Running Partners

I am what my friends affectionately refers to as a "Running Whore." I know, I know, it's not nice. As a matter of fact, it actually sounds quite mean but I assure you, if you know my friends, it is not. There is really not much I can say back to him when he says this because in all honesty, it is the truth.

"Hello. My name is Rebecca and I have a problem. I will run with anyone, at any time of day, and pretty much anywhere."

This is one of the big things I notice can be quite different between men and women when it comes to running. Women will run with just about anyone they can at any time of day. I know exactly who to call if I need to start at 4 am and who will sweat it out in the sun at lunch and who will force me to do it later in the evening. I know who to call when I need a speedwork session and who will do the hills and even who will go run next to me on the treadmill. Women will also compromise and make sacrifices in order to run with their friends, something men do not generally do.

I think it begins with the fact that women really "shouldn't run alone." While it is perfectly acceptable for a man to run at some ungodly hour all by his lonesome, us being the fairer, more delicate, and generally less hairy sex makes us a bit more desireable to the meanies of the world. At least once a week, I leave Brian behind and me and the dog, Sophie, go meet the girls for some Girl Running. I love this time because Girl Running rarely has an agenda. We have really no pace in mind, we can stop and stretch or use the bushes as needed, we rarely have anyone in the group who farts or blows snot-rockets, and we talk non-stop the whole time. Yes, the WHOLE TIME. We've laughed, we've cried, we've shared secrets and heartaches and stories and memories and scandals... and we've done all this before 6 am! Such multi-taskers, us women! This is nothing like when men run (or ride) together where the testosterone begins flowing before their heart rate evens gets elevated and the whole effort is 100% and they talk about how easy it is and pound their chests and finally come home and whine the rest of the day about how bad they hurt. You know what I am talking about, I know you do.

I have some of the best running partners a girl could ever want. I love each of them dearly and they have saved me from myself more time than they will ever know. I remember the morning after I found out my baby was dying, my friend Betsy met me at some ungodly hour (5 am, I think) in 40* weather to go biking. It could have possibly been the worst workout ever, EVER I tell you! But, never once did Betsy or the others even speak of turning around. It wasn't an option. They knew better than me that just as the cold was numbing my fingers and toes, the ride was numbing my brain and giving me the freedom to let my mind be still, just for a moment. I will never forget that ride. Had I been in a good frame of mind, I would have been the first to suggest we just go back and get pancakes. But that day, I needed to ride. And my friends suffered so I could. I have really really good friends.

Moms and Daughters....

Moms and Daughters are a funny sort of thing. I don't really get the relationship and its dynamic and I don't know that I ever will but, I strive to look at most things from both sides. Here's the thing: Moms love their daughters....a lot. I get that. Daughters love their mothers....a lot. Yet the two drive each other nuts in a way that is both unique and completely exasperating. You are magnetically drawn to each other and at the same time push against each other like opposite sides of a magnet. My mom and I are very similar in many ways and completely different at the same time and perhaps therein lies the dynamic. I'm not sure.
What I am sure about is that no one will ever be sure and I think you have to really work to make the relationship well or you look back at wasted energy and arguments that really solved nothing. I never knew how much my mom really must love me until I lost my baby. I had never even held it and yet every cell in my body ached at the loss. It was amazing. My mom was with me at the ultrasound when the doctor told me the baby was dying. How horrible. But, even through my tears, I found it interesting that Mom didn't know whether to hug me or leave me alone. She didn't know whether to talk or just be quiet. My mother of 28 years had no idea what to do. In that long span while we sat there I pondered this thought and realized that every time she ached for me, I pushed her away. Cruel, huh? And now when all I wanted was for her to wrap her arms around me, she just didn't even know if it was the right thing to do. Moms and daughters are a funny thing.
Mom took up running a year or two ago. She started easy and I helped her plan how to train and what to do each day. I thought it was a passing thing. Mom finished her first marathon this year at 55 years old. She's a tough cookie, that mom. There's a lot I didn't know about my mom, really. I didn't know she could be so focused. I didn't know she could push herself and accomplish a big goal. I didn't know she could overcome the aches and pains and keep going. I should have known.... she raised me after all.
Things are a little different between Mom and me now. We have each had the chance to view each other in a new light. We still do the Mom and Daughter dance but it's different now. We don't always see eye to eye and we never will. But, in reality, it's not so important that our eyes match up because our hearts do....

This is the blog of my Journey to the center of SELF. My company, SELF Concepts, has been in development for a year and has finally launched! As I developed the company, I had to look into my heart and decide exactly who I was and what I wanted to bring to other people. Seems easy right? Nope. Life has been an interesting and curvy road for me with lots of lessons that were both hard and humbling. These tough lessons have shaped my life and really brought into perspective exactly what I want my life to be about and who I want to be for others.
This past January I had a miscarriage at 11 weeks-- an experience that ripped through my very core and changed my direction in a matter of moments. Suddenly, everything about my life seemed silly. Just motions, without direction or feeling. The one constant that carried me through was my running. Most mornings, my I wake up by 4:30 am to slog through the streets of Lakeland, FL; Sometimes I go with friends, sometimes just me. The dog is almost always attached to her pink, paw-print leash and I always giggle to myself when I catch myself talking to her. Running is my time. Running is my freedom, my safety, my constant. I run when I am angry or sad. I run when I am happy and I feel promise all around. I run to appointments, to visit friends. Running is one of God's greatest gifts and I embrace it for everything it has to offer.
So, my Journey to the Center of SELF has begun and I am off and, well, running. I intend to change my town. I intend to change people's lives.

http://www.selfconceptslakeland.com/