Begin

I happily embellished my photo using the new (and addicting) iPhone app by A Beautiful Mess

"Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it. 

Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it. Begin it now."

~Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

I am a marathoner

I've been sitting on some news for a month now. Last month, on my birthday, I got swept away in a daring moment. I was celebrating another year of life (and what an amazing year it was), watching the inspirational Biggest Loser finale, and processing the early death of an acquaintance. And in that moment, I felt a strong need to recommit to myself, my health, and cherish being alive. And so what does one do in that instance? Well I took a daring leap. I jumped online and signed up to run the California International Marathon again this December. I then quickly questioned my sanity.

Needless to say, running 26.2 miles is hard, but all the training that goes into it is even harder. And the further I've gotten from December 2nd, the more afraid I've been to do it again. But I remember feeling the desire to do it again that same day, right after finishing my first marathon. I wanted the chance to do it injury-free, so I could give it my all. And I trusted that crazy "something" that told me to run my first marathon. So for another brief moment of insanity, I trusted that thought again and I signed up this year.

Since then I've been quietly processing this. I've shared the news with close friends and family, but haven't found the courage to announce it to the world. I've been slowly building the courage to step up and own this adventure again. I've been daring to believe that I could run it stronger and faster than I've ever run before. And I was even daring to dream that I could someday improve enough to qualify for a Boston Marathon (which would mean shaving almost 2-1/2 hours off my first marathon time, an unfair comparison due to my injury, but still the truth). I was building the courage to share my plans and dreams out loud. This would make them more real and allow me to transform dreams into goals. But then the explosions happened at the Boston Marathon on Monday.

That morning, my girls and I had just been watching the marathon online as we got ready for school. I openly shared my dreams with them and they believed in me and my dreams (the magic of being a mom). As I grocery shopped that morning, I dreamt of running in Boston and having my family there to support me and celebrate what would be a tremendous accomplishment. I reminisced about races from last year and visualized races to come this year. I could feel the excitement I experience as I line up to run a race. I really love the energy at a race that comes from the crowd and running community. And then those dreams were suddenly rattled by the explosions. What had already been a scary dream for me, became even scarier.

For the past couple days, I've definitely squeezed my family a little tighter. I can't even begin to express all the emotions I have felt as I watch the news and follow countless runners on Facebook. It's simply unbelievable. But when I get past the shock and the horror of what has happened, I am reminded to be grateful. Grateful to have today. Grateful for everyday heroes. Grateful for my family and friends. Grateful for my health and my legs and my ability to run. Grateful to be a part of the amazing running community. Grateful to have dreams and the chance to chase after them. So as I move forward in gratitude for all that I have, I will step up to my dreams and my goals. I am a runner. In fact, I am a marathoner. I am training for my second marathon in December with dreams of someday qualifying for and running in the Boston Marathon.

I am what I believe

Hmm... So what do I mean by this? Let me explain. It started with a few seemingly unrelated ideas.

The first bit came last fall from a conversation I had with Tiffany Han, a wonderfully inspiring life coach. It was brought to my attention that things that I had always thought were inherently true about myself didn't have to be that way. If I wanted to change something, I could. I was the storyteller of my life and I could rewrite the story if I so desired. I had that power. Hmm...

Then, last month, I finished watching the 14th season of NBC's the Biggest Loser. I've only watch one other season, but both times I found it incredibly inspiring. And one of the contestants, Jackson, at one point said, "Weight loss is 100% mental. You have to want it more than anything." Now from reading people's comments on Facebook, not everyone embraces this point of view. But I recognized its value. I had seen this in my own weight loss journey, as well as in long distance running (very mental). It's all about choices. But why stop there? Isn't just about everything in life about choices? So you could say that "Life is 100% mental." It's all about perspective and the choices you make. Hmm...

After watching both Brené Brown episodes of Super Soul Sunday on Oprah (very inspiring stuff), I started watching more Super Soul Sundays and Life Classes. So I recently caught Oprah's Life Class with Joel Osteen and was intrigued by his message about positive self-talk and respecting the power of statements that start with I AM. "Whatever follows I AM is going to come looking for you." Hmm...

And that led to the simple but powerful reminder that I am what I believe I am. I write my own stories and I have a choice. I choose how I view things and I how I react to things. I choose what to do and where to use my energy. I choose how to see myself. I can get down on myself or I can choose to be positive. It may not always come naturally but it's worth it to try, to believe in myself. I can be what I believe myself to be. And you can, too. You can even make "impossible" things happen if you truly believe (that's what my marathon taught me). Hmm...

Facing the impossible

It's been almost four months since I ran my first marathon, and practically that long since I've written a blog post. I know I never quite finished my marathon story here, but I've found it increasingly difficult to return to it. Just as I took a break from running to recover, I seemed to have also taken an unintentional break from writing and creating, too. I'm now slowly returning to everything. It is not only taking effort to build back up my running, but also my writing and creating. And even though it is challenging, these are all necessary activities for me that I hold dear to my heart. As I add them all back into my life, I'm feeling happier, less lost, and more alive.

The marathon was an incredible experience. As I've written before, the weather was crazy and my emotions overflowed. Once I started, the weather remained awful, but my emotions actually calmed. I may have been wet, and a little cold, but I had my music in one ear and I was running. I was happy.

As I ran, I was mindful to soak in the scenery and the experience, thanks to a reminder from a friend. I made sure to be present because I was running my very first marathon and this moment could never be relived. I had a strategically chosen playlist filled with songs to provide inspiration and motivation. I admired the beauty of the trees lining the road and the rolling hills ahead of me. I enjoyed the sensation of being out in the middle of the pouring rain, sheltered only by my baseball cap since my poncho didn't last long. It was quite freeing to be in the rain, not trying to rush out of it. There was no need. I was absolutely soaked.

When I reminded myself to be present (because my mind wanders quite a bit when I run), it was all a bit surreal. Especially when you get running and you find yourself forgetting that you're running. You just move through space, unaware of your legs and feet moving below you. It's magical. And I quickly found myself in that magical place. At least until mile 3.

At mile 3, my dreaded knee pain (from an over stretched IT Band) returned and I was faced with decisions that had to be made. How was I going to get through 23 more miles with this pain? Was it a sign? Did I need to quit? Would I cause irreparable damage if I continued? Tons of questions raced through my head, but I quickly felt the right decision was to keep on going. As long as I was still upright, I could keep going (wisdom collected and shared by my friend Paula). I was strong. I had battled through several unexpected setbacks and too many months of training to give up. It took courage just to line up in the face of such wild weather that morning and I wasn't about to let it all be for nothing. I was ready. I had loved ones rooting for me in that pouring rain and the support of many more in my heart. I pushed on.

From reading about and understanding my injury, I was safe to keep going. It was just going to hurt. But there were things I could do to help. Walking was less stressful on my over-stretched IT Band, so I walked up hills and through the water stations. That offered some relief, but all-in-all, the pain was always present. But I had come to far to give in to it. And I desperately wanted a 26.2 sticker for my car. So I kept going.

The time passed surprisingly quickly (not necessarily the miles). I had the obvious distractions like my music, other runners, and the rain. But I also feel the time passed more rapidly because I broke it into smaller segments as I kept track for refueling. A perfect reminder to break big tasks into smaller pieces. (When I stop to think about it, I learned a ton about life from training for and running a marathon. I definitely have more "life wisdom" to share). I drank plenty of water throughout the course even though I never felt thirsty as the sky pored buckets on us all. I even had to take two porta-potty breaks (one of which took 10 minutes because of the line).

I tried staying in touch with my husband, knowing my family would be cheering me on at both mile 10 and 20. With my iPhone tightly wrapped up under my jacket, I had to rely on Siri to dial. But I didn't have a lot of prior experience with Siri and the wind made it noisy, so ultimately I fought with Siri. At one point, I even thought I'd completely lost my music early in the race. But thankfully my music returned, but Siri did not. She actually abandoned me. I couldn't summon her and it was too wet to take out my phone. So it was difficult to let my family know my whereabouts on the course.

It was such a blessing to have my family out in that rain with me. I unfortunately don't have any pictures from my perspective during the race, but when I first saw them at mile 10, it was a magical moment. Daniel and my good friend, Michelle, were up front and cheering me on excitedly. And a little further up the road, in the middle of the grayness, I saw my mom and my two daughters with their brightly colored signs and umbrellas. Unintentionally, they all had different solid colored umbrellas (yellow, red, and green) like a bright bouquet of flowers just for me. One of my most cherished and vivid memories from the day.

I saw my family again at mile 20 at which point it was dry and sunny. The clouds broke up and the rain stopped around mile 18. At that point I was tired of being wet, but thankful the day hadn't been terribly cold. I will say that the rain did add to the experience. At one point, during one of the downpours, I couldn't help but laugh as the song "The Sound of Sunshine" played in my ear. I also remember wading through water at several flooded intersections, unable to avoid the excess water but realizing there being no need to avoid it. I was already soaked. And the rain took some pressure off the experience (although it added stress at the same time). If I didn't finish, I could blame the weather. If I did, I could be proud of overcoming yet another obstacle in my journey.

After I passed my family at mile 20, I stopped for my second/last porta-potty break, took a seat (which sounds like a good idea, but not when you have 6.2 more miles to go) and mentally prepared for the last 10K. I had run 10K before. No problem. In fact, once I got past mile 15--the furthest I'd gone in my training--I felt curious and eager to go further. On one hand, I'd never been past 15 miles, but on the other hand, I had run 11 miles before (just not after running 15 miles, but I didn't focus on that). Luckily I looked at just what I had left, and acknowledged that I had done those distances before and would be able to that day.

So at mile 20, I pushed on through my last 10K. It was the hardest. No surprise there. I was in a good amount of pain at that point, so I was walking quite a bit. The weather was clear and beautiful. The last pacer (5 hr, 30 min) was long gone, and the course was supposed to open up to traffic at 6 hours. This panicked me to no end before the race began, but not during. During the race, I was always surrounded by lots of runners. And at that point in the race, many looked "wounded" like me. But nothing was going to stop me from finishing. The final 10K course brought us to midtown/downtown Sacramento, so I had many blocks to pass before getting to the finish. It served as a very slow countdown.

In the final blocks before reaching the finish at the state capital, I rallied and found the energy to run. I wanted to do my best to finish running rather than walking. Soon after, my friend Paula came running along side me (she had already finished) and pointed out my family up ahead. I was at mile 26 and so was my beloved cheering section. The tears welled up in my eyes (as they are now) as I began to realize what I was about to accomplish. I was about to complete a marathon. 26.2 miles. Despite crazy weather, injury, and tons of self-doubt, I was going to do what I once thought was impossible. I was about to cross the finish of my very first marathon. It took me over 6 hours (6:10:38) but I ran across that finish and celebrated with the love of my family and friends, both near and far.

What started out as a crazy idea last March, turned into one of the most amazing experiences of my life. As Walt Disney has been quoted,

"It's kind of fun to do the impossible"

A split second

My first "zentangle"

I know I owe you the end to my marathon story, but today I need to interrupt that slow moving story for a visit to the present. Since completing my first marathon last December and losing over 40lbs in the process of training, I've actually felt a little lost. After months of training and "dieting," I had reached my finish line. I had achieved some really big goals and faced some really big challenges and fears. So now what?

You'd think "set another goal" followed, but between slowing down my running to heal and the holidays and the unpredictability of life, I was hesitant to push myself into another goal right away. And that was alright at first. I had been working hard and a break was in order. So with mixed emotions, I stopped running for awhile and I enjoyed the holidays with my family. I even snuck in a family trip to Disneyland to ring in the New Year (what better way to celebrate a year filled with incredible accomplishments). But then life settled down, the holidays passed, and my leg started healing (I'm still not 100% but I'm getting there). So now what?

Well that's been the question facing me for the past several weeks. Without a clear answer, I have felt lost. I'll admit I've slipped into some old, emotional eating patterns and a far more sedentary lifestyle than I had been living. Nothing drastic. I'm still at my goal weight and still manage to workout semi regularly. But I recognize that if I don't find my way, I could easily gain my weight back and lose my good health. I seem to have lost a bit of my drive and my spark. 

So why am I telling you this? First, it's just a reminder that as amazing as my journey has been, I'm still human. Just because I share all the exciting stuff here, doesn't mean that I dont struggle sometimes. But really, the point to this blog post is to share the return of my spark. I have just come off of an inspiring week.

The week started with an REI workshop on trail running led by ultra runners, Julie Fingar and Don Freeman. I have not done any trail running myself (I'm a road runner, "meep, meep"). But I'm open to the possibility of trail running (and maybe even an ultra marathon someday, because your never know). No doubt, the scenery is amazing but I'll admit the call of the road is louder right now since it is just outside my front door. There's something to be said for ease of use. Nonetheless it was inspiring, and entertaining, to listen to these amazing athletes speak and to be surrounded by other endurance runners, including the inspiring Slenderella (BTW, she just ran another 50K yesterday. Amazing). 

Two nights later, I had the pleasure of attending an art class, zentangling, with my friend, Sylvia. Last year as I transformed from overweight to athlete, unintentionally I backed away from my artistic side (there's only so many hours in the day). Throughout the year, I stayed creative in the kitchen and by writing the occasional blog post, but I didn't make much art. So doodling in the zentangle class and taking a collage class with Sylvia several weeks ago has been a welcome artistic return. Like a restoration of balance.

And if that wasn't enough inspiration, yesterday I had the opportunity to hear Biggest Loser Season 11 winner Olivia Ward speak. I haven't watched many seasons of Biggest Loser, but I did watch Olivia's season and found it rather inspiring. So when I learned she was speaking at a Kaiser event in Roseville, I thought it was worth checking out. She was a great speaker, and even though I didn't get to hear her entire speech (I had to get to work), I was inspired by what I did hear. One big take away for me was this: She said "it may take hours, days, weeks, or even years to change your body, but it only takes a split second to change your mind." That was just the reminder I needed. It is time to recommit to myself.

And then to add even more inspiration to my week, during a very short lunch yesterday, I snuck out to see Clinton Kelly speaking at Macy's. From time to time, I've watched Clinton on TLC's What Not to Wear, but recently I have watched him regularly on ABC's cooking talk show, The Chew. And I love The Chew. It inspires me to try new things in the kitchen, which is a consistent place for me to express my creativity. In fact, I recently made a recipe of Clinton's from The Chew and it may arguably be the best thing I have ever made. So when I heard a radio spot advertising that Clinton Kelly would be in Roseville yesterday, I had to sneak a peek. My schedule only allowed me to stay for 10 minutes, but it was worth it. He's great with a crowd and really upbeat. I wish I could have stayed for much more, but I'm grateful for the time I had. In looking up the event info, I ran across his books and even though I don't have his books on fashion, the title of one added to my growing spark: Freakin' Fabulous: How to Dress, Speak, Behave, Eat, Drink, Entertain, Decorate, and Generally Be Better than Everyone Else. My take away: here's someone trying to help people be better versions of themselves. And that's the path I was blazing for myself last year (and even before that, but last year was extra special).

So it is time for me to get back on track for living my life to the fullest and being the best version of myself that I can be: happy and healthy!

Olivia Ward from Biggest Loser Season 11 & Clinton Kelly from The Chew

Running my first marathon (Part 2)

As I mentioned before, in the days leading up to the CIM, I was extremely nervous and emotional. I can't tell you when I did something that scared me so much. I really can't. But I faced that fear. Early that Sunday morning, as the rain and wind beat against the house, I got my stuff together and prepared to start, and hopefully finish, my first marathon.

Fortunately, I wasn't alone at the start. My friend Paula (whom I had run several races with during the year, including the NWM half marathon in SF) was just crazy enough to try a marathon with me. So our beloved husbands dropped us off on that dark, stormy morning, armed with their love and encouragement, as well as our rain ponchos, sports goo, etc..

We were dropped off about a mile from the start and I will say that the weather was crazy awful. As we climbed out of the car, we were immediately greeted by the heavy wind and rain. We pushed towards the growing mass of runners and long lines of port-a-potties (an unfortunate but necessary part of races). It was still early, so luckily we found refuge under the small awning of a building near the start, along with quite a few other runners. We squeezed together and waited, watching the diagonally pouring rain.

Surprisingly at this point, I was beginning to feel less afraid. I was growing eager, as the adrenaline built up from the excitement of the race. I was ready to go. I was ready to see what was going to happen. How was this chapter going to end for me? Would I finish? Time would soon tell. Just hours from then, I'd know how this story would end.

As race time grew near, we took our last pit stops and walked up to the start. There was no hiding from the rain and wind at this point. We were going to get wet. But so were thousands of other runners. We searched for our pacers, experienced runners assigned to complete the marathon in a set time. Paula and I wanted to keep the last two pacers in sight, a 5:10 and a 5:25 finish, as well as keep in mind that the course is reopened after a 6:00 pace (something we were hoping to avoid).

Paula and I started together but knew we might not finish together. We had different concerns and strategies. My strategy was not to let myself get swept away in the excitement at the start, and run too fast. That repeatedly occurred to me in race situations and it caused serious trouble when I ran my last, very painful, half marathon. I needed to take it easy so that I might run the 26.2 miles with the least amount of trouble from my injured IT Band. Paula wanted to go out a little stronger in the beginning so she would have time for walking or pit stops if needed.

So when the race began, we faced the heavy winds and pouring rain together, but we separated early. And that was okay. As wonderful as it was to have someone with me that day, ultimately there was nobody but me that could help me finish my first marathon. There were 26.2 miles for my legs and feet to carry me. 26.2 miles for my mind to convince me I could complete. 26.2 miles for my heart to reassure me that I could do. It was all me. 26.2 miles just for me.

{more to come.....}

Here I am!

Here I am! I did survive my first marathon on December 2, 2012! I am officially a marathoner! Yay!

For those who have been wondering, I am sorry I left you hanging for so, so long. December brought some unexpected distractions and I feel like I'm just realizing its January, even though we're over half way through it. Yikes. Nonetheless, here I am 1-1/2 months later and 26.2 miles further into the amazing journey that is my life.

As I left off, I grew increasingly nervous as I got closer to the California International Marathon (CIM). Not only had my training not gone as plan due to injury (aka IT Band issues), but the weather became a huge factor. In past years, the CIM would generally fall on a cool, crisp day, but no such luck for me. It was stormy, wet weather with 30-50 mph winds. I must have checked the weather forecast hundreds of times in the days leading up to it, hoping to see a calmer forecast (and I swear when I went to bed the night before, the forecast was calmer), but when I woke up I quickly learned that was wrong. The weather was pretty horrendous. Northern California was in the middle of a huge storm and the very worst of it had been predicted during the marathon and that prediction held true. Luckily the rain wasn't a terribly cold rain, so I did (and do) appreciate that it could have been worse. But it was still pretty bad for my first marathon.

As I mentioned, I grew terribly nervous leading up to the marathon (aka I was a basket case), yet I woke up that morning surprisingly calm. Actually knowing that the weather would be horrible was comforting. There was one less unknown when I woke up to run 26.2 miles because everything felt like an unknown:

"Would I be able to run 26.2 miles since my longest training run had been 15 miles?" At least 20 miles is what most programs recommend, but due to injury I had to back down on my miles in hopes of a recovery before CIM.

"Would my injury stop me from completing the race?" Just a month prior, I completed my third half marathon and did 10 out of 13 miles in a fair amount of pain. And that was just half the distance. I was scared. You might be wondering why I still continued to train and then run the CIM with an injury. All I can say is that I had put in a lot of time, miles, and heart into my training. And as scary as it felt, my heart knew I had to try.

"Would I be able to stay fueled throughout the race, knowing that it was going to take me hours to complete 26.2 miles? Would I experience "the wall" at mile 20 that affect so many runners? Would improper refueling and hydration stop me from finishing?" One disadvantage of backing down on my training, was the fact that I didn't get to experiment as much with my fuel. Improper fueling can lead to stomach upset, muscle cramps, etc.. Not something I wanted to experience.

"What impact was the weather going to have? How windy would it feel? How much harder would it feel to run in pouring rain? How heavy would my shoes feel once soaked? Would I be too cold, or even too warm, in my chosen outfit? Would I be able to avoid chafing and blisters?" The crazy weather filled me with increasing doubts. So much can be controlled when preparing for a race, but I was being reminded, big time, that weather was not one of those controllable things.

"Would I be able to complete the race in the time allotted (6 hours), or would the weather, my injury, and/or decreased training slow me down too much?" One of my biggest fears was the fact, that for runners completing the race in more than 6 hours, the course would be reopened to cars. The thought of running along side traffic in the really crappy weather conditions made me nervous. And when I think about it even more, I seemed to fear bringing up the rear thus finding myself alone thus not being a part of the crowd thus standing out (very interesting, huh?).

As you can see, my mind was filled with questions and doubts. But I will tell you something. Once I was at the start line, standing in the blustery wind and being pelted by the cold rain, something changed. My mind no longer asked if I'd finish. The question became when I'd finish. And finish I did!

......More to come. I promise!