Learning to let go of control
Dear Izzy, Max, and Kate,
I woke at 4:30am on Sunday – Father’s Day. I climbed on my bike at 5:15 and rode 43 miles. Mostly moderate-to-hard miles, feeling like the extra effort might make up for the miles I felt like I wasn’t doing, but should be.
You girls jumped from behind the couch and surprised me when I got home at 7:45. Once Max woke we ate donuts at the table. You had chocolate milk while I sipped my second cup of coffee.
I loaded 1000 pounds of peaches from the house into the truck in 50 pound increments – then moved them a 2nd time as I arranged them for the trip downtown. When I arrived I unloaded the same 1000 pounds. 3000 pounds of lifting after 43 miles.
I was still tired from doing the same process the day before. But I’m happy for work that feels real and allows me to show you kids effort.
Around lunch time Mommy brought you all to the market to surprise me for Father’s Day.
You helped me bag peaches for awhile. Then you drank Icees and played ring-around-the-rosey while shoppers and other vendors looked on.
It was a great Father’s Day. I didn’t spend it on the couch, watching a ball game, being catered to. The way I spent it was even better.
It’s easy to get overwhelmed as the story unfolds.
There’s a feeling that still grips me for a brief moment each day – then relents, as freedom and possibility breathe back into me.
Lately, as I’ve told the story of what I’m doing and why I left security behind, it occurs to me that with each passing day I’m beginning to appreciate the small things again – as I begin to let go of the control.
Being outside after dark.
My feet in the grass.
The sound of laughter in our house.
5 old sticky popsicle sticks resting on the arm of the adirondack chairs on the front porch.
Pushing you on the swings.
Always higher. Higher. Higher.
Maybe a backyard camp-out soon.
Our favorite songs in the kitchen in the morning light.
Memories, like the way a mountain river tastes
and how long it’s been since I’ve been under water like that.
Watching you dance and sing
oblivious to the whole thing spinning around in circles
and yet to consider how we’re tied to it.
It’s easy to get overwhelmed by the story when you stay focused on how it might end.
Writing these letters to you helps me remember that each day is beautiful and worth reflection
in its own way
small things that may go unnoticed otherwise.
Icees at the Farmer’s Market on Father’s Day.
And no constant worry about fitting the pieces together just the right way so that the future picture turns out just so.
Izzy, Sunday night you brushed your teeth in mine and Mommy’s bathroom before going to your bed.
“Look how tall she’s gotten,” said Mommy as you walked away.
Your shoulders are broad and muscular now. I felt a little sad as I agreed and thought about you being a baby just yesterday.
Max and Kate, you two laugh at and with each other until you’re both out of breath now. It makes me happy to see you laugh until it hurts.
It’s all a bit rambling lately; my letters to you…and life in general. And for now, that’s how we want things.
I love you,
Saturday: Ran 6 miles (progression run)
Sunday: Rode 43 miles
Monday: rest (begin race week taper for Old Hickory lake triathlon)
Tuesday: Swam 1200 / run planned
ps. One of my great sponsors GOLD BOND sent me samples of their new powder spray product to try out. It’s been awesome as I work outside this summer. Love it! It’s a great way to stay comfortable on hot muggy days.