a deeper reason and meaning to a lot of what I do. Again, I’m not being arrogant or thinking I’m a stand out mom, but one day you will know why I say and do a lot of what I say and do.
Lady, it’s only youth baseball…
True. It is only youth baseball. That’s what I would have thought, too, if I wasn’t present for the majority of what happens on and off the field. To the boys on the team, and why I agreed to allow my son to join travel play, the best part of being on a travel team is the learning and growing aiding them towards a well-rounded, kind, and hard working adult on and off the field through the best sport in the world (running, too, and I’m not being biased, at all).
Missing games is bound to happen. It happens when a player goes on vacation, is ill, needs to complete a homework assignment, or a attend family event. My son has missed for the previously mentioned reasons, too. While the LA Marathon was a family event, so is his baseball team.
Initially, he had stated there was no way he was going to miss the thrill and excitement of cheering for all runners. His experience as a spectator, alone, could be a book, so I won’t go there. Maybe, one day, and if he agrees to allow me to share those thoughts. However, the reaction from his teammates when informing them at one of their off -the-field team events, his missing the first double header when a couple of other boys were already missing due to vacations, he did what we have raised him to do.
Think of Others
That’s right. He was thinking of his team. I won’t quote what he said because he didn’t give me permission to quote his words, but I’m proud he’s my son. I will say, he’s a sweetheart, he made triple sure, my feelings weren’t hurt if he attended his game over the LA Marathon. Plus, I was a good mom (pat, pat on the back, lady) and reiterated how much of a not-big-deal it was for him to not be able to make it (of course, internally, there was a waterworks display of tears, but proud of his choice to be there for his brothers/team). Not to brag or anything, but my cutie is important to his team, like all the others boys, but he’s one of the veterans on the team, so his energy is influential. Why my husband is often reminding him, he must remain optimistic no matter how well they are playing. The team follows his energy. Again, I’m not trying to brag about my son, but I must mention his impact on the team because it’s the reason his dad and I agreed to add chaos to an already long day.
One of Many Reasons My Husband Deserves A Phenomenal Husband Award
Remember, we no longer live a hop skip away from Dodger Stadium and our son’s games were taking place way off course. The lovely parents/families on our son’s team, offered to take our son and be responsible for him until we arrived. However, our son wanted to drop me off at his Disneyland, too. I ADORE my little guy! So, awesome-husband, had to drive him to his game, miles and miles away. Dropped him off. Drove in the chaotic LA Marathon and 405 traffic (the 405 freeway, a.k.a, hell freeway, not joking, there are anger flames emanating from many vehicles at times, I mean major road rage…) to make it to support me at multiple stops.
I won’t lie. I missed seeing the most GORGEOUS smile and energy in the world, for me. I think wondering whether he was ok and not seeing him on the course added to the mental and physical struggle. I knew he was in great hands, but mother’s NEVER stop worrying when our cuties are out of reach.
Glory Line is Crossed
Yes, I was beaming at surviving. However, a large presence was missing, so this finish was very different from the first marathon. We had miles and miles to drive in that insane traffic and we would not be making it to our son’s last game, either.
- I couldn’t leave without seeing and thanking my brother and nephews, who were caught in that, you know, ludicrous traffic. Plus, I shocked us all by speeding up the snail pace I had going when he last saw me. He and my nephews were shocked to receive the text update letting them know I had crossed. They thought the tracker was experiencing technical difficulties… While I SO wanted to stay in Santa Monica and celebrate with them, we needed to jam back to our son while avoiding all the detours and I did not want to see what the 405 looked like at that hour on LA Marathon Day. In fact, post-marathon, I read many funny tweets from non- Los Angeles area runners cursing LA Marathon runners for being inconsiderate. According to one, “…we need to suffer because of your need to run…” If only they knew the mind and body benefits, they would have been part of the fun, too. Right, runners?
- I won’t tell you what words my husband used on the drive to pick up our son, but George Carlin would have made him his best-friend-forever-and-ever. Even, pre-2017-LA-Marathon me would have cursed up a thunderstorm with lightning and an earthquake at what we had to go through thanks to WAZE. The koo-koo app had him driving towards closed roads. From the looks of all the cars ahead of us, many people were probably cursing at WAZE.
With all the traffic delays, I was ready to send the lovely families helping out with our son a message to ask if we could pick up him up at one of their homes. After a double header in heat, I’m sure nobody wanted to hang out for who-knows how long at the field. However, we made it! Our son’s game was finishing up when we pulled in, but as luck would have it, no parking… Of course! See, I told you, I’m often pitched curve balls when expecting fastballs. So, my no-longer-sporting-a-George-Carlin-demeanor-and-vocabulary-husband made his way to the baseball field while I waited for a spot to open up.
Sitting in a car for miles and miles after running a marathon, then, trying to get out of a car like pre-marathon self was a mistake. Ouch, that hurt. But, the ouch was temporarily invisible when I saw my cutie… “Wow! This medal is even nicer than last year…” he said with is giant smile as he picked it up. See, awesome-marathon-runner-friend, if you’re reading this post, I told you… Another reason, you missed out… The pictures don’t do it justice , either…. Way nicer than last year… I mean, WAY… nicer! Ha! I’m only joking with you, both are beauties.
On Our Way Home?
Nope. Not yet. Senor-Awesome-Possum had a surprise for me… You know how I love food, right? NO, not In’n Out… I had already had In-’n Out for lunch on Marathon Eve. It was one of my favorite-I-seldom-get-to-eat-since-moving-far-far-away-restaurants… Carnival…, The beauty located in sunny Sherman Oaks, California, ladies and gentlemen…. Yep… he drove more miles, not half or full marathon distance, but not on the way to our home, either.
Yep. Yep. Yep. Lucky, lady…
After gobbling up the tasty beef-lamb shawarma with less rice, more meat, I felt human, again. Thanks awesome-marathon-runner friend for your suggestions to eat lots of meat. Guess what? I did, along with tasty Lebanese salad, humus, warm pita and the Carnival works… It was superb… Do you like shawarma? If so, if you ever visit Sherman Oaks, California, I highly recommend, Carnival.
To be continued, again… I have more on LA Marathon. See, marathons are epic on the mind, legs and typing fingers, too.
For today’s, epilogue, I have another one of my favorites to share, Pictures…