Look Out San Diego Here I Come!

I leave today for my marathon weekend in San Diego. You can keep up with me on the race website: www.rnrmarathon.com. They'll post Live Results as I pass certain mile stones!

Thanks to everyone who contributed, both financially and emotionally. I wouldn't be going if it weren't for you!

Keep an eye out for a post-race report with pictures.

Bolder Boulder

I joined 53,000 runners in the largest timed footrace in the US this morning. It was so fun. A great race experience before I run the marathon on Sunday. I paced myself well, never got out of breath, hydrated methodically. I feel really prepared for San Diego.

http://raceday.onlineraceresults.com/individual.php?bib=HD306

It was also really fun to see so many Boulderites up and at it so early to support their friends and neighbors in the run. Thanks Boulder for hosting such a fantastic event! Oh, and the goody bags were like opening Christmas presents - I even got an orange in the bottom of my "stocking."

Post Number 100

Good news at a small milestone:

1) Yesterday I was offered a full-time permanent position at the law firm where I've been working as a part-time temp since December. I start June 5.

2) June 7, I'll be moving out of my parents' house to stay in a loft downtown (rent free!). It's only for 6 weeks, but I hope by the end of that time to have found my very own apartment.

3) This time next week I'll be in San Diego preparing to run the Rock n' Roll Marathon and making up for lost time with an old friend.

4) Thanks to Whitney (the best friend ever), I won't even have to shell out my entire life's savings to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society to meet the fundraising goal and actually get to the race I've been training for since February.

Good things are happening! It's really hard to use words to express the level of elation I'm experiencing right now.

Questions

I had an unusual experience the other day at the grocery store.

As I was waiting in line to check out the cashier was chatting quite passionately with the couple in front of me about Star Wars and something about the balance of power within the Force. I rolled my eyes and picked up the latest Vogue - apparently I would be waiting a while to pay for my few items. When the cashier finished his conversation and the couple left, he greeted me: "Hello, did you find everything you were looking for today?"
"Yes, thank you," I replied curtly.
"Would you like your questions today?"
"My questions?" I asked. "You mean that you ask me questions?"
"Exactly."
"Uh, okay, sure."
Then he launched into a series of questions reminiscent of a "Choose Your Own Adventure" novel: "underwater or outerspace?"
"Underwater," I answered quickly, remembering the Star Wars conversation that occured not so long ago in a galaxy just like ours.
"Whales or Sharks?"
"Whales."
"Blue Wales or Sperm Wales?"
"Blue Wales."
"The Mariana Trench or the Puerto Rico Trench?"
"Uh, I don't really know much about those," I responded warily.
"Okay, History or Science?" he continued undaunted. (By this time my groceries had been scanned, weighed, bagged and paid for).
"History."
"Ancient or Medieval?"
"Ancient."
"Egyptian or Greek?"
"Greek."
"Would you rather be a new-born baby or an elderly person?"
"Uh, I guess an elderly person."
"Why?"
"I think elderly people were more respected in Ancient Greek culture than infants were."
"So you would choose your destiny based on what other people think of you?"
"Wait, what? No, I just think that once you've had so many experiences, you can really be happy, you have more control over how you live." I smiled, satisfied with my spontaneous burst of articulation.
"Do you know a lot of happy old people?"
"No, I know a lot of grumpy old people."
"Why do you think that's the case?"
"I think they probably feel like they don't get the respect they deserve."
"Okay, have a nice day!" He excused me with a nod.

I was at the gym the other day and I noticed an elderly couple moving slowly up and down a set of stairs. The gentleman had a walker at the bottom of the steps and his wife held one arm while he supported himself on the rail with his other arm. After one assencion and decension they moved ever so slowly to the rowing machine where the woman helped her feeble husband lower himself onto the seat and complete several repetitions. Watching them reaffirmed my answer to the clerk at the grocery store. I would rather be an old lady helping my life partner complete an exercise routine than a crying infant any day.

Don't Tell Me

I really hate it when people tell me I can't do something. My response is usually not "I'll show them," and go out and do it. My response has always been one of defeat, one of "they're probably right, I'm terrible at that." But lately I let people know that they're wrong - maybe not wrong about my ability, but wrong to discourage me in such a manner. I will determine what I can and cannot do, what I am good at, and what I am not so good at. I know my strengths and weaknesses, and I will embrace my talents and improve my flaws.

Running Woman

In less than two weeks I'll be running the Rock n Roll Marathon in San Diego. While I'm thrilled to be competing in an elite event, there are so many remaining obstacles. I really just want to run a good race (in four hours or less). Right now, getting there is the hardest part.


 

I finished the Platte River Half-Marathon about two months ago with a group of women I've been training with.

Semi-deep Thoughts and Dirty Little Secrets

If you know me very well, or if all you know of me is from reading this blog, you have probably figured out that I am a bit of a mystic. I believe that God communicates to us in many different ways; through orchestrated circumstances, a chance encounter, a timely rainbow, an insightful conversation, and as I've experienced lately, through yoga. In a nutshell, I believe that all truth comes from God and He communicates that to us in the most effective, personal way.

I've been taking yoga classes fairly regularly now for the last couple months and the results have been great - not what I expected, but good nonetheless. I haven't gotten the Jennifer Aniston body, but I have limbered up a bit, gained some strength and learned a few things.

On Sundays the instructor sets a theme or an intention for our 90 minute session. It's become a more spiritually invigorating practice than church has been lately. I was actually very overwhelmed as I walked home after class yesterday. I've been thinking a lot how we know God's will and how I find truth, how I know and understand God and His plan for me. The struggle for me in this is that I've been taught that knowing God is a rules-based relationship; a list of dos and don'ts. There have been times when I've felt close to God but it always had something to do with me believing that I was following the rules and thus was allowed to enjoy God's presence. I get so weary of always trying to do what I'm supposed to do and I allow myself little room for error. My brother commented the other day that I give him such a hard time because I have such high expectations for myself. That's a whole other conversation though. But I do set really high goals, try hard for a while to accomplish them, and when I don't see the expected results within a month or two, I give up. Then once I've had time to recover and I'll give it another shot. On either side I go all out. When I'm committed, I'm all the way there. When I'm not, I'm really not, verging on self-destructive. To get back to the point, I'm tired of thinking of my relationship with God in terms of following a set of rules and performing specific duties, then feeling guilty and giving up when I slip up.

So I was thinking about it as I walked home yesterday and I was overwhelmed by the understanding that God communicates love to me in a very personal way. It was a gorgeous day, the sun was shining on my face, the breeze played with my hair and cooled my skin, birds sung among the rustling leaves around me. It was almost like a love song written to me; I accepted and enjoyed it.

I think a few years ago I would have cringed at this discussion because I was so concerned with what I assumed to be right, with what other Christians perceived as right. I shyed away from yoga classes, and more generally a relative view of religion, because I thought it might expose me to some dangerous Eastern religious philosophy that would inhibit my ability to know God and Truth. More than that, I think I was scared that my religious friends would chastise that behavior. I was curious though and needed some help loosening up (physically and emotionally) So instead, I bought a Yoga DVD and did it at home, alone, and hid it when I was done. It was my little secret. In fact I have many of these secret behaviors that are quite harmless, but I hide them anyway. For example, I have no idea why I impulsively lie about cutting or coloring my hair. I'll change something about my appearance, someone will pay me a compliment, and without missing a beat I act as though I have no idea what they're talking about and pretend as though I've always looked this way. Why do I do that? It's stupid, petty, insecure, but it's become a natural reaction. Perhaps I don't want people to know that I'm vain.

Taking classes in yoga is one way I'm starting to do what I want to do. I hope it lends me some bravery to conquer some other irrational fears. I'm really getting sick of letting my fear of how others might react have any weight in my decisions. I've always envied people who could live uninhibited. I'm not throwing wisdom or discernment out the window, I just want to allow myself the freedom to pursue things that interest me, regardless of what anyone else might think.

T-minus 22 Days

I had the realization today that 3 weeks isn't much time before I'll be running the longest distance I've ever run, in a city I've never been with thousands of people I don't know. I wouldn't say I'm stressed about it, but the all the unknowns make me a bit anxious. I have my flight plan, a hotel reservation, a map, good shoes, solid training, the know-how to finish, really there's nothing to worry about. There's this small voice that utters all the "worst-case-scenarios" in the back of my mind. It makes me wish my Dad was going with me. He always makes those fears go away.

I'm running nearly 23 miles - 3 1/2 hours; just under my hopeful marathon time. I want to finish in 4 hours or less. I think once I get this training run under my belt I'll feel a lot better about the whole thing.

My strength is really not in the anticipation or planning of an event, but in the actual execution. I know that, just like everything else, I'll pull it together in the end and it all turn out beautifully.

Your hopes and prayers are much appreciated. Thanks for your support thus far!

Embarrasing Story of the Day

If you've been keeping up with your reading, you know that I went out with a guy almost two weeks ago. I haven't heard much from him since so I've started to wonder what I did wrong or what's wrong with him, etc. He was scheduled to do system maintenance on the computer network at the law firm where I work today. So I did what all girls do when she sees a guy she likes but feels rejected by: look hot and act cool.

After class this morning I rushed home to get ready for "work." I put on a pot of coffee before I jumped in the shower. Mind you I gave up coffee at the beginning of the year and haven't had more than half a cup or so since. Once I had washed, shaved, plucked, styled, dried, moisturized, fluffed and primped as much as time permitted, I gulped my four cups of coffee (now just warm after sitting for 30 minutes), changed shirts twice, and dashed out the door.

About half-way to work I remembered why I gave up coffee. While I may try to convince everyone that it was for health reasons, really it's about vanity; coffee makes me sweat profusely.

I got to work, settled in to my desk and went through my daily routine, only much faster than usual and with trembling hands. The coffee jitters were setting in, the moisture under my arms was increasing and I had another realization: in all my grooming and fussing I had forgotten to put on deodorant.

Forty-five minutes later, I'm sweating like a 300 pound man in a polyester jumpsuit, and I'm pretty sure I smell like on too. I excused myself to the ladies room and once I'm in the safety of a locked stall, I pulled off my sweater, fanned my armpits and tried to soak up the excess moisture off my sweater with toilet paper. Once dressed I returned to my desk and tried to calm myself down.

No less than five minutes later, he walked in. "Hi," I said in the most even tone I could muster, just briefly looking up from my computer screen.

"Hey there," he said, leaning over me. "How are you?"

"Fine, how are you?" I looked into his face, and as I spoke I reached up to push back my hair, revealing a still-wet armpit with toilet paper stuck to my sweater.

I still haven't gotten that second date.