My life is pretty much an open book. I try to be genuine and authentic at all times. The down side to this is that I am told (by my husband in particular) that I overshare at times. Working on that! Anywhoo, I share my life, my feelings, and my experiences with people because I know that I am inspired and energized by others who do this with/for me.
My hope is that my experiences and views may encourage someone else, which brings me to something I have heard at every turn lately.
In a sermon the other day, we were asked, "do you influence others positively?". On my long run this morning, I listened to a podcast by Beth Moore on how we use our time, gifts, and talents. It certainly made me think, "Am I effectively using my gifts, talents, and time to impact others?" I came to the conclusion that I could me more effective if I were more focused. Will be working on that too!
The fact is that, we really arent on the earth for very long. You've heard it before" make each day count". But my question is this: What is your impact? Imagine if you were to really sharpen your gifts and talents, and use them to positively impact the lives of others. That is exactly what God has called us to do!
How will you impact others?
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Thursday, June 23, 2011
In the name of Progress
I have recently changed up my workouts because I became stagnant and no longer saw progress. So, although three early morning spin classes and a few runs each week were great, I decided to change things up a bit. I am now following a half marathon training program in order to get me ready to race in the fall, as well as beginning a serious hot-n-heavy weight program. (hot-n-heavy for me, at least.)
To be honest with you, all this change is uncomfortable. It's uncomfortable physically for obvious reasons, but also mentally. I battle thoughts, like "am I really ready for this?", or "I don't think I can do this today." On my first speed work day with my running group, none of us expected it to be so hard, and I think we all were a little unsettled with the change in routine.
I'm sure you've heard the saying that goes something like, "if you do what what you've always done, you're gonna get what you've always gotten". In terms of your physical body, you won't continue to grow and get stronger by doing what has become easy and comfortable for your body.
This is true in our everyday lives as well. We must raise the bar every now and then- spiritually, emotionally, and mentally. We won't grow by holding onto the same old behaviors and attitudes- gossiping, bad attitudes, negativity, worry, fear, or whatever it is holding us back.
Both physically and mentally, changing it up is not easy, but it will be worth it. Every challenge will make you stronger! And, after you've done the hard, uphill part, take a moment and rest at the top. This bible tells us to "be still [rest] and know that I am God." Everything that I have read tells me that it is in the rest period that you gain the most physical strength. And, I know from experience that the same is true of our spiritual lives. So, in the name of progress, raise the bar, switch it up, and then REST.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I am off to enjoy my day of rest!
To be honest with you, all this change is uncomfortable. It's uncomfortable physically for obvious reasons, but also mentally. I battle thoughts, like "am I really ready for this?", or "I don't think I can do this today." On my first speed work day with my running group, none of us expected it to be so hard, and I think we all were a little unsettled with the change in routine.
I'm sure you've heard the saying that goes something like, "if you do what what you've always done, you're gonna get what you've always gotten". In terms of your physical body, you won't continue to grow and get stronger by doing what has become easy and comfortable for your body.
This is true in our everyday lives as well. We must raise the bar every now and then- spiritually, emotionally, and mentally. We won't grow by holding onto the same old behaviors and attitudes- gossiping, bad attitudes, negativity, worry, fear, or whatever it is holding us back.
Both physically and mentally, changing it up is not easy, but it will be worth it. Every challenge will make you stronger! And, after you've done the hard, uphill part, take a moment and rest at the top. This bible tells us to "be still [rest] and know that I am God." Everything that I have read tells me that it is in the rest period that you gain the most physical strength. And, I know from experience that the same is true of our spiritual lives. So, in the name of progress, raise the bar, switch it up, and then REST.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I am off to enjoy my day of rest!
Monday, May 16, 2011
Fear not!
So, here's a big revelation: I'm sick of being fearful! Honestly, most people who know me would say I am generally not a fearful person. I don't even have fear at times when I probably should (I have been scuba diving with sharks, don't blink an eye on turbulent plane rides, and I don't fear burglars or creepy men. I guess I just feel I could totally take 'em down.) But, I do have some fears that run deep.
I deeply fear heights. I decided once, while in Mexico, that I would face that ridiculous fear and go parasailing. (Mostly because everyone in my party was doing it, and I didn't want to look like a big sissy!) So, the sketchy Mexican man who "no speaka no english", but knew exactly how to count my 50 American bucks in english, hooked me up to the harness. As I was lifted off of the sand and began to rise over the ocean, I started to panic. My throat got dry, and I couldn't scream. Trust me, I tried. I held on to those ropes so tight that my hands were blistered and my entire upper body felt like the first (and LAST) time I tried to conquer P90X. And, if you've been parasailing, you know that holding onto the harness ropes does absolutely no good. Holding on for dear life won't keep you from plummeting to your death and being eaten by sharks. But, I don't have to explain that it wasn't exactly a logical moment for me.
Did the whole experience help me to conquer my fear? Uh, nope. Now, I just break out in hives when I remember the whole thing.
I have other fears too. I fear something happening to me, and my children growing up without a mom. This is almost definitely because this was my childhood experience. It left such a painful scar, that I can't even count the number of times I have prayed for this to never ever happen to my children.
I also fear losing mobility...having my muscles deteriorate, and being unable to control my body. This fear is founded in my doctor's reports of what could be in my future. This has kept me from doing certain things like, exploring the possibility of botox to ward off the deep crevices creeping up around my eyes, and becoming a totally hot and way too muscular body builder...or just light weight training...
BUT, I am now on a mission to eradicate fear in my life, specifically regarding my physical condition. I can't find one scripture that says, "live in fear, and let it keepest thou from accomplishing things in life." In fact, the Bible's message is contrary to that.
SO, I am trying new things. New workouts have stretched and strengthened muscles that were once weak and stiff due to Muscular Dystrophy. I don't plan to completely throw caution to the wind, but I do plan to start a serious weight training program and get totally ripped...or, just a bit more toned... I know that what happens within my body and my life is not completely within my control, but I know that the way in which I choose to live IS. And, no matter what happens in my life that is outside of my control, I know that the bible says in Proverbs that my steps are established by God.
I deeply fear heights. I decided once, while in Mexico, that I would face that ridiculous fear and go parasailing. (Mostly because everyone in my party was doing it, and I didn't want to look like a big sissy!) So, the sketchy Mexican man who "no speaka no english", but knew exactly how to count my 50 American bucks in english, hooked me up to the harness. As I was lifted off of the sand and began to rise over the ocean, I started to panic. My throat got dry, and I couldn't scream. Trust me, I tried. I held on to those ropes so tight that my hands were blistered and my entire upper body felt like the first (and LAST) time I tried to conquer P90X. And, if you've been parasailing, you know that holding onto the harness ropes does absolutely no good. Holding on for dear life won't keep you from plummeting to your death and being eaten by sharks. But, I don't have to explain that it wasn't exactly a logical moment for me.
Did the whole experience help me to conquer my fear? Uh, nope. Now, I just break out in hives when I remember the whole thing.
I have other fears too. I fear something happening to me, and my children growing up without a mom. This is almost definitely because this was my childhood experience. It left such a painful scar, that I can't even count the number of times I have prayed for this to never ever happen to my children.
I also fear losing mobility...having my muscles deteriorate, and being unable to control my body. This fear is founded in my doctor's reports of what could be in my future. This has kept me from doing certain things like, exploring the possibility of botox to ward off the deep crevices creeping up around my eyes, and becoming a totally hot and way too muscular body builder...or just light weight training...
BUT, I am now on a mission to eradicate fear in my life, specifically regarding my physical condition. I can't find one scripture that says, "live in fear, and let it keepest thou from accomplishing things in life." In fact, the Bible's message is contrary to that.
SO, I am trying new things. New workouts have stretched and strengthened muscles that were once weak and stiff due to Muscular Dystrophy. I don't plan to completely throw caution to the wind, but I do plan to start a serious weight training program and get totally ripped...or, just a bit more toned... I know that what happens within my body and my life is not completely within my control, but I know that the way in which I choose to live IS. And, no matter what happens in my life that is outside of my control, I know that the bible says in Proverbs that my steps are established by God.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Mom Runs
"Laundry, grocery store...don't forget cupcake mix…make the cupcakes…and an appointment with the doctor..." This is the list that typically goes through my mind during the first mile of my morning runs. I go through my to-do list, decide the order in which I will get everything done, and formulate a plan. Then, my mind can be cleared for thinking...about absolutely nothing except for my breathing, the song on my ipod, or the beautiful spring morning before me.
It's no wonder running is growing so popular amongst my mommy friends. It gives us time and space to just be, without being needed or beckoned to play another round of Candyland (although I do love the way it makes my kids so happy for me to sit down on the floor and let it all hang out with them.) But, running time is different. It allows time to focus on nothing, so that we can later focus on everything. It burns off nervous or tense energy, so that we can be more present in the tasks of the day.
Those morning runs are so renewing, and last just long enough to be reminded of every precious and wonderful thing that awaits us when we walk in the door at home and hear, "Mom, come wipe me!" There's no place like home.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
My fake ID
I am over 21. I promise. But, for years, I carried around a fake I.D., until I decided to throw it out. I don't mean a government issued ID. I mean a mental one. (We all know that fake ID cards are highly illegal, and I do not break the law. Aside from the occasional speeding ticket...and not using the crosswalk...and the rolling-stop at a stop sign... but speeding up for a yellow light is totally legal, right?)
I'm not perfect! And, I'm usually in a hurry. But, back to my point.
But those whose hope is in the Lord will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles.
They will run and not grow weary.
They will walk and not faint.
Isaiah 40:31
I would recite this verse to myself during almost every workout in the beginning. It was only a year and a half ago that I began the Couch to 5k plan, running just one minute and walking for one minute. It was hard. I wanted to give up. I often got frustrated with myself for my lack of physical endurance. But, ultimately I was more frustrated with my overweight, unhealthy body. So, I kept at it. I refused to call myself a big girl, jiggling through her walk/run while gasping for air... no matter how accurate the description.
I realized that my Identity was not defined by my past failures or lack. I was not defined by past emotional eating binges, my lack of self-restraint or self-discipline. I was defined by God himself, and he said in Ephesians 2:10 that I am His handiwork. That's all I needed to know. I was ready to trade in my old fake ID that said "unhealthy and unwilling to change" for my real one that said, "God's Handiwork".
A few weeks ago, I posted on Facebook that I had just completed a great run with great friends, and a FB friend commented that she wished she had my willpower. My response? "You do. The Lord is my strength"
No matter what our past choices, we are all capable of making wiser, healthier choices from this day forward as long as we just believe we are who God says we are. If we choose not to, we can't. We won't. We're weak, and we're unable.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Fit-n-friendly
This weekend, I took the kids on their first "big kid" bike ride in our neighborhood. They have both finally mastered riding their "big girl training wheel bikes", so I thought we'd give it a shot. They hopped on their princess bikes, I hopped on my mountain bike, and we were off, pink sparkly streamers waving in the breeze.
My brother and me before our first half marathon ever! January, 2010
Team "Feets for Teets", Susan G. Komen Race, 2010
5K for MDA, June, 2010
Houston Half Marathon, January, 2011
To my utter surprise, they did great! I made sure to go very slowly, and both girls peddled their little legs until they couldn't peddle anymore. I kept telling them how great they were doing and how proud I was of their hard work getting up the hills, and how fun it would be to coast down the hill. With each encouraging comment from me, their faces lit up, and I would watch their eyes as they focused intently on the task at hand- getting to the top of those hills.
By the end of the one mile ride, they were pleasantly tired and proud of themselves for making it all the way. On the way inside, they both shouted, "let's do that again after we rest!" It was apparent they were reveling in the sense of accomplishment they felt. They had stepped up to this new challenge and it felt great! "Daddy, we just did a long bike ride, and we didn't even have to stop!", they yelled as we opened the front door. I promised another ride after dinner if they were up to it.
Later that evening, as I cleaned up the dinner dishes, I was reminded of my promise (though I was a little tired and sort of secretly hoped they had forgotten). We climbed on our bikes again, and ventured out on another ride, this time stopping to play at the neighborhood park on the way home.
Something great happened on this ride, though. As we went up the first hill, Kaley looked over at her little sister peddling with all her might, and said, "Good job, Addie, you got this!" Addie replied, "you too, sissy. You're almost to the top!" It was so facsinating to see them shouting words of encouragement at each hill! I beamed with pride to see them helping each other along. It was priceless!
I've had this same experience myself. There have been several times that I have been near the end of a race and completely exhausted, when I spotted my brother or a friend doubling back to meet me and run it in with me. As they step in beside me, I match my footsteps to theirs, and we sprint to the finish line. I know that without them, I would not be able to muster the energy to do so. I am so thankful for my precious running and fitness friends, who keep me going! Just like my little girls, we encourage each other when it all seems uphill, and celebrate one another's accomplishments. I couldn't do it without them.
I encourage you to find a fitness friend of your own. The bible says that, "as iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." (Proverbs 27:17) Find someone to keep you accountable and sharpen you this week. Then, be prepared to do some sharpening too. Fitness friends are priceless!
My brother and me before our first half marathon ever! January, 2010
October, 2010- Oyster Urban Race, Austin, TX
Team "Feets for Teets", Susan G. Komen Race, 2010
5K for MDA, June, 2010
Houston Half Marathon, January, 2011Friday, March 18, 2011
Gettin' real
From my eliptical machine at the gym this morning, I watched an older gentleman wheel his oxygen tank into the cardio room. I wondered if maybe he had gotten lost, and was looking for the "silver sneekers" or "seniors stretching" class. So, expecting to see him stop in the middle of the room and look bewildered, I followed him with my eyes, ready to get off my machine to help him in his confusion. But, I watched as he climbed onto a treadmill and began his workout. It was a slow walk at first, and then he picked up the pace. Now, this was something I had never seen before. What amazing ambition! Here he was, oxygen tubes attached to his face, lugging around a scuba-sized tank that pushed air into his nostrils, but he climbed up there and worked out just like the fit, lean soccer mom to his right.
It's a wonderfully moving sight to behold- people who refuse to be limited by their physical "limitations". I have taken yoga classes with extremely overweight people who could barely see their toes, much less touch them. I have run beside people with Cerebral Palsy and Parkinson's disease. (ahem, by "beside", I mean they ran right past me.) It may be the popular opinion that these physically "challenged" people have no business in the gym, in yoga class, or running a road race. This kind of thing should be left to the "real" athletes, right?
In my opinion, these ARE the real athletes. Despite all the reasons why not, they think to themselves, "yeah, why the heck not?" And, then they go for it. It takes little courage to think of yourself as an athlete when you look in the mirror and see a muscular, lean mean athletic machine. It takes much more to look in the mirror and see reminders of your weaknesses staring back at you and still know you ARE strong.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Just Shut up and do it
This Tuesday was fat Tuesday. For those of you who feel like everyday is Fat day, I feel ya. I was looking back at pictures from about a year ago and realized that I look a lot different these days. Twenty pounds lighter, and I feel so much better. I still have a way to go, but what got me from there to here? I just got out there and did it. I quit making excuses, sucked up my unfamiliarity with the gym and got it done, son!!
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Last week was my little Kaley's 5th birthday, and she had some work done. Not in the same way I would like to. She has wanted so badly to get her ears pierced, so after cupcakes with her friends at preschool, we made an afternoon of it. I first took her to a "fancy french restaurant," (La Madeline) for a cookie and a big bowl of strawberries minus the Romanoff. Then, we ventured over to the mall for a new bedazzled outfit, and then to do the deed.
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She was so brave as she got into the chair, not really knowing what was going to transpire (even though I have always warned her that it would hurt). I, just like most moms, did not want to see my little girl in unnecessary pain, so I gave her a chance to back out, by asking, "You sure you still want to?". Her answer, "yep, I'm really sure." So, I explained to her the importance of holding still so that her holes would not be crooked, and she braced herself on the arms of the chair as they put the piercing guns to her ear lobes. As the earrings shot through her ears, she sat very still, but got big-eyed, and screamed in pain. That was the part I was dreading. I let her bury her head in my chest when they finished, and we hugged it out.
Big tears were shed in that piercing chair that afternoon, as she said, "mommy, I did not know it would hurt that bad." But, as soon as I lifted the mirror for her to see her new pink sparkly studs in her ears, she smiled a huge smile, and said, "Wow, I look PRETTY." To her, it had all been worth it. And, that was the end of the tears. I was so incredibly proud of her. She had taken it like a woman. She hadn't backed down. She just got the job done.
So, in honor Fat Tuesday, let's take a lesson from my brave little preschooler. Just shut up, get out there and do it. No excuses, no backing out. Just say no to Fat TODAY. Period. Make the changes you've been wanting to make, start walking or running, or attend a group fitness class like you've said you would. Just shut up, brace yourself for the pain, and know it will be all worth it!
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Celebrate good times...COME ON!
I realized the other day that I have a really hard time with talking positively about my self and my athletic abilities. On morning runs with my running group, I joke that when I begin my run, the "slow bus" is leaving the station, and urge everyone to give me at least a 10 minute head start. I tell people that I can't wait to run with them....and then follow up with..."I mean waaaaaay behind you". I even bought a shirt that says, "If it weren't for me, you'd have no one to pass" on the front, and "If you can read this, I'm not last" on the back. Hilarious, I know. That's why I felt the overwhelming urge to buy it.
I usually do my runs outside in the whee hours of the morning, but I was forced to run on the treadmill a few mornings ago. I ran a total of four miles, and I'm not going to lie- it took a while. At my gym, the cardio room and weight room are separated only by a few glass walls and some large flat screen TVs hanging from the ceiling. A big beefy Hulk Hogan look-alike, who had been lifting ginormous weights, happened to walk by as I was hopping off of the treadmill. He jokingly asked me, "Did you just run like 30 miles?", since he had watched me run for so long. I replied, "nope. four. I'm just that slow." He said that I did better than he would, and I wondered how in the world he would fit all that muscle between the handrails on the treadmill anyway. Of course, I did not share that with him though. Some things are meant to stay inside my head...until I type my blog, of course. Aren't you lucky! :)
As I walked away, I thought to myself, "why do I always do that??" I can't just take a compliment, and walk away. I have to insult myself, make some derogatory joke, of which I am the butt...literally. It's no wonder that I doubt myself during more challenging long runs and new athletic pursuits. I constantly say that I am incapable, even if it is "just a joke".
All of that has to change. It may give people a little chuckle, but each little negative comment I make about myself chips away at my confidence. No more, "But, I'm not a real runner", or "I run slower than you can walk", or "slow bus" comments. It's time to celebrate that I have the mental and physical ability to complete my physically demanding workouts. I should remind myself that not everyone is able to do these things that we take for granted. I would be willing to bet my life savings that a quadriplegic patient or ALS patient would give just about anything to get on a treadmill and run a few miles, no matter how slow. I know I have said it many times in previous posts, but I am so incredibly thankful that I can. It's time for me to celebrate that, and you should too!
If you see me finishing up a run at the gym, shaking my "groove thang" as I wipe down the treadmill, don't mind me- just celebratin'. If you happen to be in spin class with me and I let out an, "WOOP WOOP, can I get a witness?!"- just celebratin'. And the next time I get a compliment about how hard I work out, I promise to try (very hard) to take it like a woman and keep my mouth shut, except for a polite blush and a "thanks". I may even follow up with an, "oh, that was nothin." Before too long, I'm sure I'll start to believe it too.
I usually do my runs outside in the whee hours of the morning, but I was forced to run on the treadmill a few mornings ago. I ran a total of four miles, and I'm not going to lie- it took a while. At my gym, the cardio room and weight room are separated only by a few glass walls and some large flat screen TVs hanging from the ceiling. A big beefy Hulk Hogan look-alike, who had been lifting ginormous weights, happened to walk by as I was hopping off of the treadmill. He jokingly asked me, "Did you just run like 30 miles?", since he had watched me run for so long. I replied, "nope. four. I'm just that slow." He said that I did better than he would, and I wondered how in the world he would fit all that muscle between the handrails on the treadmill anyway. Of course, I did not share that with him though. Some things are meant to stay inside my head...until I type my blog, of course. Aren't you lucky! :)
As I walked away, I thought to myself, "why do I always do that??" I can't just take a compliment, and walk away. I have to insult myself, make some derogatory joke, of which I am the butt...literally. It's no wonder that I doubt myself during more challenging long runs and new athletic pursuits. I constantly say that I am incapable, even if it is "just a joke".
All of that has to change. It may give people a little chuckle, but each little negative comment I make about myself chips away at my confidence. No more, "But, I'm not a real runner", or "I run slower than you can walk", or "slow bus" comments. It's time to celebrate that I have the mental and physical ability to complete my physically demanding workouts. I should remind myself that not everyone is able to do these things that we take for granted. I would be willing to bet my life savings that a quadriplegic patient or ALS patient would give just about anything to get on a treadmill and run a few miles, no matter how slow. I know I have said it many times in previous posts, but I am so incredibly thankful that I can. It's time for me to celebrate that, and you should too!
If you see me finishing up a run at the gym, shaking my "groove thang" as I wipe down the treadmill, don't mind me- just celebratin'. If you happen to be in spin class with me and I let out an, "WOOP WOOP, can I get a witness?!"- just celebratin'. And the next time I get a compliment about how hard I work out, I promise to try (very hard) to take it like a woman and keep my mouth shut, except for a polite blush and a "thanks". I may even follow up with an, "oh, that was nothin." Before too long, I'm sure I'll start to believe it too.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Success OR Perfection?
Why is it that we use such stringent and impossible ideals to judge ourselves and determine our success or failure? When will we (by "we", I mean mostly "I") realize that success does NOT mean perfection?
Last week, for my long run, I ran/walked 6.5 miles, and took a nearly 20 minute walk break in the middle. Afterward, I wondered whether to file that workout away as a walk or a run. I decided that as far as workouts go, it was not so great. It took forever to complete, and I walked a ton. Definitely not my best workout, but certainly not my worst either. But, why did I even have to analyze it that way? Is there some rule of running that states that all workouts must fit neatly into a category of a successful run or failed attempt at running? Of course not!
I have a friend who is seriously struggling with self-confidence right now. This precious friend used to run circles around me (quite literally) just a few months ago, but has had a few setbacks, and after several months is now reluctantly restarting her workout routine. She is simply afraid to even try running right now, for fear of failing miserably.
The fact is that even though neither of us are Sports Illustrated Cover-ready, we are both relatively healthy and strong. Yet, we judge ourselves so harshly and walk around calling ourselves failures. It's something that we women do way too much. We consider ourselves to be fat slobs because we don't have the rock hard body of that spin instructor, or failed once again to make time to do that ab video that we bought last week and swore we would do every single day. We can no longer fit into a size 4, and don't remember the last time we had the willpower to skip dessert.
Um, sorry, but, big fat stinkin' deal!
Whether you complete a 20 minute workout video, make good food choices today, accomplish a two mile power walk, or ten mile run, you have accomplished more than MOST Americans today. You are choosing to live healthy and probably inspiring others to do the same.
This afternoon, while swinging in the backyard, my two little girls began screaming, "mommy, we love exercise! Playing and moving our bodies is exercise. Let's exercise!" There's my success! They know that I go to early morning spin classes, or out on early morning runs, and sometimes they even do my yoga video workout with me (even more expertly than I can- I might add!) So, if I accomplish nothing else with my healthier choices, at least I am setting a positive example for them. I'm FAR from perfect but I'll take that kind of success any day.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
The Third time's a charm
I have taken most of the month of January off from blogging to focus on my training to complete my third half marathon. It has required lots of early morning (very chilly) runs, working around hunting season schedule conflicts to get in long runs on the weekends, and a more consistent bedtime, (which meant no more late night blogging). But, it was well worth it because now, I can call myself a three time half marathon finisher.
And, I now have the right to wear this shirt. It's my new favorite.
Did I run like a Kenyan and bring home a winner's medal? Nope. In fact, I didn't even catch a glimpse of the Kenyans on the race course because they were so far ahead, even though they ran TWICE the distance that I did. But, I finished...in the rain, and 96% humidity, and without collapsing...and set a personal record for myself by NINE minutes. That, my friend, is not an easy feat.
Exactly one year ago, I completed my first half marathon, which was a huge and lofty goal for an unfit, overweight, non-athletic girl with Muscular Dystrophy. But, (in my best Martin Luther King, JR. voice)...I had a dream! I dreamed that this whole running thing would become a lifestyle for me, a way that I could see some miraculous progress in my body. If you had seen me a year ago, it would be glaringly obvious that without some help from God almighty, that would be near impossible...OK, who am I kidding?...completely and utterly impossible.
Recently, my pastor has preached a series on adding value to your life, and I distinctly remember him saying a few weeks ago that most of us have to see to believe, but that we should instead, have the faith to believe to see the miraculous and impossible in our lives. He told a story about a Navy leader in the Korean war, whose fleet was surrounded by the enemy. When this leader received the report that the enemy was in front, to the east, to the west, and behind his fleet, his response was something like, "good, now they can't get away." He was a glass half full kind of guy apparently. His fleet actually won the battle against all odds, as they were outnumbered and surrounded on all sides.
Friends, I have fought a tough mental battle. Many times, I have felt surrounded on all sides. I have had to come to a place (more than once, I'll admit) of having to say, "Alright, now, God. I am in your hands. Can a girl get some help up in here?" And, God in all his wisdom and faithfulness responded (more than once), by exceeding my hopes. And despite all the odds, I have always pictured myself (even during that first hellish 5K) finishing a long grueling race, feeling great, with a smile on my face. Something inside of me has said along the way,"Dare to believe it, and you WILL see it"
Some runs haven't gone so well, and others have gone wonderfully. But, I have most definitely progressed in my fitness level and physical strength. I think back to that first 5k, where I barely beat out an elderly lady for LAST place and wanted to throw up from sheer physical exertion. But, a few days ago, I ran the Houston Half marathon (13.1 MILES, Holla!) and did not feel the urge to puke or crawl to the medic tent, begging for resuscitation. Nope, not this girl. I am told that Channel 13 news has a shot of me running the race, drenched from rain and sweat, face beet red, waving for the cameras, with a big smile. Just exactly how I dreamed....
Did I run like a Kenyan and bring home a winner's medal? Nope. In fact, I didn't even catch a glimpse of the Kenyans on the race course because they were so far ahead, even though they ran TWICE the distance that I did. But, I finished...in the rain, and 96% humidity, and without collapsing...and set a personal record for myself by NINE minutes. That, my friend, is not an easy feat.
Exactly one year ago, I completed my first half marathon, which was a huge and lofty goal for an unfit, overweight, non-athletic girl with Muscular Dystrophy. But, (in my best Martin Luther King, JR. voice)...I had a dream! I dreamed that this whole running thing would become a lifestyle for me, a way that I could see some miraculous progress in my body. If you had seen me a year ago, it would be glaringly obvious that without some help from God almighty, that would be near impossible...OK, who am I kidding?...completely and utterly impossible.
Recently, my pastor has preached a series on adding value to your life, and I distinctly remember him saying a few weeks ago that most of us have to see to believe, but that we should instead, have the faith to believe to see the miraculous and impossible in our lives. He told a story about a Navy leader in the Korean war, whose fleet was surrounded by the enemy. When this leader received the report that the enemy was in front, to the east, to the west, and behind his fleet, his response was something like, "good, now they can't get away." He was a glass half full kind of guy apparently. His fleet actually won the battle against all odds, as they were outnumbered and surrounded on all sides.
Friends, I have fought a tough mental battle. Many times, I have felt surrounded on all sides. I have had to come to a place (more than once, I'll admit) of having to say, "Alright, now, God. I am in your hands. Can a girl get some help up in here?" And, God in all his wisdom and faithfulness responded (more than once), by exceeding my hopes. And despite all the odds, I have always pictured myself (even during that first hellish 5K) finishing a long grueling race, feeling great, with a smile on my face. Something inside of me has said along the way,"Dare to believe it, and you WILL see it"
Some runs haven't gone so well, and others have gone wonderfully. But, I have most definitely progressed in my fitness level and physical strength. I think back to that first 5k, where I barely beat out an elderly lady for LAST place and wanted to throw up from sheer physical exertion. But, a few days ago, I ran the Houston Half marathon (13.1 MILES, Holla!) and did not feel the urge to puke or crawl to the medic tent, begging for resuscitation. Nope, not this girl. I am told that Channel 13 news has a shot of me running the race, drenched from rain and sweat, face beet red, waving for the cameras, with a big smile. Just exactly how I dreamed....
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Who's Your Mama?
Warning- Random thoughts and a garbage truck load of cheeseball phrases await you in this post. Read only if you dare.
This morning, on my run, I was thinking of all the cheesy phrases people use for motivation in running and fitness. "Power through", "Tap into your source", "Use your Chi and relax your legs". (Seriously? I am RUNNING, for heaven's sake. How relaxed can my legs possibly be??) "Center Yourself". Sure thing. What in the world does that even mean? "Use your powerhouse". Uh huh.
What about all those cliches about struggles and life circumstances? "Everything happens for a reason". Duh.
On New Year's Eve, we invited some friends over for dinner, and to let all the kids run around the house like wild wildebeests. We have a tradition with these friends. Almost every time we get together for dinner, our husbands try to recreate a favorite Asian dish from a restaurant that they once loved, but is now closed. We wives stay out of the way and pretend not to see the aforementioned wild animals trekking through the house. This time, they brought over some hot and sour soup from a local Chinese restaurant to accompany the meal. In the bottom of the bag, there were two fortune cookies. We joked that each family gets one, and we made our selections. I opened the Hall family fortune. (Understand, we don't put a lot of faith in what we find in fortune cookies. We usually like to read them, and then complete the sentence with "on the toilet". It's great fun. You should try it sometime.)
Anyway, I opened up our cookie, and this is what I found: "You will obtain your goal if you maintain your course". Now, if you didn't read my post entitled "Staying on Course", this means nothing. But, if you did, you are saying "Ooh, Wow". Yeah, that's exactly what I said.
Back to this morning. I knew this would be a good week. I was due one. So, I decided to start it with a bang. (Yep, more cliches are on the way). I had my mind set to make it a good run today, and prove to myself that I can do it! So, instead of avoiding the harder hills, or just walking them like I normally do, I decided to take the bull by the horns and run up them. Every one of them.
I think that when it comes to running, and just life in general, sometimes you need to take that bull by his big ugly horns, and drag him up the hills, kicking, snorting, and digging his muscle-bound bull hooves into the dirt, moving backwards with all his might. Get in there, get it done, and call it a day. Then, shout, "Who's your mama, now, bull?" (Only do that if you are positive no one is within hearing distance).
So, that's what I did (shouting only figuratively, of course). At every one of those nasty little hills. And, that's what I intend to do from now on. I am going to keep on keepin' on, knowing exactly WHO is my powerhouse, my source, and my strength- My God. He is behind it all, even the fortune cookie.
Aaaahhhh, Grasshopper. Not so random after all, huh?
I bet you never imagined you could read that many cliches in one sitting. You were wrong.
This morning, on my run, I was thinking of all the cheesy phrases people use for motivation in running and fitness. "Power through", "Tap into your source", "Use your Chi and relax your legs". (Seriously? I am RUNNING, for heaven's sake. How relaxed can my legs possibly be??) "Center Yourself". Sure thing. What in the world does that even mean? "Use your powerhouse". Uh huh.
What about all those cliches about struggles and life circumstances? "Everything happens for a reason". Duh.
On New Year's Eve, we invited some friends over for dinner, and to let all the kids run around the house like wild wildebeests. We have a tradition with these friends. Almost every time we get together for dinner, our husbands try to recreate a favorite Asian dish from a restaurant that they once loved, but is now closed. We wives stay out of the way and pretend not to see the aforementioned wild animals trekking through the house. This time, they brought over some hot and sour soup from a local Chinese restaurant to accompany the meal. In the bottom of the bag, there were two fortune cookies. We joked that each family gets one, and we made our selections. I opened the Hall family fortune. (Understand, we don't put a lot of faith in what we find in fortune cookies. We usually like to read them, and then complete the sentence with "on the toilet". It's great fun. You should try it sometime.)
Anyway, I opened up our cookie, and this is what I found: "You will obtain your goal if you maintain your course". Now, if you didn't read my post entitled "Staying on Course", this means nothing. But, if you did, you are saying "Ooh, Wow". Yeah, that's exactly what I said.
Back to this morning. I knew this would be a good week. I was due one. So, I decided to start it with a bang. (Yep, more cliches are on the way). I had my mind set to make it a good run today, and prove to myself that I can do it! So, instead of avoiding the harder hills, or just walking them like I normally do, I decided to take the bull by the horns and run up them. Every one of them.
I think that when it comes to running, and just life in general, sometimes you need to take that bull by his big ugly horns, and drag him up the hills, kicking, snorting, and digging his muscle-bound bull hooves into the dirt, moving backwards with all his might. Get in there, get it done, and call it a day. Then, shout, "Who's your mama, now, bull?" (Only do that if you are positive no one is within hearing distance).
So, that's what I did (shouting only figuratively, of course). At every one of those nasty little hills. And, that's what I intend to do from now on. I am going to keep on keepin' on, knowing exactly WHO is my powerhouse, my source, and my strength- My God. He is behind it all, even the fortune cookie.
Aaaahhhh, Grasshopper. Not so random after all, huh?
I bet you never imagined you could read that many cliches in one sitting. You were wrong.
Friday, December 31, 2010
First on my list
Today is New Year's Eve, and it's time to compose my annual list of resolutions. Though, the my list has a newly- revised title: "My list of How-I-Wills" (see my last post). Sure, the usual "get organized", and "exercise regularly" are on the list. But, I also realize that my actions greatly impact my family's. When I make a pan of brownies and stuff my face with them, do I really expect my kids and husband to not do the same? My mom's relationship with food was a love-hate one, and I kind of believe that I learned my binge on junk-feel guilty-eat only lettuce and carrots-binge again cycle in childhood. I want my girls to have a healthy, open-minded relationship with food, and sophisticated refined tastes and it's up to me to instill that.
"Make sure my family and I eat healthy" is vague, and hard to measure, so one of the top items on my list is "Stuff (or sneak in if necessary) as many fruits and veggies into my family's diet as humanly possible". In order to accomplish this, I intend to seek out recipes that will help me to achieve my goal. I have been scouring the Internet and blog sites to find yummy, simple, and normal tasting dishes my family will like. There are lots of sources out there, but my new favorite site is www.peasandthankyou.com. Check it out. Maybe it will be as inspirational to you as it has been for me! (By the way, I do not personally know this blog writer, I just think her blog rocks!)
"Make sure my family and I eat healthy" is vague, and hard to measure, so one of the top items on my list is "Stuff (or sneak in if necessary) as many fruits and veggies into my family's diet as humanly possible". In order to accomplish this, I intend to seek out recipes that will help me to achieve my goal. I have been scouring the Internet and blog sites to find yummy, simple, and normal tasting dishes my family will like. There are lots of sources out there, but my new favorite site is www.peasandthankyou.com. Check it out. Maybe it will be as inspirational to you as it has been for me! (By the way, I do not personally know this blog writer, I just think her blog rocks!)
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Your Princess Dress
Me: "Addie, what do you want to wear to our family Christmas party?"
Addie: "um.....uh......(Bright smile, as if she just figured out the perfect choice)...My Barbie Princess Dress."
Me: "Your Halloween costume? To a Christmas party?"
Her: (with absolute certainty and a sure nod): "Yep!"
This is what I LOVE about kids- their blatant disregard for expectations and limitations. Other children would probably be dressed in velvet dresses with red satin bows and patent leather shoes. But, to my little girl, none of that mattered, because her Barbie Princess dress should be perfectly fine for the occasion. Never mind the list of why-nots : chilly temperatures and the dress' sleeveless design, the uncomfortable nature of the stiff taffeta, or the fact that no one would truly "get" why she was wearing it at Christmas in the first place, because it's not the socially acceptable or appropriate outfit to wear. To a kid, none of this impacts their decision to just be who they want to be, weird and misunderstood, or not.
So, when do we lose this about ourselves? I admit that I will probably not be wearing a Barbie Princess dress ANYWHERE, for fear that I would be committed to mental hospital. So, I don't mean this literally. What I mean is, when do we lose the sense that each day is what we want to make it? Somewhere between childhood and adulthood, our mental conversation becomes something like this:
"I wish I could __________ (start my own business, get healthier, get fitter, learn a new skill, go back to school...)
THEN
The list of why-nots begin and we never follow through.
With the new year approaching, I am going to challenge myself to change my perspective, to get rid of my list of "why-nots" and replace it with my list of "how-I-wills." So, if you see me around town, maybe you'll hear the swish of my proverbial princess dress as I walk by. And, maybe, hopefully, you'll feel inspired to put on your own taffeta and join me...
Addie: "um.....uh......(Bright smile, as if she just figured out the perfect choice)...My Barbie Princess Dress."
Me: "Your Halloween costume? To a Christmas party?"
Her: (with absolute certainty and a sure nod): "Yep!"
This is what I LOVE about kids- their blatant disregard for expectations and limitations. Other children would probably be dressed in velvet dresses with red satin bows and patent leather shoes. But, to my little girl, none of that mattered, because her Barbie Princess dress should be perfectly fine for the occasion. Never mind the list of why-nots : chilly temperatures and the dress' sleeveless design, the uncomfortable nature of the stiff taffeta, or the fact that no one would truly "get" why she was wearing it at Christmas in the first place, because it's not the socially acceptable or appropriate outfit to wear. To a kid, none of this impacts their decision to just be who they want to be, weird and misunderstood, or not.
So, when do we lose this about ourselves? I admit that I will probably not be wearing a Barbie Princess dress ANYWHERE, for fear that I would be committed to mental hospital. So, I don't mean this literally. What I mean is, when do we lose the sense that each day is what we want to make it? Somewhere between childhood and adulthood, our mental conversation becomes something like this:
"I wish I could __________ (start my own business, get healthier, get fitter, learn a new skill, go back to school...)
THEN
The list of why-nots begin and we never follow through.
With the new year approaching, I am going to challenge myself to change my perspective, to get rid of my list of "why-nots" and replace it with my list of "how-I-wills." So, if you see me around town, maybe you'll hear the swish of my proverbial princess dress as I walk by. And, maybe, hopefully, you'll feel inspired to put on your own taffeta and join me...
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Staying the Course
I had one of those runs this morning that did more good for my mental and spiritual fitness than my physical fitness.
I have to confess that I have been dealing with a stressful situation lately. And, what exactly does this have to do with running? Absolutely nothing. Well, maybe a little, because, just like always, the time I spent running this morning completely cleared my mind. Running down a dark street at 5:30 in the morning forces you to be quiet, partly so that you can be aware of your surroundings, and partly because- well it's quiet at that time of the morning. During my morning run, it's usually just me and the occasional nocturnal creature I see and stear clear of.
Shortly after I started off on my normal 4.5 mile run this morning, I noticed that I was having to take many more walk breaks than usual. I thought about what could be causing my fatigue, and realized that the stress and anxiety I'd been feeling had negatively affected my sleep and was probably the cause . "No big deal", I thought. Four and a half miles is a long way and I often feel a little drained mid-run. So, just like I do anytime I feel a bit tired on a run, I started the pep talking. I told myself "suck it up, buttercup", followed by my usual, "come on, you've done this a million times. You know you can get through it. Just stay on course." At that moment, I felt God gently but firmly saying to me, "Come on, WE'VE done this a million times. Just trust me. I have ALWAYS carried you through. Just stay on course." And, I instantly knew, He was not talking about my morning run. God was speaking directly to me about my situation.
I immediately realized that I was anxious and scatter-brained because I was allowing myself to get distracted and off course. I was taking detour after detour down Worry Lane, which leads me to Anxiety Drive, and straight to a dead end in the middle of nowhere.
In my situation, I simply was not trusting God. And, why not? Have I forgotten all of the things he has brought me through in my life? I have been left, abandoned, and forsaken by people, but NEVER by God. I know this to be true because there have been times in my life when I have had no other choice than to trust that God would rescue me, and He always has. Despite the tragedy and hardships I have faced throughout my life, I have turned out pretty sane and level headed, and full of faith in the God who has seen me through all of it. So, why now, am I lacking in trust? I can blame it on my human nature to try to figure out how God is going to work out a situation, or how I can just work it out, so I don't have to depend on Him to do it for me. Or, I can blame it on my "trust issues". That would be completely popular and acceptable. Whatever the excuse I could have chosen to use, I knew in my heart and mind that I was wrong to not trust Him. 'Nuff said.
So, here I am in the middle of my run, tears welling in my eyes, thinking that it's really ridiculous how emotional I get sometimes when I run...but, also realizing that I simply cannot allow myself to be overtaken by JUNK like fear and anxiety.
I knew then that I was going to have to do a few things. First, I owed God an apology, which I wasted no time in giving. (We're cool now, by the way). Secondly, I was going to have to step back and recognize when fear was creeping up on me, and refuse to surrender to it. Besides, anyone who knows me knows that fear is just not me. I have never feared much, and I refuse to start now.
By this time, I was near the end of my run, and feeling so much less stressed, and a whole lot more level headed. I could think straight, without worry and anxiety clouding my every thought. Yes! I remembered this peaceful feeling. This is the feeling of sitting back, and realizing I am not the driver here, not even a backseat one. I need simply to trust the One who is.
For the last tenth of a mile, I started to feel full of energy again, full of "fight", realizing that I am strong and that as II Timothy 1:7 says, I have not been given a spirit of fear, but one of POWER... and a SOUND MIND. I looked down, and my feet were pounding the pavement hard, and my legs were racing underneath me. Now, I felt like myself again- the fearless, full of faith me that I knew that I was! That me is a whole heck of a lot better than fearful, worried me. Fearless me is actually pretty Awesome! ;)
I have to confess that I have been dealing with a stressful situation lately. And, what exactly does this have to do with running? Absolutely nothing. Well, maybe a little, because, just like always, the time I spent running this morning completely cleared my mind. Running down a dark street at 5:30 in the morning forces you to be quiet, partly so that you can be aware of your surroundings, and partly because- well it's quiet at that time of the morning. During my morning run, it's usually just me and the occasional nocturnal creature I see and stear clear of.
Shortly after I started off on my normal 4.5 mile run this morning, I noticed that I was having to take many more walk breaks than usual. I thought about what could be causing my fatigue, and realized that the stress and anxiety I'd been feeling had negatively affected my sleep and was probably the cause . "No big deal", I thought. Four and a half miles is a long way and I often feel a little drained mid-run. So, just like I do anytime I feel a bit tired on a run, I started the pep talking. I told myself "suck it up, buttercup", followed by my usual, "come on, you've done this a million times. You know you can get through it. Just stay on course." At that moment, I felt God gently but firmly saying to me, "Come on, WE'VE done this a million times. Just trust me. I have ALWAYS carried you through. Just stay on course." And, I instantly knew, He was not talking about my morning run. God was speaking directly to me about my situation.
I immediately realized that I was anxious and scatter-brained because I was allowing myself to get distracted and off course. I was taking detour after detour down Worry Lane, which leads me to Anxiety Drive, and straight to a dead end in the middle of nowhere.
In my situation, I simply was not trusting God. And, why not? Have I forgotten all of the things he has brought me through in my life? I have been left, abandoned, and forsaken by people, but NEVER by God. I know this to be true because there have been times in my life when I have had no other choice than to trust that God would rescue me, and He always has. Despite the tragedy and hardships I have faced throughout my life, I have turned out pretty sane and level headed, and full of faith in the God who has seen me through all of it. So, why now, am I lacking in trust? I can blame it on my human nature to try to figure out how God is going to work out a situation, or how I can just work it out, so I don't have to depend on Him to do it for me. Or, I can blame it on my "trust issues". That would be completely popular and acceptable. Whatever the excuse I could have chosen to use, I knew in my heart and mind that I was wrong to not trust Him. 'Nuff said.
So, here I am in the middle of my run, tears welling in my eyes, thinking that it's really ridiculous how emotional I get sometimes when I run...but, also realizing that I simply cannot allow myself to be overtaken by JUNK like fear and anxiety.
I knew then that I was going to have to do a few things. First, I owed God an apology, which I wasted no time in giving. (We're cool now, by the way). Secondly, I was going to have to step back and recognize when fear was creeping up on me, and refuse to surrender to it. Besides, anyone who knows me knows that fear is just not me. I have never feared much, and I refuse to start now.
By this time, I was near the end of my run, and feeling so much less stressed, and a whole lot more level headed. I could think straight, without worry and anxiety clouding my every thought. Yes! I remembered this peaceful feeling. This is the feeling of sitting back, and realizing I am not the driver here, not even a backseat one. I need simply to trust the One who is.
For the last tenth of a mile, I started to feel full of energy again, full of "fight", realizing that I am strong and that as II Timothy 1:7 says, I have not been given a spirit of fear, but one of POWER... and a SOUND MIND. I looked down, and my feet were pounding the pavement hard, and my legs were racing underneath me. Now, I felt like myself again- the fearless, full of faith me that I knew that I was! That me is a whole heck of a lot better than fearful, worried me. Fearless me is actually pretty Awesome! ;)
Saturday, December 4, 2010
An Honor and a Half
A few weeks ago, I packed up and traveled with my running group to San Antonio to run the Rock and Roll half Marathon. I just knew I would SMOKE last year's half marathon time, and I couldn't wait. My feet were itching to get out there and do something spectacular. The trouble was, they were also itching to walk the San Antonio riverwalk and the huge race expo the day before.
The morning of the race, it was COLD, and we had to wait over an hour to begin running, due to an unscheduled train crossing the race course. I spent that hour jittery from the coffee I had downed, and shivering from the cold. By the time I began running, I was already a little worn down.
So, there it is, my list of excuses. These excuses relentlessly coursed through my thoughts for the first six miles.
HOWEVER, around mile 7, I passed an older man wearing a shirt that said something about Parkinson's disease. What initially caught my attention, though, was his unusual "stride". He looked to be in his 60's, and ran with short, shuffling steps. He was actually barely moving forward at all. As I came up beside him, I noticed his neck was cocked a bit to the side, and he was drooling. But, he had a look of stellar focus and determination on his face. I teared up, realizing what kind of effort it took for him to take thousands of those shuffling steps all the way to the finish line, which was still 7 miles ahead of us. I wanted to say something, but couldn't find words, nor could I have gotten them over the lump in my throat and out of my mouth.
Around mile 8, I passed a younger man, who looked to have cerebral palsy. He shuffled along, with a lop-sided sort of skip, with the same look I had seen a mile back, eyes on the finish, ignoring everything around him. A few moments later, I passed a man in his mid 50's who was more than half way through this challenging race, WITH A WALKER!
I was incredibly inspired. Inspired enough to push on- through sheer exhaustion, three miles of leg cramps, and a much needed stop at a dirty porta potty. I kept going, feeling completely honored to run alongside these strong, brave, determined people. I thought of what it took for them to get here. The stares they must get on their training runs, maybe even a few laughs and mocking from teenagers passing by. Who was I to feel sorry for myself or make excuses?
I really expected to shave 15 or so minutes from my half marathon time, and did end up beating my time from last year by 6 minutes. I was a bit disappointed, but I felt extremely fortunate to even participate. Seeing the determination of those runners made an impact on me, and I have to honestly say that I am truly grateful to have witnessed their accomplishment. I only hope that I can make this kind of impact on those around me!
The morning of the race, it was COLD, and we had to wait over an hour to begin running, due to an unscheduled train crossing the race course. I spent that hour jittery from the coffee I had downed, and shivering from the cold. By the time I began running, I was already a little worn down.
So, there it is, my list of excuses. These excuses relentlessly coursed through my thoughts for the first six miles.
HOWEVER, around mile 7, I passed an older man wearing a shirt that said something about Parkinson's disease. What initially caught my attention, though, was his unusual "stride". He looked to be in his 60's, and ran with short, shuffling steps. He was actually barely moving forward at all. As I came up beside him, I noticed his neck was cocked a bit to the side, and he was drooling. But, he had a look of stellar focus and determination on his face. I teared up, realizing what kind of effort it took for him to take thousands of those shuffling steps all the way to the finish line, which was still 7 miles ahead of us. I wanted to say something, but couldn't find words, nor could I have gotten them over the lump in my throat and out of my mouth.
Around mile 8, I passed a younger man, who looked to have cerebral palsy. He shuffled along, with a lop-sided sort of skip, with the same look I had seen a mile back, eyes on the finish, ignoring everything around him. A few moments later, I passed a man in his mid 50's who was more than half way through this challenging race, WITH A WALKER!
I was incredibly inspired. Inspired enough to push on- through sheer exhaustion, three miles of leg cramps, and a much needed stop at a dirty porta potty. I kept going, feeling completely honored to run alongside these strong, brave, determined people. I thought of what it took for them to get here. The stares they must get on their training runs, maybe even a few laughs and mocking from teenagers passing by. Who was I to feel sorry for myself or make excuses?
I really expected to shave 15 or so minutes from my half marathon time, and did end up beating my time from last year by 6 minutes. I was a bit disappointed, but I felt extremely fortunate to even participate. Seeing the determination of those runners made an impact on me, and I have to honestly say that I am truly grateful to have witnessed their accomplishment. I only hope that I can make this kind of impact on those around me!
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Ten Glorious miles
Last weekend, I completed only my third 10 plus mile run in my life. I still had the lasting impression of last year's ten mile run just before my first half marathon. Both were terrible experiences, during which I wished myself dead rather than finish the last mile. My body ached, my hips felt like they might possibly rip completely apart like a wishbone from a thanksgiving turkey, and everything from my knees down had been numb for the last few miles. I anticipated the same kind of experience this time, so I took my time getting started. I "worked the crowd", meandering around making small talk with people, and taking an extra long time stretching. I sort of felt like the older gentleman at my gym, who spends more time stretching ON TOP of the treadmill (which baffles me-aren't there better places to stretch???), than actually using it. All the while, he is wearing his college track team shirt, shorts that are shorter than I would dare to wear, and tall stripy knee socks. For fear of turning into Mr. Elderly track star, I bit the bullet and got started.
I had a plan this time, though. I would take intermittent walk breaks every half mile or so for one minute at a time, and run it slow and steady. I would suck down sport gels in strategic intervals, so that I could keep my electrolytes replenished, and no matter what, I would NOT give in to the "you're weak and frail, and shouldn't even attempt this" thoughts.
I began with my mp3 player on, but oddly, only the Christian music station on Pandora was getting a signal. Fine enough, I could do this without the Black Eyed Peas and Eminem this time...I hoped. But, as I ran and listened to songs with lyrics reminding me of the power and faithfulness of God, I was energized. I ran right through my first three planned walk breaks, and made myself take the next one, feeling as if I was actually holding back. Odd for me, since I normally have to repeatedly remind myself that I am not going to die from lack of oxygen as I clop down the road like a clydesdale, huffing, puffing, and gasping all the way. I actually felt light and full of bounce.
I made it to the 5 mile point, and turned back, stopping to stretch and refill my water bottle. I was asked by someone how I was doing, which made me realize I was actually feeling fantastic. This was turning out to be the best run I had ever completed.
I decided to turn off my mp3 player and listen to the silence. (Silence is rare for my ears, since I have two active, boisterous kiddos under 5, but I thought maybe I should remind my ears of this long forgotten elusive thing called silence ). It was nice, just hearing my footsteps for the next couple of miles.
My goal had been 2 hours and 15 minutes, which would be a stretch for me, since I knew this same distance had taken me almost three hours last year. Beyond that, there was a likely chance that I had put my muscles through so much with all of this running over the last year that they had broken down and been unable to rebuild. Still, I refused to believe that, and set my goal at 2 hours, 15 minutes...firm....sort of. I had a backup goal of 2 hours, 20 minutes, in case I needed it, and then I could still say I met my goal. Goofy, I know.
As I realized that I was now in the last mile of the ten, I looked down at my watch to see that less than 2 hours had passed. I checked again, assuming I had read it incorrectly. There was no way I was going to beat my goal by that much! I looked down again a few minutes later. 2 hours, 5 minutes. What? If I had gotten this much faster, that had to mean that I had gained muscle in my body, and lots of it. I knew that my body had changed throughout the last year, and even firmed up significantly, but I also knew what medical professionals tell me is likely to happen.
Approaching the stoplight that marked the completion of my tenth mile, I began to cry. Huff, puff, step, cry, whisper, "thank you, God", repeat. That is what it sounded like for the last block of my run. I stopped at the corner, lifted my arm and grunted a "Yes!", not even caring that cars were actually stopped at the light, watching me. Tears were coming down my face, and I didn't mind that they thought I had lost my marbles. I was just understanding what was happening in my body- the result of God's miraculous work. My persistence and unwillingness to accept that my muscles will waste away had paid off, and here was my proof.
2 hours, and 7 minutes is what it took for me to complete that ten mile run, and the extraordinary thing is that I did NOT feel like I had been hit by a truck this time. In fact, I went home, walked in the door, and played with my kids the rest of the day. I felt completely bad to the bone! I had come so far in the last year, and am still overwhelmed with gratitude for the miraculous steps of progress I see in my body everyday. This is all quite improbable, except that I believe in the One who makes the improbable Probable!
I had a plan this time, though. I would take intermittent walk breaks every half mile or so for one minute at a time, and run it slow and steady. I would suck down sport gels in strategic intervals, so that I could keep my electrolytes replenished, and no matter what, I would NOT give in to the "you're weak and frail, and shouldn't even attempt this" thoughts.
I began with my mp3 player on, but oddly, only the Christian music station on Pandora was getting a signal. Fine enough, I could do this without the Black Eyed Peas and Eminem this time...I hoped. But, as I ran and listened to songs with lyrics reminding me of the power and faithfulness of God, I was energized. I ran right through my first three planned walk breaks, and made myself take the next one, feeling as if I was actually holding back. Odd for me, since I normally have to repeatedly remind myself that I am not going to die from lack of oxygen as I clop down the road like a clydesdale, huffing, puffing, and gasping all the way. I actually felt light and full of bounce.
I made it to the 5 mile point, and turned back, stopping to stretch and refill my water bottle. I was asked by someone how I was doing, which made me realize I was actually feeling fantastic. This was turning out to be the best run I had ever completed.
I decided to turn off my mp3 player and listen to the silence. (Silence is rare for my ears, since I have two active, boisterous kiddos under 5, but I thought maybe I should remind my ears of this long forgotten elusive thing called silence ). It was nice, just hearing my footsteps for the next couple of miles.
My goal had been 2 hours and 15 minutes, which would be a stretch for me, since I knew this same distance had taken me almost three hours last year. Beyond that, there was a likely chance that I had put my muscles through so much with all of this running over the last year that they had broken down and been unable to rebuild. Still, I refused to believe that, and set my goal at 2 hours, 15 minutes...firm....sort of. I had a backup goal of 2 hours, 20 minutes, in case I needed it, and then I could still say I met my goal. Goofy, I know.
As I realized that I was now in the last mile of the ten, I looked down at my watch to see that less than 2 hours had passed. I checked again, assuming I had read it incorrectly. There was no way I was going to beat my goal by that much! I looked down again a few minutes later. 2 hours, 5 minutes. What? If I had gotten this much faster, that had to mean that I had gained muscle in my body, and lots of it. I knew that my body had changed throughout the last year, and even firmed up significantly, but I also knew what medical professionals tell me is likely to happen.
Approaching the stoplight that marked the completion of my tenth mile, I began to cry. Huff, puff, step, cry, whisper, "thank you, God", repeat. That is what it sounded like for the last block of my run. I stopped at the corner, lifted my arm and grunted a "Yes!", not even caring that cars were actually stopped at the light, watching me. Tears were coming down my face, and I didn't mind that they thought I had lost my marbles. I was just understanding what was happening in my body- the result of God's miraculous work. My persistence and unwillingness to accept that my muscles will waste away had paid off, and here was my proof.
2 hours, and 7 minutes is what it took for me to complete that ten mile run, and the extraordinary thing is that I did NOT feel like I had been hit by a truck this time. In fact, I went home, walked in the door, and played with my kids the rest of the day. I felt completely bad to the bone! I had come so far in the last year, and am still overwhelmed with gratitude for the miraculous steps of progress I see in my body everyday. This is all quite improbable, except that I believe in the One who makes the improbable Probable!
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Running + Me = ?
I have been reading the book Born to Run by Christopher McDougall. It was recommended to me by someone else as a "runner's must-read". The author basically documents his true story of seeking out a hidden Mexican Indian tribe, which resides deep in the Sierra Madre mountains, and are known as "The Running People". These people are amazing. They can run faster and further than pretty much anyone on the planet, for hundreds of miles. But, the most notable thing about them is their attitude. Throughout their history, they have run out of necessity, but done so with an amazingly joyful attitude. They actually love to run. There are others like them- a Czech olympian in the 1950's, African tribesmen, modern day ultra runners... but they are few and far between. They seem to defy the rules and run to beat of their own drums. They don't use energy bars, slurp down Gu midrun (I have been known to call this sport gel my runner's crack), or "carb up" the night before a race. Most of these unusually strong runners don't even wear fancy biomechanically efficient running shoes. Heck, some don't wear shoes at all! And, they all simply run because they love to.
Since my attitude adjustment (see my last blog), the pursuit of this love for running intrigued me. I obviously like it, since I continue to do it, but I'm not sure I would call my relationship with running one filled with love. So, how do I feel about it?
I set out this morning to answer this question for myself. I was already going to meet my running group for a 5:30 AM run, so what better day to learn about runnin lovin than today? I knew I would need to run undistracted, so I decided to "run naked". No- I did not streak my way through Conroe. That would just be plain wierd, and quite repulsive to onlookers. This is a phrase runners use to describe running without a watch, or ipod, or the things we depend on so that we think of anything other than our burning thighs or screaming lungs. I just wanted to smell the morning air, feel the wind in my face, and let my legs take me as far as they were willing.
Turns out, no matter how hard I tried to smell, I could not smell the wind. I concluded that this is a rather dumb expression. Chances are, if there is something to smell in the wind, you are down wind from something reeking, and you would probably rather be up wind. Secondly, there was no wind in my face and My hair was not triumphantly blowing at my back. The Houston area is not known for it's windy days. I guess while I am being candid, here's where I should confess that I did even give in to the ipod temptation. I had to bring my cell just in case of emergnecy, and that happens to be what I use as my mp3 player. My little earbud was begging to jump into my warm and cozy ear, so I figured putting just one in really was not going to hurt...So much for the amazingly poetic run I had managed to conjure up in my mind. I was running and rockin' to Maroon 5 and The Black Eyed Peas most of the time.
So, I didn't exactly run "naked" (all of Conroe, TX should take a HUGE sigh of relief here). But, I actually did realize that I strongly like running. If I were in fifth grade, and running sent me a note asking, "Do you love me? check one: a) I love you, b) I strongly like you, or c) you digust me", I would choose b. Running and I are not to the "I love you" point in our relationship. But, I did strongly like this morning's run. Without my watch to use as a crutch, I was able to push myself a little more. Besides, I kept thinking if those indian dudes can run hundreds of miles, I can run five. They are just human too.
At the end of the run, I realized I took far fewer and shorter walk breaks. I felt like I had done something I really strongly liked to do, and more than anything, I was so thankful for how far I've come. My five mile run this morning was actually one of the shorter runs I will do this week. I am so grateful to have legs that can do THAT. Running and I are quickly approaching the "I love you" mark.
Since my attitude adjustment (see my last blog), the pursuit of this love for running intrigued me. I obviously like it, since I continue to do it, but I'm not sure I would call my relationship with running one filled with love. So, how do I feel about it?
I set out this morning to answer this question for myself. I was already going to meet my running group for a 5:30 AM run, so what better day to learn about runnin lovin than today? I knew I would need to run undistracted, so I decided to "run naked". No- I did not streak my way through Conroe. That would just be plain wierd, and quite repulsive to onlookers. This is a phrase runners use to describe running without a watch, or ipod, or the things we depend on so that we think of anything other than our burning thighs or screaming lungs. I just wanted to smell the morning air, feel the wind in my face, and let my legs take me as far as they were willing.
Turns out, no matter how hard I tried to smell, I could not smell the wind. I concluded that this is a rather dumb expression. Chances are, if there is something to smell in the wind, you are down wind from something reeking, and you would probably rather be up wind. Secondly, there was no wind in my face and My hair was not triumphantly blowing at my back. The Houston area is not known for it's windy days. I guess while I am being candid, here's where I should confess that I did even give in to the ipod temptation. I had to bring my cell just in case of emergnecy, and that happens to be what I use as my mp3 player. My little earbud was begging to jump into my warm and cozy ear, so I figured putting just one in really was not going to hurt...So much for the amazingly poetic run I had managed to conjure up in my mind. I was running and rockin' to Maroon 5 and The Black Eyed Peas most of the time.
So, I didn't exactly run "naked" (all of Conroe, TX should take a HUGE sigh of relief here). But, I actually did realize that I strongly like running. If I were in fifth grade, and running sent me a note asking, "Do you love me? check one: a) I love you, b) I strongly like you, or c) you digust me", I would choose b. Running and I are not to the "I love you" point in our relationship. But, I did strongly like this morning's run. Without my watch to use as a crutch, I was able to push myself a little more. Besides, I kept thinking if those indian dudes can run hundreds of miles, I can run five. They are just human too.
At the end of the run, I realized I took far fewer and shorter walk breaks. I felt like I had done something I really strongly liked to do, and more than anything, I was so thankful for how far I've come. My five mile run this morning was actually one of the shorter runs I will do this week. I am so grateful to have legs that can do THAT. Running and I are quickly approaching the "I love you" mark.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Adventures in Austin
Months ago, I signed up with some friends to be on an adventure racing team. It promised to be a thrilling and wild race, sending us on a tour of the city via foot, bike, or kayak. We would all travel to Austin for the race, and experience the adventure together. My hope was that it would be somewhat like The Amazing Race on TV, but without the fighting, cursing, and sobbing. The other major difference would be that we would not leave the city limits of Austin, Texas.
It seemed like so much fun, and I even roped my husband in to joining the team, despite the fact that he had not done any physical activity in months. In fact, his last "long distance run" was a mile run he completed in high school, 15 years ago. (I knew I was encouraging him to bite off way more than he could chew, but I didn't want him to miss out on the adventure part of the race).
So, last weekend, we all packed our bikes, running shoes, Gu packets and Cliff bars, and headed to Austin. We weren't there to win the race. We were there because we could be... Of the six people on my team, four of us were overweight, out of shape, and just beginning our fitness journey at this time last year. We all knew that one year ago, this was something that none of us could have accomplished. Between the 4 of us, we had lost almost 200 pounds in the last year and we would be excited to just complete all legs of the race within the time constraints.
Race day came, and we laughed (mostly at my good natured husband for his lack of preparation) and we sweated (A LOT). My team ran, biked, rowed, paddle-boarded standing up, located land marks, played beer pong (this was an ACTUAL event in the race), tossed large frozen fish (again, a real event), and one of us scaled a natural rock wall. We biked many of Austin's hills, which I could swear were uphill BOTH WAYS. We searched for hidden clues all around town, each one leading us to our next destination. It really was a wild ride.
On the sixth and last of the race legs, I was filled with gratitude that I was actually able to accomplish something that just last year was so far out of my realm of possibility. That last run back to the finish line was absolutely exhilarating. Looking out over Austin's Lady Bird Lake, I was filled with gratitude. It struck me that there are millions of people with disabilities that are a whole lot worse than mine. Most of them would probably give anything to have the ability to do what I was doing right then.
I have heard so many runners actually complain about "having to do" hill training days or mile repeats. And I admit that, at times, I have been guilty of complaining about not making a certain time goal on a run, or that my legs were tired and achey after a long eight mile run. However, it struck me at that moment that I should be incredibly grateful that I am ABLE to run at all. I have made a decision to try to clean up my attitude. No more complaining about my slow pace, or hard runs. The bible says that every good thing comes from God, and running has definitely been a good thing in my life. It has enabled me to learn so much about myself, and put things in perspective. I will choose to be thankful for every morning run that I am able to complete, no matter how early, or cold or hot or (insert miserable condition here) it is. I will thank God for every mile I am able to run, simply because I can run.
On the way home from our trip, I texted a family member about how utterly exhausted I was after the 8 or so miles of running, and miles and miles of uphill cycling. In good fun, she texted back and said that she isn't sure why I would ever CHOOSE to do that. My response? "Cuz I can", and for that, I truly am inexplicably grateful. I will strive to NEVER take that for granted. Hopefully, this newfound attitude spills over into the rest of my life too.
It seemed like so much fun, and I even roped my husband in to joining the team, despite the fact that he had not done any physical activity in months. In fact, his last "long distance run" was a mile run he completed in high school, 15 years ago. (I knew I was encouraging him to bite off way more than he could chew, but I didn't want him to miss out on the adventure part of the race).
So, last weekend, we all packed our bikes, running shoes, Gu packets and Cliff bars, and headed to Austin. We weren't there to win the race. We were there because we could be... Of the six people on my team, four of us were overweight, out of shape, and just beginning our fitness journey at this time last year. We all knew that one year ago, this was something that none of us could have accomplished. Between the 4 of us, we had lost almost 200 pounds in the last year and we would be excited to just complete all legs of the race within the time constraints.
Race day came, and we laughed (mostly at my good natured husband for his lack of preparation) and we sweated (A LOT). My team ran, biked, rowed, paddle-boarded standing up, located land marks, played beer pong (this was an ACTUAL event in the race), tossed large frozen fish (again, a real event), and one of us scaled a natural rock wall. We biked many of Austin's hills, which I could swear were uphill BOTH WAYS. We searched for hidden clues all around town, each one leading us to our next destination. It really was a wild ride.
On the sixth and last of the race legs, I was filled with gratitude that I was actually able to accomplish something that just last year was so far out of my realm of possibility. That last run back to the finish line was absolutely exhilarating. Looking out over Austin's Lady Bird Lake, I was filled with gratitude. It struck me that there are millions of people with disabilities that are a whole lot worse than mine. Most of them would probably give anything to have the ability to do what I was doing right then.
I have heard so many runners actually complain about "having to do" hill training days or mile repeats. And I admit that, at times, I have been guilty of complaining about not making a certain time goal on a run, or that my legs were tired and achey after a long eight mile run. However, it struck me at that moment that I should be incredibly grateful that I am ABLE to run at all. I have made a decision to try to clean up my attitude. No more complaining about my slow pace, or hard runs. The bible says that every good thing comes from God, and running has definitely been a good thing in my life. It has enabled me to learn so much about myself, and put things in perspective. I will choose to be thankful for every morning run that I am able to complete, no matter how early, or cold or hot or (insert miserable condition here) it is. I will thank God for every mile I am able to run, simply because I can run.
On the way home from our trip, I texted a family member about how utterly exhausted I was after the 8 or so miles of running, and miles and miles of uphill cycling. In good fun, she texted back and said that she isn't sure why I would ever CHOOSE to do that. My response? "Cuz I can", and for that, I truly am inexplicably grateful. I will strive to NEVER take that for granted. Hopefully, this newfound attitude spills over into the rest of my life too.
Monday, October 11, 2010
The sock race
My four year old daughter and I attended a birthday party for one of her school friends last weekend. At one point, the rink staff cleared the rink and allowed the skaters to participate in races. In an effort to prevent a pile-up of 4 to 6 year-olds on wheels, this youngest age group was instead encouraged to participate in a "sock" race. Same concept, minus the four wheeled weapons, which could easily cause a concussion. One lap around the rink, first one to the finish wins. My daughter wanted to participate and I rooted her on, secretly doubting that she would actually follow through. Most of the kids out there were boys, and they were all older than her, with the exception of one.
So, the teenage race leader blew the whistle and they were off. I truly expected my little one to quit before she got half way around, as she is very prissy, hates to be hot and sweaty, and generally shuns exerting herself. However, to my utter surprise, she ran like the wind. Her long skinny legs kicking smoothly back and forth in perfect form, her arms pumping her all the way to the finish line in the middle of the pack. She had given it her all, and she was thrilled to just finish. She bounded up to me, shouting, "Did I win the race like you do, mommy?".
Now, I didn't have the heart to tell her that she didn't win and that though her mommy is an avid runner, she has NEVER won a race in her life. Not even close...not even semi-close. I have, in fact, come very close to winning last place in a race. (The 70 year old power walker stole that title from me just barely.) Nevertheless, I didn't think my little girl would understand the purpose of running a race, knowing that you won't actually win it, and I certainly didn't want her to feel the least bit discouraged to try something out of her element in the future. So, I looked her right in the big innocent blue eyes and told a bold- faced lie. "Yep, just like mommy".
The fact is that conventional medical "wisdom" tells me that I should not be exerting myself. I should not require my muscles to work so hard that they get fatigued and torn. As a muscular dystrophy patient, I should just be sitting back, watching my body deteriorate, my muscles wasting slowly. I should see the writing on the wall and not even bother with running or any other endurance activity. I should join the senior citizen's water aerobics class and sport a flowery swim cap, letting my feet softly bounce along the floor of the pool, and call it water jogging.
Why, oh WHY do I even bother with running races? I guess all runners do it for differing reasons. For me, it's this: each time I cross a finish line, I want to scream, "see what God gives me the strength to do, despite the fact that it doesn't make sense?!" I do it because I actually enjoy the physical challenge and mostly because it increases my faith. I grow each time I cross a finish line. That's probably the answer I should have given. The wisdom filled, "No, honey, you didn't win first place, but you are a winner just because you tried your best. It's all about personal growth." Or not. That would have been pretty tough to explain too.
My point is this: In running and in life, don't fail to run the race just because the odds are against you or because you think you may not win. Mathematical odds tell you that it's not likely anyway, since there can only be ONE winner. But, growth is a result of just running in the race. You finish one and realize you really can do, and really LONG to do another...and another...and another. Before long, you begin to believe that you really can do ALL things through Christ, who strengthens you, simply because you weren't afraid to get out there and try.
So, the teenage race leader blew the whistle and they were off. I truly expected my little one to quit before she got half way around, as she is very prissy, hates to be hot and sweaty, and generally shuns exerting herself. However, to my utter surprise, she ran like the wind. Her long skinny legs kicking smoothly back and forth in perfect form, her arms pumping her all the way to the finish line in the middle of the pack. She had given it her all, and she was thrilled to just finish. She bounded up to me, shouting, "Did I win the race like you do, mommy?".
Now, I didn't have the heart to tell her that she didn't win and that though her mommy is an avid runner, she has NEVER won a race in her life. Not even close...not even semi-close. I have, in fact, come very close to winning last place in a race. (The 70 year old power walker stole that title from me just barely.) Nevertheless, I didn't think my little girl would understand the purpose of running a race, knowing that you won't actually win it, and I certainly didn't want her to feel the least bit discouraged to try something out of her element in the future. So, I looked her right in the big innocent blue eyes and told a bold- faced lie. "Yep, just like mommy".
The fact is that conventional medical "wisdom" tells me that I should not be exerting myself. I should not require my muscles to work so hard that they get fatigued and torn. As a muscular dystrophy patient, I should just be sitting back, watching my body deteriorate, my muscles wasting slowly. I should see the writing on the wall and not even bother with running or any other endurance activity. I should join the senior citizen's water aerobics class and sport a flowery swim cap, letting my feet softly bounce along the floor of the pool, and call it water jogging.
Why, oh WHY do I even bother with running races? I guess all runners do it for differing reasons. For me, it's this: each time I cross a finish line, I want to scream, "see what God gives me the strength to do, despite the fact that it doesn't make sense?!" I do it because I actually enjoy the physical challenge and mostly because it increases my faith. I grow each time I cross a finish line. That's probably the answer I should have given. The wisdom filled, "No, honey, you didn't win first place, but you are a winner just because you tried your best. It's all about personal growth." Or not. That would have been pretty tough to explain too.
My point is this: In running and in life, don't fail to run the race just because the odds are against you or because you think you may not win. Mathematical odds tell you that it's not likely anyway, since there can only be ONE winner. But, growth is a result of just running in the race. You finish one and realize you really can do, and really LONG to do another...and another...and another. Before long, you begin to believe that you really can do ALL things through Christ, who strengthens you, simply because you weren't afraid to get out there and try.
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