A Pebble in my Shoe

Years ago, I was running some race, a quarter marathon I believe, and this was my experience:

Miles 4-6 were downhill physically and so I thought, "this is gonna be an EASY finish." Then I got a pebble in my shoe. At first, it was REALLY annoying and bordered painful. I almost stopped to get it out, risking a personal record finish time. Then it kind of slipped away and became less annoying, but still very much present. As I often do while running, I began to reflect on how this run may be a metaphor for some aspect(s) of my life; I pondered...what are the pebbles of my life?

For the next two miles, as I begrudged this pebble, I reflected on its meaning in my life, on a grander scale. And today, I invite you to spend some time thinking:

What are the pebbles in your life? Are they nagging, gnawing, making your life unpleasant? Are they less pleasant at certain times than others, but still very much present? Do you want to get rid of them entirely? Adjust so they’re less annoying? How do you accomplish this? Or do you want to just run through life with them and persist despite?

What lessons could the pebbles bring to your life?

I Feel Defeated

I am turning 40 in a few months. I am ok with turning 40 and think of it as just another year. Some call it a milestone year, but I don't get it.

Or at least, I didn't get it until I went to the doctor this week.

I began going to the doctor on a regular basis six years ago when I became a foster dad. Part of the process for certification in Kentucky is an annual physical. I mean, I guess it's a good idea to get a baseline of all your numbers and stuff anyway. And those numbers have been relatively steady except for two things: my weight and my blood pressure. Life has been stressful lately and I have an unhealthy relationship with food--in that I tend to eat my emotions, caving in to late night sweets and even chips.

But for the last few years my doctor (Dr. Julie Ellis, one of Louisville's top docs, LOVE HER!) has been monitoring my blood pressure closely. I have never smoked and I gave up alcohol about six years ago. So she suggested I reduce the salt and increase the physical activity. I eliminated salt almost entirely from my cooking, and the physical activity comes and goes. None-the-less, each year my blood pressure steadily increased. She says it's mostly genetics catching up with me with some lifestyle choices thrown in to exacerbate it. I can't change my genetics, but I can change my choices.

Can I be honest here? I feel defeated. Entirely defeated. I am in the healthcare profession. I espouse being healthy in mind, body and soul. My private practice is called Infinite Balance Massage (I made that a clickable link, shameless plug). I run 2-3 times a week and hike 1x a week. Each activity is 2-5 miles. WTF BODY!? Why are you doing this to me!? Maybe 40 is more than just another year. Maybe it's the year my body decides to revolt and implode. I want to change the lifespan and quality of life statistics for men in my family. But my body seems to have missed that memo. At times, I feel paralyzed to do anything. Anything except eat more snack cakes, that is.

I am trying to believe it when I say I'm not going to let this defeat me; I am going to reclaim my life and body. But I don't believe it, yet. I have never considered myself a negative person, but this really has me down. I have a plan in my head, but execution of said plan...well...I don't know, I feel paralyzed. I guess I'll just do what I can do, where I am, when I can and see where the (low sodium, baked) chips fall. I will attempt to celebrate small steps forward while not getting stuck on the small steps backwards. I know I can conquer this challenge, I just don't know if I will. I'm not looking for pep talks or my cheer squad, I'm just being honest.

So here we go, maybe I'll document some of my journey here for accountability. Maybe someone else needs to read it. Maybe I just need to vent it. I don't know, but here it is. I'd like to end this missive with a celebration: I made a small step forward. My yard is a disaster zone (so much of my life seems to be actually). So I decided to reclaim a little of it. There is a section of my yard screaming for some landscaping. So I bought five bags of mulch and some flowering plants on clearance. My son and I spent about an hour weeding (i.e. we used the weed eater to cut the grass to the dirt), plucking small trees, laying landscape fabric, planting five flowering plants (four of which will come back) and spreading mulch. I chose to do only one little section between two trees. It is closest to the area of my yard I call my lanai (for the record, I don't have a lanai) so that when I sit out back, I can see progress. It looks nice and I feel I accomplished something which will bring me some peace and tranquility. I guess that's part of what I can control about my life choices in regards to my blood pressure. Yes. that's it. I will get through this (and one day I'll believe that) because I am owning the 30% that isn't genetics. Today, I am proud that I did something yesterday to that end.

40. In 5 months I'll be 40. Many men don't make it out of 50 in my family and many of those who do do not have the quality of life I desire and deserve. But me? I plan to be different. And that started with planting some flowers.

that is technically my neighbors property and her fence.
The fence has effectively made that my property now.
For three years it has been overgrown. 

But this year, I am reclaiming it.
I am excited to see how these plants grow and flower.
And possibly extending this process through the entire row. 

I. Can't. Do. This. As I do.

As my regular readers know, I've recently become a doting dad. I am so proud of my kiddoe and the progress he has made over the last nearly 3 months. There have been some uphill battles, yet there have been many more triumphs to be celebrated! ...increased desire to read (I believe reading is essential to so many things in life), better reading comprehension, nearly perfect scores on vocabulary assessments/tests for four weeks solid, more confidence in both math & science, social skills allowing him to make new friends, integration into a brand new family, decreased cussing and....and...and the list goes on.

There are days, however, that I end the night totally exhausted and think, "I can't do this." One such night I was depleted, I was in tears, my body ached to the same level of my heart. I think what we parents of children in the foster care system fail to share with each other are the hopeless moments. The moments where we wonder if love will overcome. Will 1, 5, 10, 15 years of neglect, abuse, abandonment, etc. be undone and redone in a healthier way? Maybe I'm just alone in this feeling at times? Yes, there are REALLY awesome moments to celebrate, there are equally difficult moments where doubt DOES begin to creep in. I believe in sharing this moments of despair, perhaps someone else can say, "OH MY GOD, I feel the same way too and you got through it? Maybe I can too! Maybe I'm NOT a bad parent because I feel this way..." Again, maybe I am alone in this feeling because I don't hear others talking about it.

But there is hope.

And I was reminded of this hope when I felt hopeless and like a miserable (MISERABLE I SAID) failure at mile 20 of my first marathon. I began to believe that I could not do it. I distinctly remember making the fatal flaw of stopping to pee, my legs froze in those few brief seconds it took to eliminate whatever drips of hydration I may have been holding on to. Then they began to shake and twitch, which sent this message to my brain that I couldn't do it, despite the months of training, reading and preparation. I remember seeing my friend Yadira during this period of doubt, and the doubts were quieted for a brief moment. Brief. Somewhere around mile 22 I caught back up to my running buddy, Trino, and began to verbalize that I couldn't do it. He kept saying, "but you are, look at you, you just took another step." "But I can't, Trino, I can't." "But you are, Donald, you are." and so this banter went back and forth until mile 25 (somewhere there was a cheer squad including a clown, signs and lots of crazy antics from my friends) when I saw the finish line sign. But doubt crept in. I thought they were tricking us and we had to double back through the neighborhood first. But with Trino alongside me, giving me encouragement truly at every step, I did cross that finish line. And what a glorious fucking finish it was! I remember going to the soda fountain and getting a coke. I skipped diet for that day. There was a big thing of rice and beans from the Colombia restaurant. I was enamored with my new, shiny mylar blanket. My boyfriend at the time even made it back in time to see me cross and help hold my wobbling body. On that day, I thought I crossed the finish line because my leg and body muscles were strong enough to transport me 26.2 miles in 4+ hours. Now I realize that's just my ego talking.

I didn't finish because I was personally strong enough; I finished because I had a support team to lift me up and propel me along the path when I was NOT strong enough. And I can do this too, not because I am strong enough but because those around me won't let me fail--THEY are strong enough to carry me when I am weak.

So yes, on this day when I am behind on reports, filing my taxes, dealing with tummy issues in the home, a yard that needs to be cut, a court date for expired tags I TOTALLY forgot about and a bank account that I refuse to look at..my brain might be telling me I can't, my mouth might be saying I can't, but damn it my--and your--actions are proving that we can.

Yes, Love is enough. Hope is enough. And there ya have it, a month on hiatus but my 26.2 exhausted cents worth anyway...

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!

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...

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. 

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. . .

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! 

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!