So, I finally did it. I ran the Boston Marathon.

I qualified to run the marathon back on Decenber 20th of 2009 at the Jacksonville LaSalle Bank Marathon. At the time, running meant something very different to me than it means to me now. I ran to escape demons, I ran from my problems, I ran to avoid life. Since that day, my life has changed drastically and I have changed, as well. One year, 3 months, and 28 days later, I stood at the starting line to the Boston Marathon not sure what to expect from my mind, from my body, from the course...

In all the races I have ever run, of any distance, I have never trekked to the start line solo and stood in the mass of people virtually alone. As Mark put me on the bus out to Hopkinton, I was all too aware that failure was looming in front of me. I did not train for this race..... We had been vacationing for five days prior..... I had tasted every beer in New England..... I ate indian food for the first time the night before(I Know, I know!)..... I had no fuel with me..... I had never practiced waking up at 5 am to run at 10:20..... I was wearing a brand new shirt.....I had no idea where Mark might be on the course, if he could even get there at all. At best, I hoped to make it to mile 10 before the death march began (or the violent stomache pains...indian food...). As I waved one last time to Mark, I felt the tears welling up in my eyes. I was already losing. Every fear of failure that ever existed was creeping into my head.

Maybe I really have grown as a person? Maybe finally being willing to share not only my joys, but my collosal failures with the people around me has truly changed me? Maybe surrounding myself with a group of friends and a wonderful boyfriend who not only challenge me daily but love me unconditionally has really made a ton of difference? All I know for sure is that, my mental heckling did no more than scratch the shiny surface of my armor. I was here, and dammit this was going to be an awesome day. No matter what the outcome, I could either choose to submit and be miserable or I could put a grin on my face and remember that I could never again relive this day. So, I set a new goal.
"You will smile every step of the way. No matter what happens, a smile will be on your face and you will take in everything this day has to offer. Period" And that became my mantra for the day.

I smiled the entire way. I looked like a moron, essentially. But you know what? I had a damn good time and I took mental pictures that will never ever fade from my memory. I didn't log my best time ever, but I wasn't far off and I have never had more fun running a race in all my years of racing. I walked away from the Boston Marathon with a renewed confidence. I have no doubt in my mind that had I let the fear of failure creep into my mind, I would have ended up walking; I would have ended the race miserable. Not because my body couldn't do it, but because my own mind wouldn't let me.

I say all of that to say this:

If you are not failing at something, you are not challenging yourself. And if you are seeing that failure as a reason to stop moving forward, you are missing the big picture. I haven't always known this. As a matter of fact, I still don't know this every day. It is hard to remember in the face of adversity that every outcome has a purpose in your life. I look back over a lifetime of seeming "failures" and I see it differently these days. I see that I was brave enough to not stand still for one second, to not be paralyzed by impossibility. I see that I never have and (Godwilling) never will settle for "just ok." I would be stupid not to see that just this change in perspective isn't yet another blessing in my life. I would be even stupider not to mention that Super Mark and all the wonderful people that challenge me with new perspective every single day have been a driving force in shaping me. And for that, I am supremely grateful. Even with all the contentment I have finally found, I hope I never find a day where I am willing to stop striving for more out of life.

Super Mark sent me this link yesterday:
http://tynan.com/gettingbetter

It's a great post about challenging life and constantly striving to be a better person :-)

Live like you are dying...

I woke up this morning at 3:50 am. Yes, I know..... it's ridiculous. But Isabella (my 9 mos. old lab) insisted it was time to run and who am I to argue with that sweet little face? So, I laced it up and headed out into the darkness. Now, you might find this shocking, but at 4:20 am on a Saturday morning there is not much action and it's quite easy to find yourself within your head.

My family is always onto me about running alone in the dark. I know it is warranted, but I just never really give it a thought.

Izzy and I started out at a breakneck pace into the dark (she has yet to learn the art of pacing).
Around mile 3, I passed a man just standing on the sidewalk and it occured to me that if today was the day that the stars aligned, it could be over in a matter of seconds... I didn't feel afraid or worried or anything, just very aware of the fact that not a second of life is guaranteed. And that awareness made me start assessing how I feel about the way I live my life. Right now, there is a popular song out that says to "live like you are dying." I've always considered myself a person that lived this way because I never "wish" I could do something. I simply do it. I have zig-zagged all over the map "living life to the fullest." Don't get me wrong. It has led to a lot of really fun experiences and a ridiculous number of "fish stories" that get retold again and again. It recently became clear to me, though, that just doing all the things I want to do isn't living like I am dying. That's only one facet of a much bigger picture. The other parts are a whole lot scarier.

As I think about the self exploration and life reflection I have done in the last 3 months, the common theme is a lack of vulnerability and a complete inability to just accept everyone I meet for who they are, where they are in life, and without any expectation that they will ever be anything other than what they are right this moment. Yet another hard truth in a long line of hard truths about myself. I have neither loved people well, nor have I been loveable because I was so afraid of who I was inside that I couldn't let people see the real me, love the real me. And, in response, I have loved people with great caution and reservation assuming that they too must be hiding their true self.

It occured to me that if I were to die, I would never have known what it feels like to be fully loved or to love fully. As I have traveled through the last 3 months, I have discovered how much more fulfilling life can be when you begin to truly embrace all the special people in your life and then allow them to embrace you. As I write this, I feel full inside. The emptiness and darkness that has haunted me for a lifetime is gone. My heart is bursting with the experience and sensation of basking in the love that has been available all along. Equally, I am shocked by how fulfilling it is to truly love people in return. Sure, I feel vulnerable. Its scary to tell people how much they mean to you, how special they are. Its even scarier to be truthful and honest about your own thoughts, feelings, and needs. EXPOSING!

It has been so amazing to know that the important people in my life can truly know me and still come back for more...

So, here I am. This is me. I am more ok with that than I have ever been. I am enjoying people like I never thought possible. And I now know what it means to "live" and "love" like you are dying...

Who is a runner?

Last Saturday, July 4th, when the rest of the world was sleeping in, sunning at the beach, drinking ice cold beer and strawberry daquiris, or simply enjoying ginormous hamburgers, ice cream, apple pie and all the other tasty summer treats, I was pounding the pavement. I wasn't alone, though. Nope. Nine other silly triathletes decided to join me as I endeavored on an unsupported Olympic distance triathlon right here in sunny Lakeland, FL. We jumped right off the dock into a lake and swam 1 mile (gators be damned!), then hopped on the bikes and rode through the streets of Lakeland, and ended with a sweaty 6 mile run in the heat of the day. It was great and honestly, I really don't think I would have preferred to do anything else that day. But, thinking back over it makes me consider the running and triathlon community a bit. Maybe it's just Lakeland or maybe it's running communities in general.... I suppose it could also be the way I speak so convincingly of the fun of torturous endeavors or stupid human feats and thus recruit poor souls to do things with me. Whatever it is, I love being part of a community of people who are so in tune with the ideas of challenge, perseverance, personal sacrifice, and of course reward for a job well done (that would be the beer garden after a race)!

It's interesting to me that after high school suddenly the lines between the cool people and the dorks get a little murky and people redistribute themselves into new groups and even multiple groups based on anything from religion to sport to a love of some weird computer game. Running is one of those groups that seems boundless in regards to age, gender, nationality, ability....really, any limit at all. In one week, I may share the road with someone more than twice my age or someone who worships differently than me. I could race next to a landscaper, a doctor, or even a stay at home mom. And here's the best part! At the end, when we all stand around drinking water or Gatorade (or BEER!!!), we can talk endlessly about a common ground that unites us in some weird brotherhood. I know that every person standing there was once a beginner. I know they have all tried and failed. I know they all have accomplished something that satisfies them on a personal level like nothing else. We may never talk about it, but you can see it in the twinkle of an eye. It is apparent in the finishing moment when you see the pain on their faces contort to a smile so full of life and accomplishment. And you understand. You've been there.

I love running. I love everything about it. But I really love runners.

The Ultimate Finisher's Medal

Sunday, April 26th at 1:45pm I had to put Roxy down. It was the most surreal and amazing experience, and yet somehow, it was one of the sweetest moments I have ever experienced...

The tumor began bleeding Saturday night and by Sunday morning it was uncontrollable. I called my friend, Donna, who is a veterinarian and local triathlete, in hysterics. Donna is one of those people who prances right into your life, fills you with joy, and lets you know what friendship is all about. She is an admirable athlete, a spunky woman, an amazing veterinarian and absolutely adorable at 8 months pregnant. I could hate her if I didn't love her to pieces! I am not a person to ask for help and it took me hours to decide to make the call. Donna was in Bradenton and without question packed up her stuff and headed home, texting me for comfort the whole way.

I knew when I made the call it was the beginning of the end. I knew my minutes with my best friend were numbered and precious. Roxy and I went out under the tree in the front yard and sat together and "talked." Her fur was matted with blood and my clothes weren't much better. It's funny to me that in moments like that it always seems like things around you are sensationally clear. The sun is brighter, the wind is perfect, the sounds are thunderous and the colors are magnified. As we sat under the tree, Roxy let her head fall back and the breeze tugged at her ears. She leaned into me and sighed. It was a big sigh- contentment, peace, happiness, satisfaction- but it was a tired sigh. We lay under the tree just letting the memories and moments of our life together swirl around us and then, like a single body moving together, we got up and headed to the truck. It was time.

Roxy was never afraid.
She licked my hand until her last breath, reassuring me, giving of herself even in her last moments.

I feel a little lost this week. There is a warmth in my home that is missing and a bit of a struggle within to know that I am ready to travel the road without my sidekick. I seem to be floundering for something to prove my own vitality and longevity. Roxy never held a grudge, she never pointed out my flaws, and there was never a question of forgiveness. She was what I only hope I can become. I want to love my friends unconditionally and accept them even with their flaws. I want to be patient and kind and leave behind a wake of reassurance and hope. I want to explore and play, but always remember how to get home.

It is almost exactly eleven years ago that Roxy forced herself into my life and now I am on my own. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just a little apprehensive...

"But ask the animals, and they will teach you, or the birds of the air, and they will tell you; or let the fish of the sea inform you. Which of these does not know that the hand of the Lord has done this?In his hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind"
Job 12: 7-10