Swimming. (Dragging baggage into the pool…)

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Wade and I, 2014 Pacific Crest. He did the Triathalon. I did the Duathlon. WHY?  Because I chickened out of the Tri AFTER Wade signed up.  Three words:  Open. Water. Swim.

‘I can’t swim.’

One day about 18 months ago I was telling my dad that my friends Joe and Josh did Ironman events.  I admire the hell out of those two and I admitted that I was kinda-sorta wanting to do an Ironman too…

I was telling my dad that I wanted to do one, but it would never happen because I just can’t swim. I have never been able to do more than dog paddle and float.

My dad waited about 3 days. Then we had this conversation (and yes – it was one-sided)…

Bets. I’ve been thinking about something you said.

It’s total bullshit.

You can learn to swim just like you learned to run and bike and control diabetes and lose weight.

Quit saying you can’t and *&^%ing figure out a way to learn how.

All righty then…

Being called out by my dad started me on a stop-n-go journey.

My friend Drew gave me the name of a well respected swim coach.

I didn’t call for 3 months.

Finally called and took things no further.

Then purposefully forgot about it all and figured — HEY, I’d called a swim coach. That was at least ONE step in the right direction… Right?


Spencer and I gave our Novo Veritas presentation this past March.  After the presentation a guy walked up to chat.

He said…

‘I’m Troy.  You may not remember, but you called me about being your swim coach, a long time ago…  You ready to start lessons?’

Gulp.

Truth?  I’m SCARED of the water.

Mostly I’m scared of trying to breath and having water nearby.  Like ANYWHERE near my face.

I finally told Troy about this near-phobia I have with water as a way of lamely explaining why I had never followed through the first time I contacted him about lessons.

He assured me he would be able to help me learn to swim.

The part I didn’t tell him?  I have body image issues; big time. To say that I am not thrilled about being in a swimsuit in front of ,oh — ANY OTHER HUMAN BEING — is a bit of an understatement. And then there’s this whole NEW learning curve that involves using my body for something athletic (did I mention this has to be done in a swimsuit?) and someone was going to be watching me…

Let’s just say I knew full well that I would be dragging a ton of baggage with me into the pool.

I called Troy. We set up a time to get swim lessons started.  I was ridiculously nervous for DAYS before the first lesson.

We’re on swim lesson #11 right now.

And LORD is this man a patient coach and teacher.

I get frustrated with myself when I don’t learn things instantly or see profound progress.  I’m battling consistently present fear.  Some of my  good friends can tell you, I’m a peach when I’m embarrassed, scared or frustrated with myself.  Just trust me — if you don’t know me very well — Troy really is approaching sainthood to have hung in with me this long. 🙂

For weeks I was literally having panic attacks/hyperventilating on the freestyle swim.  EVEN though I can literally put my feet on the bottom of the pool at any given moment, anywhere in the lap pool.

While I’m still battling some fear about breathing/water…

Even I have to admit that it is getting much better.

I’m actually gaining some confidence in the water.

I told Troy after the 4th or 5th lesson ‘I think the life guards are finally looking a little more relaxed when I’m in the pool.’ 🙂


Friday’s lesson was a really good one for me mentally.

Troy and I had a good conversation during my lesson when I arrived at the end of a lap still struggling with breathing and gasping for air…

You just have to get comfortable with the learning…

Yes.  This is about learning. Not just about swimming.  Huh.  I felt like a lightbulb finally clicked ON!

While I have to figure out how to stay calm and remember ALL of the things I’m supposed to be doing to move in the water, Troy’s main point was that I need to simply appreciate the process of learning something new.

Get comfortable – once again – with the bumps and bruises and non-linear flow and FUN of LEARNING.

Give myself a small measure of grace for simply facing my fears and really trying to learn to swim.

Give myself some forgiveness for getting one thing right even if I get 5 things wrong.

Give myself a dose of patience for learning a new skill, while keeping up my other training.

Laugh at and WITH myself as I learn.

Troy has been trying to help me enjoy the process ALL along. I was too blind to the mechanics of a totally new sport and my avid fear of the water to see what he has REALLY been trying to teach me until this past week.

So after talking to Troy I spent the weekend thinking about a few things.  Namely that I really want to focus on embracing and LOVING the process of learning.

I LOVED learning how to run. I LOVED learning how to control blood sugars successfully and how to ride a bike and how to do a sit up.  I struggled in the moment and I certainly hated parts of those processes, but the deep sense of accomplishment you get when you really understand and learn a new skill is something I seem to have forgotten all about.


I told Troy from the very start of our lessons that I had big goals…

  • I want to do an Ironman.
  • I want swimming in my ‘tool kit’ for cross-training.
  • I want to be able to throw swimming in for cardio should I sustain a running or biking injury.

And yet what I told Troy I wanted MOST from learning to swim?

I really want to be one of those sassy and funny 90-year old ladies rocking the swim cap, confident in her swimsuit and kicking everyone’s ass in a slow, soothing, methodical, lap-fest that last for hours.

What fear are you working to conquer?

Faux fears and the next big thing…

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Happy chance meeting! Finding friends on the trails. Out for various training runs. (L-R, Brandon, Laura (holding Patch), Drew, Spencer, me, Ana Lu and Carlos)

My favorite question?

‘What’s the next big event/race/running thing you have planned?’

First?  I LOVE talking about running and moving and being healthy. Anyone’s running, anyone’s passion for activity, anyone’s healthy. 🙂

Second?  I totally get a kick out of people associating me with running. Totally.  It will never get old.  For the longest time I denied it; I knew runner-runners.  Like, you know — the fast, sleek, athletic people?; it was not me. And that’s ALL I thought running was.  Now?  I realize the world of running accommodates anyone. Anyone.  If you put on shoes with the intent of going for a run; you’re a runner. I LOVE being able to identify with this group of diverse, brave, determined people.

I was at a gala this past week and talking with people I only see periodically.  We were having great conversations about life!  They all eventually asked me what’s up next event-wise.

‘So what crazy run do you have next?’

I answered the questions about a dozen times.

And that repetition of my own answer got me thinking…

The running and training that I do is not entirely for events.

Really.

If I strip it down and examine the whole process and my motivation/desire…  It’s not really for the events at all.  I wanted to tell them about some of the other great things I’m doing that aren’t event related…  Like trying to learn to swim.  Finding new trails. Finally figuring out fueling.

Don’t get me wrong.  I love events.  I’m a people person. OF course I like the event portion of this whole process. The event is really the celebration, the party!  The culmination of months of training and running and miles and learning should be celebrated.

And while I am not doing races to be competitive, I care DEEPLY and totally about doing my best and being as prepared as possible.  I’m doing events and races to meet people, have fun, see new terrain, challenge myself to a new adventure and test my limits/strength.

So then why exactly do I train and spend hours each week running/biking and working out if it isn’t to go to races?

I’ll let you peek at my current goals…

  • To be fit. (Fit feels so, so DAMN good.)
  • Enjoy ALL of the life that I have left to live.
  • Be ready for the next grand adventure.
  • I don’t want my fitness (or lack of…) to stand in the way of life.  At all.  It did.  For too many YEARS.  No more.

That list above, that is why I run and train and work on getting fit.

It really isn’t as simple or straightforward as just being ready for the ‘next big thing’.

Unless that next big thing is LIFE. 🙂


I’ve been picking harder and more robust challenges for the last two years.  I mean, I have been working hard and staying focused and building up to them.  They are challenges that terrify and fascinate me all in the same breath.  50K, learning to swim, 50 miles and beyond…

Part of the reason I keep picking bigger and bigger things to train for is pretty simple and obvious if you think about it…

I’m afraid.

I made a deal with myself almost 4 years ago that I would force myself to give anything that I thought I was afraid of (that wasn’t illegal, immoral or just super-dangerous…) a shot.

I wanted to see if I could teach myself to get over the fear. Feel the fear and do it anyway.  Trite saying; but at the same time a very true operating statement.  Could I face fears and go around/over them?

I wanted to form reality-based opinions of my own, not continue to be bound by the perceived boundaries of the past-me.

The answers to this point have been yes… I can (mostly) get over/around/beat-down the fear and get it done.  It may not be pretty, or well-done or even particularly smart.  In a few cases it left scars. 🙂

AND I am having a HELL of a lot of fun doing it!!!

I need to remind myself of all of that.

I need to remember just how much work I have done to get to this point, how many fears I’ve conquered…

A good friend recently called me out on my ‘fearful’ attitude.  I thought I had pretty much pushed fear to the edges of my life – and I thought it would stay there.  Turns out that fear is tenacious and strong-willed. (Sounds like me. 🙂 )  Trepidation, lack of confidence, self doubt, negativity; call it what you want — seems to be trying to creep back in…

The tell tale warning sign?  (this took me about two weeks to key-in on and discern…) I realized that when I am nervous about something, afraid or embarrassed that I might fail — I start a conversation with one simple word;

‘But…’

I’ve been catching myself using that sentence starter quite a few times these past few months.

‘But’ negates the entire comment.  It tells the listener that they don’t really have to believe anything you’re saying… Because YOU don’t really believe it yourself…

I have to kick the ‘but’s’ back out of my thinking and language.

Tackling fears is NOT linear or simple.  Nor is it ever a completed task. And that’s the lesson I’m working on learning.

There is the legit fear that we have to heed to stay alive and safe.

This isn’t that fear.

This is the fear that we allow to creep in at the edges, create boundaries, limit our work/dreams/goals and cripple our thinking.

I’m calling it my ‘faux fear’.

I am going to keep working, one step at a time, to show my faux fears the door…

What fears are you working to conquer?

Commencement Speaker at Gervais High School; Change is an option.

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Karie Hoffman, talked me into giving a commencement speech. And yes.. I’m wearing my running shoes. They were part of the speech AND they were the Gervais High School COLORS!

Gervais high School, Oregon.  June 6, 2015.

Did you know that there is a traditional and accepted form for a memorable commencement speech?

Seriously.

I Googled it.

Here’s the formula that they said would work…

‘Someone older than you, who, over the course of their life, has made a series of funny, memorable and perhaps even dreadful mistakes {that would be me}, gives heartfelt advice to a group of shining, energetic young people, with their best years of their life stretched out in front of them {that would be each of you}. ‘

I mean it has to be true and good advice – right??; it was on the internet.

I’m going to stick to the formula that Google says should work.

Plus I know full well that I am the ONLY thing standing between you, your diplomas, posting on Snapchat and Instagram. And your parents and loved ones are itching to post all of your baby pictures next to pics of you in your cap and gown all over FaceBook.

OH! ONE MORE THING! The ONLY other job I have, according to Google, is critically important and it is… to keep this sucker short.

In fact, the shorter the better.

So here is my short and heartfelt advice for each of you…

Change is ALWAYS an option.

No matter how old, young, worn out, successful or stuck you may feel in your life…

Change is ALWAYS an option.

You will walk out of here today thinking you know where your life will take you. I can tell you, as many here could surely do the same, that it may or may not go as you have planned.

Changes are part of life. And they can happen TO you. Disasters, circumstances, events – those can all force us to HAVE to accept changes in our lives.

But that’s NOT the change I want to talk about today.

I want to talk about the change YOU enact, YOU embrace.

The change YOU make happen.

There are the all kinds of stories of famous people who started off in one field or endeavor and then JUST CHANGED. They woke up one day, decided they would straight-up chase their dreams down and change their lives.

Walt Disney was an editor at a newspaper. He left to start and build the empire we now know as Disney.

Ellen Degeneres was an oyster shucker and paralegal. She changed directions and hit it big as a comedian and is now a top-rated and beloved entertainer.

And then there are much, much more humble stories of life change.

Like mine.

{You know the older person who is supposed to have done something funny, memorable or made a dreadful mistake in their life… }

I weighed well over 200 pounds when I was in high school.

I graduated as the heavy girl. I have ALWAYS been the heavy girl. I had some solid, good friends, enjoyed high school.  I will be honest and say that I was bullied and made fun of a bit for being the big girl.

I went on to college. I was the heavy girl in college as well. I loved College, got decent enough grades and had a great circle of friends who loved to eat and drink.

I started my professional career as – you guessed it – the heavy girl. Although, truth be told, by my late 20’s and early 30’s using the word ‘heavy’ was just being kind. I was fat. Medically speaking I was obese, morbidly obese.

By my mid 30’s I was close to 400 pounds. I was taking 3 shots a day for type 2 diabetes, I was insulin dependent and taking a ton of prescription medicines.

Now…

Some of you sitting here today really want to ask me why ANY of these already mentioned sets of circumstances was not the tipping point for me making some serious life changes…

{PAUSE…  Breath…}

{Quietly…)

Has anyone ever told you how to boil a frog?

Let me tell you…

(Please don’t try this at home…)

If you were to take a frog and try to dump him into a pot of boiling water he would jump right back out to freedom. Lightening quick. No hesitation. He would know he was in deadly danger and he would do whatever he had to to escape with his life.

Now take that same frog and put him in a pot of cold water. Set it on the stove and turn up the heat… The frog will stay in the water even to the point that it starts to boil… He gets used to the hot water over time, he adjusts to it – he acclimates to it. He doesn’t understand that his situation is killing him.

THAT is how you boil a frog.

{PAUSE…  Breath…}

I was the frog.

I spent my entire life fat. I was totally used to being fat. I didn’t gain the weight overnight. I had slowly and methodically put weight on over decades. And while I was slowly, but very surely dying, I was simply used to life as a fat woman.

This was my life.

I was the frog.

While I was happy and professionally successful, I was Type 2 diabetic who broke into a sweat walking into the grocery store. I could not tie the laces on my shoes because I couldn’t reach my feet. I had adapted, entirely, to life as a morbidly obese woman.

I had also convinced myself and (I thought I had convinced everyone else around me) of two important things.

{1} I was perfectly OK with my life as it was.

{2} I couldn’t change; the project was TOO big. Lose 220 pounds? Reverse type 2 diabetes. Those things just aren’t done…  And I had tried and failed at every possible diet on the planet…

July 2011 rolled around and there were a bunch of things that happened. My mom, and best friend, had died the year before. My diabetes was getting out of control – even with increased medicine. I had tripped, fallen and hurt my back.

I woke up and realized I really was fat and miserable.

July 2nd 2011 I decided that I was going to change.

I KNEW, knew I could have a totally different life than the one I had been leading…

KNEW it at my very core.

And I was willing to do the work to make it happen. 

The option to change was totally and entirely in my hands.

{Pause}

{READ fast…}

Did I have an exact plan?
Did I know what I was doing?
Did I know what to eat, how to start exercising, how to get off of insulin?

No.

Was I scared? Did I make mistakes? Did I think about quitting – like – oh 1,000,000 times?

Yes.

{Pause}

But I started anyway.

Blindly and wildly.

Because CHANGE was an option.

I started eating less and moving more.

And I kept at it.

Eating less and better quality foods. Like… A salad FULL of veggies instead of a large bag of doritios and a coke. THAT kind of eating better.

And moving more…. Like parking father out at the grocery store, or taking a flight of stairs. Things that actually made me work up a bit of a sweat.

And then things began to slowly change…

I had to learn new skills and I made plenty of sacrifices.

I found some new friends who ate healthy foods and liked to walk and hike and bike and run.

I had to start weaning myself off of insulin and other medicines.

The numbers on the scale started to drop.

The distances I walked started getting longer and longer.

And the exciting part?  

My story of change is STILL happening.

As I stand here today – one month short of 4 years on this crazy, wild adventure — I am NO LONGER type 2 diabetic. No longer taking any kind of medicine. I weigh about 165 pounds. I eat a healthy and balanced diet that is almost entirely plant based.

And – my favorite part of this whole story!!?! I am a runner.

The former fat girl from high school who would proudly and defensively tell people ‘I only run when chased’?  She now runs. 

I just ran two 50K’s in May. A 50K is a 32 mile trail events.

And I LOVE it.

In fact, this summer I plan to run a 50 mile race.

YES… – just for fun.  And NO… Not because anyone is chasing me.

In fact, I am wearing my trail running shoes today because they are your school colors.

(SHOW FOOT! And remember you are in a DRESS, on a STAGE…  Be a lady….)

I have worked hard to make lasting, life-long changes that would take me in a totally different direction.

I LOVE my healthy, non-diabetic, running life!

{PAUSE… Breath…}

Change is ALWAYS an option.

You may not need to hear or may not even understand this message right now when your young and exciting lives are unfolding in front of you with unlimited possibilities and new beginnings.

But some day, some day… You may be tired of editing a newspaper, or shucking oysters or being unhealthy…

And I am hoping that you will tuck this idea into the back of your brain. Know that at some point when your life hits a crossroads, or you wake up one day and simply and purely decide you want something different…

I hope you will remember that CHANGE IS possible and CHANGE IS AN OPTION.

One of my favorite quotes is by Rachel Wolchin…

{PAUSE.  Breath.}

If we were meant to stay in one place, we’d have roots instead of feet.” 

We have feet.

We are not stuck.

We CAN change.

Change is an option.

Tomorrow can always be an entirely different story than today.

Thank you for allowing me to join your celebration today!

Congratulations to the 2015 Graduating class of Gervais High School!

{Curtsey, wave and run off the stage.}

Western States Training Camp. Lessons and highlights.

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Erica, Spencer and I went down to Auburn California to be a part of the Western States Training Camp this past Memorial Day weekend.

We ran long, trail miles for 3 days in a row.

It was fantastic.

Life-changing.  (Not being cheesy. It really was.)

I loved every minute of it.

OK.  Maybe not every single moment.  (Lightening, snake, exhaustion, etc…) But the less than fun moments are some of the best teachers. Looking back less than a week later, I can tell you that I do love those less than happy/perfect moments.  Those hard/un-fun moments in particular are the ones that I plan to draw on, learn from and use to help make me a better person and stronger runner over time.

This was all about experimenting, taking some risks, learning and growing.

This was my first time running this kind of distance. There were some important lessons handed my way.

One category of lessons I would have to call ‘boring running crap’.  The other category is more along the lines of life lessons.


In the ‘boring running crap’ category I either learned or re-confirmed the following:

  • Good socks rock.  Wick moisture, protect your feet. They have a really hard job to do!  Buy good socks.
  • Shoes are your main ‘tool’. No new shoes on race day. (I did not pull that rookie move.) I was entering new territory with terrain and mileage and discovered that not all of my shoes work for the kind of running I like/get/want to do. (This means… SHOE SHOPPING! 🙂 )
  • Fueling. Huge thanks to Erica for her persistent help. We worked for many hours to figure out and practice timing/quality/quantity of fuel during runs.  When we got it mostly figured out/implemented on day three – I could TOTALLY tell the difference of having gotten it right. HUGE SUCCESS!
  • Compressions sleeves are magic and not just for recovery. This big-calfed girl is a new convert to wearing them WHILE running.
  • Chafing.  Boob chafe to be specific.  It is as miserable as it sounds.  I have no idea what got me; the heart rate strap, my bra, my hydration pack… Was WAY more careful day two and three to use body glide. Liberally. Everywhere. On everything. Body glide is cheap insurance.
  • Pooping and coffee. Both are important. BEFORE the race.
  • If there is a photographer on the course they will be a) at the most significant uphill portion where EVERYONE is struggling to even walk upright/uphill… b) when you chose to blow a world-class snot rocket or c) even if you are running and feeling like a million bucks the picture will show both feet planted firmly on the ground. 🙂

In the ‘life lessons on the trails’ category?

  • Study up on poisonous plants in the area you are running in so you don’t accidentally squat in a patch of something that will remind you for DAYS that you should have avoided it…  Just sayin’.
  • When you are offered water — take it.  Top off bottles and packs every chance you get.
  • NO better sight towards the end of a cold, soaking wet, lightening storm filled run than friends waiting at the nearest accessible trailhead to make sure you are OK… And being able to tell them you are OK. 🙂
  • When someone takes a moment to say hello, say hello back. The trails were FULL of cheery greetings and encouragements.  Every single runner I encountered was friendly. Be a positive part of these temporary communities that spring up during events on the public roads and trails.  Everyone wins.
  • Say thank you to ANYONE who spends their time to volunteer. For anything.  They’re giving up their time to help YOU.
  • Laughter calms nerves.
  • Share. If it won’t leave you in a bad spot; share what you have if someone needs it.  The kindness will be returned to you in some way, at some point.
  • Never pass up the chance to use a porta-potty.  Even if it’s on a trailer, hitched to a truck.  And the truck engine is idling. 🙂
  • Stop and take a picture of the things you are enjoying in life.  You aren’t in that big of a hurry.
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Proof that Erica and I ran on these historic and storied trails!
  • You (OK me….)  WILL have moments when you aren’t comfortable or don’t feel great or are scared or aren’t happy or you wonder WHAT you have gotten yourself into. Don’t judge the entire effort by ONE single moment.
  • Everyone (OK… me again…) should know some basic survival skills. Especially if they have a strong desire to spend their life running long distances in the woods. 🙂  (Lightening, snakes, poisonous plants, etc.)
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This little bandit slithered across the top of my foot as I was running (screaming!) past…
  • Watermelon is the best fruit in the world. Period.

Epic adventure.

Great weekend of learning in the safety of friends.

Memories made, miles run and training for some really big things this summer/Fall are now underway.

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Western States Training Camp. Lightening fast.

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Stepping onto the trail…  So excited to get running.

I had one of the most epic runs of my life (so far!) this past weekend.

And one of the most terrifying moments of my running life.

All in the same day.

The Western States Training Camp is an annual 3-day bonanza of trail running out of Auburn California.  It’s a practice event designed to help the runners learn the trails for the upcoming Western States Endurance Run.  It’s a historic 100-mile trail race that happens the end of June. http://www.wser.org

This camp is open to non-racing runners as well.  New, veteran, fast, slow — as long as you have a love for the sport and pay the registration fee; you are warmly welcomed. (Endurance run-nerds should really put this well-run, flawlessly supported camp on their bucket list.)

Spencer, Erica and I went down to run.  We’re all planning big events over the next few months and this was a great ‘kick-off’ training weekend. We ran 32 miles on Saturday, 18 miles on Sunday and 22 miles on Monday.  BIG miles.  Training, new terrain, friends.  ALL GOOD!

That’s the epic part. 🙂

Back to the terrifying part of the story.

The first morning we were bused up to Robinson Flat to start the run back to the Foresthill Elementary School. Spencer took off and ran when the buses unloaded. Erica and I took off after waiting in a long – female exclusive – line for the lone enclosed commode. We wanted one last hint of civilization. There would be plenty of time for ‘being one with nature’ the rest of the day. 🙂

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Running selfie, without wrecking. 🙂

So many stories I could tell about squatting in poison oak, missed turns, the beyond-annoying chatty-chick from Maryland that we all wanted to push off the nearest cliff, great micro-chats with fascinating people, snakes, active gold mines, abandoned cemeteries, botched water crossings… Blogs for another day. 🙂

We hit the last aid station at Michigan Bluff.  Mile 26. Close to done. We quickly stocked up on water and food (watermelon for me, PBJ for Erica!) and took off to put a time stamp on this sucker.

We’re around mile 29 and starting to get rained on.  BIG, wet drops of rain.

The weather forecast heading into the weekend had said 80 and clear.  It was 55 and rainy and starting to hail.  We joked about finding the weatherperson and having a ‘friendly’ conversation with them about their forecasting skills.

THUNDER.

Bright flash of light.

HOLY SMOKES.

We were half way between the aid station (which was a tent with METAL poles) and the finish. We’re soaked.  We’re cold. We’re on a semi-exposed, raised dirt road. Trees on either side.  A 3-strand barbed wire fence next to us…

Nowhere to hide.

We heard thunder again and breathed a little sigh of relief. We agreed it was moving away from us… Whew. No more lightening…

We kept moving.

Then about 15 minutes later the storm seemed to double back.

Startlingly bright flash of light and a thunder clap that we both insist was right over our heads. Loud enough you could feel it and it numbed your ear drums.

At this point we’re talking back and forth about what our best survival option is.  And we’re serious. We’re both nervous and not liking our situation and trying to figure out how to a) not freak the other one out and b) seriously get our butts off the exposed hill and down to the school. Alive.

We kept moving toward the school with the agreement that if it happened again we would stop to wait out the storm and make ourselves the smallest of possible targets away from big trees/obvious lightening rods.

We had a plan.  And that’s about the point when the hill crested and we were finally winding down off of the hill…

Slight sidebar in the story; on the descent with rain/thunder/lightening in the distance and moving away, we came upon a fellow trail runner essentially hugging a tree (WRONG THING TO DO!).  She said she was too scared to go on. Erica gently convinced her to get AWAY from the tree. The runner asked to follow us down the trail.  We kept moving. (In a karmic/comedic twist; the runner happens to be the beyond-annoying chatty-chick that we wanted to push off of several earlier cliffs… WHOLE other story.  Longest. Mile. Ever. Thankful my hearing was temporarily impaired from the thunder. Small blessing.)

We finally reached the forest gate and were about to hit paved road to head to the school.  Several cars were there at the trail; checking on runners they knew had to be up on the hill.  One of the cars pulling up was Spencer. He made sure we were OK and said ‘you guys want to get in the car or do you want to finish this thing?’

‘Finish the run.’

This entire sport, the endurance world, is about learning about and testing your limits and strengths and boundaries.  And then finding the mental fortitude to fight beyond all of your tiredness and fears and the other BS your brain creates to try to make you stop.  We aren’t just training to run; we’re training to make our minds tougher.  Pushing through the hard, ugly, imperfect stuff creates confidence and strength.  It help you understand and believe that just about anything is possible if you work hard enough, fight long enough.  It’s what I LOVE about this sport.  You don’t have to be fast or elegant or naturally talented or have a ton of money or have a certain body type.  You just have to be tough and persistent.

As we were briefly checking in with Spencer, I realized I was starting to shake from having been scared.  I KNEW that I didn’t want this to be the ending to this epic running adventure. Come within a mile of the finish line and because something unexpected had happened, I QUIT short of the goal and jump in the warm car?

Hell no.

No way.

I did not want that narrative in my head.  I wanted to know I could keep on going even though I was scared and exhausted and cold.  It was something really important that I just had to finish.  All of that went through my head.

I don’t have a clue what I actually said out loud.

Erica and I started heading toward the school and she simply said ‘This is where our real training begins. Let’s run to the school.’

We ran.

We shuffled, jogged, hiked, ran our way back to that finish area and straight into the nearest porta potties.  (Priorities. 🙂 )

And then right into the warm car. 🙂

We ran 32 miles in 8 hours and 36 minutes.

It was a beautiful, happy, memorable day of running.

Day one of the Western States Training Camp was in the books.

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Erica and I on day 3 at the American River overlook. Over 80 degrees before noon.  TOTALLY different weather. Great day of running in the heat. 🙂

‘Can’t you just eat less?’

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392+ pounds. Newly diagnosed as T2 and fully medicated. Size 32 dress, still had to have panels sewn in so it would fit…

This blog is for the women who I met at the Diabetes Expo last month. They asked me to address the ‘publicness’ of obesity…


Being obese I have, at times, been treated like my weight issue was open for public discussion and comment just because people could see it.

I mean, there is no hiding 392 pounds.

I recently had a discussion with a group of women at a diabetes expo where I was speaking. We were talking about comments and ‘helpful remarks’ others, including loved ones, make.  We all agreed that intentionally, unintentionally, pointedly; comments relating to food and diabetes and weight simply fuel shame and lack of confidence and fears…

Not one time, regardless of the speaker or the intent, did we ever find those comments truly helpful or motivating.

We all had stories.

We all agreed that shame can paralyze you.

This stuff HURTS.  And we, the obese, have no real way to hide. Because people can see our bulk, it seems to mean we’re fair game for comments and criticism and remarks.

It’s an emotionally vicious cycle.


‘Can’t you just eat less?’

‘You’ll never get married/date/be happy if you don’t lose weight.’

‘Don’t you wish you were normal sized?’

‘Should you be eating that…?’

‘Don’t you love your family enough to be healthy?’

I remember exactly who made those comments to me, when they happened. With clarity. I remember how I BURNED with shame for days/weeks. How my self-confidence would hit bottom and start digging an even deeper hole…

When lobed one of those questions or comments I usually tried to smile and say something generic like ‘thank you… mumble… mumble…’ The goal was always to get out of the situation posthaste.

Ashamed and sad and hurt.

Shame and lack of self confidence seem to go hand in hand for me.  (I know they are NOT the same, but they sure tend to show up together.)

I ALWAYS responded by placating my wounded soul and emotions with food. Food was how I managed, buried shame. Food was my stalwart comfort and companion during these episodes.

You might be thinking that those are mean, thoughtless, careless things for someone to say. Or maybe just plain rude.

BUT here is the catch…

If I am being totally honest…

I was THINKING those exact same things about MYSELF.

If they were just being mean you could actually brush it off a little easier. BUT when you, yourself, think it, believe it, own it

And then someone says it OUT LOUD…

Shame comes barreling through the door.  And lack of self confidence strolls in right behind her…

With cake in hand.

I wish I could tell you how I corralled shame, fought it. How I don’t wrestle with lack of confidence anymore. I don’t really have a good, clear answer just yet.  I’m still working on all of it.

But I’ve been really thinking about MY shame/food/weight/confidence issues since talking to those women a few weeks ago. Here’s what I’ve been thinking about… For me, at some point, things tipped and shame no longer DROVE what I did…  Or what I did NOT do.  It was still there, for sure, but I could shut it up for periods of time. I FINALLY reached a point in my life where I wanted to LIVE more than I was afraid of what I would have to do to reclaim and save my life. I was ready to change. Everything. I knew things could be totally different than they were.  I knew it would be excruciatingly lonely, hard work.

But this time around I knew all of that and was STILL ready to do the work. EVERY other emotion or fear or thought – even shame – was edged out by that intense readiness.

The whole lifestyle shift I embarked on became a black and white, life and death issue for me.  And I purposefully kept my thinking along those lines… It wasn’t confidence.  It was fear and blind bravery. I really didn’t do anything knowingly or strategically to battle shame directly. I just got busy discovering and starting to tear-apart some of the basic issues. I was finally working to get honest about WHY I was obese so I could figure out how to ‘solve’ the issue once and for all.

I was vulnerable.  Big time. By choice.  I knew if I was not hiding something, it could not be used against me.  I would not be able to use it against myself either. (That may not make sense to everyone…)

Even if it was something as publicly visible as weighing 392 pounds.

So what about now?

The growth that I’m proudest of?

The growth I talked to those women about at the Diabetes Expo???

In those horrible moments when I feel ashamed or someone is mean or confrontational or says something that jabs at who I think I am/who I want to be; I NO LONGER reach for food.

I mean, yeah… It takes ALL I HAVE IN ME not to grab food for comfort and confidence. Even now. Almost 4 years into this adventure.

BUT the difference NOW, no matter what strikes me emotionally; I do NOT reach for food. I breath. I go for a walk. I talk to a friend. I listen to some music. I pray. I think about why I’m reacting… I do lots of things to soothe my soul, gather up my confidence and let shame walk RIGHT back out the door…

None of my new coping mechanisms involve food.  I have been careful to build a ‘tool kit’ of skills that don’t involve food.

This is a key habit that I have to keep strengthening and practicing.

I think it was Madeye Moody in one of the Harry Potter books that would preach ‘Constant Vigilance!’

Well said.

How do you ‘soothe your soul’ without using food? 

Mac 50K (Yup… That’s not a typo.)

Ana Lu and I in the finisher's chute.  Photo credit to Josh Gum.
Ana Lu and I closing in on the finish line. Photo credit,  Josh Gum.

2015 Mac 50K is in the books. (31 miles, also called an Ultra). Mac is run on scenic, stunning trails in a gorgeous forest.

This was my second 50K. Even factoring in the first 10K I walked with Hannah when I weighed 280 pounds, this race was by far the hardest physical thing I have ever done.

Climbing over hills, jumping over logs/creeks and roots, steep ascents/descents, amazing scenery, great camaraderie with other runners and amazing volunteers.

Here are a few moments from Saturday that made me smile, lifted my heart…

  • Friends I was NOT expecting to see, standing in the middle of the forest cheering all of us on.
  • Taryn and Laura with the mid-run assist of a much needed banana and hugs.
  • Patrick riding beside me as I walked up a lonely stretch of sun-exposed road.  Gently reminding me to get fuel in my belly for the miles ahead.
  • Carlos helping me load salt tabs in my pack at the aid station because my hands weren’t functioning very well.
  • Ana Lu telling me (as I was whimpering with each step up a gentle slope) that she was ‘getting me to the finish line’.
  • The high school volunteer who kindly put ice cubes in my nasty/sweaty/filthy hydration pack while it was still on my back.

Snapshots.

Happy and meaningful snapshots for my heart from a damn fine day.

I love this sport, race day or any day, because it tests the individual. And yet in a strange way it’s almost like a team sport.  We all genuinely want everyone else to win their personal race.  NO matter how they define it.  If they’re fighting their heart and guts out – we’re rooting for them. Period.

When someone was stopped on the side of the trail around mile 17 or so, all you could hear were echoes through the forest of other runners asking ‘you OK?’ as they paused on their way past.  Or you come across someone struggling and you just buddy up with them (or they with you!), distract each other and encourage each other as best you can while you happen to be on the same stretch of trail. We generously share supplies when we have what someone else needs (salt tabs anyone?).

For Mac, I put into motion the training that Spencer and I have been working on for the past 6 months. Actually we’ve really been working on foundation building for Mac for a solid year.  It all came together on Saturday.

I did encounter some serious cramping in my shins, calves and feet. It was possibly from fatigue, heat/electrolyte imbalance, my lack of experience navigating super-steep terrain or even all of the above…  It just made things a bit tougher than planned.

I finished my race in 8:04.

And even with the stupid shin cramping agony; that is a WIN for me!


Racing these long events, my biggest issue is my head.  I start to question what I’m doing and it gets more insistent as my body starts to hurt and push to the edges of my training. My head starts to battle for control.  And the control it wants is clear and absolute; it wants to shut down my body and make everything comfortable and easy and safe.  Immediately.

From about mile 20 to the finish, I was really battling my brain. Even with friends running with me and trying to distract me; my head was going for the mental ‘sore spots’.

Everyone has them.  I am NOT alone.

Spencer and I have had tons of conversations about how part of the training we do for endurance events is specifically FOR the mental battles we face.

So for every negative thought, I would conjure up a positive.

  • Focus on my breathing. I WAS very alive and totally breathing.
  • I was running and moving. There are people, some I know and love, who do not/no longer have that option.
  • Marveling that my body could work so DANGED hard for so long and WILL be able to do even more with training and time.
  • Every single step was taking me closer to the finish line, to other goals, to becoming a stronger woman.
  • Pizza. 🙂 (Not gonna lie. I think about pizza a lot when I run.)

I finished the race and was greeted by friends.

Lots of friends. Old and new. Hugs and congrats and encouragement for everyone.

We were all verbally stepping all over each other trying to inquire about others that we had lost track of during the race. Was everyone back and OK? How was everyone feeling? Loud and happy chatter!

In the interest of full disclosure; I had one mercifully brief breakdown just after crossing the finish line. I realized I had DONE it, I was physically and mentally exhausted and it was the eve of Mother’s day.  My mom has been gone for 5 years and she would be so, totally, insanely proud of me.  She was wheel-chair bound and I just happened to glimpse a wheelchair with someone’s loved one waiting at the finish line.  It was JUST enough of a trigger… I suddenly felt heartbroken and totally lost without my mom for a few moments. MAN would she have loved what my life has become and the people in it… A legitimate feeling of sadness and loss that was perched at the surface bubbled over.  I was emotionally raw and depleted anyway.  Why not just give in to it?  I grabbed a hug from my friend Jeff and maybe, just maybe, cried on him a little bit…

Dried my tear(s).  (I’m not normally a crier. And I was dehydrated anyway. 🙂 )

Grabbed some more water and some orange slices.

Went to search for more friends.

Took pictures. Hugged anyone and everyone who wanted a hug. And some who didn’t. 🙂 Even though we ALL smelled like yeti’s.

Spent some time just reveling in a sport that is as much about a new-found, welcoming family and a team environment as it is about the amazing individuals  and characters who embrace it.

I love this sport more every time I lace up my shoes.

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Close to mile 6. Photo credit goes to Jeff Sherman who sprinted ahead, laid down on the ground and let us ran at/hurdle over him as he snapped the shot. Hannah, Josh, me, Ana Lu and Kristie.

Taper.

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18 events in 2012. Most were walking events, and I was beginning to experiment a little with running. My first trail event. A 45 mile bike ride. 🙂 I knew NOTHING about being coached or running or tapering.

I’m getting close to a big race.

One of the final parts of getting ready for a race is called tapering.  (Those who have tapered are groaning in sympathy right now…)

You train, work hard, plan, focus, learn, grow for months…

Then you SHUT IT ALL DOWN.

You back things off for the week or so before the race.  (It only feels like a month or two… #tapertantrum)

OK.  That’s not true.

I haven’t shut it all down.

I’m still doing core work, running a little, stretching. And I am still trying to learn to swim… But my coach, Spencer, has me on a seriously scaled back running plan from what I would normally be doing if we were in an active training period.  (Uh… Appetite does NOT scale back accordingly just for the record.  It seems to have missed the tapering memo.)

In the past the tapering period has been a quasi-nightmare for me.  I spent the ‘down time’ convinced that I was gaining weight and losing ALL of my fitness and knew there was no-way-in-hell I would be ready for race day when I spent the days leading up being ‘lazy’…

I mean, you take the girl who fought for more than two years to learn to love to run and worked hard to make exercising an iron-clad lifestyle habit and you ask her to stop

Stop the routines I worked so hard to develop.  Stop working hard every time I put on my running shoes.  Stop being focused on food intake and energy outputs for a short period of time. Stop doing the thing that I know was almost single-handedly responsible for my ability to get off of insulin and reverse Type 2 Diabetes?

Yikes.

I’ve heard people describe the tapering period as ‘vacation’. No way.  For someone STILL trying to cement all of these notions, habits and practices into my head and life, it was more than a little daunting and scary.

Stopping and scaling things way back just seems wrong.

So tapering normally meant I was cranky and testy and started questioning all of my training and driving my friends and coach crazy with questions laced with self-doubt…

‘How’s the taper going? Have you killed anyone yet?’  — text from a friend

Yeah.  I was a peach while tapering.

So why taper if it drives me so nuts?  First, my coach says so.  Second, I’ve done it enough times now that I KNOW it works and that it’s an important part of the training process.

Quite simply? Tapering pays off on race day.

I understand now that what you’re really doing during the taper is bottling up energy and letting your body and mind repair and rest so that you can be totally ready to RUN your heart out.

When I was tapering for the North Face 50K back in November/December, I realized what a mental battle tapering really was for me. I took really good notes on the process and captured my thoughts and feelings along the way. I noted multiple times that I was feeling sincere anxiety at the inactivity.  I feared that I would enjoy the break from running so totally and completely that I would just decide I was never, ever going to run again.  I talked a LOT about being afraid of gaining weight and thought about how I would manage food if exercise was totally taken out of the equation. I thought maybe I would forget how to run.  I was worried that by sitting ‘idle’ all of my fitness was slipping away.

My brain was taking up the slack for the decreased physical activity.  And not in a good way.

Then race day came.  I ran well. Felt great.  Loved every minute of it. KNEW the morning of the race, before I ever got near the start line; tapering had worked exactly as it should have.

I finished the race and still wanted to run again. I was eager to get back to training. My weight is ALWAYS going to fluctuate. My fitness for race day was perfectly intact and ready to go to work.

So this time around I focused on NOT allowing that mental chess game to begin. I’ve focused on just enjoying it as part of the whole training process.

This is a local event.  LOTS of friends running it. It’s the ground, trails, mountains that I have fallen in love with.  It’s where I practice.  When Spencer and I talked about goals at the beginning of this year I told him that for this race, I not only wanted to do well, I wanted to enjoy every piece of the process.  Taper included.

Race day arrives in 5 days…  I will get to see my friends and people I only see at races and I will meet new friends.  I’ll lace up my Brooks and pin on my number and slip on my hydration pack. AND I will know that all the training I did is about to be turned loose and tested and used. 🙂

And the dreaded taper is officially OVER…

And I’ll run. 🙂

#runhappy

Snacks. (Unsexy, not-very-cool, but my favorite new lifestyle habit…)

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I don’t really go anywhere without having a snack handy these days.  It’s one of the habits that keeps my new lifestyle habits cemented and in focus.

I can be relied upon to dig up at least 200 calories from the bottom of my purse, a pocket in my gym bag or the stash I keep in my desk at work.  An apple, a healthy snack bar of some sort, a small bag of nuts…

This is actually a habit I learned as a T2 diabetic.

If a low hit – and they did, often – I had to be able to help myself.

I was on a pharmacy of medications (Lantus, Byetta, Metformin) and there was no real way to predict when a low would hit. I always had something glucose based (juice box, glucose tabs, candy) ready to go… This ‘snack carrying’ habit wasn’t about health – it was simply about blood glucose manipulation and management.

It only took ONE time of heading FAST into a low and NOT having glucose to help myself stop the downward spiral for ‘carrying a snack’ to become an ironclad habit.

But now?

Now I carry snacks for a totally different reason.

Maintaining my weight AND my healthy eating habits requires me to keep a certain level of commitment to making sure I have what I need and that I keep practicing the good habits.

And let’s be honest… This wasn’t and isn’t just about healthy eating.

This ‘new habit’ is also about battling a really old, profoundly strong and unhealthy habit…

Making excuses.

I was really, really good at making excuses…

To not prepare and plan ahead for those times when I am hungry, forces me to rely on others or surrounding circumstances.  For me; that became a built-in excuse for eating like ‘crap’.  License to go wild.  Permission to just eat whatever happened to be available.

It’s an EXCUSE… Not packing a snack to help myself manage my food and LIFE goals is simply a big FAT EXCUSE…  Carry a snack removes that excuse.

I used that excuse ALL the time. At one point in my life I was flying weekly for work.  I saw every trip to the airport and every day spent away from home on a business trip as an excuse to eat whatever I wanted; this was an adventure and a ‘special occasion’ after all!  Weekly… I traveled weekly.  Did you catch that part? (No wonder I weighed 392 pounds…)

So now, NOW, I pack snacks.

It’s a cross between a hobby, an obsession and self-defense.

I take it very seriously.

I don’t want to lose my foothold in and passion for this new healthy lifestyle.

It’s a pretty simple and easy trick.  Decidedly unsexy. Boring.  But it works for me.

A healthy snack within arms reach removes excuses. It keeps me in control. It helps me stay focused daily on my food, weight, lifestyle goals.

What’s your favorite easy/healthy snack to tote along?! 

Guest Blog: Wade, Boston Marathon and running happy.

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He was FLYING down the hill. Smiling big time. As he should. The work paid off and he was enjoying the race.

Wade ran the Boston Marathon this past weekend.

He had a great race!

Wade ran a 2:44 marathon (world record is around 2:03ish)  with a 6:16 pace (that’s minutes per mile.).  Uh… That’s fast.  Just for the record.

Congrats to my friend on an amazing accomplishment, a race well run and more importantly a race run happy. 🙂

Run with it Wade… 🙂


Treadmills and the quest for happiness.

Betsy has an expression… “run happy”.

I can’t tell you how many signs I saw during Boston that had that expression on them… at least two (signs get a little hard to read when you are concentrating on not bouncing off the guy next to you and squinting through the rain, I’m sure there were more…)…  (I did see one from a Wellesley College girl about using her tongue…)

Anyways… I always tell Bets “I don’t run happy, I run hard”.  And that second part was especially true at Boston. I ran my legs off. But something else has occurred to me in the days since the race, and Betsy’s blog about ‘Force’ really cemented it for me.

In the lead up to, and since the race, people have asked how I trained, if it hurt (duh) and why I do it? All of the usual questions that Betsy has already outlined. Apparently we runners have a third eye on our foreheads… Do yourselves a favor and go read Born to Run by Christopher McDougall. Don’t read the reviews, just read the damn book. Then you will know why we run; to catch dinner.

One of the conversation themes has centered around the tough winter that the East coast has had, and training through it. Specifically (and this is a topic amongst both runners and non-runners), do you run inside?

NO!!! NO &$^#^#&#&&!!!!! WAY!!!!

For the record I ran ONE TIME on a dreadmill training for Boston. I never get blisters, and I got a blister. It was the most miserable five miles I have run in a long time.

So as I thought more about the race, and about Betsy’s blog on the connotations of “force(d)”, I also thought about why I submit my body to the stupidity that is a marathon. And, revelation here, it’s because running is fun and it makes me happy. Long cold snowy training runs are fun! (I don’t run on treadmills, because they suck, and it’s not fun.) I run because its enjoyable, I like it, I am happy when I run.

The exercise is a benefit, and don’t get me wrong, its an important part of the overall experience, but I wouldn’t run just for the exercise, exercise isn’t fun, its work. Running is FUN! Granted there are days where you have to embrace the suck. Hell there are weeks where you have to embrace the suck. There are days when you HAVE to go run in the cold, and the wind, and the dark, and it will not be entirely enjoyable. BUT it will beat running on a treadmill in that hot stuffy gym (treadmills are right next to Dementors in my book).

But at the end of it all, you get to run through some town, on some race, with a bunch of kids holding their hands out for a high five as you cruise (or trot, or hobble) by, and you will get to give them a high five. Their joy will give you joy. When you are at mile 22, and you are starting to hurt, you see your friends, and your mom cheering you on and you get to give them high fives (and not run into the fence) and they take awesome pictures to account for the craziness. And at mile 26.2 you will stop, and it will hurt like little else you have experienced. And you know what?! IT.IS.FUCKING.AWESOME!!!

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Mile 23.5. Family and friends screaming and cheering like maniacs. 🙂  Photo Credit to Thomas Griffin.

As Betsy said in her last blog, no one is forcing her to do this, she, and I, and Hannah, and every other person who sticks with running, or swimming, or under water basket weaving does it not because someone is making them, but because they find some joy in it, however twisted that joy may be.

“Training is what makes you into the athlete.  The ‘event’ is the celebration, the party!  You have done the WORK, put in the hours and learned a lot about yourself during training. The event is where you put it all together and see it in action!” ~ Betsy Hartley

If you aren’t a runner, its OK we understand… (But we really think you should buy some running shoes and give it an honest 3 months worth of effort… you will thank us at the end).

But understand that this is our sanity, and it’s fun. If you think it sucks then don’t do it. Life is too short to be miserable.

Go find something you enjoy, and kick ass at it.

Just so long as there is a party at the end.

Run Happy, Run Hard!