My '12 Insights

• Be a little kinder than necessary

• It is more difficult for me to receive than it is to give, yet equally important

• Allow myself to fully experience every single emotion that comes up

• No, I have not moved beyond, above, over, around or past...I've simply moved forward

• My career isn't what drives me, it's my passion that is in the driver's seat and sometimes I break the speed limit and run a red light now and then

• Drugs and their ill-effects are awful, addictions ruin lives and not just those of the addicts

• A plan is nice, it is also nice to be able to go with the flow

• A new phrase that got me through many stressful moments: this is about you and your journey, not me and mine

• I will always be a crazy dreamer, and no, I'm not the only one

• I didn't know what I was capable of until I faced something I didn't think I was capable of 

• People really do feel, see, hear, experience the dead; spirits exist in my daily reality

• I am worth it

I only gave myself 12 minutes to reflect back on 2012 and pull out the 12 insights I've gained this past year. The above is what came to me, unedited. I may go back later and expand on some, or I may leave them alone. What have you learned from 2012?

Now I know

Today's thoughts have come up in past posts: One More Minute.

Last time I focused on being able to do anything for one more minute as a means of self-motivation to the next mile marker.

Today I tried that trick on myself and I thought about my grandma.

More than that, I thought what would one more minute be like with her? And then with my dad.

Just one more minute. Seems odd, when running at a 7:30 minute mile, it seems one minute lasts an eternity. We struggle just to get through a minute sometimes. But I wonder... Would it be enough time to squeeze in all the love? Wash clean the bad feelings? Express all that needed and wanted to be expressed?

Why do I think that one minute would be enough when 68 and 52 years respectively weren't.

Because now I know. Now I know death is real. Now I know that it is an ending, but not the finite ending. Now I know that a minute of love is much more important than a nano-second of ill-will, hard feelings and resentment. Now I know.

If I could have just one more minute, I'd make it count. I don't know how, but I sure would try. Because now I know...or at least that's my 26.2 cents worth...if you had just one more minute, what would you do? And what's preventing you ?

Old Friend, We Meet Again

I am learning more and more each week how out of it I was this year. People are telling me things, events, speeches, classes, etc, that I was involved in, gave, delivered, taught and I'm clueless. This was hammered home today by the level of difficulty in running the short 3.3 miles around Iroquois Park. Not too long ago, I was running from my house to Iroquois Park (1.6 miles) then around the park at least 2-3 times (7+ miles at minimum) and back home (another 1.6 miles). Today, I *drove* to the park and still barely made it around the 3.2 mile base. And I stopped to take a walking break.

Ugh. 

This sucks. 

What the heck happend!? 

I stopped putting in the work. Plain and simple. I rested on my laurels. Literally. And today, I expected to be able to conquer the park in the same 24-27 minutes I did last year. 30 minutes later I realized it was preposterous for me to expect that. And so it is. I've lost contact with the park. With my muscles. With my lung. With my future. With my past. With my life. With my motivation. With the insides of my thighs (did they burn like that last time I started running!?). With my head (pounding). With myself. 

As I was rounding the final hill I realized this is much like my life. I lived in Florida for 8 years. During those 8 years, I gradually lost contact with my Louisville people and connected with an equally fabulous group of Florida people. They became my support network. My Family. My confidants. My influence. My life. And now.... I haven't put in the work. It is preposterous to think that I'll maintain the same level of relationship with my Florida friends if I don't work for it. My friend S and I have played phone tag since my birthday (a month now) and finally connected briefly yesterday. It was good to catch up. But it was like running through the park--a little different. Familiar. Comfortable. Comforting. Welcomed. But different. 

I miss my Florida people and I've not found that same connection here in Louisville just yet. But it took me about four years in Florida-I'm entering my 3rd here. It's odd. Being on familiar turf, but knowing few and connecting with even fewer. It will take time, but I will be back. And so will my friend-network. 

Come to think of it, it's just like my running journey. It has had its ups and downs. The more effort I put forth, the more I yield. The more I give the more I receive. For one who is both an introvert and a non-runner the following is true of making friends and of running: it's not easy and staying on the couch is a much more alluring alternative but where does that get me? 

So there you have it...awkwardly trudging forward, trying to find my place in the running and friendship world. I'll get to the finish line one of these days, for now, in the words of Vivian (a presenter I had the opportunity to recently see), "a DLF > DNF > DNS" or "a dead last finish is greater than a did not finish , which is better than a did not show." At least that's my and Vivian's 26.2 friendcents worth...

First World Problems

The last couple of weeks I've been struggling on the home front. Actually, the house front to be more accurate. a floor fell in, bathroom had to be redone, walls fixed, roof replaced, furnace replaced, central heat installed and now the hot water heater replaced. I've not had my house all in one piece for 4-6 weeks. Which also means I've not had my home in one piece.

I've put on as many as six blankets to stay warm. I've showered at my mom's and the YMCA for over a week. I've boiled water to do the dishes. I've washed towels and sheets in cold water. 

One phrase comes to mind: First World Problems. 

It's true, I've been inconvenienced but at least I have running water, and water that won't even make me sick when I drink it! I have dishes to wash and food to make them need to be washed. I have a car to take me to the Y, heck, we even have BUILDINGS dedicated to just getting in shape! I have seven floors from which to choose my workout. I have safe roads that I can run on, and refuel with a glass of ice-cold water into which I can mix my Emergen-C for that extra boost of immunity. I have used six blankets in a single night, but I could have used any of the 5 more should I have needed them. 

These are the things that came into my head yesterday as I was ticking off my 10,000 steps in circles around the track. It's only about 3 miles or so...without sounding cliche, there are people who would probably be relieved if they had to walk ONLY 10,000 steps to get to work, school, home, doctor, water, food, etc. Yes...10,000 steps; 10,000 thoughts. 

Two thoughts should permeate them all: First World Problems and I am blessed. At least that's my twenty six point two cents worth. . . 

Marathon Grade Stock

I think that perhaps I failed at my most recent attempt to train for and run a marathon because I relegated it to just that: Running a marathon. It's so much more. It's a way of life that merely includes running as a conduit to the rest.

It's about being a healthier, whole person.

I say this from a lazy position on my couch, covered in a warm & fuzzy blanket that I have NO idea where I got it. Oh, and turkey stock is simmering on the stove, now entering it's second hour. Both times I've been successful at a full marathon I approached it with all my might. I drank smoothies for dessert, I ran with other runners, I cross trained and stretched, I got into the zone and stayed there all 26.2 miles. This time, I did none of that with much commitment or determination. I just ran. And then I stopped.

So as most Americans (myself included) are still in a post-gluttony stupor, suffering from indigestion and lethargy might I broaden this blog to include how to be healthier so you can finish whatever marathons you may literally or metaphorically be facing?

My turkey stock recipe:
First enjoy as much meat from the turkey as you and your family can. THEN...

Scrape off any remaining meat you can, you can use this in sammiches, pot pie, stir fry or putting in turkey soup later.

Throw the bones, fat, juices, etc. into a BIG ol pot.
Cut up an onion (or two, whatever you have)
Put in a couple things of celery (be sure to keep the celery leaves on, they add so much pizazz!)
Slice up some garlic (I love garlic and it's REALLY good for you, so I add double what most people do, I use 4 cloves, NOT bulbs mind you)
couple shakes of peppercorn (if I had to guess, I'd say at least  teaspoon maybe a tablespoon?)
Three FRESH Bay leaves (the trick to good flavor from bay leaves lies in their freshness)
Chopped herbs which may include: cilantro, thyme, oregano (I avoid sage as I can my stock and sage does not can well)
10-14 cups of cold water.

Simmer on LOW heat for 3-4 hours. Let cool. Strain (I just put through my pasta strainer, some recipes call for expensive sieve things)). Let sit in fridge overnight. Skim fat. (sometimes I'll reheat, recool, reskim...depends on how low fat you want it). Be mindful the stock will congeal due to the natural bone simmering as opposed to the gross stuff from the store). Before I started canning, I would freeze in two cup amounts in zip lock bags. Lay them flat to freeze, then stack on top to conserve space. Now I can them at 10 lbs pressure for 75 minutes.

Voila, you have fresh, organic (if you choose), low fat and low sodium marathon-grade stock. I hope you enjoy! Remember...running a marathon is about WAY more than running...it's about completing a marathon. or at least that's my 26.2 cents worth and hey, that's about what the serving of stock cost too!

I'm back

I'm back. I'm sore. I'm cranky. I'm sweaty. I have a cough. I'm cold. I'm jittery. I'm slow. I'm like a clydesdale. I'm remorseful. I'm upset. I'm contemplative. I'm remembering. I'm regretful. Most importantly, I'm back.

Due to a variety of reasons which include injury, grief, lack of motivation and ESPECIALLY the journey to prepare my home and my heart for a child, I took several months off. I gained some extra weight and I kept saying, "I'll start next week...tomorrow...later today...next week looks good..." and so it went for about two months. TWO MONTHS of not running. I pity those that were around me and had to endure. But I'm back. And that's what is important, right?

Usually, I can summons the motivation internally to get out and pound out a few miles, that just wasn't happening. At an open house a friend of mine mentioned the Humana Vitality program where you could earn points for a free greenhouse. Free? <ears perked, head cocked sideways> Yes. Free. And so I signed up. You do things like workout, get cpr certified, get a physical, etc. and you earn points. One quick way to earn a lot of points is to take the Vitality assessment. And so I did. And wow...it has my Vitality age at 40, though I'm only 34! I answered honestly with my lifestyle today, not what it "normally" is. And I'm back. And that's what is important, right?

I'm back to my old habits. Eating candy and sweets daily. Drinking a soda a day. Not eating fruits and veggies like I KNOW I should. I'm back. And so is my weight, bad complexion and jeans that barely fit. I'm back. And that's what is important, right?

So I was shocked back into reality. I bought leaner meats. More fruits. And saute'ed some greens in a light olive oil. I am reducing my sodas (elimination is the goal) and candy too. My sweets will be tackled on another day, I have to take this challenge one obstacle at a time. I have power over it, it no longer has power over me. Yes, I'm back. And that's what is important, right?

So today, on a day when I know I'm going to eat thousands of calories (Thanksgiving) I laced up my shoes and decided I'd move for 30 minutes. I didn't care how far, I just cared how long. 35 minutes and 3.5 miles later I can say, I'm fucking back and that's what's important!

Two-Named Post

Name #1: Warning: Keep Out!
Name #2: Apologetic Living b'damn'd!

I'm not sure where this one is going so just follow me...could be a bumpy ride.

I had three runs last week while in the DC/Maryland area working a camp. Let me start by saying I had the time of my life! I was surrounded by such good and good-hearted people, the kids were amazing and impressive, the camp went smoothly (save for a midnight false-firealarm), yada yada yada.

Sunset over Breton Bay

My first run of the week went as follows: What's that? Rain. Great. Alarm. What's that? Heavier rain awesome. Snooze. Alarm. What's that? Heaviest rain. Great.

I eventually got up, laced up, stretched out, put my phone in a zip lock bag and headed out for a wet and glorious run. I was soaked head to toe within minutes. In a refreshing way. And what came to me was an innocent comment made by a fellow staff member. Their comment went something like my unassuming and "unapologetic" way of living my life as a man who happens to be gay made it easy for the male staff and campers to embrace me and see me as a whole person. I know they meant this as a compliment, and I know that I want to take it as one. However. . . what came to mind as I was turning a half circle at a wharf on Breton Bay was WTF did you expect me to do, say sorry for being gay? And then I realized that yes, they probably DID expect that because society *tells* us we have to apologize for being different, whatever category of different one may fall into. We nonchalantly say things like, "I hope this doesn't make you uncomfortable...I don't mean to make you uncomfortable...I'm going to go solo because they're not ready to see me with another man..." the list of ways we subconsciously apologize for being who we are goes on and on. I don't think we even MEAN it as an apology but seriously, I think it is. I'm not sorry that my being gay makes you uncomfortable, this isn't about me and my need to apologize it's about you in this moment. Actually, me being gay isn't about you at all, it's all about me and my partner (were I to have one).

me sewing

I stopped living apologetically years ago. Ironically, this is when I feel like I became accepted by most straight people. I don't care if you accept me or not. I'm not going to ask you to apologize for being straight so please don't ask me to apologize for being gay.

my pepper jelly 

Like that's all that I am anyway. . . a runner, a brother, a son, a gardener (a miserable gardener LOL), a crafter, a mentor, an uncle, a grandson (well, they're all dead now but I was), an Executive Director, a frugal budgeter, a park enthusiast, a beach lover, a thinker, a learner, a canner, a former musician, an artist, a daytime napper...

quilt for my grandma

Anyway, I guess this was fueled by a little anger and . . . wait for it. . . I'm not sorry for it and if you're offended that's ok, just don't apologize for crying out loud! at least that's my twentytwopointsixcentsworth

Power!

(disclosure: This is a long one. No pictures. No links. The Power in this lies in reading it uninterrupted from start to finish.)

This run was couched in themes of POWER.

It was a Powerful run. My last long run was the pits, so I needed a good one to boost my spirits. It was Powerful.

I summonsed a Power that lied outside of me, channeled that to within me and then had the Power to say no to going to a great show Saturday night, get up at 5:30 a.m. on Sunday to get my run in before having the will-Power to *still* make it to church.

I took Power naps all day Sunday (2.5) to recover from my Powerful run.

But really, what prompted this theme on Power was a Powerful comment directed towards me Saturday. I organized a clean up and community meeting in an attempt to reclaim the gem that Iroquois Park once was from the dulled diamond in the rough it has become. I intended this to be a small gathering of a few people to toss around some ideas, make some commitments and ask Metro Parks and Louisville Metro Government to partner with us on areas that can't be managed by citizens (i.e. tree removal, rehabilitation, etc.) . It gained Power, and became much more. Several elected officials came. Representatives from Metro Parks and Olmstead Conservancy attended. I met with them beforehand to gain an insight I lacked previously. And so, on Sunday, about 30-35 people arrived, met in Jacobs Lodge and so began our conversation. There is a group that formed prior to this, but I got a negative feel, vibe, etc. so I opted to just do something small. Despite a few media inquiries, I chose not to comment and to request the process remain a citizen-driven one. The meeting went ok. There were no tables, chairs or seats, no running water or restroom facilities so it was uncomfortable at times but these are some of the very problems I wanted to address. And address them we began to.

And then we spent several hours collecting about six bags of trash from the North Lookout and surrounding trails. Young and old, male and female, gay and straight, all walks of life. That's the park I want to reclaim. Unfortunately, there are egos involved (including my own probably, I am human) and, as such, I had a nasty message waiting for me upon my return home. The line that got me the most was, "at this time, you are not the person I will follow." I'm ok with not being followed. What resonated with me was this line spoke volumes to this whole movement of restoring the park: I don't want to be followed, I don't want to be The Chosen One (hell, I didn't even know I was applying for the job. I probably would have showered had I known!), I am a citizen just like every single one of you reading this. You're all citizens. We're all in this together side by side. I want people to walk alongside WITH me, and me WITH them. That's why we're in this mess to begin with...somebody somewhere thought (dare I say thinks) that they know what's best for "The People" and, as such, asserts themselves as The Chosen One.

Honey, let me tell you that's not a Power I wish to have. And it isn't a Power that our "leaders" should wish to have either. If you choose to follow someone who wants the Power of being the chosen one, you may well have had the wool pulled over your eyes.

And so, while I ran three loops around Iroquois Park (as well as a couple miles leading up to and back home from)...this was a theme I tried to meditate on: The Power of love shall reign supreme over the love of Power. At least that's my 26.2 cents worth...but don't take it from me, have your own thoughts; it's a Powerful process.

Totally Zoned Out

During today's run, I'm honestly not sure where I went!

I mean, I started at Iroquois Park by the Amphitheater (Iroquois Amphitheater details), went left like I always do, got distracted by this lovely surprise, and then completely zoned out the rest of the run. It was neither an enjoyable nor unenjoyable run. Or at least, I don't think it was. This rarely happens to me during runs, but I just went somewhere else. I'm almost embarrassed to admit it as it makes me appear slightly flaky. I completely escaped my reality for 28 minutes and 48 seconds.

I just returned from vacation where I had a couple of awful runs. I ended my vacation working more than I should have, but that's how it works out sometimes. I ended my vacation drained rather than recharged. I guess The Universe gave me half hour to escape anyway. Odd. And I didn't fight it, I allowed it. I just followed the path. In the repetition, I suppose I slipped into an active/moving meditation. And through that, I was just guided by Spirit. I wasn't particularly looking forward to the run due to this ache, that pain, a little dehydration and some fatigue...but I let all of that leave my body and soul and just ran. My time of 28:48 is on the slow side, but not terribly so. I just followed.

I think I forget to do that and needed a reminder. My next three weeks are go, go, go. Maybe my next three weeks need to be follow, follow, follow. Yea, maybe that was the point of today's run. Or at least that's my twentysixpointtwo cents worth. . .

Here's the route and details: Running Meditation Today

Flatlined by Failure

Let me begin this blog by being brutally honest about my long "run" yesterday: I FAILED! And I failed miserably. As in, I was miserable before the run began, in the middle and long after I had finished it.

In today's society, we focus so much on "good job" "you're doing great" and a complete accentuation of the positive that we've frighteningly veered away from celebrating and acknowledging a failure along the way. While I agree we must focus on the positive...we must also focus on the reality and turn that into a positive for the next success.

even the view could not motivate me

I set out to run 12-15 miles. Last week, I ran a full 13.25 so this week should have been EASY up to about 12-13. I am currently in Florida on vacation at 15 feet above sea level and I never went more than 20 feet above sea level. This is NOT the case for the route I run back home where there is a several-hundred foot differential in start/mid/end elevation. But even before I went to bed, I knew it wasn't going to be a good run. When I woke up, I still felt it wasn't going to be a good run. And at mile 5ish when I took this picture it still wasn't a good run. During miles 10-12 when I played every mindgame in the proverbial runner's book...it STILL wasn't a good run. And finally, I gave up at mile 11.75. I failed. Miserable. Failure. Pained. Dehydrated. Sun kissed. Hobbled. Failed. That is the best way to describe my run.

But I still did it. And it is still going to be part of my success. I do not believe that success should be measured ONLY by the ultimate and final outcome...it should be measured by the beginning point, mid point(s), end point, and every point along the journey too. This was my route of failure, if you're inclined: http://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/113533751

O-M-G, I need a seat in my shower at home
for all my future failures!

Similarly, I believe that failure should not be a finite. And I think that's why we shy away from saying, "I failed." and we certainly don't want to hurt anyone's feelings by acknowledging, "you failed" but, my friends, who among us has not experienced a failure? Dare I say a catastrophic failure? You pick up and you move on. It isn't about the 1,000 failed attempts, it's about the one success, which, by the way, was strengthened by those failures along the way. So big flipping deal. You failed. Are you going to let it define and stop you? Or are you going to let it strengthen you and propel you forward?


I will admit, this thought did NOT come to me while feeling like an utter failure and a big sea cow clopping along at a 12 minute mile. It did strike me afterwards. So maybe I am doing little more than justifying a failed run, but eh...whatever...that's my twentysixpointtwo cents worth and I'm sticking to it!

perfect post failure reflection...

Giving Up to Receive

It's odd to train for a marathon. Your entire life changes. Your life slowly but surely begins to revolve around training. Running. Hydrating. Giving things up. First it's the candy. Then it's the extra dessert. Then it's the fast food. Then it's sleep. Then it's hanging out with non-running friends. Then it's sodas. Then it's alcohol. Then it's living in a painfree state. And the list goes on.

No! You can't have that! But you can have...

As of July 1 I have given up many of the above: fastfood (Dunkin Donuts excluded), candy, dessert every day (DunkDonuts excluded), sodas, alcohol. I will continue to give up things as the 120 days from now until the Marine Corps Marathon becomes my reality.

Although, am I really giving things up? Yes. The short answer is yes. Don't delude yourself. I'm giving a crapton of stuff up. And I want to be clear about that. HOWEVER. . . there is a flip side to this deprivation and it is in the receiving.

I am receiving a healthier way of living. Oh, how nice that sounds. Blahblahblah, sounds like Jillian, my former Spin Coach Liz or my former running buddy Trino when I say that. But it's true. I'm the oldest male in my family that's not on a plethora of health-related pills like high blood pressure, cholesterol, heart rate, gout meds, etc, etc, etc. I went to the doctor a couple months ago and she said my heart rate registered "abnormally low" on the EKG...because my heart is a well-tuned muscle that doesn't have to work as heard.

hmm, what am I gaining again? Right: My life!

When I am in training, yea, I give stuff up but what I gain in return is so much more. I gain the immeasurable benefits of spending hours a week in reflection and pushing my limits. I gain more water consumption (ick!) to stay hydrated. I get back in tune with listening to my body's aches, pains, needs and wants. I gain a healthier outlook on life, in particular my own. I always attract a few new running buddies along the way. I stretch out more. I gain another accomplishment that is dependent solely on my commitment to the end goal. The stuff I give up, truly, is just crap (literally and figuratively) weighing me down. What I gain allows me to move forward, nee, PROPEL MYSELF FORWARD in life so much easier, safer, healthier and possibly longer.


So Sunday, as I was contemplating why the heck I was training for my 3rd marathon, why am I giving so much up..i realized, it's so that I can gain so much more. Or at least that's my 26.2 cents worth.

A Brand New CAR!

Ever wonder why we get so excited when the game show host squeels, "A BRAND NEW CAR!" ? I mean, even if you're not the one getting the car, heck, you may not even be connected at ALL to the person that *may* win the BRAND NEW CAR <re-read that in a game show host voice please>, but we all like new things. Sometimes the shinier and sleeker it is the more we are delighted.

Today, I was so excited to get out and try my BRAND NEW SHOES. The temperature today is supposed to reach 104 or something ungodly like that. And, as luck would have it (or misfortune) my mom kept Gabby last night so I won't get her until around noon today. I set my alarm for 6:30, snoozed til just before 7:00 and stumbled out of bed, walked the dog (that counts as a warm up, right?) and was already sweating just from a half block walk. But, I had the allure of BRAND NEW SHOES to tempt me. And BRAND NEW SOCKS. I'm not sure which made me more giddy. Probably the socks, to be honest (they were also only $11.99 compared to...well, the shoes were more). So I laced up, drove to the park, set my mapmyrun, tuned the pandora station to Black Eyed Peas and dove right in to the waves of heat emanating from the pavement. My goal is 8:30-8:45 min/miles for a short 3.3 miles (one loop around Iroquois Park). I came in at 8:29 min/mile. 

BRAND NEW SHOES!

I was going up the incline by the golf course when it came to me. I was enjoying my BRAND NEW SHOES, however that's not what kept the pep in my step. Last night, I allowed myself my one dessert of the week, I chose a flourless, no sugar added chocolate torte. Yes, there's still oodles of butter in it BUT I'm beginning to make small cuts and sacrifices and changes. I'm incorporating them into my daily living. 

It hit me like a ton of hot, steamy bricks. I was running for A BRAND NEW ME! 

My life has sucked for 8 months and I've been caught up in a cycle of grief. I'm probably still in it, and that's ok...I'll work with what I've got. But I remember how vibrant life felt when I was in marathon condition. How my skin radiated with happiness and glowed with contentment. How every step I made was made with a sense of accomplishment. In that run, on that awful hill with sweat coming out of every pore in my body (some I didn't even know I had) I remembered that I'm not just running for A BRAND NEW ME, I am running for a BRAND NEW FUTURE. A clandestine future that I make myself, influenced by those around me (positive or negative) and so...yes, it was the shoes that got me out in the heat this morning, but it was the allure of a BRAND NEW ME that kept me going to beat my time goal. 

Don't fool yourselves, you need a motivator. You need intrinsic and extrensic motivators. It's up to you to find what they are. It's ok to admit that you need something outside of you to get yourself motivated to get up and move. Treat yourself to a massage when you reach a milestone (also one of my perks) a new pair of expensive wicking socks, a decadent meal with a delicious dessert (yea, I said it), whatever it is, find your motivator and follow the heck out of it. You'll be SO glad you did as you're enjoying your new running shorts. That's my next reward. Once I reach a long run of 15 miles, I get some new running shorts. Find your motivator and run like hell to get to it. 

Or at least that's my twentysixpointtwocents worth. 

Do Not Settle

So the Sermon this Sunday at church focused on one phrase: Don't settle.

I have set a goal of a sub-4:00:00 marathon on October 28th. I began to settle...maybe this wasn't going to be my year. So much has happened. My agency has grown exponentially. I have a massive garden. I got two chickens. Grief still strikes me at random, odd and unwelcome times. It's a really hot summer. I don't have time. I'm stressed. I gained too much (grief) wait. Blah, blah, fucking blah! The ultimate reality and truth is: I began to settle! What a hypocrite I had become! Here I tell my kids they can be whatever they want, achieve all they set out to, transcend whatever vicious cycles they're "trapped" in and I began to settle.

No ma'am! Not anymore. I mean, I was on the friggin cover of the LEO. These kids look to me for hope when they may not have any other source. They come to me broken, beaten, downtrodden and full of self-doubt. And here I was going to let a few little life-occurrences let me settle.

I. Think. Not.

And so, I set it out this Monday. My course. My plan. My vision. Wait, no...there's that damn ego getting in the way again. I set out to follow The plan. The course. The vision. I happen to be a mere pawn in it.

I will be honest, I am still struggling. I still eat desserts more than once a week. Though I've conquered the candy challenge! I still drink sodas. And I still eat Ding Dongs now and then randomly throughout the week. But it's ok. It doesn't matter where I am today, it only matters that I move forward. That I've not settled. That I don't take a look around and say, "well, hey...maybe I didn't do a 4:00:00 marathon, but at least I did something. I think I'll stop now." Instead, I need to remind myself, "well hey, I didn't do a 4:00:00 marathon this time. What do I need to do in order to improve next time."

My journey isn't over, regardless if I do a sub 4 or not. My journey is on-going. And today, I set out to run 5 miles. 7.4 miles later I realized I had seriously under-estimated my distance from the park. But I didn't stop. I didn't settle. I kept moving forward. And here I am, less than 30 minutes later feeling like I need to puke and poop at the same time. But I didn't settle. I'm already looking forward to when I add the top lookouts of the park (another 200 feet in elevation maybe? and another 3ish miles) to my 5 mile run that turned into 7.

Don't Settle. It's just not in the Plan. Or at least that's my 26.2 cents worth. . .

Dig Deep Buddy Boy, You Ain't Giving Up Now!

Christmas, not sure what year 2009?

As most of you may know, I'm training for my third marathon--the Marine Corps Marathon on October 28th. I've decided to train differently for this one in my third attempt at breaking a 4:00:00 marathon. I need to shave something like 16 or 17 minutes off my last one. So I'm increasing the distance of my short runs to double digits while simultaneously increasing the distance of my long runs by 10%ish each week.

Anyway, today I was not feeling like a run AT ALL. I could not sleep last night, today is the 7-month mark of my dad's death and I, frankly, have not reconciled it yet. But then the park where I run is also the last time I saw my dad alive. We both had/have scooters and that was a point of bonding for us. The last time, we took the scooters out on a Wednesday from his house, to the park, through the park up to each lookout. I got to hear stories of he and my mom dating (they've been together essentially forever), pranks they played, how the park has changed, etc. We almost didn't take this scooter ride because he was in pain. He was in chronic pain. And, at the last minute, he called and said, "let's go..." so we did. God I'm so glad we did. I tried to talk him out of it and I'm glad I was unsuccessful (I guess that's where I get some of my stubbornness from?). So then I thought, how appropriate that I get my lazy ass off the couch and go run. I decided I would run the same route that we drove, getting to each lookout point. I didn't stop though, I let the memories propel me.

Don't know how to rotate, sorry. LOL

Somewhere between miles 4 and 5, I was on empty. I was running on fumes. Every runner knows this. Nee, every person knows this. And facing me was yet another incline/hill/elevation. They are fucking relentless in Iroquois Park. And I LOVE it. But this time, I had nothing to give. And so I said to myself, "dig deep buddy boy, you ain't stoppin now!" And so I did. And then somewhere in the midst, I realized that only when we're really empty can we find out what we're really made of. If I keep doing what I've always done, facing no new fears or challenges then how do I know if I'm living MY BEST LIFE TO THE FULLEST!? And how do I know what I'm made of!?

family vacation, 2009

And so it went the next 2.5ish miles. I kept digging deeper and deeper. My goal was to maintain 9 minute miles for 8 miles. I didn't quite meet that goal. I beat it. I maintained 8:52 minute miles. I dug deep. I found some reserves. Wait, maybe that's why they call them reserves--you reserve them for when you really need it. Gosh, I hope I have some left for the MCM. :)

And so it is with life. When you believe you're empty, at your lowest point, no energy, no gusto, no desire tell yourself, "dig deep buddy boy, you ain't stoppin now!" and I bet you'll find a hidden reserve tank. At least I did, and at least that's my twenty two point six cents worth...

The View You Have to Work For

Years ago, I was listening to some random NPR program. This was in the days when I didn't have a tv, but had Satellite Radio (in my defense, my ex paid for the subscription. And subsequently paid for a full year after we broke up too ha). Anyway...there was a program on indigenous ways of healing and medicine. As in those that are not chemically manufactured in a lab with high paid chemists in lab coats and goggles. Not that I'm against that in entirety (I reference this in a previous post, I won't belabor it here). Anyway, there was a healer from Appalachia being interviewed and he said something along the lines (I'm generously paraphrasing) that God put all the good healing herbs and roots far into the forest. The kind you had to work for to heal major ailments. i.e. peppermint, which cures a common upset tummy or bad breath, can be easily found everywhere. It takes a true healer and someone following Spirit to wade deep into the forest to find the herbs to heal the difficult and more serious ailments. And so the patient of the healer enjoyed the work of the healer.

view of beautiful valley, wanted you to experience as I did. 

So it is with running. I love running Iroquois Park (a common theme, no?). There is a route that takes you up. And keeps taking you up.  Nearly 2 miles of non-stop up. And when you've made it, you've truly made it. The view is GORGEOUS! This is the view you have to work for. Yea, yea you could get there by car. But I suspect the view is neither as awesome nor rewarding.

Click here to view the route and elevation


I ran the double loop a few days ago. Around the bottom, up to the middle-top, then I decided to take the plunge and keep going up. And up. And up. And up. And BAM! The view you have to work for. But by the time I got there, the last thing I wanted to see was a large vista that indicated the distance I had left to run in order to get to my car. Half way around the top loop, at the second look out, I thought, "stop. Enjoy the view. You've worked for it."

And so my invitation to you is this: When you reach the "summit" of any challenging task stop and enjoy the view. Afterall, this is the view YOU worked for. Give yourself permission to enjoy it. Otherwise, you might as well just (metaphorically speaking) stay on a treadmill. Or at least that's my twenty six point two cents worth.

So Simple; So Profound

I'm gonna give you today's theme without even having to work for it: HAVE FUN! 

BAM! 

WHOOP THERE IT IS! 

Cyndi Lauper, who is the the Grand Marshal for the Kentucky Derby Pegasus Parade tomorrow (in which my ducklings and I will be walking!) had it half right. She sang her heart out that, "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun." Why does fun have to be relegated to girls? I want to have fun too! And I bet you do too if you think about it. 

Yes, running is great for heart-health, gives you uber sexy legs and ass (am I the only one who admires my own legs after a nice long run while in the shower? Please tell me I'm not), helps lower stress/tension, etc. But it's also fun. If it isn't maybe you should look into a new past time. That doesn't mean that it's going to be fun all the time. Seriously, miles 17-22 could hardly be described as fun. But you can make it *more* fun! 

Trino & I Laughing.
First Half Marathon, circa 2007 

Trino and I used to laugh so hard during races that we would get stitches in our sides. That's not fun, but it sure did create some memories. Whenever we'd see a camera we would do face-checks--ugly faces were never permitted even at mile 24. While running along BOYshore, anytime a car would honk we would wave, thank them and wax on about how awesome our asses must be that a car several blocks away could notice (we ignored the fact that they were honking at other cars, red lights, children, etc.) You see, we made it fun. Wait, that sounds odd...to have to make something fun sounds like work. Well, that is one way to look at it I s'pose. Another way to look at it is this: the work is still going to be present. The pain of running is still going to be present. The hours spent pounding the pavement are still going to be present. Why not find ways to make it fun. Try to outrun the chipmunk in the park, decode the clouds above (only for short periods, please watch where you're running), try to catch up to the next faster runner. Have fun with it. 

Running in honor of a friends child.
Decked out in Purple--head to toe! 

That's all. So simple, yet so profound. Have fun with it, y'all! 

Or at least that's my own 26 point 2 cents worth anyway...

Marathon: My Marijuana

So yesterday was the 20th of April, also known as 4/20 aka 420 and "let's all get high" to stoners day--a holiday for them of sorts. One in which I neither partake NOR do I endorse. I do not endorse substance use/abuse of any kind in any way, shape or form. Well, caffeine as the exception. I go so far that I don't even take advil, ibuproferin (I can't even spell it!), aspirin, etc. I think we should learn to listen to our bodies and respond to its needs accordingly and naturally. (I should also say that I DO advocate medical interventions when necessary as the last resort. They can work, and must be used with caution, in my twentysixpoint two cents worth.).

Anyway, I was having coffee this morning with a longtime friend (E) and her partner (K). All three of us have a more intimate relationship with alcoholism and/or substance abuse than we might otherwise prefer. E was saying that she feels so much more balanced now that she's doing some running, she said "now if I mix in yoga..." at which point I chimed in, "it'd be like being high on marijuana all the time, but substance free!"

You see, for me, running IS my drug. When I don't do it for any period of time exceeding 3-4 days, I feel out of sorts. My legs cramp, they become fidgety, my brain is foggy, I have pent up energy and I struggle to make sense of the world around me. I've never partaken in marijuana or any other illicit/illegal substance (save for the occasional alcoholic beverage at 19 and 20) so I really have nothing to compare it to, but I imagine that's what it is like.

After I run, I feel more balanced, calmer, sedate, ready to tackle the world. My world makes more sense to me. Marathon training is my marijuana. It's also my therapy. What better therapist can there be than a pair of shoes, running shorts and God's great Universe?

For those of you who may be struggling with something...maybe a relationship isn't going right, maybe you have an addiction to drugs, alcohol, food, etc, perhaps there's a struggle at the workplace. Might I suggest lacing up and pounding it out on the pavement? You don't need to toke up, shoot up, stir up or any other up-just lace up your shoes and hit the road Jack or Jill. God will find you, and so will your answers. Or at least that's my 26point2centsworth anyway. . .

Put in the work; Release it to the Universe

Today, I'm going to hit you over the head with the metaphor of the day: If you don't put in the work, you're not going to yield the results you want.

This is sort of the metaphor I live by. I've always heard it growing up. I've always KNOWN it. But I didn't LIVE it until my first marathon some five years ago. Gosh, I really do believe that The Marathon is The Ultimate life-metaphor. Read on ...

Yesterday (and arguably today, but it's still early) I did not want to get my run in. I am behind on three of my contracts. Have a grant to update. Volunteers to coordinate for a 1,200 wall rehab inside the Youth Center, yada yada yada. But my goal is to complete this Marine Corps Marathon in under 4:00:00. That's a lofty goal for me given my first was well over 4 (though my last was just barely) and I recalled that to run fast, one must train fast. Hell, one must simply TRAIN to just finish! And so, despite the chaos of the day, I forced myself to do a brisk four-mile run on the treadmill at the Y. I did my first quasi fartlek run (Click Here for Fartlek Run Info) which generally kills me.


My mantra of the run was, "to finish fast, you must train fast, to finish fast you must train fast." and really, all that's saying is to FINISH you must TRAIN. That's how one should live life. If you do the right training in the right way at the right time, you're going to finish in the right way. Put in the work, and release it to the Universe.

It's as simple as that. Put in the work, and release it to the Universe. Now, it's time for me to grab another cup of coffee, finish this grant and drag myself out to Iroquois Park for another brisk run. Today, I'm putting in the right work at the right time for the right finish. Are you?

Raccoon. Mud. Jiggly Man Boobs. Phlegm. Compression Shorts.

Bright red shorts. Trees fallen. Random orange cones and water tables. 

No music. Brisk morning. Vomit. Few people. 

Pollen. Gorgeous sky. Blinding sun. 

These are a few of the things that I encountered on my run this morning. I may have already blogged about the point of today's, forgive me if I have but it comes to me often. 

I only do a marathon about once every two years (this will be my third in 5 years' time). I've discovered it takes about a full year-18 months to forget the intense pain, incredible sacrifices, total commitment and unfathomable insanity to complete a full marathon. I mean, you can't safely just wake up and say, "today, I'm running a marathon!" though i know of people who have. I train for at least 3-6 months. Each month brings a different level of discipline. Currently, I am just building my base-mileage up. In May, I cut out candy. In June, I increase mileage and salads. Etc. 

What I've also learned is the sense of satisfaction, glory, accomplishment, pride, et. al. of EACH Marathon persists far beyond the memory of any such sacrifices or pain. Yes, the stories of the sacrifice/pain are forever woven into dinner-party conversation (I remember that time when ___________________) but really, that is part of the pride and accomplishment.

To me, this is a clear correlation and metaphor for life. When you're in the thick of it (and I'm just now getting in the thick of THIS marathon with today's run at 10 miles) it is easy to focus on the pain (I'm sitting 14 hours later with my legs propped, raw toes, a tender nipple, tight calves and an inexplicable pain in my right pinky toe area), but I know if I want that sense of accomplishment, the pride, the cheering, the glory I must endure through the pain, prep and sacrifice. 

This blog is messy. My mind is messy. My running today was messy, actually. So I guess in the grand scheme, this blog is right up there with today's long run: pointless, messy, never-ending and boring. Oh well, that's my 26point2centsworth for ya! 

Street Team!

My first marathon training went something like this: read EVERYTHING on running, run a lot, eat right, talk non stop about running, drink water, etc, etc. I read an article somewhere that said to put your name on your shirt so people could cheer for you. So, I went and bought iron on lettering. On the front I placed, "Donald JR" on it. On the back was "Marathon Virgin" My thinking was people would yell my name wildly as I approached them and people would send well wishes as they inevitably passed me up! 

VICTORY! 

It worked! 

People chided me that Donald SR had already passed me. They yelled Donald, Junior, JR. The enthusiastically clasped my shoulder at times when I was doubled over in pain and defeat as they glided past me. Yes, I had a street team of about 10 strategically placed, but for those 26.2 miles and 4+ hours my street team swelled to THOUSANDS! It was AWESOME seeing the first school group in the home stretch. We were on Bayshore (remember we call it BOYshore), the wind was slicing across the Bay, only 4 miles separated me from being a marathon virgin and a marathoner. Along the side, I saw a group of about 30 kids with those thunder sticks, cow bells, pom poms, etc. CHEERING FOR ME! These people didn't even know me, yet they came out on a Saturday morning to cheer me on to success. O-M-Goodness!

A lesson I have held with me since: people really do want me to succeed. Even people I don't know. If I put myself in the right environment, people WANT me to succeed. I said on a first (and subsequently only) date once that I thought it was impossible for me not to succeed at whatever I tried. I still do. Back on that January morning some five years ago on Bayshore Blvd , somewhere between mile 22 and 24 I realized that I, a youth worker and educator had received one of the most important lessons of my life, and it was from the very students I was charged with educating. It is a simple lesson and it is this: surround yourself with your own street team, look around, all these people want YOU to succeed. They're there to give you high 5's, cheer you on, provide a dollop of vaseline when needed, a smile when not. They are there to carry me when I cannot carry myself. They are there to ensure I succeed. How powerful. 

Am I Too Strideful?

And so the build up has begun. 

Iroquois Park, Spring 2012
(taken BEFORE storm, no debris)

Today's run: 6.7 miles. 56 minutes. Rain. Leaves. Debris. Thoughts. Jumbled. Slight pain. Moderate discomfort. Complete euphoria at mile 5 (finally!). Yes, the build up has begun! 

Two themes emerged today (well three really, my dad died five months ago today, so that has been a theme for the day, not relegated to my running) and they are about the debris in the road and the sense of accomplishment that lies in the completion of a marathon versus the pain. 

So I'll focus on the debris in the road, that's what kept coming back to me. 

Louisville, KY, experienced some heavy and sudden storms last night. I do all my training runs in Iroquois Park-Louisville's most beautiful and underrated park (Click here for Louisville's BEST park!). Not only did I grow up running through this park, it has largely remained unkempt. Or at least not overly manicured. You truly can feel completely removed from the city, and yet experience some of the best VIEWS of the city (future blog: The View You Have to Work For). As this is an old park, after any significant storm there may be anything from simply leaves to a large tree obstructing the path. Of course, on any given day there could also be deer, chipmunks, groundhogs/beavers/honeybadgers/clearlyihavenoidea and lots of things in bloom alongside random little streams. Did I mention this is my favorite place in Louisville? I feel the presence of God every time I'm on a run here. 

Downtown Louisville from Iroquois Park, 2011 (day before my dad died)

I was nearing the summit of an elevation today on my first loop (the park has a 3.3 mile loop at the bottom, I repeat it as many times as needed to get my miles ticked off). As if I needed any added challenge I came across a veritable minefield of debris. With oncoming traffic, I was left with little choice to but to slog through. So slog I did. Dodging this pile of leaves, that clod of mud. This twig and that limb. I got bent out of shape because I had to change my stride. CHANGE MY STRIDE I SAID! Every runner who runs with any regularity and distance gets into a stride. It doesn't change. I can tell you my per minute miles based on my stride. When Trino and I were running buddies, we could tell if the other was having a bad day based on their stride. Did I mention I HAD TO CHANGE MY STRIDE in order to avoid the debris in the road. Clearly, I was left unsettled. 

And then I thought. 

Some of the friends I hand with at Iroquois Park

How often do we get stuck in a stride. Nee, a rut? We go about life with the same speed as the day before. And the day before. And the day before. And then debris gets in the way and messes it all up! I suppose I did have some choices when I was reaching that summit today. I could have stopped and waited for the cars to move out of the way,  I could have trailblazed and went on through, I could have kept going and HOPED the cars would have stopped. But I didn't, I chose to change my stride. My feet struck the pavement in a different rhythm, I nearly stumbled, I felt out of sorts. Literally, I felt out of sorts for at least 12 paces until I regained my stride. 

And then I thought, am I so strideful that I forget to change and experience a new (and possibly better) stride? Literally or metaphorically, the question's relevance is the same. 

Just Another Minute. . .

Today's running theme was simple: Just another minute. How many times have we told ourselves that? Usually it is in an attempt to procrastinate something. For me, it is is most often repeated before getting out of bed. Again and again and again. When I was in kindergarten, my grandma would wake me up in time for school. I would thrust my hand up and out of the blankets (particularly on cold mornings!) with my fingers spread far apart and say, "Just five more minutes, Grandma, just five more minutes." I often persuaded her, though I bet she woke me up five minutes before I needed to be up in anticipation.

Today, I used that same power of persuasion to keep me going. I needed to get four miles in today to achieve my goal of 20 for the week. It is daunting to believe that I'm struggling to get 20 in a week's time when come October 28, I will complete 26.2 miles in less than four hours. ACK, can't think about that right now! I digress...so I needed to get four miles in AND I need to work on my speed. To race fast you gotta train fast. SO I set a goal of under 40 minutes (which is NOT the pace I'll need in order to achieve my sub-4:00:00 marathon!). I remembered in my first marathon I would count from 60 to zero at times, thinking it's just another minute. Surely to God I can run for another minute. And then I would repeat that until I saw the mile marker, then the water stop, then the orange slice people, then the cracker people, then the water stop...you get the picture. I persuaded myself one minute at a time. In that moment, the only thing important to me was that next minute. I can do ANYTHING, endure ALL things for only one minute. One sixty-second period and then it's done! And so, every minute, I adjusted the speed. From 6 (10 minute miles) up to 8.5 (7 minute miles) one minute at a time, I would increase by .5, and then I'd persuade myself I can do ANYTHING for one minute. Once I reached the next mile, I started over again knowing I had already proven I could do it once, so I clearly could do it again. Then again. Then again.

And so I did.

Four miles and under 34 minutes later, I had convinced myself I could do it. I'll be danged if I did do it! We often start our Mondays wishing for Fridays and begin our Sundays sorry that the next is a Monday. I feel sorry for people who live for 2 days out of 7. Why not live for the next minute. Yes, there are moments that may be horrid throughout the week, but what if we live fully in that next minute. And then the next. And then the next. What would happen? I wonder what would happen if we disconnect sometimes and be fully present with those in our presence.

So today, after 34 minutes, that's what I was thinking. When life happens, and it will, I will remind myself it's only 60 seconds. Surely to God I can get through sixty seconds of anything!

I don't know if I believe that I have anything worth saying, really. Then again, most blogs I've read also have little to say, but are generous in taking up lots of space to say it in.

My friend, and first (and subsequently only) running buddy Trino and I used to have all these epiphanies while running. Sometimes we had delusions, hallucinations, thoughts on solving global and dating dilemmas. We joked that one day we would put out a book. We came up with chapters like, "Is It Ok To Spit?" "It's Darkest Before the Don" "10 Miles, 2 hills and One Poop Later..." etc. Sometimes these titles were meaningful. At times their sole meaning was to serve as a distraction from the intense pain, dehydration, exhaustion and insanity we were experiencing. You'll see.

It should also be understood running has become a spiritual and sacred journey for me. While ticking off the miles, running off the pounds, sweating out the stress I somehow found myself along the way. I'm hesitant to share my journey for fear I may taint this sacredity (is that a word?). My life has been truly blessed and I've very little to complain about. When I get stressed, my two go-to solutions include anything natural water (ocean, beach, river, spring, creek, etc.) and running. It takes me about 30 minutes to tune the outside world, well, out. And the inside world...uhm...in?

In this blog, I hope to share with you my thoughts and observations of the world as they occur (or have occurred) to me while on a run. It may not be world-moving or shattering. In fact, I believe that there is nothing unique about my perspective, but many have asked me to share them, note them, write them down. So for you, here I go. This is an experiment and I may discontinue if I feel it crosses a line. Again, this journey is my Spiritual Journey. For now, I'm pleased and hesitant to share it with you, letting you into the deepest recesses of my being. I hope you'll appreciate where we may travel together. I don't ask that you agree with me, I don't even ask anything really. So...later today or tomorrow, I would like to begin at the ending and work my way simultaneously forwards and backwards from there. Will you join me?