Destination: Life!

Can I Say Easy Yet?

Today, I ran four miles on Sunset Dr., a route I found and loved a couple of weeks ago. With the exception of the very beginning hill, I found the first three miles  - oh lord, can i say it? 
e - a -  s  - y.   

Let me try again.

It was e    ea   eas   eas    y.

Whew. OK. This is hard. Deep breath.

Those three miles were easy.

There. I said it.

And I can't believe it. I was very surprised at how little pain I was in during most of this run. My experience so far with this crazy running thing is that most of the time, the WHOLE RUN is tough - often excruciating. The difficulty here was only in the last mile. The other three were mainly OK. Downright good. Dare I say it again? Easy!

Amazing.

I wonder why I am so resistant to saying it was easy.

I think it is because I fear that people who are supporting me in this journey will not take the difficulty of this journey seriously if I say it is easy.

I think I don't want to feel alone when I am out there and it is hard, fearing that my supporters will think this is now easy for me and pull away, thinking it's no big deal.

I think my soul wonders...if it is too easy, is it worth doing?

This is silly thinking, of course. There is nothing easy about running 3-4 times a week, without fail, in the heat, toward a race of 13.1 miles. There is nothing easy about being committed to the activities outside of running that are necessary to fully train for this race. There is nothing easy about working toward a goal, knowing that the only way to get there is to keep pressing forward. There are no easy fixes here. Each mile must be run, one slow mile after the other.

What I find interesting is how my fear plays out. Because of fear, admitting the truth ("this was easy") becomes difficult. It makes me wonder where else in my life I am not admitting truth because I fear it to be too difficult. Quick examples come to mind. I fear admitting some truth about my failings as a wife, as a friend, as a daughter. I fear admitting discontent, selfishness, anger. Why? We all know none of us is perfect. So what is it we fear about admitting some truths? I'd truly love to hear your opinions on the matter, in the comments of this post or to my email.

Overcoming fear and admitting that three of my miles were actually easy is not going to radically change my life. But fear is a powerful emotion and motivator (or demotivator). It can be protective, debilitating, and/or destructive. I want to take the "little insight" gained today about admitting fear and ponder where it may be applied to areas of my life where fear has a deeper impact. Therein lies the hope for the truth setting my soul free.

~~~Thoughts~~~

In what small ways does fear hold you back from admitting truth? (What are your "easy three miles"?)
Can the answer to that be a catalyst to begin a journey to understand the bigger ways fear holds you back?
How can you be set free? 

Until next time, may you love your life today.

The Rhododendron Race

Bakersville, NC. Home of the Rhododendron Festival, and the Rhododendron 10K run. My husband and I spent last Saturday driving on the curviest road in America (yes, rivaling the Road to Hana) to arrive in Bakersville to run this road race. Bakersville has a population of 351. I did not know this when I signed us up for the race. And as Kirk and I experienced the small (i.e., teeny tiny), mountain, southern town, we realized, "We're not in Asheville anymore." It really was a sweet little race, complete with the nicest people ever, a word from the mayor, and a pre-race prayer from the local pastor. I smiled the whole time at this experience of small town America. Southern America. 

My goal was to finish the race without walking. Several weeks ago, I had set a time goal, but since then, I learned that when you are a beginning runner, time goals can be very demotivating. The advice is to have your goal to be to just FINISH the race. So, that is my goal for September's half marathon and will be my goal if I attempt a marathon. To simply finish. I am guessing there is nothing simple about that.

Advice I have read also states that not walking should also NOT be a goal. That doesn't make a lot of sense to me in a running race, but after this 10K, I think I get it.

You see, to not walk means you have to run the whole time. (See how brilliant I am?) When you force yourself to run the whole time as a new runner, you set yourself up for a potentially miserable experience. Too many miserable experiences will likely lead to stopping running. I wrote about this reality when a series of particularly miserable runs had me wondering what the hell I thought I was doing thinking I could run 13.1 miles, let alone that marathon I was considering.

For some reason, I felt I had to run this race without stopping. After all, I had run 9.3 miles without stopping one month ago. In hindsight, that day was rainy, cool, and with low humidity. Perfect for running. Saturday's race was sunny, hot, and humid. Not ideal for running. As I ran, I fought the incredible urge to stop, to walk, just for a minute. I desperately wanted relief, even if just for sixty seconds. I did not allow myself this. Instead, I forced myself to meet my goal, and I finished the race without walking. Yeah me, right? 

Not so much. I was surprisingly disappointed. Not with my race performance - I still was glad I had finished. However, I was disappointed in the part of me that, during miles three and four, was trying to talk me into stopping all of this foolishness. The training, the running, the nutrition, the strength training, the blog, all of it.

It was a major red flag.

For the first time in a long time, this blog and the running goal attached to it has given me a sense of purpose. It has given me the opportunity to set and meet goals, and to experience the thrill of accomplishment. I have also heard from many of you how this blog has impacted you. I don't want to lose any of that. If I set unrealistic goals for myself, I risk losing that. 

So, I have a new strategy. It's time to live into my goal, while at the same time adding more realism to it. It is ok to walk. I repeat. It is ok to walk. My new mantra: IT IS OK TO WALK! And if anybody wants to tell me I didn't really "run" the half marathon, marathon, 10K, or any random day training run, I will tell myself I don't care. No comparisons. I am running.

The very next run after this race was full of walking. I followed Jeff Galloway's Run-Walk-Run method which had me run three minutes, then walk one minute. I did this for 3 miles, 32 minutes total. I arrogantly thought it would be easy. Ha! Easier, for sure, but it was still challenging. Challenging. Not "oh my god I want to kill myself" hard. AND - get this: My total time for those three miles was NOT slower than when I don't walk. Ha! Take that!

I think I'll be able to hang in there with the lesson learned in Bakersville, NC, population 351.

~~~Thoughts~~~

What goals have you set for yourself?
Do you see any red flags that would burn you out?
Are you allowing yourself to walk as you run toward your goals?

Until next time, may you love your life today.

 

Getting Ready...

Tomorrow is the Rhododendron 10K in Bakersville, NC. It is my first "race" (and boy do I use that term loosely) since the St. Patrick's Day 5K my husband and I ran in March.

I have heard that running in a race provides a different experience of the mental game. I have run at least three times a week since February (well, except my "rest" week after the made-up 15K). Each run has been an adventure in mind games and learning about my mental stamina. I anticipate tomorrow being a different kind of adventure, so it will be interesting to see how a race feels now that I have more experience (again, a term I use loosely) just pounding out the runs on my own.

I am looking forward to having the community-feelin'-mile-markin'-water-drinkin'-free-snack-gettin'-official-time-keepin'-bib-wearin' race experience!

By the time the race starts tomorrow, I will have taken nearly three full days off from running. This was done in the hopes my body will be rested, healed and ready to carry me through all 6.2 miles without walking. (I can count on one hand the number of times I have run without a walk break. Even my last "easy" two mile run had one minute of walking.)

So we will see.

Wish me luck. :)

Sunset Drive

Remember when I complained that all my runs were hard? To refresh your memory, here's a quote from a couple of weeks ago: 

"Lately, there has been very little success in the endurance. I've struggled and huffed and walked and laid on grass and sat on rocks and felt like passing out. And this scares me. If I don't start enjoying these runs (well, let's be more reasonable and say that if they at least don't stop being hell!) there is no way I can continue. There are way too many runs (57 runs for 262 miles) between now and the half marathon for me to be hating and struggling with so many runs. I'm a little scared." (From "I'm Just Angry")

Since I wrote that, most of my runs have indeed been difficult. Not the hell that the above run was, but not as enjoyable as I would hope. Each has been quite challenging. Each has pushed me to the edge of what I think I can do. Each has made me question why I am doing this. The idea of a gentle jog down the road, taking in all of the scenery, and truly enjoying my life while out there just hasn't been happening.

Until last Sunday.

I mean, look at the road I ran on:

 

Is that not just precious? This is a section of Sunset Drive, a road the rises above Asheville, giving the fortunates who can afford a home there access to this view:

My husband and I mapped a 6.5 mile route. Four of those miles were along this beautiful road. Curve after curve, hill after hill, I found myself actually enjoying the run! It was so beautiful. It was a quiet and shady road that filled me with a sense of peace. I ran for four solid miles without hating it. That does not mean it was easy. My legs still got tired, my lungs still let me know they were there. But my mind was in such a peaceful state, that I was able to easily tolerate the complaints of my body. It was an amazing feeling.

Now, at about mile four something began to happen. I had not been feeling well for a couple of days, and during the run I had a distinct feeling of stomach distress. I thought I'd be ok until the end of the run, 2.5 more miles.

I thought.

You know that feeling when your body says, "Bathroom. Now. As in RIGHT NOW!"? That's what my body said.

I reluctantly stopped at a local bakery, sweat pouring off of me, and tried to sneak my way into the bathroom, lest the man behind the counter tell me the restroom was for customers only. Luckily for my guts no one else was in the bathroom.

I'm so glad I stopped.
Let's just leave it at that. :)

I did try to sneak out, but was caught by the eye contact of the man behind the counter. I smiled sweetly and said, "We're on a run, but we'll be back." He looked at me funny. Hmm. Maybe he didn't really care why I was there. But we did go back.

My poor husband ran an extra mile waiting for me but not wanting to stop his run. Do they give husband metals? When I resumed my run, I was not well. Stomach cramps, lightheadedness and nausea. Because of this, I only ran another mile of the remaining 2.5. I have learned how to run through various annoyances and pains, but I have not yet learned how to run through being sick. Nor do I know if I ever want to learn that "skill!"


What was most amazing to me about this run was how I felt about not finishing. I had set a goal. I was to run 6.5 miles. Since I started running in February there have only been two runs that I have not completed. I have not been kind to myself about those "failures."

But this day was different. I was kinder to myself. I told myself that I may not be finishing, but I had already run five miles. Five miles! Two months ago that would have been an impossibility. Today, not only did I do it, but it was relatively easy not hard, and I actually enjoyed it.

I ended the run feeling rather proud of myself. I was proud of my five miles. I was proud of my peacefulness. But mostly, I was proud of my kindness toward myself.

It was a beautiful run.


~~~Thoughts~~~

When you "fail" - actually fail or a failure that comes from being too hard on yourself - how do you treat yourself?
What does kindness toward yourself look like?
How often do you exercise that part of you?
And, most importantly, what keeps you from being kind to all parts of you?

Until next time, may you love your life today.

 

 

The Man of the Woods

Ahhh, what a lovely moment this is. Friday night, at one of my favorite haunts in Asheville, Jack of the Wood. This was the first place my husband and I went when we arrived in Asheville in July 2007 - a cute little Irish pub that hosts bluegrass bands complete with fiddles and mandolins and people passionate about their groove. It is a place that our "Best"est friends from Seattle had enjoyed as they explored our city, long before we arrived. It is a place that holds memories, passion and mystery. (Tim, you'd love it!)

The Green Man, pictured here, is, for lack of a better word, the mascot of this establishment. This photo is from the outside of the pub. He is a Man of the Woods, a man of mystery, a wild man. He has also been described as a symbol of rebirth, representing the cycle of growth each spring (Wikipedia). 

He reminds me of Ireland's leprechaun, a myth not unlike the Sasquatch of Native American lore. When I was in grad school, obtaining a degree in counseling, the legend of Sasquatch was an important part of one of my classes, "The Power of the Unconscious." In that class we were challenged to consider the legend/reality of Sasquatch. How can we know he is not real? How can we know he is? And, bottom line, does the reality of the beast really matter?

My conclusion was OH YES, it matters. Not literally. I don't need to go out and prove or disprove the existence of Sasquatch. But what I do need to consider is the presence of the part of my soul that is shrouded in mystery, intrigue, darkness and passion. What is the story of my inner Man of the Woods? What's the story of yours? The Man of the Woods is elusive and mysterious, a scary part of our unconscious that we often try to avoid. But what if we were to encounter our fear and journey into those parts of our soul, allowing what we find there to speak to us? What if we were to go "into the woods?"

Entering the woods of our soul opens us to awareness. As I work toward running a marathon, the journey is about a whole lot more than just the physical output required to run 26.2 miles. It is about finding parts of me I never knew existed, and embracing all parts of me - beautiful, ugly, scary, vulnerable. Running is an avenue into awareness of what is stirred in me, into awareness of the different parts of me, all of whom have something to tell me. I truly want to be one who loves life, and awareness of what (or who) can hold me back from really loving life is essential. What holds me back? I want to know. And I trust the miles will guide me.

As I sit here in this pub, alongside my husband, drinking Highlands Gaelic Ale (North Carolina's closest answer to Seattle's Mac-n-Jack), I am aware of an awakening in me. The past few years have had me solidly, depressingly and traumatically in the woods. Now, finally, I feel I am out of those woods. But there will be more invitations to enter the woods - sometimes on a daily basis, and certainly on a run by run basis! I want to continue to be awakened to that call. I want to enter those woods to learn all that the mysteries of the soul have to teach me. And when I am there, I hope I will still say, "I love life!"

 ~~~Thoughts~~~

When have you had to go "into the woods?" What life circumstances have called you to re-examine who you thought you were, to change how you viewed the world?

What gets in the way of you truly loving your life? And as you answer that question, are you willing to go back into the woods in order to confront/embrace the silent parts of you that hold you back?

Until next time, may you love your life today.

Another Look What I Got Today!

The man in the brown suit knocked on my door today:

Thank you my sweet Karyn, for the gift!

Look What I Got Today!

Whether or not I run a marathon may still be a big fat ?, but the half marathon is a go!

Look what came in the mail today - I didn't even know I was getting a training shirt. My husband will be so jealous! 

I am ticketed, registered, and today I got the (really big) t-shirt. If you see me around town, throw a Diet Pepsi my way!  :)

PS: It's not really a t-shirt cuz it's "moisture-wicking-fiber" and not just plain 'ole non-breathable cotton! (Two months ago I had no idea what that even meant. I'm so in-the-know now.)

Back:

Welcome First Timers!

Today I let all my friends and family know about this blog. So, I want to say...

WELCOME!

 

My hope is you'll come back - I'd love to engage with you about my thoughts on life and have your encouragement as I stumble toward this crazy goal!

If you haven't already, read these posts to get a feel for this blog:

Beware: Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies Lead to Grandiose Ideas

Talking With Tori

How Will You Love Your Life Today?

Best T-Shirt Ever

Ten Things I Have Learned in Four Months of Running

There's more, but that's a good sampling, I think.

Until next time, may you love your life today!
Dani :)

Reporting In

Sunday, June 7, 2009
8:10 am
65 degrees
6.1 miles
1:06:14
Four minutes walking
10:51 minute mile.
New iPod: not working.
Attitude in mile two: shitty.
Attitude in miles three - six: Pretty good.
Overall: Good run.
Whew.
Route Below (click around on it to zoom in)

Ten Things I Have Learned in Four Months of Running

(Readers, see #7. Thank you.)

Yesterday I ran three miles. When I left at 7:30am, it was 62 degrees and cloudy outside. Perfect for a run.

So I thought.

I won’t bore you with the inane details of the run, such as the sudden pain in my abdominals that only females have the pleasure of feeling, or being doubled over in agony unable to walk let alone run, or lying on the grass between the sidewalk and the busiest street in my neighborhood, wondering how long I’d have to lie there before someone would wonder if I was dead, or the experience of 96% humidity with sweat pouring off of me, into my eyes, and the fact that it is impossible to breathe when it is pure water going into your lungs, or the cute little rock I tripped on, twisting my ankle and causing me to hop on one leg looking like an idiot. No, I won’t bore you with those details. 

What I will do is make a list of the things I have learned from this run, my angry run, and almost every other run up to this point.

1. Food: What you eat really really really makes a difference. Consuming pizza, beer, two cupcakes, a cheeseburger, french fries, ice cream, potato chips and too many margaritas at the neighborhood BBQ in the 24-hours before a long run does not for a good run make. (Not that this is the kind of thing I normally consume. Really. It's not. Ask my husband. Or my dog.)

2. Sleep: Tired, hungry, dehydrated. This was me before the angry run. Yes yes, common sense would tell you that lack of sleep would have an impact on physical exertion. But that's easier to believe when you are in the middle of a run than at midnight when you are really enjoying your friends.

3: Hydration: See #1 above. Too many margaritas? Expect a tough run. And don't try to drink a bunch of water before a run. Puking will ensue.

4: Heat: I hate it. Period. 'Nuff said.

5. Humidity: This is a new one for me. I had no idea humidity mattered to a run. I thought it was just the heat that really killed me. I now know that humidity, even if it is cool outside, is almost as nasty as plain 'ole heat. Almost.

6. Pace: The faster you run, the more tired you become. Now, before you mock me for stating the obvious, hear this. Pace, when I am alone running through the streets of my neighborhood, is easy to maintain. By maintain, I mean run at your level so you do not pass out. Pace, when running with elite runners (or at least the kind you meet at the track club who are more experienced than you) is much more difficult. I am SOOO slow. Running with people who are faster than me (which would be 35 of the 35 people at the track club) causes you to speed up. Speeding up (before you can handle the pace) causes you to nearly pass out. Or want to die. And the WORST is when one of these said amazing runners has MASSIVELY slowed down to be kind to you, to talk to you, to encourage you, and yet is STILL running twice as fast as you. It makes it really hard to not increase your pace. To not die. Lesson: Run alone to survive. (I don't really mean that. Usually.)

7. Support: I am greatly motivated by the encouragement of others. A few people made comments on my Facebook wall before my longest run ever (9.3 in May), and I carried those dear people's faces and comments with me as I ran. Knowing they were rooting for me and that I could report back to them when I was done was an amazing motivator. And several of you, some faces I know and some I do not, have told me how this blog has inspired you. I can't tell you how much that makes my soul smile. It gives me reason to get out there on that next run (and to eat right, sleep and hydrate).

8. Pain: Physical pain is hard to run through. Whether it's a shin splint, sore ankle, headache, too-tight  sports bra, rubbing inner thighs (sorry, but true...), gastrointestinal malfunction (yes, gas, poofers, pooters, farts, call it what you will), cramps like child birth (again, my apologies to the faint of heart), hips aching, SI joint screaming, earbuds pinching, sweat in-the-eye burning, or heat stroke, pain is hard to run through. Let me rephrase: For ME, pain is hard to run through. I think it has something to do with #10.

9. Every run is hard: Maybe this one won't always be true. Ohhhh I pray to whoever will listen that this won't always be true. But as I headed out yesterday on my "easy, cool-weather run" only to struggle the whole way through, I finally admitted to myself that running is just plain hard. 9.3 miles or three miles or one block. For me, for now, every run is hard. ("Now, don't let that discourage you," she says to herself. "It's really just a mind game so that the runs will seem easier because you are expecting it to be hard." "Ohhhh, " she replies. "Brilliant.")

10. Running is 90% Mental: As is life. What I tell myself about a run becomes that run. If I am in pain (see #8) and I tell myself I can't run because of it, what do you know? That becomes true. If it is hot or humid (or god forbid, hot AND humid) and I tell myself I can't run in that kind of weather, that becomes true. That inner voice has a LOT of power over what I choose to do with my body.

I'll go out on a limb here and say that that inner voice has a lot of power over many choices in our days. Attitudes, judgments, hatred or love, compassion or criticality, living or rotting. What our mind tells us has an enormous influence over how we perceive the world. I am not saying that everything would be perfect if we only thought it so. Life is way too complex for that to be true. But I am saying that given the hardship and joys of life that do exist, our attitude matters greatly. (Remind me of that on the next humid, 80 degree day when my hamstring hurts.)

Think of your day today. What has annoyed you? What have you enjoyed? How has your attitude impacted each of these things? How can you have a better run tomorrow?

Until next time, may you love your life today.