Relating, Ragnar, and Humble Pie

"Always remember that you are absolutely unique. 

Just like everyone else." -Margaret Mead

As a freshman in high school, I desperately wanted to be on the cross-country team. I told my dad, who seemed excited and encouraged me to go for it. When I got to practice, however, I was too shy to run! Recently homeschooled, and with a bad haircut, I just knew those tan, toned girls, with impossibly long legs, and even longer hair, would eat me for breakfast. And so I became... the worst.cheerleader.EVER. But, that's another blog. Scratch that. I'M NEVER WRITING THAT BLOG! ;)

Fast forward a little over a decade to me being in PT school. I finally found a way to run, I think my hair's a little better, and I've worked hard to remove all trace of homeschool, but it's still tempting to feel intimidated. In fact, if I let my mind wander into the land of "If only," I can get myself into a pretty good funk. Although recently, a weekend of running in the mountains, and something a fellow student shared really resonated with me, reminding me that  a) I'm not alone in my occasional feelings of inadequacy and b) We need other people to walk this road with us.

Thanks, Clif Bar for sponsoring the event.

Going into the weekend, I had planned to spend some time with friends who were running the Colorado Ragnar Relay Series, but I wasn't sure what to expect, for a couple of reasons. First, most of the team were members of a Crossfit gym, and while I think highly of their ability, I didn't know how that would translate into running. Second, the total distance covered is an impressive 196 miles, from Breckenridge to Aspen, but with a team of twelve, some of the legs are less than three miles. I wondered, was this event really about running? Well, on the flip side of the weekend, having experienced all that the race encompasses, I can emphatically say, No. The Ragnar Relay is not about running. It's about so much more, and I am genuinely a better person because I've experienced it.

Sneaking in a Sunday run
in Glenwood Springs!

 In spite of my skeptical outlook, my attitude alteration began before I even left Denver. It started with a class discussion, which segmented into us talking about our different backgrounds. As one girl shared that having spent a large portion of her childhood overseas, she struggled to feel at home in both America and Europe, I empathized with her longing to identify with others. Thinking about how lost I would feel without my running friends, I made a mental note about the importance of community, and left class excited for the next day's events! 

Though subconscious, listening to my fellow students set the stage for all I was about to observe at Ragnar. It started with breakfast. Because I was in class when the race started early Friday morning, I met up with half of the team about 7-ish Saturday morning. These guys were tired! They'd all been running for at least a portion of the night, snagging little to no sleep, either in the van, on designated gym mats at the local community center, or in sleeping bags on public lawns. (Given the potential for automatic sprinkler activity, the lawns are sleep at your own risk!) Exhaustion aside, I could tell this team, some strangers, and some friends, had already formed an incredible bond. Over pancakes, they excitedly shared stories and inside jokes, passing the butter and pouring coffee for each other. Their eyes showed a hint of optimism and elation, as they mentally and physically prepped for the remaining miles. Words of encouragement flowed freely throughout the meal, and then the runners hopped back in the van en route to the next checkpoint. 

Photo Credit: Sara S.

Arriving at our checkpoint, I wandered around, taking pictures and chatting it up with participants. It was fun to see the iconic white vans decked out with all kinds of witty phrases and silly pictures. Also, I loved seeing that all the teams displayed an outlook similar to mine. In all shapes and sizes, ages and genders, traveling from all over the nation, and representing dozens of occupational and athletic backgrounds, the Ragnar runners seemed to understand that they were there to contribute to something bigger than themselves. In the words of my favorite chemistry professor, "The excitement was palpable!" 

As I wandered, I decided I was really impressed with the organization of this event! Sure, there will always be a few logistical mishaps (the finisher badges didn't quite make it in time, so some participants will receive their medals in the mail), but overall, coordinating the pick up and drop off of thousands of runners (each team had detailed maps), making sure that each station had adequate parking for the team vans and spectator vehicles (I was driving along in my personal car, and NEVER had trouble finding additional spots for parking), arranging restrooms (with tp and hand sanitizer! Fancy!), aid stations, volunteers, first aid responders, food and clothing sponsors, etc. I have so much admiration for the race directors! 

Photo Credit: Pope

Photo Credit: Pope

 The last leg of the relay finally came sometime later in the afternoon on Saturday. It was one of the longer stretches, so the team found a spot on the side of a hill near the finish, and watched for their runner. I joined in the cheering for all the weary folks headed in to the finish, but we saved the loudest shouts for our own, and while he ascended the hill, two of the team ran down to pace him up. As the three passed, the other nine joined, their tempo increasing as they ran. With no member left behind, the whole group crossed the finish line. As a spectator, it was one of the coolest things I've seen in a long time, and I was so proud of all of my friends, both new and old.

Photo Credit: Dan C.

I guess if you have been running long enough, you might complain about the commercialism of the event. Trust me. I get it. I, too, got a little big for my britches, and had a poor outlook going into this weekend. I love small community events, running unorganized miles in the wilderness, and pooping in the woods, just as much as the next girl! ;) But the thing is, I have the capacity to do those things on my own, so I'm not going to preach to the choir, complaining about big names and big money taking over the sport. Ragnar rocked my world because I saw humans helping humans acknowledge their inadequacies, pushing past personal fears, limitations, loneliness, doubts, and physical plateaus. It's about a team of people accomplishing something unattainable on their own.  

Hats off to you, Ragnar Relay finishers. I hope you never stop running.

"...the first mile, the last mile, and every mile in between teaches us something about our teammates, our humanity and ourselves." 

-Ragnar Relay Website

Running is My Beige Space

I once read the blog of an accomplished interior designer who stressed the importance of neutral spaces for creative minds. Her observation held that inspiration is most easily sparked in the absence of stimulation, maintaining the belief that artists continually entertain new ideas, but seek a quiet medium for the best idea to flourish. Huh? In my mind, the creative would best appreciate vibrant spaces. However, after thinking about my own life, as a writer, runner, and graduate student, I’m inclined to agree with her!

For example, I sometimes feel overwhelmed by technology. In theory, the advancement of personal computers combined with the power of social media creates abundant resource for creative inspiration and success. Unfortunately, while I appreciate the effortless availability of information, I'm susceptible to “media bloat,” characterized by anxiety, irritability, and headaches. Ha! This is especially true as I explore the realm of blogging (Twitter and Instagram and Pinterest! Oh my!) and physical therapy. Regis requires DPT students to use tablets and smart phones. It’s fantastic, promoting best practice for both students and clinicians, although, it adds yet another dimension to my educational vertigo. :-/

So, what do we do? How do we maintain creativity and calm in the age of high-speed, information overload? Well, in the sage words of Stan Lee, Uncle Ben or FDR (who really knows who said that, right?), “with great power comes great responsibility.” Queue thoughts about running. Although I can’t permanently go offline, I do find moderation in running. Running is my beige space. It’s my calming detox, where I can filter and focus my thoughts. If I need to make a decision, I run; if I need to remember why I am doing what I am doing, I run; if I need to feel confident, I run; and it just keeps getting better. In fact, my writing stems from my running. I like writing about running because most of my thoughts grow while out on the road or trail. Hmm, what does calm look like for you? Care to share your secrets?

P.S. If you haven’t noticed, I decided to get with the program and use hyperlinks! Feel free to browse previous posts and see what I’ve done! ;)

I'm An Athlete

I read the news… on Facebook. Now, wait! If you’re different, don’t judge! It’s an easy way to spice up your newsfeed and read articles catered to your interests! ;) For example, thanks to Facebook, I was recently able to read something on The Atlantic’s page, referencing a previously published New York Times’ piece. There wasn’t anything too spectacular about the article, but it did get me thinking. 


I’m a mom. AND I’m driven. For years I thought the two were incompatible, so I wrestled with each parcel of my being, often feeling deflated and guilty. I still have moments of sensitivity, but I’m so much stronger today than I used to be (Did you hear I’m in grad school for the career of my dreams?!), and running is a huge part of that (Find out how my journey started).

Summer Fun!

I forgot my hood!

My newest babies!

Becoming a runner put me back in touch with an identity I mistakenly thought that motherhood had replaced. As a recreational runner, I am reacquainted with my athletic side, my social side, my playful side, my assertive side, my curious side, and on the list goes. I’m so thankful and proud to have rediscovered this portion of myself because it means I can share it with others--especially my kids. I can’t express how happy it makes me when I see them cheering for me from the sidelines. Or how incredibly good it feels when my kids ask, “Mommy, did you climb that mountain (pointing to Pikes Peak)?” “Well, yes, baby. Yes, I did.”

Of course, as a mom and graduate student, my running "career" looks a little different. I am still trying to figure out what balance looks like for me, and it's an evolving process. You know what, though? Ask any athlete, recreational or professional, and he or she will tell you that the phenomenon I'm describing is the express purpose of athleticism. To be an athlete means to work toward becoming your own best. That is why it doesn't matter if you're running a four minute mile or a fourteen minute mile. It’s about facing and challenging your own limits, not someone else’s limits.

If I can close with a little vulnerability, I’d just like to say that it hurts when people wrongly assume that ambitious women are the demise of families, and the effect on society is equally devastating. We need talented women in every facet of the workforce.  Gender differences aside, maintaining close relationships while doing anything else takes hard, hard work—just like most things of value take work. But if we’re all striving away at our individual hopes and dreams, or maybe we’re just trying to survive, where do we find the energy to tear each other down?

“Be kind; everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.” –Unknown source   

Content

Humility doesn’t mean being down on yourself. It means knowing who you are, and accepting it. –Jed Brewer

At the Labor Day marathon, I got my rear-end handed to me, finishing in five hours and thirty-six minutes. The crazy thing is, as I stumbled deliriously across that line, I felt more accomplished than I ever have. In fact, it’s been close to two weeks, and I still can’t stop smiling while thinking, “I ran two marathons this year!”

I’ll admit that I was expecting to do just a little bit better (I ran the first half in 2:15!), but is it even possible to express the fact that I’m genuinely okay with my finish? Maybe that’s why I’ve waited so long to write this up. How can I articulate what happened that day? Oh, sure. I could write about the weather or what I ate. I could say how I should have done this, or should have done that, but I don’t want to write those things! I just want to say, I showed up, I did it, and I had a BLAST.

It turns out that besides being quite painful (I wouldn’t recommend it!), a little five-hour jaunt can be good for your perspective. Let me explain. It was right around this time, when I was looking at my watch and wishing I could give up, that an older lady jogged past. As she went, she cheerfully remarked, “Look at us! Even with all of our troubles, we’re still out here, enjoying this beautiful day!” She was right, and I sincerely felt more grateful for my health. Next, an eighty-year-old man smoked me to the finish line. As hilarious as it is, I was pretty awestruck. You see, as he flew past me, I read his shirt: “50 States Marathon Club.” Below the caption, someone had written in sharpie, “x2.” No way! Now, there’s a guy that runs because he loves it. I bet he doesn’t even HAVE a Facebook, Twitter account, or blog, and yet there he is—running in his eighties. Ah, I just love it. And, I love running. I forgot about that for a while because I was so focused on running longer, faster, blah, blah, blah.

Expectations are good, and it’s fun to challenge yourself and meet goals, but maybe you don’t always have to have a goal to feel accomplished. Maybe, you can feel good because you’re doing something you love? Or because you’re healthy enough to do something you love? Maybe, you can feel good about yourself because you know who you are: where you’ve been, where you are now, and what you’d like to try next!

I do have some ideas about what I’d like to try next, but I’m also ready to take some time off. I’ll probably continue to run when I feel like it, but I’m going to do my best to not sign up for any races until I’m feeling rested. The closure I feel now that I’ve finished the ADT is nice, and I don’t want to spoil it! Thankfully, I’m blessed to live in Colorado, and our state’s fall and winter seasons offer any number of adventures to enjoy without running. Until next time, I hope you find a way to enjoy something that you love! Take care, my friends.

There is no respect for others without humility in one's self. 

–Henri Frederic Amiel 

Hardcore Chicken

Labor Day, 2012

The ADT marathon is only two weekends away, and I’m getting butterflies just thinking about it! EEEK! In all honesty, I should start by saying that I did not follow my marvelous plan—at all. Although, I can also honestly say that I tried! I was feeling so low after Colfax, I thought the perfect salve would be a rigid training plan. Unfortunately, as a new marathon runner, I really don’t think I allowed myself the time I needed to recover. You know how the story ends. I didn’t listen to my body, I overtrained, and I derailed my own progress.

Feeling lower than ever sometime in July, I began to seriously question whether or not I had any business trying to run two marathons in a year. It’s been such a mental battle. I still love running, but I have truly developed some type of emotional block. I’m not sure where it stems from, but I don’t like it. It’s just not “me.” (Will a real sports psychologist please stand up?) Anyway, before I delve too deeply into the feel-good, I have to tell you that I’ll be darned if this gets the best of me. Interpretation? I am just crazy enough to run that silly little jog on Labor Day. Truthfully, all credit for this decision should go to my husband, for keeping me going when I couldn’t muster the nerve.

Old Friends

Spouses tend know each other better than anyone else on the planet. And so, when I announced my defeat to the marathon, along with my revised plan to run the marathon RELAY, he didn’t say anything. (This is good because I was still in love-struck stupor over my newest brilliant plan, and I wouldn’t have listened to a word he said anyway.) Later, when I wasn’t expecting it, he made his own announcement; “You’re going to run that marathon,” he said. I was so startled I couldn’t help but laugh! Next, he said something that I really couldn’t argue with: “If you chicken out, you’ll be depressed, and I’m not going to let that happen.”  He pegged me. I had no words. In fact, I think I was so relieved to have someone other than me pushing me that I probably smiled a little.

I have someone else to push me. I think this is the biggest mistake that I made all summer. I was feeling self-conscious, and so I tried to do everything by myself. Sure, I’m disciplined, but without friends, it’s hard to find consistent motivation—especially when you’re burnt out. We all have bad days, and your fellow runners can really make a difference. Also, if you lose touch with your community of runners, it becomes all too easy to be self-satisfied. For example, I was feeling pretty proud of myself for running to work a couple of times (8 miles point-to-point) until I read about another lady on Facebook. She was polishing off NINETEEN miles before work. Inspiring, much??!!

All in all, it’s turning out to be a win-win situation. I didn’t run the volume I had planned, and as a result, I won’t likely have the incredible PB I was hoping to capture; however, I have captured some incredible memories this summer, while learning some very important lessons. I guess some of us just have to learn everything the hard way. There won’t be much “hay in the barn” when I toe that line, but I’ll be there, I’ll be smiling, and I’ll finish. Sounds like a decent plan after all! ;)

**P.S.This is my second year running, and I have to recommend the event! Not only is it well-organized, fun, and affordable, but it also benefits some great organizations within the outdoor/active community!

 http://www.trailsandopenspaces.org/          http://www.pprrun.org/

Today

I held a tiny patient at work today. In spite of tremendous obstacles, he’s here. He’s alive. His parents are thrilled, but anxious. They have no idea what it’s like to be parents, let alone parents of a child with special needs. Having only done this for a week, their eyes are already showing the strain of multiple doctor appointments, special instructions... changes.

For some reason, I’m feeling emotional, and all I want is to hug the mom and tell her the thing you’re never supposed to tell anyone: that it’s going to be okay. But, I don’t know if it will be okay. In fact, I know as well as she does that these kiddos may live extraordinary lives, continually overcoming obstacles and giving joy to all who cross their path, until one day. One day, it’s time, and they go home.

I guess you can’t let your mind go there. I guess you look at each day and do the best you can. I guess you celebrate every milestone… I guess? In reality, I have no idea how these courageous parents and children do it. And what about the siblings who patiently endure those same doctor appointments, special instructions, and changes—from the “passenger” side? How do they do it?

There’s been a lot of talk about healthcare lately. With good reason, politicians, professionals, and constituents are wondering what the future holds. As a student, I can’t help but wonder. What does my future look like? What role will therapists, doctors, nurses, and aides take under the new plan? Will job markets grow or shrink? But, I guess I’m not going there.

The truth is I owe my life to children’s hospitals. I have the scars to prove that someone fought for my life. I also have the parents who, never predicting that their firstborn would be so sick, still get teary-eyed when they see pictures or talk about the trauma of life with a critically ill infant. Maybe that’s why I feel so overwhelmed as I hold this little baby and talk with his mom and dad. Maybe I shouldn’t, but I can’t help but relate to their fears and pains. The choice to love and care for another in the face of uncertainty IS scary. It IS a risk because as cliché as it might sound, tomorrow is not promised.

So, if you want to know what I think about healthcare, I’ll tell you. No matter your role, patient, provider, passenger, there is risk. You’ll face uncertainty, success and loss, but as I hold this tiny life, I’ve never been more sure of anything. It’s worth it.   

I Lost My Mojo!

Photo Credit: Ericka W.

In terms of running, the month of May was pretty busy. Officially, I completed three events in two weekends: The Colfax Marathon, The Color Run 5K, and the Bolder Boulder 10K. Unofficially? All I did was psych myself out. Chalk it up to inexperience or my over-achiever personality, but with each race, my body felt weaker and my pace slowed, leaving me feeling pretty dang low. In fact, for the past week I’ve been moping around like a lost puppy. I tried to revive myself by catching up with a local group, but when push came to shove, I chickened out and logged a few solo miles instead. It would seem that I’ve lost my mojo. No, it’s worse. I’ve lost my mojo and replaced it with “go slow."

Well, of course, I never miss an opportunity to over-analyze anything, so, I’ve been reading and thinking and thinking and reading. I even came across a few articles about reviving your mojo… Hmm. Can’t post any memorable links, but if nothing else, they were certainly good for a laugh! Oh, and I’ve increased my parenting skill! Who knew that self-help articles were excellent maternal resources? For instance, when my three-year-old was wailing dramatically about the fact that she was once again at the dinner table alone (because it takes her 

an hour to eat ½ cup of macaroni), I simply looked deeply into her giant hazel eyes and said calmly, “Sis, it is in your power to change.” (And, it worked. I promise.)

Finally, after an inordinate amount of introspection, I realized that I feel most comfortable branching out from an established base level of fitness. I lost a lot of my weekly miles when my foot started bothering me, and with all the rest, cross training, and events, I never fully got back on track. Consequently, I feel like I am a brand new runner, starting from scratch. It’s discouraging, but at least I have a plan!

My plan includes running more. Ah, I know. Novel. But, if you were me, you’d be wincing at those two words because for the first time in ages, running has become WORK. I can’t just slip on my shoes and go bounding out the door for an easy ten, smiling all the way. I have to mentally prepare and practice discipline to go—even for a quickie. It stinks, but it’s real. Fortunately, so is my resolve.

For my next event (American Discovery Trail Marathon), I’ve decided to go with Hal Higdon’s Intermediate program. I’ve also committed the month of June to building back my miles. I like to try new things and hang out with great people, so it’s been tempting to ignore my weekend runs in favor of something different. At least for now, I’ll need to be a little more rigid with my schedule. Lastly, I’ve  decided to ditch the headphones for my long runs. Music gives me “tunnel-think,” and I miss out on both, the opportunity to listen to what my body is telling me, and the sheer experience of being outdoors.

I’ve less than twelve weeks ‘til my next race, with a potential half somewhere in between. No more feel-good-mumbo-jumbo. It’s time to get to work! ;)