Over the past few days, I have had several humbling experiences. Or as a good friend of mine would say, I have eaten several pieces of "humble pie." I love this friend and I also really love pie, so this analogy works well for me.
The first "humble pie" experience came when I decided to hop back on a bike after...um, three months away. It was wonderful to be back on the bike and I remembered all the things I love about biking, but it also hurt in all the places it hurts when you get back on a bike after three months. Yikes.
Then, I decided a day later to head back to the pool after, well, three months of being away. Noticing a trend here? Much like biking, it felt so good to be back in the water and back with a great group of masters swimmers. But again, ouch.
My friend says that eating the pieces of humble pie is good for the soul. I agree and am happy for the experiences. The ironman is a faint glimmer in the distance, but I can see it!
Meanwhile at school, today was a big day in my classroom. A really big day.
Volcano day!
In case you couldn't tell from the picture, today was volcano day in my classroom. If you haven't ever heard of volcano day, don't be alarmed, because it is a day totally created by my students. Volcano day is the day that we "make the volcanoes blow up!"
And by blow up, I mean put baking soda and vinegar inside clay volcanoes and watch them bubble over. While this may seem simple and boring, it is wildly exciting for my kids and they have been counting down the days since we started the unit three weeks ago. They loved it, I loved it, everybody was happy. It was one of those days as a teacher that makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside and really good about the work you do. I love those days.
So while my arms and legs and well, everything, are sore from biking and swimming after a long break, I am thankful that after quite a few experiences of eating humble pie at school this year, volcano day was a big success!
This school year got off to a rocky start. There is absolutely nothing wrong with my students and I have not been anywhere near miserable, but it has been an incredibly challenging fall. My students have more energy than the Kenyan runners who lead the marathon and sitting down to work on multiplication tables, or anything for that matter, is completely unappealing to them.
I spent the first month pulling my hair out, trying any incentive I could think of...ok, I was bribing, to get them to sit down for even five minutes. It didn't work.
I tried going old school and putting names on the board with check-marks and threats of calling home and staying in from recess. It kind of worked. But then it didn't.
Day by day through the months of September it did get better, slowly but surely. But it wasn't great. I came home many nights with tears in my eyes because it just didn't feel good.
As a fifth year teacher, I still battle the "you don't know what you're doing" demons. A fellow teacher at my school says that even after 20 years of teaching, she still battles the same thing sometimes. Nobody is perfect, not even your teacher. And I don't care who you are, there is nothing worse than feeling like you are trying with everything you have, and it is still failing.
Now, this little story does not end with the perfect solution and high fives all around from my students as we march into high levels of achievement. But, it does have a happy ending.
This past week something really wonderful happened. It was Wednesday morning at 11am. This time has been the worst time of day all year. Our school day starts at 7:45 and lunch for my kids is at 12:30. 11am is when everybody has run out of steam and my kids would really like to run around the building screaming. And I would too.
Throughout the fall, I have come to dread 11am. I watch the clock as it creeps closer and often get a stomach ache as I know the storm is coming. Behaviors get crazy, I get cranky, and as my husband would say, nobody wins.
So, last Wednesday, I asked my kids about it. I often think we as adults forget that this is something that really works. If you ask kids what's the matter, they will most often tell you. I asked them if they noticed that 11am was the worst. They all nodded their heads. We talked about the reasons why and all decided that by that time in the morning, they were tired and ready for recess and lunch.
We all thought of potential solutions. I especially liked their idea of "running a marathon like you!" I imagine my students and I setting out for a 26.2 mile run at 11am every day. I actually don't completely doubt that many of them would make it.
But instead, I asked them if they wanted to try yoga. There was a long silence. They stared at me as if I had three heads. And then, they said yes.
We pulled out yoga mats and I showed them a few poses. They all loved child's pose, downward dog made them giggle, and they had incredible focus when it was time for tree. I told them the only rule was that they had to stay on their own mats and when I was reading or giving directions they had to listen.
The awesome part happened next. My students, my squirrelly, energetic, slightly off-the-wall students, took out their reading work and went to it. They worked and worked. I read aloud and they listened. I asked them questions, and they responded. All the while taking breaks to stretch out into down-dog or bridge. It was adorable and heartwarming and it totally worked.
I have no illusion this will work every day. I'm not even sure it will work tomorrow. And I have no idea if this will be a permanent fix. But right now, I am so happy that we had a good day. And I keep thinking of my sweet student's words on his way to lunch, "Ms. Rajanen, I think I learn better on a yoga mat!"
I am happy to be back on this little blog after a whirlwind of a summer and early fall. Following the 70.3 ironman, I was lucky enough to marry my best friend, train for a marathon, stand next to two of my best friends as they married their now husbands, and start the school year with a classroom full of energetic students. My life feels full and wonderful and busy and I wouldn't have it any other way.
My very favorite day.
Two weekends ago was the twin cities marathon. One of my final stops on my summer/early fall whirlwind adventure tour. This was my second attempt at this marathon, and I say attempt because my first time running it was last fall and it was a giant disaster of vomit and fainting. Although I knew time for training would be limited, when registration opened for this year's race, I knew I had to do it. It was time to, as my best friend says, kick it in the tail (she uses another word, but the sentiment is the same).
The TC Marathon is referred to by Minnesotans as the most beautiful urban marathon in the United States and after running it from start to finish, I would have to agree. The course begins in downtown Minneapolis, winds its way around the chain of lakes, crosses the river into St. Paul and ends in downtown St. Paul in front of the state capitol.
I have never had such a happy racing experience. This was mostly because I truly was not racing. My best friend Alyssa started the race with me (this included waiting in a parking garage to stay warm before the race, bless her heart!) and we laughed our way through the first few miles. I kept a nice steady pace through the rest of it. I knew I wasn't going fast and I didn't care. No running watch to watch my pace, I completely ignored the pacing signs, I just ran.
Staying warm in the parking garage pre-marathon!
My amazing mom and other best buddy Brittany were out on the course in several different places and I loved every time I got to see them. I am incredibly biased, but the the fans along the course were the best I've ever seen. Minnesota nice was running through and through.
I won't lie though, the whole marathon was not sunshine and rainbow. There were some pretty ugly parts as well. Miles 21-23 of the course are uphill. And by uphill, I do not mean rolling hills. Nope. I mean it is all uphill for the whole 2-3 miles. At this point of the run, you can hear a lot of grunts. There are a lot of jokes being told between runners, and a lot of, what the heck were we thinking? It hurts. A lot. But then, I made it past mile 23 and it was downhill into the finish line. I finished feeling a little delirious but really, really happy.
So now here I am on Columbus Day. The Chicago Public Schools takes this day as a holiday. No, I don't have any idea why and yes, I object to celebrating Christopher Columbus. But, like anybody else, I love a day off to catch up on the million things that have been waiting for me over the past few months and I am also loving the opportunity to reflect on the past six months of wonderful and the next six months to come.
In early September, thanks to a very wonderful co-worker of mine, I was able to sneak away from my students for a few minutes to make a very big decision. I registered for Ironman Wisconsin. Yep, the whole, big, hard-to-even-wrap-your-head-around-it, Ironman. 140.6 miles. Ufda.
To be honest, it was only today (thank you, Columbus Day) that I finally had a chance to really think about that decision and what it means. For one thing, it means 24 weeks of training. As far as I've seen, it doesn't become really intense until June/July and lucky for me this coming summer looks to be a little more relaxed than the last. But it also means a lot of miles put in on the bike, in the pool, and in my running shoes. I have no doubt it will be exhausting and challenging in ways I probably don't even understand yet.
I am nervous and excited all at the same time. The thought of crossing that Ironman finish line makes my toes tingle and my husband tells me that lately I've been talking about it in my sleep. It's going to be awesome.
But mostly at this moment I am excited that I have a few months to build my base before the real training starts in January. It's time to slow down, get back in the water and on my bike, and remember how much I love going for an early morning swim. The next few months are all about building my base. Hence the title of this blog post, in case you were wondering. For the next few months, I intend to be all about that base...and I also intend to continue dancing and singing to this song every chance I get. If you haven't heard it, here you go...I dare you not to dance!
