The Ticket

I am a momma.  I am a coach.  In that order.  

In that order??!

Almost two weeks ago (May 11) was the biggest day yet in the running history of our two oldest, Joshua and Sophie.  It was High School Regionals.  This is the day you have to earn your ticket to state.  No matter how well you've run up to this point, everyone starts back at square one at Regionals.  You must run well on this day because only the top two places, first and second, move onto State.  If you place below that, you still have a shot at making it if your time is good enough, but it becomes harder.

This track season I ventured into new, unchartered territory.  I became the Heath High School and Middle School Track Coach.  What a learning experience this has been for me!  Oh, I quickly learned that I had a lot of learning to do!  Of course, that is a whole other post for another day...

So back to my story.  Two of my athletes also happened to be my children.

Mom and Coach.  Coach and Mom.  When these two jobs converge and collide, intermingling into 'one' on a day such as Regionals, what do you have?  

ONE HOT MESS.   

One Hot Mess.  That's it.  There was no two ways of slicing it.  

You know that sick to the stomach, nervous butterfly sensation?  You know the breathlessness you experience just short of a panic attack?  Yep.  Times three.  

TIMES THREE.

Not only regarding my own children, mind you.  At this point, these athletes--all of them--I thought of as my own children.  I had spent five days a week with them for three plus months.  Somewhere along the way, these athletes became more than just another kid.  They became like family.  Signing up for regionals--there are rules, there is paperwork, there are deadlines.  Knowing how important this day was to many of our athletes--if I thought upon it too hard--OH THE PRESSURE!  

The week leading up to the big day, I played it cool with my kids.  What coach lets their athletes see the angst?  While inwardly I chained smoked and bit off all my nails, outwardly I played the part.  

Strong.  Confident.  Assured.

If I've learned anything as Coach this season, it's this:

Fake it 'till you make it.

And that is what I did.  All week long.  Faked it with the best of them.

And ran.

Cause nothing relieves stress in my life like running.  So what did I do the morning of Regionals?  I ran the Iron Mom half-marathon.  It couldn't have been planned for a better time.  Nothing was gonna blow those jitters out like 13.1 miles.  I do believe that race kept me sane that day.  Calmed the inner storm.  Kept the breathing steady.

Based on the rankings, I had five athletes who had a great shot at making it to state:  Zach, MacKenzie, Brett, Joshua and Sophie.  I had another relay team that was within reach, and a few other athletes that could potentially gut out a spot.

With Joshua and Sophie in the mix, their Mimi and Dadoo were coming to the meet to surprise them.  Grandparents and 'big life moments' mix together in a beautiful way, making for a wonderful day regardless of outcomes.

The first race of the day was the 4X8 relay.  Brett, Josh, Zach and MacKenzie lined up, sporting the retro white head bands.  It was a good look.

Brett led us off and got us in a good position.

Josh was next.  While we dropped back to third, it was still tight.  We were okay.

Zach was the third leg.  He kept us in a tight third place on the first lap.

He passed St. Mary's on the second lap, moving us into a strong second.

MacKenzie took the baton and secured a second place for us.

He moved steadily up on Murray, the first place team.  Here they are crossing the finish line.  Had he another few yards, I really believe he would have gotten first!

Second, though, secured a spot to state.  OUR RELAY TEAM WAS GOING TO STATE!

We celebrated for a few moments and then got back to business.  Throwing, 110 hurdles, 100 yard dash...I cheered, I encouraged, I coached AND I tried to ignore the nervous pit in my stomach as my daughter's race got closer and closer.

And finally, finally it was upon us.  The race that had had me in knots all week.  The race that truly was a toss-up.  It was time for the moment of truth.  Toeing the line for the 1600, my daughter waited for that gun to fire.  Every time one of my children gets up to the start line, I relive my own race day jitters from when I was in high school.  Yes, those feelings come back in FULL FORCE. 

I wrung my hands and prayed.

As they waited, the announcer called out by name the top three runners in the race based on this season's times and emphasized the fact that only two would qualify for state.  Sophie was one of those named.

Oh the pressure.

I wrung my hands and prayed.

The gun went off and Sophie was quick out of the shoot.  Sophie has a history of going out way too fast and not having enough juice at the end of the race.  Especially when she's nervous.  Oh, you wouldn't have wanted to have been near me.  Just call me Negative Nancy.

'She went out too fast.  Her 200 time is way too fast.  Her 400 is ten seconds too fast.  She is not pacing herself.  This is not good...'  

They came around the curve out of the first lap, she in a steady third.

Lap two, Sophie on the inside:

Lap three:

Could she do it?  The anticipation, the wait, was just too much.

Lap four, coming around the curve, down the final stretch, she was still in third.  All of us screaming-hoarse, 'Go, Sophie, Go!'

And then she made her move

Sprinting to the finish line.  She did it!  She did it!  She did it!  She got second.  She ran her fastest this season!  

She was going to state.

I can't believe it.  I can't believe it.  I can't believe it.  Did I say I can't believe it?

First as a mom, second as a coach, or was it first as a coach and second as a mom?  Whichever way you diced it, I couldn't have been prouder!

Looking back, I'm not sure why I thought all those negative things...Sophie actually ran a very smart race.  She adjusted to the rhythm of the race and she didn't worry about splits or times, she just raced.  It taught me a lot that day.  That no two races are ever the same.  You have to adjust and stay with the front runners and sometimes run a different race than your used to.

And so we basked in this moment.  But it was just that--a moment. Because the very next race up was the boys 1600 meter run.  I had Zach and Joshua running in this one.  I wasn't too concerned about Zach--he was so far ahead of the rest that aside from something out of the ordinary--I knew he would get first.  Second though was going to be a tough one.  Joshua was going to have to run his fastest all season to secure it.  My stomach, oh my stomach.

They lined up at the start line:

Here they are either rounding the second or third lap.  Zach in first,  Josh in second and their buddy Leighton in third.  He was sticking close to Joshua...too close for comfort.

Another lap, and there is a pack of four of them all together.  The mom in me (or the coach in me?  which is it?!)--anyway, the coach-mom in me is screaming her head off...

And then--it clearly becomes a tough mom moment.  Sophie received her award for the 1600 at the exact time that Joshua got  beat in the 1600.  In fact, it was his worst ran race all year.  How do you absorb the shock of the two conflicting events?  It was definitely a strange mix of emotions.  I'll never forget this picture of Sophie watching her brother's greatest defeat while she received her greatest award. 

As a parent, so sad Eric and I were for our son, yet as coaches so ecstatic for these two seniors, Zach and Leighton.  This picture captures the satisfaction in Leighton's face and oh, we couldn't help but be happy for him!  He had ran a great race and his very best time for the season.  

And Zach--  He was going to state!  This boy was special, through and through.  A heart of gold, this boy has.  I love this boy like my very own.  I couldn't have been more thrilled.  

Yet, I couldn't help feeling the crushing blow for Joshua...such a great, hard-working kid, who happened to be my kid.  

Unfortunately, I couldn't wear my mom hat very long because I had athletes continuing to compete.  And sometimes after a race like that, it's just best not to dwell.  It's best to move on...especially when you have another race.  Which Joshua did.  The 3200.  If he was going to qualify individually it was going to have to be in this one.  As my husband is fond of saying, 'You better suck it up.'

Harsh yet the only good advice in a moment like this.

Suck it up and move on.

And that's what we did.  He moved on and re-focused his attention on the 3200.  And I moved on and re-focused...on the 800 meter dash.

MacKenzie and Brett.  Solid as a rock those two.  Both of them, so strong.

Just like Zach in the 1600, MacKenzie most likely had this one in the bag (of course, I didn't even come close to saying those words out loud then, but I can say it now!).  Second place, though, was going to be a battle.  Oh, how badly I wanted Brett to win!  Mostly because I knew with every fiber of my being how strong he was.  He was our Dark Horse--he was under the radar, in my opinion.  I hoped with every inch of my being that he'd surprise the masses that day!

The gun went off and MacKenzie took charge of that race  immediately.  He got out front and owned it.

  
And Brett was on the brink the entire race....  

He was in fifth, then fourth, then third...  I think I yelled more in that race than any of them that day.

It came down to the wire.  Brett was gaining and gaining on the guy in second...and they were getting closer and closer to the finish.

Yet in the end Brett crossed over the finish line just a nose away--a nose away--from going to state.  I know without a doubt that boy would have won if that race had been a few steps longer.   But unfortunately, it's not the 805 meter dash, it's the 800.

MacKenzie, though, was going to state!  I was not surprised one bit.  He was fierce.  He was competitive.  I knew without a doubt he would pull it out.

And before I could blink an eye, it was time for the 3200.  Oh me.  Oh my.  I'll just tell you.  I prayed like crazy that we would finish 1st and 2nd in that race.  

Zach than Joshua.  Please Lord.

They began in this order...

And, I'll just cut to the chase because a 3200 is a crazy-long race, and most people really don't care to hear the play by play....

They finished in that order--Zach, first and Joshua, second!

Zach and Joshua were going to state!  Heart overflowing for my senior, heart overflowing for my own flesh and blood.

Happy, so happy I was about these five athletes.  They had come.  They had saw.  They had conquered.  They had earned their ticket.

Eric and I made the road trip to Louisville last Saturday with these five--three of them seniors.  The 4X8 got tenth, Zach got 11th in the 3200 and MacKenzie got 13th.  They each ran their personal best (PR).  I was very proud as their coach!

My two--Joshua and Sophie--did not PR.  One of them actually didn't run so very well and has recently hit some rough terrain in his world of running.  

This is where Mom overrides Coach...in the difficulty of defeat, Mom and Dad are there to put their arms around their son and remind him of the bigger picture.  To remind him that win or lose:

'We love you.  God loves you.  This love is not based on results.  It's not even based on how you respond to the results.' 

There is no ticket to earn when it comes to God's love.

Simply, plainly, 'HE LOVES YOU.  NO MATTER WHAT.'


'I have known and believed the love that God has for me.  God is love; and I, who dwell in love, dwell in God, and God dwells in me.'  
                                                  1 John 4:16

Mother's Day Through the Eyes of a Six Year Old

This past Mother's Day was one I want to never forget.  Not only were we still riding the high from the day before (Regionals), my six-year-old made this day extra special with his sweet-thoughtfulness intertwined with 'down-right funny' (he didn't know it was funny, which made it funnier!).  I am writing this down so I can go back and read it one day (maybe at his wedding!).  May you get as much laughter out of this as we did:

I awoke to someone tapping on my head.  I peered at the clock.  It read 5:45 AM.

What was anyone doing up at 5:45 AM on the weekend?  And on Sunday of all days?

An excited six-year-old voice half-whispered, "It's Mother's Day!"

I half-whispered back, in a not-so-kind voice, 'Go back to bed!'  

Like that would work.  Saying that never works.  

Another half-whisper:  'It's Mother's Day!'

So I resorted to the tactic reserved for emergency situations: "Why don't you go back upstairs and play the Wii?"

Certain I had warded him off at the pass, I snuggled down into my covers and began drifting back into Neverland.

'HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!!!!!!!!!'

Yelling at the top of his lungs, jumping up and down on our bed, he could not contain his excitement any longer.  

I sighed and began the long, painful process of getting out of bed at 5:45 on a weekend.  When I got in the kitchen, Owen was trying to look sad, but the grin that kept overtaking his frown while his eyes danced was a dead give away that it was all a big act. 

"I wish I could give you a Mother's Day present.  Oh, I wish I had one for you."  

I played along, knowing full well he had made me something in his Kindergarten class.  

Then, lickety-split, he busted out of the kitchen and back in with a gift bag.  Thrusting it in my face, he yelled, "HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!!!"

He jumped up and down in anticipation as he waited for me to open it.

As much as I loved that he had a gift for me, I loved watching him give it to me even more.

I opened my gift.  It was a hand-made journal with a note on the front page:

AND

A story all about Mom:

My Mom's favorite TV show is:  The Bible.  Even though it's something way more holy, like Duck Dynasty or Property Brothers, I won't bust his bubble.

When my mom is driving she: sings

My olders would tell you that what I attempt to do, they wouldn't really call singing.

It bugs my mom when: you annoy me

(I think he got that a little mixed up?)

I love it when my mom:  kisses me

Love this one with all my heart.    

To relax my mom likes to: lay down on the couch and watch TV.

It appears I  am watching my favorite TV show the Bible :) 

 I wish I could buy my mom a new car.

Wow.  

Mom:  loving, kind, smart, caring

 Please don't grow up and quit thinking these things.  Ever.

I love when my mom cooks: pies

So, I am not sure I have ever made a pie???  And definitely not in a hot, purple outfit with matching heels!

My mom's favorite song is Madagascar.  She sings like an angel.
Madagascar?  Huh?

My mom is special because she teaches me about Jesus.
Heart burst.  Tears.  Too Much.

I am the author.  My name is Owen.  I am six years old.  I love my mom.
Did I mention that he just might be my favorite???

Nevermind that I just got this note from him two days ago:

My non-Italian, oh-so-Italian son.  Impassioned and ridiculously excessive in all his reactions.  Always in the heat of the moment.

So, this gift--this in itself was enough to put my Mother's Day over the top.  

But it gets better.

Owen then asked if he could make Mimi a Mother's Day present (they were at our house for the weekend and not up yet).  He wanted to cut her some flowers from outside and make her 'a book'.

I helped him with the flowers and then he went to work on her card.

Sometime later he once again burst into the kitchen, overflowing with excitement.  He thrust the fresh cut flowers into Mimi's face, yelling, "HAPPY MIMI'S DAY!!!'  (He didn't want to call it Mother's Day to her because she is a Mimi, of course.)

And here is the card he gave her:

First page: "My Mimi is always caring for me.  My mimi is smart, kind, caring.

Second page: "My Mimi is so nice and she is 67.  When she dies I would be sad.  But cheer up when I die.  I will get to see her."

Oh my goodness.  Do we call this 'deep thinking' or 'deeply disturbed?'  

When we finally recovered from this, he said, very matter-of-factly, "I think there needs to be 'Owen's Day'.  You get a Mother's Day.  Why isn't there 'Owen's Day'?"

He may not realize this now, but it was an 'Owen's Day'.  

100% to the brim and overflowing--
                                        an Owen's Day.

The Trifecta

Every year on the Friday before Derby, Concord Elementary holds a Derby of their own with all the festivities.  Prior to this day, each class has a race to pick their fastest girl and boy to represent them in the Derby.  On Derby Day, grade by grade, the representatives from each class square off against one another, sprinting the approximately 100 meters around the pick/up drop/off circle in front of the school.

Throughout this whole year we've heard about Derby Day at Concord.  Being apart of our crazy running family has made our boys a 'crazy' by osmosis, so they were dead-set determined to be in this race! 

Each of them, indeed, won the race to represent their class.  Not surprisingly, when Friday morning arrived, there was great excitement in our home.  There was no special prodding needed to get up that morning.  Owen, especially.  He jumped right out of bed and exclaimed, 'It's Derby Day!'  He took great pains to dress the part that day, wearing his favorite shorts and black Nike socks that went up to his knees (trying his best to copy the performance sock look that his older brother sports).

My friend jokingly said she was putting her money on a Grogan Trifecta.

That afternoon, we crossed our fingers that the dark skies would hold back the bucketful of rains predicted.  The ominous looking skies stayed at bay and students and parents alike stood by to cheer.

No Derby is ever official without a rendition of 'Our Old Kentucky Home' (sung by the fifth grade choir):

And a parade of beautiful homemade hats:

As beautiful as they were, I think this one might have been my fav:

Then it was off to the races!

The first group of horses racers, were the Kindergartners.  Owen walked up, clad in his long black socks with his jaw set and eyes ablazing.  I only wish I could capture in pictures the transformation that happens in this child when he is running.  Ridiculously impassioned, he is.  One can only laugh at the serious stature that overtakes this usually happy-go-lucky six-year-old.  If this boy didn't win, he sure was going to die trying.

And they're off!

As they rounded the corner, Owen and his fellow Kindergartner were neck and neck.

They went out of view for approximately five seconds, but it felt like five minutes.  Finally they rounded the last corner, and we squinted to see who had taken the lead.

He tried with all his might and got second!  We were so proud of him!

Soon, it was time for the second grade race.  Jeremiah is the one in the tie-dye.




He got out in a flash!



We again wait an eternity for them to round that corner...




What I love most about watching Jeremiah run is the fact that he alwasy looks like he is smiling.  I guess you can't help to let it show all over when you are doing something you love.

Jeremiah won!  The best part about it was watching his teacher jump up and down.  That's her in the picture and yes she is as fun as she looks!

Soon it was time for the last race of the day--the fifth graders.  They lined up, a cross between 'I'm too cool for this' and 'deep down really caring about winning'.

And off they went!

They finally rounded that corner.  Oh, it was tight!

But in the end, his buddy pulled ahead.

Second place is a beautiful thing when the runner-up can turn and shake the hand of the winner after the race.  I think this is what I will remember most about this day.  

A Trifecta of sorts.  The first and last time such will ever happen in the history of the Grogan home.  Cause my middle born is headed off to middle school next year.  

There might be no more Trifectas, but I might be persuaded to bet on a Daily Double.  Time shall tell.