Grab a shovel! We're gonna have to dig deep...

I like a challenge. If you know me, you know that. I like to push my limits and see what I can do and find new places in my heart and soul that I never knew existed. For a lot of people, that's uncomfortable. It's dark and ugly in there and, quite frankly, it's so much easier just to leave the door closed and imagine the heaping pile of mess inside will just disintegrate into oblivion. It won't. It is one of the few things in life I am absolutely sure of....

This past weekend was filled with opportunities for many of my good friends and clients and myself, for that matter, to dig deep and discover how much inner strength we all possess. The Ragnar Relay is a 203 mile race across the state of Florida. You run as a team passing the baton as you go. You run on grass, on roads, on trails. You run through the heat of the day and the cold of the night. You run in blackness so complete that only the halo from your headlamp provides the only protection from the darkness-- you run and you run and you run some more. This continues through the night with only two very short naps (maybe an hour each) and not nearly enough food. And when the dawn finally breaks through, you can't help but to wonder, for just a moment, exactly why you are doing this. Or more accurately, how you are going to do this last segment.

That was exactly what I was thinking as I stood in the chute ready to take the baton from my teammate and head out on my final segment of the race.

I like a challenge. If you know me, you know this. But, I have never in my life had to dig as deep as I had to dig on November 21st at 1:55 pm. Never. I've been tired before, so tired I thought I could just curl up in whatever spot I was in and sleep for days. I've been hungry before. I mean, the kind of hunger where you're own hand starts to look kind of tasty. I have certainly had my body ache and scream at me. My body has said things to me that would make a sailor blush. I have never experienced all three at once, at top intensity. I will tell you, it was not the most awesome I have ever felt.

So, I took the baton and I did the only thing I could do. I ran. One foot in front of the other, one step after another, focused on the person in front of me, the person I had to pass. The distance between us shrank with every footfall. I passed her and I kept running. It hurt, it was hard, but I kept moving. Running, running, running. And then, I fell. I stepped in a hole and the pain shot through my whole leg from the toes to the top. My knees buckled as I fell like a tree, a solid mass colliding with the ground. My face hit the dirt and my nose pushed halfway up to my forehead. I sucked in air and my eyes filled with tears. The tears poured over onto my cheeks mixing with the dirt and the blackness dripped onto the grass. The pain was throbbing and radiating. I couldn't breathe and if there had been food in my stomach, I would have puked. I stared down at the black puddle in front of me and watched another black teardrop fall from my nose and join the others. The blackness inside me: my worst enemy and my biggest motivator, my heckler and my coach. I run because it makes me and I run to get rid of it. I closed my eyes really tight, took a slow deep breath, glanced back and saw the form of the girl in the distance behind me. I reached deep down into my soul to dig out the last ounce of anything I might have inside, and I stood up. Oh God, it hurt. It hurt so very, very bad. But, I did the only thing you can ever do when things get tough. I started moving, I looked to the horizon and I started heading that direction. At first, just a limp, then a walk, and finally a jog. The wind pounded me in the face, taking every opportunity to beat the ever-loving crap out of what little spirit I had left. The terrain was merciless with its ups and downs. Monsters were reaching out of the ground and stabbing my ankle with every single step. The sun taunted and teased me determined to melt away any hope of finishing. I stared at the horizon and my jog became a run.

"One foot in front of the other.... Run with perseverance.... One foot in front of the other.... Run with perseverance...." The mantra rolled through my head over and over. The cadence of my feet carried an awkward off-beat shuffle sound. My mind became a void and my breathing matched the beat of my heart, a breakneck race to see which would max out first. And then I saw the sign. One mile to go. I glanced back. No one in sight. I tucked my chin and I pushed even harder. As I rounded the last bend, I saw my team hands in the air waving and screaming like a bunch of idiots and my whole body felt them pulling me forward. I handed off the baton, squatted down and let the tears fall. This time, they weren't black.

Peaceful Power-- Lessons in SELF from the ocean.

I stood, coffee in hand, on the 24th floor balcony overlooking the Gulf of Mexico. The waves marched in like lines of soldiers bravely moving forward to battle, faces a mix of stoic purpose and confused resignation. The seagulls floated on air pockets, neither still nor moving; a rather strange mix of moving stillness, really. How is that even possible? The breeze nipped at the tiny hairs on my neck and sent a shiver down my back. The ocean was all I could see, miles and miles and miles of ocean. An expanse so incredibly huge I cannot even fathom the distance or volume or power. And then, me- a teensy, tinsy little spec. A mere dust particle in comparison.

Talk about perspective. I couldn't make even the tiniest wave stop it's purposeful march to the shore, no matter how hard I tried. Even if I mustered every single ounce of strength from every single muscle fiber in my body, I couldn't float on an air pocket. I couldn't achieve that perfect mix and create stillness in motion like the birds. Every brain cell in my head working at full capacity, can't understand the magnitude of this view; I can't comprehend how all of this works so perfectly with such ease. The birds don't fret about whether or not they will catch the next air pocket or if the laws of physics will suddenly change and they will crash to the ground. The mollusks don't worry about which direction the current is carrying them and whether or not they will like this new location. How can you be so purposeful? How can you know so well your place in life that you allow it to just happen as it will? How can I be so self centered as to think anything or anyone should revolve around me? Or that I am so powerful that I can fight the natural course of life in my pursuit of anything?

I stood on that balcony and I had to fight every muscle fiber in my body. I wanted to jump so badly. Not because I wanted to die or anything crazy like that. But because I wanted to feel it. I wanted to float on an air pocket, I wanted to just let the current carry me wherever it goes. I wanted to resign and just let life happen and see what comes of it. I fight too much. I struggle and fret and wrestle, and I think it's too much. I need to learn to create change like the ocean, with poise and purpose but also resignation, humility and flexibility. Oceans change shorelines-- slowly, methodically. The ocean can't stop the magnetic pull of the moon or fight the resultant monsoons from volcanoes on the other side of the world. Nope. The ocean creates change silently and gracefully. It works with what it is given. It stays at the task day in and day out understanding that despite the challenge presented on any given day, it must continue its march to the shore creating great change without great commotion.

Hmmm. That's something to think about....

Another Birthday, A year of Promise!

Well, it came and it went. I am now 29 years old and I think I had the best birthday I have ever had... no fanfare, nothing huge and exciting, no giant totally notable presents. Yet, it was perfect in every way imaginable. I passed from my 28th year of life into my 29th year of life much like a duck flies awkwardly and feverishly through the sky, without an ounce of grace, just to land perfectly poised in the water, suddenly smooth and peaceful. That is how I would describe my birthday weekend. I feel like I have suddenly landed in the water and I am gliding..... at least for now.

I have been pondering an idea, a thought, a challenge for a few weeks now. I want something to commemorate this next year of life, something that represents growth in every aspect of my life. And so, I have decided to conquer 12 challenges in the 12 months ahead. To embark on 12 adventures that will challenge my heart, my soul, my body, my mind, and my spirit. I want challenges that further me as a human, an athlete, a leader, a woman. I have started to plan out these adventures and I would be lying if I didn't say that some of them scare the crap out of me! But, here we go... 12 months, 12 adventures. The beginning starts this Friday. Stay tuned....

A friend of mine posted this video on his Facebook page. Curious, I clicked play and I watched. And then, I cried. I cannot imagine what this young lady feels inside, the dark places she must visit in her head in moments of despair. But I feel like I relate to her in one way, running. In the video, as she runs her body morphs and she can control her movement. She can speak clearly, focus, and enjoy everything around her without burden. It's amazing!

This woman whom I have never met, yet respect with every ounce of my soul, is the physical representation of what my mind and emotions go through every single day. Just as her body shakes and jumps and flails, my thoughts zip across the synapses of my brain never lending me for a moment even a sliver of peace and quiet. Except when I run.

I tried once to describe the chaos in my head to a friend. "Imagine," I told her, "That 500 middle school boys are in a concrete room. They are armed with as many racquetballs as they could ever want and a racquet in each hand. Some moron has instructed these young lads to hit the racquetballs as hard and fast as they can without stopping. And, just to make it more fun, if they actually hit another person in the room, they get double points. 1-2-3-GO!" What ensues is mass confusion, lots of fun, and complete ridiculousness......

Welcome to my world.

Most of the time, my mental chaos doesn't bother me. It's like an old friend that is slightly annoying but you keep him around anyways just because..... well, who knows why, but you do. There are times when I wish this dear friend would just shut up, just stop, just quit getting on my last nerve. Perhaps I am certifably insane, who knows? But I think insanity is pretty much a requirement for greatness, so I am in a good place, right? Anyways, there are some nights where sleep will not come because this annoying friend of mine just will not lie down and rest, even for a second. No matter how much I cry or beg or plead or promise, he is relentless. He is oblivious. And he does not ever seem to tire.

But I can outrun him.

Within a mile, I am far enough ahead that his screams have faded into silence and I am safe, free from chaos. It is the only time I am in the present, in THIS moment right now, the moment that matters. The only moment that I am guaranteed. I love that feeling. I enjoy the sensation in my body, the screaming of my muscles, the mind-numbing cadence of my footfall, the soft wheeze of my breathing. I am free to notice the world around me in a vivid detail that escapes me at any other time of day.

Sometimes if I am lucky, my dear friend Mental Chaos, is so hurt that I have left him behind that he will not join me again for an hour or two. But, more often than not, he is standing by the truck waiting to climb in and talk my ear off as we drive home. I am more patient now, the moments of calm still resonating in my heart. We can be friends again in these moments, my good buddy directing the middle schoolers in his loud booming voice, "1-2-3-Gooooo!" Chaos ensues.

Running Blind

Two weeks ago I flew out to Calabasas, California to do some really exciting work in the Health and Fitness industry. I flew out Sunday afternoon after waking up super early to crew some of my runners at their very first 10K race (HUGE accomplishment for these ladies, by the way, since they just STARTED running in late spring of 2009! I was so proud!). I arrived in Los Angeles, did all the annoying but necessary car rentals and blah, blah, blah and headed out to Clabasas excited to get to run in a new place in the morning.

Monday morning I woke up super early, even earlier than I do here and without an alarm (ugh. Stupid time difference). The weather was bee-ay-oo-tee-ful, and I even got to wear a mock turtle neck and thin tights! I rarely get to put those to use here in Florida. Anyways, the hotel was in a sort of deserted area and it was plenty dark (4:30 am) and I didn't really have any idea or plan of where to run. So, I took a right.

Now, I have been fortunate enough to run in a lot of places and in a lot of conditions. When I studied in France, I ran through the streets of Reims and past the cathedral where they signed the Treaty of Versailles. I could picture the men of that time sitting around discussing poiltics and the tense, palpable air. In Paris, I ran past the Arc de Triomphe and the Eiffel Tower, enjoying the sweet smell of coffee, cigarettes and pastries (for some reason cigarettes smell better in Paris... it's weird). In London, I ran through the red light district and past the soldiers with the fuzzy hats. I ran in Sweden and Denmark. I ran in Toronto and Quebec. I ran in New Orleans--- of course, that was a different kind of run and we will try to forget that one :D-- and I ran in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, which is nearly impossible for a native Floridian. I wouldn't even call that one a run, as a matter of fact. I've run through the streets of Vegas, around Central Park, through Washington DC. I'v run on rocks and trails and sand, through mud, and snow, and rain, and even once, in the midst of a hurricane. I am always amazed at how different it is to run in a new place. It's exciting and scary and even a little silly, sometimes, but it is always the first thing I do. It is how I "become one" with my new surroundings for lack of a better explanation.

Often times, when I run in a new place, I imagine that the people there have never seen a runner before, like I am some new oddity, a strange and exotic creature. "Oh my!" They exclaim. "Just look at that graceful being dancing through the streets." In my mind, I can hear the background music that would be playing if it was a scene in a movie and I picture the bystanders pausing at their work, for just an instance, to experience my joy and freedom as I introduce myself to this new place. Clearly, I live in a fantasy world....

I am never afraid when I run in a new place, though. No matter what type of places I run through or what time of day it is, I never feel afraid.

So, I took a right into the blackness. Not a light in sight, except for the hotel which I quickly left behind. I was literally running blind and the silence of this run was deafening. I have never heard anything so thick with silence in my life. The stars were perhaps some of the brightest I have seen, but were still of little use in the lighting of my path. As my eyes began to adjust, I could sense a massive form to my right and I glanced over to see a mountain rising up to the heavens, darker even than the sky. I imagined coyotes and other creatures crouching behind the rocks waiting to see if I was predator or prey. The cold air nipped at my fingers and for the first time ever, I felt the beginnings of something that might have been fear (though I would never admit that, of course). I was weak, vulnerable, slow, and compared to the creatures around me, completely blind and directionless.

Running Blind... huh. What a thought. No direction, no input from your surroundings, no visual cues of which direction to go or what to look out for... A complete and utter sensory deficit. I often feel like I am running blind through life, no idea where I am heading. "Forward and Upwards," I say to people who ask me where I see my life heading. And that's it. That's the only direction I have. If my life is moving forward and my spirit is moving upwards, can I really ask for more than that? I don't think so. Often, I don't know the path is going to turn until I have already run into the tree because I missed it. Ouch! I wonder, on occassion, if at (nearly) 29 yrs old, I should have more answers. Should I have a more fixed destination? Should I have figured out how to use a map and stick to a plan? I don't know. I had a plan once. It didn't look anything like what my life looks like now. What if I had stuck to it? Just plowed right through the trees, determined that this was the only path for me... would I be happy now?

I think I view life differently than a lot of people. I view it as this big maze (like in Alice and Wonderland) with lots of doors. When a door opens, you might as well walk through it. You have no idea where the hell you're really going anyways, right? So, when a door opens, I walk through it. Sometimes, I love what I find on the other side. But, sometimes, I quickly search for another door. Maybe I am getting there, or maybe I am not. In reality, none of us ever know if we are any closer to the end, the final destination, right? We can't see over the high walls, there are no peep holes to know what is on the other side. So, what difference does it make?

And so goes the life of a blind runner, I suppose. You run and you just keep running, moving forwards and upwards. And that's what I do.

I got safely back up the hill to the hotel and wiped the sweat from my brow. I swiped a warm cup of coffee with a shot of cream from the table and let it warm my whole body on the way down. I thought, for a moment, of the crouching coyotes and the invisible snakes, and I shuddered in spite of it. Safe....... for now.

The Thankful Runner

I can't say it as fact, but I have a sneaky suspicion that neither Martha Stewart or Julia Childs were runners. I am pretty confident that the editors of "Southern Living" and "Beautiful Home" are not either.

I was in the line at the grocery store and in a feeble (failed) attempt to avoid the chocolate, I began perusing the magazines. It took me about 15 seconds to come to the decision that those magazines are not written for runners and triathletes. It took me about 20 seconds to realize, how funny it was that that was my first thought....

I flipped open to a page showing a beautiful home. It was just gorgeous. Oh, how I would love to own a house like that, so perfectly positioned on a grassy hill with a sprawling yard......sigh! The article went on to show pictures and detail every room, and with each flip of the page my heart sank as I realized that this house was not for me, the runner. The fine entryway with the steps leading to the front door simply would not do. How can a girl be expected to walk up those things after a 22 mile run? The rich, dark hardwood floors would be destroyed by my three running mates-- two black labs and a catahula. Not to mention the fact that I couldn't possibly walk across them dripping sweat and mud! And really, how silly would the porcelain bathroom fixtures look with my sweaty shorts and sports bras hanging from them dripping onto the marble floors? I can just see me plopping down on the floor post-run and stretching while my stench embedded itself in the luxurious carpet.

I closed the magazine, made my purchases, and went home. I pulled up to my simple home with the yard that needs to be mowed. It's so hard to get to that pesky yard work after a Saturday morning spent running. I opened the door to the sound of 12 humongous paw running towards me, slipping and sliding across the tile. I walked past the ball of fur collected in the corner and stepped over one of the three cats winding through my legs. I picked up the towel I had used to wipe the mud from my legs after a bike ride and sat on the couch to realize it was still wet from where I sat on it this morning before I changed. And as the leftover sweat seeped into my jeans and the dogs fought for my affections and I took in the pile of sand next to the 4 pairs of running shoes under the coffee table, I knew I couldn't be luckier. I am exactly where I am supposed to be.... it may not be in Beautiful Homes Magazine and it may not be every person's dream home but if they made a magazine of homes for runners, my house would be on the cover.

Sometimes, it's hard to be thankful. It's hard to remember that the grass is not greener on the other side and to be content with where I am right now, in this moment. Today I am overly aware of the blessings in my life. Almost a year ago, I lost my job. Since then, so much has changed. I didn't even know how well I had it. I never even considered how fortunate I was or that I should be thankful for what I had. And the best part is that even though I am living now on less, my life is so much fuller and richer than ever before. You can't buy that.

My dogs are all lying at my feet right now, twitching and dreaming. I had a glorious run in the rain, my belly is full, my body is nourished and my spirits are high. I have everything I need right here and I couldn't be more thankful.

I used to be a wimp. I really did. Not just a wimp in the sense that I couldn't handle a little pain or criticism or something like that. I was wimpy in that way, but I was a wimp in every way imaginable. Running has made me a stronger person, a better person.

You see, running is applicable to every part of life. "When the going gets tough, the tough get going." It sounds good but I think that's just a saying to most people. Runners get the full sense of what it means to "get going." So many times, when life gets tough, I want to quit. I want to do the easy thing. I want to come up with excuses, but then I remember. I am a runner.

Every time I run a race, no matter the distance, I come to a point where quitting is not only possible, it’s actually kind of reasonable. I even play in my head all the “reasons” or excuses I could tell people for why I didn’t finish or PR or whatever. …..

“Man, I got the worst cramp at mile 10 and that was it…”
“Dude, I don’t know…. My leg was aching a bit and I just couldn’t pull it out….”

When the alarm goes off at 4am I have excuses galore for why I should miss my run or bike or swim; a whole laundry list of “good” reasons not to do my work out. No one would know anyways. But on race day, when it matters most, everyone will know. You can’t hide behind excuses and you have no choice but to bare your soul to the running gods. You either did the work or you didn’t. I have done both and I can tell you one felt a whole lot better than the other.

So for me, I relate everything in life back to that experience.

Work is tough? No big deal. Stay the course, persevere, find a way to get through it and reap the reward at the end.

Marriage a bit rocky? Welcome to mile 22 of marathon day. Are you going to drop out or keep putting one foot in front of the other?

Your heart is broken and you feel like you can’t catch a break? Aaaaaah the joys of a good speed workout. Sucks right now, your heart feels like it could explode but if you just keep pushing, it will end and you won’t die in the process.

Feel like the task ahead is insurmountable? Sounds like a hill run to me. Slow down, breathe deep, trudge on…. You’ll get there!

I used to make excuses all day long. I would blame shift or try to explain my way out of stuff. And then I started running. Running keeps you honest. You either do the work or you don’t. I tell people running saved me and I really believe that it did. It saved me from a life of underachievement. It saved me from giving up on dreams and hopes and ambitions. Running took away my fear of the unknown and gave me the courage close my eyes and take the plunge. You’ll only under-train for a marathon once. And then the memory of that day will follow you… Every time you think of an excuse you’ll remember that pain and humiliation. You might think you are tough but a 5K will let you know just how tough you aren’t.

Someone once told me “Life isn’t about surviving one storm after another. Life is about learning to dance in the rain.” So, put your rain boots on, I hear the music playing…….