Here we are. Two weeks away from the craziest thing I've ever done. Sober. I could not be here without thanking some awesome musicians. Running without music is nearly impossible for me. Today I am going to take some time to give credit to those artists who have basically pushed me to run harder, faster, farther, without even knowing it. Jay-Z, you are an amazing man whose quotes such as "Can I get a f*%$ you" as well as the entire first verse of "Big Pimpin" have helped me become who I am today. And to your lovely lady Beyonce, who reminds me daily that her "body's too bootylicious," girl you have inspired me to embrace being a big bootied woman.
There is Ludacris (they don't love me for who I am but who I'm destined to be), the ever popular Beastie Boys (well, I think I'm losing my mind this time, this time I'm losing my mind), and a crowd favorite Motley Crue (when we started this band, all we needed, needed was a laugh, years go by I'd say we've kicked some ass). I also want to give an honorary mention to Simple Plan, Poison, The Black Eyed Peas, and Good Charlotte.
Every so often I hear a song that really blows my mind. We all have those songs that make us stop for a moment and remember exactly what was going on in our lives when we heard that song. I have strong attachments to "Linger" by the Cranberries, "Lola" by The Kinks, and "The Sign" by Ace of Base. But none of them measure up to the song that has changed my training for this half marathon. Only this one song has pushed me from a quarter marathoner to a half marathoner.
When your name is Flo Rida, you best be putting up hot lyrics. And Flo Rida really out did his own greatness when he wrote the song "Club Can't Handle Me." With lyrics like, "Still feeling myself I'm like out of control, can't stop now more shots let's go", Flo Rida calls out to us moms in our 30's, reminding us of our glory days. Who can't think back to a college frat party when he shouts "Putch'yo hands up"? And when Flo (I think I can call him that) gets real with the line "Bring ya body here let me switch up your atmosphere", it just about melts my heart.
So when I'm out running and this song hits the top of the playlist, I completely forget what I'm doing and just zone out, which is exactly the point of the song:
You know I know how
To make 'em stop and stare as I zone out
The club can't even handle me right now
Watchin you watchin me I go all out
The club can't even handle me right now.
It reminds me of a time when I may have had just one (or seven) too many plastic cups of Busch Light and I found myself on the dance floor. (Yes, mom, I did this kind of stuff. Maybe you shouldn't be reading this.) It's at those moments where you really think you are amazing, unstoppable, even gorgeous. You think everyone is watching you and they think you are the best dancer even though they might actually be making fun of you. Come on, you know this has happened to you. But then, holy crap, suddenly you are a working 35 year old mom, and it becomes an amazing, unstoppable, gorgeous moment when you realize you are actually going to finish a half marathon!!
So Flo, thank you for this song. I think it was destined to be released the summer I was training for this half marathon. I think you secretly wrote it for 35 year old working moms who thought the club really could handle them at this point. I think you deserve to be told, in the immortal words of Vince Neil, I'd say you're still kickin ass!!!!
Two weeks and counting people, time to get crazy!!
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Real Great Women
Today was the Fox Cities Marathon. I love this event because I usually know a few of the athletes and I love the course and finish area. Since I work in the Fox Valley, I almost feel a bit of home field advantage. This year, I participated in the Marathon Relay, running a 5 mile leg of the full marathon with some co-workers as team members. It was really fun. I found myself smiling and actually enjoying it, running even a bit faster than usual since I was accountable to the team.
As most of you know, I also won a special honor at the race. With an excerpt from the May 22 post from this blog, I was given the honor of being a "Great Woman of the Race," complete with a special pink shirt. (How I love gear.) There were 19 more of these women out there somewhere but I only saw two of them and was proud to be part of this special group. But the truth is, there are some really great women out there who aren't wearing pink shirts to display their greatness. They go about business quietly making an impact in their own special ways. I'll tell you about a couple of them. You might know them, and if you do, consider yourself very lucky.
There is a young woman who grew up in Ripon, not giving herself much credit. She didn't need to be a stand out athlete or valedictorian. In fact, I don't think she cared much for school or activities related to the place. But she always worked really hard, even if she had to go home stinking of french fries. She never seemed to be super confident but at some point, decided to take a giant leap on her own and moved across the country. She quietly finished college and a master's degree and has been teaching in a neighborhood where breakfast may be more important than learning to read and where showing a 6 year old some real love could be the most meaningful lesson. Now, she's expecting a child of her own and I don't know who will be blessed more, my sister or her baby.
Another similar but yet completely different story is about a woman who could put herself through graduate school while working full time and having two kids in grade school. She's smarter than most women I know but never acts like she is better than anyone else. In my eyes, she can almost do no wrong. She exudes confidence in a humble way, and has been super successful without taking anything for granted. You see where I'm going with this. She's a special combination of sophistication and simplicity. If you've ever met my mom, you know exactly what I am talking about.
So I'm still sitting here in my pink shirt, just a little lazy this afternoon, and I realize that there are great women all around me. I'm only "great" because I've been surrounded by greatness. And that greatness extends so much further. From my friends, to my co-workers, to the girl at the coffee shop who makes the best mochas. There are the women who are making a go with small business ventures, raising their kids (and sometimes their husbands), going back to school, fundraising for charities, and running corporations. Every single one of us has something great inside and the more we share with each other, the more great we all become.
The weeks are flying by and soon I will be taking off to Portland for the 1/2 marathon. I'll be joined by a few of the great women in my life. We'll keep you up to date as the weekend passes by. It's sure to be memorable. Special acknowlegement today to my sister in law, who completed a half marathon after five months of devoted training and about 60 pounds of weight loss and one of my running inspirations, Dianna, who finished her first full marathon. These women are at the top of that list of greatness today.
Now get out there and share your greatness with the women in your life!
As most of you know, I also won a special honor at the race. With an excerpt from the May 22 post from this blog, I was given the honor of being a "Great Woman of the Race," complete with a special pink shirt. (How I love gear.) There were 19 more of these women out there somewhere but I only saw two of them and was proud to be part of this special group. But the truth is, there are some really great women out there who aren't wearing pink shirts to display their greatness. They go about business quietly making an impact in their own special ways. I'll tell you about a couple of them. You might know them, and if you do, consider yourself very lucky.
There is a young woman who grew up in Ripon, not giving herself much credit. She didn't need to be a stand out athlete or valedictorian. In fact, I don't think she cared much for school or activities related to the place. But she always worked really hard, even if she had to go home stinking of french fries. She never seemed to be super confident but at some point, decided to take a giant leap on her own and moved across the country. She quietly finished college and a master's degree and has been teaching in a neighborhood where breakfast may be more important than learning to read and where showing a 6 year old some real love could be the most meaningful lesson. Now, she's expecting a child of her own and I don't know who will be blessed more, my sister or her baby.
Another similar but yet completely different story is about a woman who could put herself through graduate school while working full time and having two kids in grade school. She's smarter than most women I know but never acts like she is better than anyone else. In my eyes, she can almost do no wrong. She exudes confidence in a humble way, and has been super successful without taking anything for granted. You see where I'm going with this. She's a special combination of sophistication and simplicity. If you've ever met my mom, you know exactly what I am talking about.
So I'm still sitting here in my pink shirt, just a little lazy this afternoon, and I realize that there are great women all around me. I'm only "great" because I've been surrounded by greatness. And that greatness extends so much further. From my friends, to my co-workers, to the girl at the coffee shop who makes the best mochas. There are the women who are making a go with small business ventures, raising their kids (and sometimes their husbands), going back to school, fundraising for charities, and running corporations. Every single one of us has something great inside and the more we share with each other, the more great we all become.
The weeks are flying by and soon I will be taking off to Portland for the 1/2 marathon. I'll be joined by a few of the great women in my life. We'll keep you up to date as the weekend passes by. It's sure to be memorable. Special acknowlegement today to my sister in law, who completed a half marathon after five months of devoted training and about 60 pounds of weight loss and one of my running inspirations, Dianna, who finished her first full marathon. These women are at the top of that list of greatness today.
Now get out there and share your greatness with the women in your life!
Saturday, September 11, 2010
The Fuel Needed for True Confidence
Well, a couple of months ago, I wasn't sure about all of this. I've never referred to myself as a runner. I've always told people I was a beginner, learning to run. When you go to races, no matter the distance, there is such a wide range of people and ability levels. The front of the pack contains the stick thin crazy people. The people who were truly born to run, who appear to require little effort, the people we know we cannot catch. In the back, there is usually a group of walkers. These guys are not there to set any records. They are there for the experience, the cause, or because they are getting started. I sometimes envy this group because they don't appear to be putting a lot of pressure on themselves. They look like they are actually having fun, like they are not in pain.
Since I decided to learn to run, I have fallen in the middle. Even the middle has a wide variety of ability levels. I've considered myself a beginner, sometimes an advanced beginner, afraid to move ahead in the middle pack, not sure I could fit into this group. I get a lot of thigh chafing when I wear the short running shorts. I haven't run a sub 30 minute 5K. There are plenty of days when I feel like I've never run before and I struggle to finish the first mile. I've been looking for some evidence, some proof that I can call myself a runner. I think it happened today.
I went to the running store, where I still feel completely out of place, like the employees must be laughing when I leave. (That woman runs! HA HA!!) I went there to purchase a fuel belt. This is the funniest piece of running gear. It is a belt with mini water bottles attached so you don't have to carry water. I decided that since I was shooting for a nine mile run, I should have one of these. I didn't really want one, afraid that it would feel heavy, look ridiculous, and just basically irritate me. I actually considered driving my route and hiding bottles of water along the way in the brush along the sides of the road. Something told me that this plan may actually be more ridiculous than the belt. So I left the running store with a fuel belt, a stick of body glide (hey, maybe I can try the short shorts and not have chafing with this stuff!), and the impression that the guy wasn't laughing at me when I left.
The goal for today, with four mini bottles filled with G2 strapped to my waist, was nine miles. Nine is a scary number when you are just a beginner. What am I saying? FIVE is a scary number! But nine seems like a big deal. A crazy big deal. It's so close to ten. It's so far to run. Could I really do it??? Hell yes, I'm wearing a fuel belt, aren't I? A person who chooses to run 9 miles should finally be able to call herself a runner, especially if she is going to traipse around in this silly contraption.
For the first time ever, I found the first 5 miles to be totally bearable. I had no desire to quit. I kept a mantra in my head "nine is fine", and repeated it endlessly. The next couple were tough but I was entertaining myself by laughing each time I passed a place where I had planned to hide a water bottle in the absence of my fancy belt. The belt was great, by the way. At the start of mile 7, I was running through Arcade Acres, my childhood neighborhood. Umm. . . here's where it starts getting fun. I was crying because I never ran this road as a kid. I biked it, walked it, skipped it, played tennis on it but I never ran on it. I was listening to the song "The Club Can't Handle Me" and really felt like NO ONE could handle me right now.
I planned my last mile on the Northwest Trail because I have been enjoying it lately. One mile to go! But damn it. I am wearing a fuel belt, aren't I? I am a RUNNER today, aren't I? If I stopped at the ninth mile, I would still have a mile to walk home. What crazy runner with a fuel belt would actually do that? A woman with a fuel belt runs that tenth mile. And she did. Probably the best part was when I ran up behind a man on the trail and he said, "Oh, you scared me." My response? "I'm on mile ten, I can't stop now. I've never done this before." Because he cared? Not sure, but I'm pretty sure he saw my fuel belt. (How could he miss it?)
So, yeah, I'm bragging. I ran ten miles today. I'm doing a half marathon. I wear a fuel belt. This is the day. I am a runner. No non-runner could accomplish this. I'm walking into that running store with my head held high. I may have actually impressed my hard to impress husband. I've finally impressed myself. I AM a runner.
Did I mention the fuel belt?
Since I decided to learn to run, I have fallen in the middle. Even the middle has a wide variety of ability levels. I've considered myself a beginner, sometimes an advanced beginner, afraid to move ahead in the middle pack, not sure I could fit into this group. I get a lot of thigh chafing when I wear the short running shorts. I haven't run a sub 30 minute 5K. There are plenty of days when I feel like I've never run before and I struggle to finish the first mile. I've been looking for some evidence, some proof that I can call myself a runner. I think it happened today.
I went to the running store, where I still feel completely out of place, like the employees must be laughing when I leave. (That woman runs! HA HA!!) I went there to purchase a fuel belt. This is the funniest piece of running gear. It is a belt with mini water bottles attached so you don't have to carry water. I decided that since I was shooting for a nine mile run, I should have one of these. I didn't really want one, afraid that it would feel heavy, look ridiculous, and just basically irritate me. I actually considered driving my route and hiding bottles of water along the way in the brush along the sides of the road. Something told me that this plan may actually be more ridiculous than the belt. So I left the running store with a fuel belt, a stick of body glide (hey, maybe I can try the short shorts and not have chafing with this stuff!), and the impression that the guy wasn't laughing at me when I left.
The goal for today, with four mini bottles filled with G2 strapped to my waist, was nine miles. Nine is a scary number when you are just a beginner. What am I saying? FIVE is a scary number! But nine seems like a big deal. A crazy big deal. It's so close to ten. It's so far to run. Could I really do it??? Hell yes, I'm wearing a fuel belt, aren't I? A person who chooses to run 9 miles should finally be able to call herself a runner, especially if she is going to traipse around in this silly contraption.
For the first time ever, I found the first 5 miles to be totally bearable. I had no desire to quit. I kept a mantra in my head "nine is fine", and repeated it endlessly. The next couple were tough but I was entertaining myself by laughing each time I passed a place where I had planned to hide a water bottle in the absence of my fancy belt. The belt was great, by the way. At the start of mile 7, I was running through Arcade Acres, my childhood neighborhood. Umm. . . here's where it starts getting fun. I was crying because I never ran this road as a kid. I biked it, walked it, skipped it, played tennis on it but I never ran on it. I was listening to the song "The Club Can't Handle Me" and really felt like NO ONE could handle me right now.
I planned my last mile on the Northwest Trail because I have been enjoying it lately. One mile to go! But damn it. I am wearing a fuel belt, aren't I? I am a RUNNER today, aren't I? If I stopped at the ninth mile, I would still have a mile to walk home. What crazy runner with a fuel belt would actually do that? A woman with a fuel belt runs that tenth mile. And she did. Probably the best part was when I ran up behind a man on the trail and he said, "Oh, you scared me." My response? "I'm on mile ten, I can't stop now. I've never done this before." Because he cared? Not sure, but I'm pretty sure he saw my fuel belt. (How could he miss it?)
So, yeah, I'm bragging. I ran ten miles today. I'm doing a half marathon. I wear a fuel belt. This is the day. I am a runner. No non-runner could accomplish this. I'm walking into that running store with my head held high. I may have actually impressed my hard to impress husband. I've finally impressed myself. I AM a runner.
Did I mention the fuel belt?
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Grab a Lab
Have your workouts suffered lately? Are you bored with the usual routes and music? Need a little pick me up? I have the answer for you: GRAB A LAB!!
I hate wind. So much. It is my absolute number one enemy when it comes to working out. Have you tried riding your bike or running in the wind? It is torture for me. My eyes water so bad that I look like I just finished watching the movie Beaches. I feel like I can't move or that I am actually running backwards at times. When I left work tonight, the wind was gusting at a nice steady 25-30mph. I was planning to run 5 miles but I couldn't bear the thought of it. But I knew I had to do something so I decided to go for a long walk instead, although I was dreading that too. Until I got the idea that I needed to change things up a bit. I grabbed a lab!
If you don't have a dog, you may not get anything I am about to say. I have three dogs. One happens to be a chocolate lab. He is a really good dog. Of course we've had our moments. He has eaten pairs of Doc Martens, whole packages of brats, trash, and other really disgusting items. He's also puked all of these things up which has been a real pleasure. He has soiled our carpets and run away multiple times. He got so sick that we had to max our home equity loan to save him. Certain people, who shall remain nameless, would not have tolerated this behavior or expense (you know who you are).
But if you have a dog, especially a lab, you know exactly why we tolerate this buffet of trash and subsequent vomit. You, too, would sacrifice your first born in order to save your lab's life. Ok, maybe not, but you would take out a second mortgage. And here's why. A lab is NEVER sad, depressed, or upset in any way. A lab is everything most humans aren't; loyal, friendly, happy, joyful, hopeful. A lab will also do anything to ensure his owner's happiness. This includes running in the wind.
So on this evening of gusting winds, I leashed up Blue and hit the trail. Blue does not do well with the leash. He will nearly strangle himself without seeming to understand that he could actually breathe if he just laid off a little bit. On the trail, I take him off the leash and that's where the fun begins. This dog literally had a smile on his face the entire time. He splashed in the stream, sniffed everything, ate grass (and who knows what else), and chased rabbits. I was worried he wouldn't make it the full 6 miles since he is getting old. HA!! What a joke, labs don't tire on a trail. He has no idea how old he is, he only knows that he is having the time of his life.
When we hit the last mile, it was pouring rain and the wind persisted, but it didn't bother me a bit. When you frolic with a lab, you completely forget about your surroundings and you are able to enjoy that moment almost as much as him. If you don't have a lab in your life, I suggest you get to know one. I swear you will hurt less, love more, and learn to enjoy even the worst days in life. He even helped me enjoy the hated wind. Too bad I can't take him to Portland with me!
I hate wind. So much. It is my absolute number one enemy when it comes to working out. Have you tried riding your bike or running in the wind? It is torture for me. My eyes water so bad that I look like I just finished watching the movie Beaches. I feel like I can't move or that I am actually running backwards at times. When I left work tonight, the wind was gusting at a nice steady 25-30mph. I was planning to run 5 miles but I couldn't bear the thought of it. But I knew I had to do something so I decided to go for a long walk instead, although I was dreading that too. Until I got the idea that I needed to change things up a bit. I grabbed a lab!
If you don't have a dog, you may not get anything I am about to say. I have three dogs. One happens to be a chocolate lab. He is a really good dog. Of course we've had our moments. He has eaten pairs of Doc Martens, whole packages of brats, trash, and other really disgusting items. He's also puked all of these things up which has been a real pleasure. He has soiled our carpets and run away multiple times. He got so sick that we had to max our home equity loan to save him. Certain people, who shall remain nameless, would not have tolerated this behavior or expense (you know who you are).
But if you have a dog, especially a lab, you know exactly why we tolerate this buffet of trash and subsequent vomit. You, too, would sacrifice your first born in order to save your lab's life. Ok, maybe not, but you would take out a second mortgage. And here's why. A lab is NEVER sad, depressed, or upset in any way. A lab is everything most humans aren't; loyal, friendly, happy, joyful, hopeful. A lab will also do anything to ensure his owner's happiness. This includes running in the wind.
So on this evening of gusting winds, I leashed up Blue and hit the trail. Blue does not do well with the leash. He will nearly strangle himself without seeming to understand that he could actually breathe if he just laid off a little bit. On the trail, I take him off the leash and that's where the fun begins. This dog literally had a smile on his face the entire time. He splashed in the stream, sniffed everything, ate grass (and who knows what else), and chased rabbits. I was worried he wouldn't make it the full 6 miles since he is getting old. HA!! What a joke, labs don't tire on a trail. He has no idea how old he is, he only knows that he is having the time of his life.
When we hit the last mile, it was pouring rain and the wind persisted, but it didn't bother me a bit. When you frolic with a lab, you completely forget about your surroundings and you are able to enjoy that moment almost as much as him. If you don't have a lab in your life, I suggest you get to know one. I swear you will hurt less, love more, and learn to enjoy even the worst days in life. He even helped me enjoy the hated wind. Too bad I can't take him to Portland with me!
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Will the Real Brooke Please Stand Up?
Yes, I know the title line is outdated. I couldn't help myself. It is so very appropriate to what is going on with me right now. I ran seven miles tonight. I cannot believe it myself. There was a very brief walk up a very steep but short hill that I refuse to count because of the difficulty level of the hill. When I was done, I decided that after this half marathon, I am never running again. Sorry, but I mean it. I have greatly appreciated all of your support, emails, and facebook posts. I am so happy that I have even inspired a few of you. I hate to disappoint, but I am done, retired after October 11. And here's why: I have lost my identity.
I have no idea who I am anymore. I cannot even see much of my former self when I look in the mirror. I do not recognize this woman in gym clothes. I do not understand the fixation with whole grains or the passion for arch support. You guys know me, most of you know me pretty well. I like hair stuff, and high heels; laying in lawn chairs and watching America's Next Top Model. This woman who I see in the mirror has a permanent sweaty ponytail and walks around in New Balance running shoes. My best lounge chair is full of spider webs and garage dust and I can't even tell you who was in the running to be the next Cover Girl.
Brats have been a fabulous summer treat. My actual self loves them. Tonight, this strange woman in my house had a turkey brat on a whole grain bun with chopped tomatoes and onions on top. To my horror, it wasn't even soaked in beer. And it was good. My father might disown me.
I hate this woman. She doesn't shop at the Gap or eat turtle sundaes. She wakes up early on Saturdays to run or go to yoga class. I don't do those things!! I love turtle sundaes and the more sleep the better. Who cares about doing the crow pose for more than 30 seconds???? Apparently she does. I did beat the crap out of her on Sunday night when I stayed out at a bar until it actually closed. The last time that happened I woke up in a frat house and had to walk home with no shoes. THIS woman would never let that happen.
Although I hate her, I also fear her. I hate to admit it but she is kind of cool. She's the one who talked me into buying a kayak, which I love. She got me to go on some marathon bike rides. She doesn't care if I look disgustingly sweaty or if I'm the only one crazy enough to get up at 5 AM on Thanksgiving morning to run a 5K. She is a lot more confident than me and willing to take risks that I never would have taken before.
OK, maybe I'll keep her around. But I'm NOT running :)
I have no idea who I am anymore. I cannot even see much of my former self when I look in the mirror. I do not recognize this woman in gym clothes. I do not understand the fixation with whole grains or the passion for arch support. You guys know me, most of you know me pretty well. I like hair stuff, and high heels; laying in lawn chairs and watching America's Next Top Model. This woman who I see in the mirror has a permanent sweaty ponytail and walks around in New Balance running shoes. My best lounge chair is full of spider webs and garage dust and I can't even tell you who was in the running to be the next Cover Girl.
Brats have been a fabulous summer treat. My actual self loves them. Tonight, this strange woman in my house had a turkey brat on a whole grain bun with chopped tomatoes and onions on top. To my horror, it wasn't even soaked in beer. And it was good. My father might disown me.
I hate this woman. She doesn't shop at the Gap or eat turtle sundaes. She wakes up early on Saturdays to run or go to yoga class. I don't do those things!! I love turtle sundaes and the more sleep the better. Who cares about doing the crow pose for more than 30 seconds???? Apparently she does. I did beat the crap out of her on Sunday night when I stayed out at a bar until it actually closed. The last time that happened I woke up in a frat house and had to walk home with no shoes. THIS woman would never let that happen.
Although I hate her, I also fear her. I hate to admit it but she is kind of cool. She's the one who talked me into buying a kayak, which I love. She got me to go on some marathon bike rides. She doesn't care if I look disgustingly sweaty or if I'm the only one crazy enough to get up at 5 AM on Thanksgiving morning to run a 5K. She is a lot more confident than me and willing to take risks that I never would have taken before.
OK, maybe I'll keep her around. But I'm NOT running :)
Sunday, August 15, 2010
An Inspiring Morning
Let me begin this by admitting that, yes, much of today's post has been inspired by the fact that I started reading Eat, Pray, Love this weekend. I know it's cliche and that half the women in America are probably saying this but I sure can relate to the beginning of this woman's story.
This morning, we took our daily walk to the gas station for Gatorade (purple) among other necessities. As usual, we passed the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship. Our son, Sam, comments "we don't go to church." He's right, we don't. And just like in the book, the reasons for that don't really pertain to this blog. So I'm thinking about this as I'm running and the truth is, in my mind, we go to church every day. Just like the author, I don't really think about God as a single specific entity. I don't even really have a name for her or him or it or that or whatever this God thing is. She worded this so eloquently in the book. I don't dare to even try to accomplish capturing this thought the way that she did with words. If you haven't read the book, you should.
This gets to be a pretty philisophical run for me as I start to think about all the things that this thing called God can be part of. My church is right here, the route that I am running. I don't need the building or the ladies group or the collection plate. I've got the sun, which to me holds so much power and energy that it could be this thing called God all by itself. I've got freedom to choose which direction to go and the choices are endless. I'm seeing this God all around me, in the cool breeze, the Mill Pond, the seventy year old man running on the track. There is such a great selection of cheese at the grocery store. Certainly God must have had a hand in that!
My tendency to be a pessimist creeps in. There is so much negativity in the world, on the news, sometimes even in my own house. Ok, a lot of times in my own house. If this God is so special, why is he/she/it allowing this to happen to me, to us? How am I supposed to believe in any of this nonsense? I'm still not sure that I do.
But here is what I do believe. Life can be really hard. So hard that you want it to just stop. Like when you go on vacation to Florida and your husband calls to tell you that he just quit his job. Like when you go to the Health Risk Assessment at work at they tell you that your body fat is at 30%. Like that point at mile 3 when you could turn and just go home. But if you do that, if you just stop and head home, you will never know what you missed on miles 4, 5, and 6. Maybe there were some kids running a FREE lemonade stand or maybe you missed a Basset Hound laying out in the sun. Or maybe you missed your opportunity for your longest and most accomplished run yet! (Is this the start of a self help book? I have no idea where this is coming from right now.)
Something or someone must intervene at that 3 mile mark. Some force, some push is coming from someWHERE that makes you choose to turn away from home and see what else you can find. If this is called God, then AMEN. I didn't need an old stone building to get there. I just needed to take some time to find it.
This morning, we took our daily walk to the gas station for Gatorade (purple) among other necessities. As usual, we passed the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship. Our son, Sam, comments "we don't go to church." He's right, we don't. And just like in the book, the reasons for that don't really pertain to this blog. So I'm thinking about this as I'm running and the truth is, in my mind, we go to church every day. Just like the author, I don't really think about God as a single specific entity. I don't even really have a name for her or him or it or that or whatever this God thing is. She worded this so eloquently in the book. I don't dare to even try to accomplish capturing this thought the way that she did with words. If you haven't read the book, you should.
This gets to be a pretty philisophical run for me as I start to think about all the things that this thing called God can be part of. My church is right here, the route that I am running. I don't need the building or the ladies group or the collection plate. I've got the sun, which to me holds so much power and energy that it could be this thing called God all by itself. I've got freedom to choose which direction to go and the choices are endless. I'm seeing this God all around me, in the cool breeze, the Mill Pond, the seventy year old man running on the track. There is such a great selection of cheese at the grocery store. Certainly God must have had a hand in that!
My tendency to be a pessimist creeps in. There is so much negativity in the world, on the news, sometimes even in my own house. Ok, a lot of times in my own house. If this God is so special, why is he/she/it allowing this to happen to me, to us? How am I supposed to believe in any of this nonsense? I'm still not sure that I do.
But here is what I do believe. Life can be really hard. So hard that you want it to just stop. Like when you go on vacation to Florida and your husband calls to tell you that he just quit his job. Like when you go to the Health Risk Assessment at work at they tell you that your body fat is at 30%. Like that point at mile 3 when you could turn and just go home. But if you do that, if you just stop and head home, you will never know what you missed on miles 4, 5, and 6. Maybe there were some kids running a FREE lemonade stand or maybe you missed a Basset Hound laying out in the sun. Or maybe you missed your opportunity for your longest and most accomplished run yet! (Is this the start of a self help book? I have no idea where this is coming from right now.)
Something or someone must intervene at that 3 mile mark. Some force, some push is coming from someWHERE that makes you choose to turn away from home and see what else you can find. If this is called God, then AMEN. I didn't need an old stone building to get there. I just needed to take some time to find it.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Let's Get Real Here.
Ok, time to get down to the nitty gritty. There are 8 weeks left before Becki and I travel to Portland to participate in a half marathon with Erin. The training had a major set back in March and I never really bounced back. I am doing much better now than I have all summer, which is good news. But it's all seeming a bit funny to me as I sit here writing this tonight.
Allow me to describe a training "run" for you. I sit down at mapmyrun.com, one of my new favorite tools for training. I plot a route with the total mileage that I am trying to accomplish for that day. (I'm up to 6 by the way.) Then I gear up and set out. Of course now you are all thinking, wow, that's great. No, it's not. I wish you could see me laugh right now.
I start real serious. A good pace, steady breathing, nothing hurts. This is good. Soon, my legs feel tired. I'm just getting into it. A mile must have passed by now. I press the button on my ipod that tells me how far I've gone, 0.21 miles. Great, Karen, thanks for the update. How could that be? OK, so I'm not pressing that button again for a while. I think that thing is broken.
I purposely plan my route near parks that have bathrooms and bubblers, or water fountains if you require that terminology. The need for the bathroom is obvious to those of you who have birthed children. Running is right up there with jumping, sneezing, laughing, squatting down. One false move and you better hope that you are sweating enough to cover up your accident. So, I can stop at the park, use the bathroom and get a drink. I have gotten into the habit of sticking my head in the stream of water after I get my drink. I can only imagine what passers by think but I have really stopped worrying what passers by think at this point anyway.
Another trick. I purposely plan my route so that people will see me. By people, I mean people who cannot see me walking. I MUST be running when these people are near. When I suspect I may run into one of these people, I pick up the pace. They have no idea how much they are influencing my running. You may be one of these people without even knowing! No one but me knows who these people are. They have been chosen for very inappropriate, superficial reasons that only I can know without thoroughly embarrassing myself. I also run on really busy streets so that these people might see me running just as they are out innocently going about their own business.
But on the side streets of Ripon is where my secrets lurk. That's where I'm taking a brief walking break. Sure, my walk is on pace with some joggers, but to me, this is cheating. I'm not really running. I fear one of those people popping out of the bushes and yelling "HA! You aren't a runner. I knew it!!". I try to only walk on uphills so that if I'm caught, I have an excuse. I always smile to myself when I see one of these people off the beaten path and I am running hard. Trust me, it has happened. And it is oh, so satisfying.
As I approach the end of the route, I really try to push myself. I'm quite sure I appear half dead. If I at all become aware of my appearance, I realize that I am hunched over as if attempting to hurl myself forward. My eyes are squinted, mouth is grimacing. And now, it does look like I never found that bathroom and the weak muscles of motherhood just let loose. But the truth is, this is exactly how I want to look if I've been spotted by one of my secret motivators. It screams, "LOOK HOW HARD I'VE WORKED!!" It is SO satisfying to walk in the door as the sweat pours down. I think my family is more proud of me the worse I look.
Of course this is all in my head. I don't terribly care what my secret people think of me. Ok, I do a little or none of this would work. What matters is that this little game is just one more thing to make me work, to keep going, and to push just a little harder. And it's fun. Now, do you see why I sit here and laugh at myself?
Allow me to describe a training "run" for you. I sit down at mapmyrun.com, one of my new favorite tools for training. I plot a route with the total mileage that I am trying to accomplish for that day. (I'm up to 6 by the way.) Then I gear up and set out. Of course now you are all thinking, wow, that's great. No, it's not. I wish you could see me laugh right now.
I start real serious. A good pace, steady breathing, nothing hurts. This is good. Soon, my legs feel tired. I'm just getting into it. A mile must have passed by now. I press the button on my ipod that tells me how far I've gone, 0.21 miles. Great, Karen, thanks for the update. How could that be? OK, so I'm not pressing that button again for a while. I think that thing is broken.
I purposely plan my route near parks that have bathrooms and bubblers, or water fountains if you require that terminology. The need for the bathroom is obvious to those of you who have birthed children. Running is right up there with jumping, sneezing, laughing, squatting down. One false move and you better hope that you are sweating enough to cover up your accident. So, I can stop at the park, use the bathroom and get a drink. I have gotten into the habit of sticking my head in the stream of water after I get my drink. I can only imagine what passers by think but I have really stopped worrying what passers by think at this point anyway.
Another trick. I purposely plan my route so that people will see me. By people, I mean people who cannot see me walking. I MUST be running when these people are near. When I suspect I may run into one of these people, I pick up the pace. They have no idea how much they are influencing my running. You may be one of these people without even knowing! No one but me knows who these people are. They have been chosen for very inappropriate, superficial reasons that only I can know without thoroughly embarrassing myself. I also run on really busy streets so that these people might see me running just as they are out innocently going about their own business.
But on the side streets of Ripon is where my secrets lurk. That's where I'm taking a brief walking break. Sure, my walk is on pace with some joggers, but to me, this is cheating. I'm not really running. I fear one of those people popping out of the bushes and yelling "HA! You aren't a runner. I knew it!!". I try to only walk on uphills so that if I'm caught, I have an excuse. I always smile to myself when I see one of these people off the beaten path and I am running hard. Trust me, it has happened. And it is oh, so satisfying.
As I approach the end of the route, I really try to push myself. I'm quite sure I appear half dead. If I at all become aware of my appearance, I realize that I am hunched over as if attempting to hurl myself forward. My eyes are squinted, mouth is grimacing. And now, it does look like I never found that bathroom and the weak muscles of motherhood just let loose. But the truth is, this is exactly how I want to look if I've been spotted by one of my secret motivators. It screams, "LOOK HOW HARD I'VE WORKED!!" It is SO satisfying to walk in the door as the sweat pours down. I think my family is more proud of me the worse I look.
Of course this is all in my head. I don't terribly care what my secret people think of me. Ok, I do a little or none of this would work. What matters is that this little game is just one more thing to make me work, to keep going, and to push just a little harder. And it's fun. Now, do you see why I sit here and laugh at myself?
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