The lost get found



I never thought of myself as a crazy cat lady, but this October, I saw myself possibly becoming one. Over a year ago, my family adopted two beautiful kittens. We originally intended to adopt just one, but discovered our desired little kitty had a twin brother and they had been together since birth. Not wanting to separate them, we decided to adopt them both. Evan and Everett quickly became part of our family as we all loved on them and learned to take care of pets again (aside from fish, we were out of practice). Our son, the youngest, endured several scratches when he played too rough despite our warnings to play softer. Thankfully, both cats tolerated his torture playing pretty well.
 

Brotherly love

A year went by and the kitties grew into adult cats with large appetites. They settled into a nice routine of cuddling and playing with our kids, playing together, and sleeping a lot. Having matured some, they were less active than when we first got them. The only time they made much ruckus was at feeding time or when our son played too rough.

Our school routine got underway this fall, as well as all of the after school activities which seemed to increase tenfold this year. I thought we were doing fine, but by October, I was starting to feel overwhelmed with the new busy schedule.

It was a Wednesday night which was our craziest weekday evening. The kids got home from school at different times and we only had about 45 minutes to do homework, after-school chores, make dinner and then eat before heading out to church. I remember it being like a three-ring circus in the house and thinking it would be a miracle if we got everything done in time. I’m not for certain, but I believe it must have been around or during this hectic time that Everett made his escape. The saddest thing is that none of us realized he was gone until the next morning when he didn’t run to his bowl for breakfast.

The cat-hunt began.

Everett

In the days immediately following, I spent any time I had during the day and quite a few sleepless nights - sometimes in the rain, searching my neighbors’ yards and storm sewers. I made flyers and posted them all over. So much so that it was kind of obnoxious and embarrassing to my family. I didn’t care. I needed to find my poor lost kitty. I blamed myself for his escape and for not realizing he was gone sooner.

A funny thing happened during my searching. I felt God was sharing an important lesson with me. The story of the prodigal son kept coming to my mind. (…Yes, I know we’re talking about a lost cat here, but I believe God can and does use any circumstance to get His point across).

I kept thinking how much I would rejoice if we found Everett and how I would lavish him with love and attention if he would just come back to us. Then, I’d feel guilty that here I still had his brother Evan with us and I was neglecting him while searching for his brother. After my daily hunt, I'd finally go home and made sure to love on Evan and continued to pray for Everett's safe return.

So what was I learning? Here's the lesson: No matter how far we run or how much we try to hide, God loves us and relentlessly searches after us. He wants us to return home to Him so He can celebrate and pour out His love on us. For those who remain faithful to Him, we are never lost if we see that all that He has to offer is already ours. We are always able to receive God’s love if we accept His offer (His forgiveness and payment for our sins) and participate in a relationship with Him today.

I’m thankful for this life lesson even though it has come with much sadness and chaos, including driving my husband crazy by temporarily taking in two stray cats - one feral and one infected with fleas and ticks. We still have not found Everett, but I trust that God knows where he is and that ultimately He is in control. I'm sure I don’t have correct theology on animals and heaven so I won't even go there, but I know that God created our beloved kitty and in some way, He cares for him.

My heart still aches for our missing feline friend and I keep praying he's safe and will return to us someday. I'm not sure I’ll ever give up searching for Everett and will try to keep hope alive, even if it means my husband thinks I am a crazy cat lady.

I leave you with a few songs of encouragement and comfort.
 

I recently discovered this wonderful artist. Audrey creates such simple,
powerful, prayerful music. Check out her latest album Fortunate Fall!

Audrey Assad singing "I Shall Not Want"

I heard this next song on the radio last month and couldn't

get the catchy chorus out of my head. Great message!

(the lead singer reminds me of Michael Bublé)

Unspoken - Who You Are

Okay, you're probably done with reading and listening, but I can't resist sharing. Here's another great song from the Fortunate Fall album. (And in case you're wondering, I don't get anything from promoting Audrey's album other than the satisfaction of sharing her inspiring music with the world.)



Audrey Assad - "Lead Me On"

Brave

For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline.  
2 Timothy 1:7

God does not give me a spirit of fear and timidity. His Spirit is full of power, love and self-control. (my paraphrase)

I am often reminded of this truth from God's Word when I come face to face with my fears. In my last post, I talked about facing my fears with music and performing. That's one of the big ones. The above verse has come into play for all of my fears - the big and the small.

I keep learning an important lesson when it comes to "conquering" fear in my life. Whenever I am tempted to act based on my fears, it is important that I call into question my focus. You see, when it is all about me - how I will appear, what others might think, what is in it for me - then my focus is misplaced. I need to change my thinking and attention. Make it less about me and more about God.

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect. Romans 12:1-3

It is in these fearful moments, I need to remember that God has gifted me with specific talents and abilities to serve Him and to serve others. It's not about making comparisons, or over-, or under-inflating my ego. I just need to be who the Lord calls me to be, be brave and strong in Him, and let Him work through my strengths and my weaknesses.

There are different kinds of spiritual gifts, but the same Spirit is the source of them all. There are different kinds of service, but we serve the same Lord. God works in different ways, but it is the same God who does the work in all of us. A spiritual gift is given to each of us so we can help each other. To one person the Spirit gives the ability to give wise advice; to another the same Spirit gives a message of special knowledge.The same Spirit gives great faith to another, and to someone else the one Spirit gives the gift of healing. He gives one person the power to perform miracles, and another the ability to prophesy. He gives someone else the ability to discern whether a message is from the Spirit of God or from another spirit. Still another person is given the ability to speak in unknown languages, while another is given the ability to interpret what is being said.It is the one and only Spirit who distributes all these gifts. He alone decides which gift each person should have.
1 Corinthians 12:4-11

To conquer fear, I need to trust in God and trust in how He created me to be. It's simple, but certainly not always easy.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart;
do not depend on your own understanding.
Seek his will in all you do,
and he will show you which path to take. Proverbs 3:5-6  

I continue to find the strength to fight my fears (and you name it, I think I have been fearful about almost everything at some point in my life) through God's Word and through prayer. I have also found these inspirational songs help lift me up in moments of weakness (see videos below). I pray you will look to God for strength to fight your battles, and will be brave and bold through Him and for Him.

                                              Brave                          by Nichole Nordeman

Read All About It                     by Emeli Sande

In the band of brothers

Hey there! I'm back after a long hiatus. I have changed the name of my blog and found a new direction. I started blogging a few years ago with the title "Qualify at 35". It was my motivation as I trained to re-qualify for the Boston Marathon in 2011. I've kept those posts on here if you're interested in reading about that time. After I ran Boston, I lost the motivation to blog and couldn't find a good area of focus. I thought I might write about trying to become a better triathlete - again, looking for motivation as I attempted training for a Half Ironman. It didn't work. I haven't quite given up on that dream, but that's for the future - maybe when I turn 40. So for now, I've decided to share the moments of clarity I get from time to time (many times while running or often in the random, mundane moments of my day). These insights are often answers to prayer and simply God's way of using the silence to speak truth to my heart.

Today, a moment came while watching my 8 year old daughter attempt a back bend without a spotter. She's been reading and watching the American Girl story of McKenna - the 2012 doll who is all about gymnastics. My daughter has found inspiration to become a better gymnast through her story. Who would've thought a toy could have such impact?! Today was my daughter's first day in a Level 3 class. She was nervous about being the only one not able to do a back bend. Before class this morning, she practiced with great determination. After numerous attempts, she finally did it! I was so happy and proud of her. I was filled with this great mom pride and joy as I watched her participate in class. It was then that I realized she has found a true passion, not by my interest or persuasion. She really has come to this sport on her own. I love that!

It then dawned on me why I enjoy playing with my band so much. Bear with me as I take you through the back story...

For as long as I can remember, I've loved music. My mom says I started singing as soon as I could talk. By my prodding, my mom let me start piano lessons at 5 years old. By 8, I had decided I was going to play the cello (or "chello" - as I misspelled it in my 3rd grade diary) when I got into 5th grade. I fell in love with the rich, deep tone of the instrument and thought nothing of the size and future expense. In almost all others area of my life, I was timid and shy. But not when it came to music. It was a pure passion, a pure love and enjoyment where I felt no fear or hesitation.

Things started changing in high school when all of the sudden I was getting judged for my performances. It wasn't enough to just love to play or sing, I now had to reach some seemingly unattainable goal of perfection. I think there's nothing wrong in striving for excellence, but the fear of missing the mark and getting harshly judged was ruining music making for me. This fear continued to grow as I studied music in college and became rampant after graduation. I still loved playing and singing, but now had developed full-fledged stage fright. I tried to fight back by forcing myself to perform anyway and that backfired miserably. My heart would pound so hard I thought was going to faint and the butterflies were so nauseating I felt sick. Finally, I backed out of all public solo playing and singing. If it didn't involve a group where I could blend and hide, I wanted nothing to do with it. Sadly, music had lost it's fire and joy. Ya know, making music is like that "if a tree falls in a forest" thing. I could pour out my heart and soul in my music as long as no one else was listening, but then where was the joy and what was the point?

So I lived and struggled with this internal battle of feeling like I needed perfection to be considered a real musician. I kept hiding in large groups and was deathly afraid of doing anything solo. However, little by little, God began helping me through my fears. I started getting involved in the children's music ministry at my church. OK, I thought, I can do this. Kids don't judge as harshly as adults. While I really enjoyed working with the kids, eventually my repertoire felt limited. I wanted to sing and play songs with mature messages and not always have to do signs and move around the stage.

After several years and countless prayers, I started getting involved with my worship team at church. This felt pretty safe; it's a group of people after all. By the grace of God, I was asked to play in a wedding with a few guys from my church. They were already part of a group and I was added mainly for my cello, but I got to sing some too. Well...we had so much fun playing together, we decided to form a band. I had never been in a real band before. As a cellist, I've only been in large and small ensembles, mostly classical in nature. Now I could say I was in a BAND that plays contemporary music. How cool was that?!

We've been together a little over a year now. In that time, we've decided on a name - Up Past 9 - and have played at church, a coffeehouse, and a bookstore. I don't know what the future holds for us, but I do know I feel incredibly blessed to be able to play with this group. 

Because of our band, I have rediscovered my pure love of music and finally have the confidence to sing and play in front of others, as I have in private all of my life. With the constant encouragement and support of my band mates, I feel free from the fear of judgement and can trust myself to explore and enjoy music again. It's a blessing to be a part of a group without inflated egos, without harsh judgement or criticism, and with others who simply enjoy playing and singing together to glorify God. Thank You, Jesus! And thank you to my sweet and fun band of brothers - Cliff, Craig and Tim - from the bottom of my heart, for giving me wings to soar and helping me find the true love of music again!

Why I'm here

As I was running yesterday, I was listening to my iPod and reflected on this past week. It was a rough one. As usual, it was busy with the kids' activities and daily responsibilities. But unusual and quite shocking was finding out about two untimely deaths of parents of young children.

Last Monday, I heard about a runner who had started the Brew to Brew race, not sure if he was doing it solo or as a relay, and was taken to the hospital after suffering a stroke on the road. I followed his Caring Bridge site that was posted on Facebook and saw the decline of his health over several days. Doctors couldn't control the swelling in his brain and he did not make it. He was only 35 and left behind a wife and young daughter. I was saddened to hear about their loss. Although I never knew him, I've done Brew to Brew many times and can't imagine facing such tragedy from doing something I love.

On Tuesday, I learned about my college Scholarship Hall Director (like a RA for my small dorm) who died when a train hit her car on Monday at 2:30 a.m. My college roommate called to deliver the news. I was in shock. The news reports didn't give many details, but they said it appeared the crossing arms were down and she went around them. I couldn't figure out what to think about her death.

I didn't keep up with my SHD much after graduating, but reconnected through Facebook a couple years ago. We had an initial greeting and after that I would see her occasional posts. I saw a recent picture of her where she had the same pretty smile and kind eyes I remember from college. I saw that she had pursued her career in counseling and was a high school guidance counselor. She seemed like a grown up version of the caring, fun woman I knew many years ago and I was happy to see she had gotten married and had three beautiful children. I wrestled with trying to understand how someone who had always seemed so full of life and had so much going for her could take her own life.

I went to the funeral on Thursday and it was there that I learned that Aimee was suffering from postpartum depression (she has a four month old). That explains why she did what she did, a little, but it doesn't make her death any easier. I feel for her husband and for her boys who will have to carry on without their mother. I feel for her students who she counseled and coached and looked up to her. How are they going to understand?

In some ways, I can understand what drove Aimee to her death. I, too, had postpartum depression with both kids. Actually, I've suffered from depression most of my life and especially the times right after having my kids, it would just sometimes take over. I didn't want to hurt myself or the kids, but I would fly into a rage and then it would end with me feeling badly for what I had done and thinking that everyone would be better off without me. That latter feeling would stay with me for days, and I fear even longer if I hadn't sought help. Because of my history with depression, I got on medication right away which helped settle my crazy thoughts, controlled my raging hormones, and got me through the sleep deprivation and babies' crying spells.

Even after the postpartum time frame, I would slip into periods of depression that got me thinking about my purpose here and if the world would be better off without me. I never got so far as to create a real plan for leaving, but I could see how someone could get to that point if they didn't have some intervention. I'm so thankful I've been given many opportunities to step off the ledge. My greatest intervention has been my God who keeps coming back to save me. At just the right moment, God has provided me with just the right person, words, songs, or medical assistance to help me think clearly and face reality again. I know it's His Grace, His Love, His Purpose for me that has kept me here and kept me from going too far. I've done nothing special and don't feel deserving of all He has given me, but I'm so thankful He has. God has given me my faith that allows me to trust in Him completely. It's this faith, it's God's great love and provision, that gets me through the storms of life.

I'm so sad for Aimee and her family. I don't claim to know her whole situation. I don't know if she reached out to loved ones or if she sought medical treatment. Even in this modern day, I think depression is still viewed as a shameful illness and is something people try to hide and get through on their own. I want to help bring depression to light as a problem that many of us face and that true healing requires more than just a pill. For those afflicted, we need unlimited patience, understanding, and unconditional love. We don't always find this in our families and friends, but we can find this in Jesus, Our Savior and Friend. I pray that more people will turn to Him, will stop hiding in shame and reach out to family and friends. It could save your life.

I love this song and video! Such a beautiful message...

"Remind me who I am" by Jason Gray

Down, but not out

For the past two days, I've been laid up in bed, sick with a fever, cough, and sinus congestion. I'm 99% sure it's the flu. My daughter had it for 6 days, my sister and nieces all had it, so I think it's safe to say that having the exact same symptoms and feeling like death qualifies me to say, it's the flu! No fun! But, during this time, I've started a mission to attain great health. I know I've talked about it before, but I'm dead serious about it this time.

This means staying on track with my supplements and eating better. What do i take? Here's the low down on my supplements and "nutrition" plan:

I take these daily:
1. Probiotics
2. Vitamin D3
3. Ubiquinol
4. Omega 3 - EPA/DHA
5. B-12

Along with these supplements, I'm trying to drink more green tea and tulsi tea, cut out almost all refined sugar (still a struggle with grains), eat more green veggies, fish, and less red meat.

I've decided that I'm tired of feeling like crap, having little to no energy most days, living for my morning coffee to get me going (still love the taste with creamer - ugh!), and feeling frustrated by constant illness and injury to my body.

It's time to take control of my health! No one else is going to do it for me. I know it's going to be hard to make lots of these changes, but I also know they are necessary for me to live a drug free (I'm talking over the counter NSAID's, as well as anti-depressants), healthy, energetic, purposeful life.

When I am no longer running a fever or coughing up a lung, I also plan to implement more strength training into my exercise. I've nearly abandoned the idea of doing a Half-Ironman this summer, unless I can really see some great changes in energy and can manage training along with my busy life as a mother, wife, and servant of God. I still would like to do some triathlons, continue biking and swimming, and of course, complete the half marathons I've already signed up for this spring. The main difference is that I will be doing these things in light of overall health for my body versus performance goals.

I want to live a healthy, active lifestyle for all of my days and for me, that means slowing the pace down to last longer. Life's a marathon, not a sprint!

Learning as I go

Had some random thoughts of lessons learned over the years of running...

Why is it we can't really appreciate what we have when we have it? No crystal ball to foretell the future, I guess. :-) I so wish I would have appreciated and taken more advantage of my youth when I had more free time and was able to run injury free. Busy life with kids and constant injuries puts a big damper on my running goals.

The longer I run, the more I have to cross train to stay healthy and be able to run. I'm feeling the effects of 13 years of racing and running through various injuries.

I also have to modify my diet, cut out more bad stuff, if I don't want to be as big as a house. This is an area though where I do think I took full advantage of eating whatever I wanted when I was younger. Just wish I hadn't developed so many bad habits and cravings for unhealthy foods.

With every injury, I learn more about my body and it's disfunction. A recent X-ray confirmed that I have a curve in my lower spine which results in one hip being higher and more internally rotated than the other. This is the source of my leg length discrepancy, lower back problems, hip pain, and probably also contributed to my foot problems. Some call it mild scoliosis. The good news it's possible to work on evening it out by doing strengthening exercises. I may never be able to change the internal rotation, but am hopeful that exercises will also help. I consider myself a pretty tough mental runner and can push through some bad pain, but when my body breaks down to the point of not working properly, I'm forced to change things. That means backing off of intensity and distance, and sometimes taking a break from running. Hence, the damper on my racing goals.

I've been a "competitive" runner almost since I started. Signing up for races was my main motivation in the beginning. It's how I stayed consistent with training and pushed my body to its limits. I've won, or even placed, very little in my age group, but that doesn't take away from the fact that I've enjoyed pursuing personal goals.

Injuries, kids, church activities, and changing priorities have all been game changers for me. I'm now trying to learn, to accept, how to run for fun, even just for recreation. Ouch, did I just say that? I still sign up for races, but I have to keep fighting against the urge to set specific time goals. Seems like when I do, I push too hard, get injured and frustrated and have to repeat this cycle all over again.

It's sometimes very hard to be around my still "competitive" running friends when that doesn't feel like it can be my focus anymore. I  still enjoy running with them, but our goals are so different now.

Just trying to navigate through these changes. Bear with me. Going to be a slow process.

Seeking balance

Once again, I find myself tipping the scale over and needing to come back to the center. Recently, I got it in my head to start sorta semi-training for a Half Ironman. Like my level of commitment? I joined a gym for a couple of months so I could have access to a pool and spinning classes. For the past three weeks, I've been trying to get on some sort of regular schedule where I can do all three sports in one week. It's not working out so well. I've been battling a sinus infection and now my 3rd or 4th cold (I'm losing track) this winter! Combine the illnesses with lack of sleep and I'm a big mess. Last week was my most productive in terms of training (if you can call it that). I ran three times, biked (went to spin class) twice, and swam twice. I had a short reprieve from illnesses last week so I was able to get it all in, but let me tell ya, I was dog tired by the end of the week. And...my hip started hurting all the time. Before, it had just been hurting right after my runs, but would loosen up after a few hours and with mild stretching. Now, it was constant pain and tightness.

I know this just sounds like a rant and a bunch of complaining. I promise, this isn't just to gripe about all my problems. What I'm trying to figure out is if this is all worth it. I now have a decent road bike and could actually do better in the bike portion of a triathlon. I've taken that as somehow needing to push myself to do something harder than an Olympic distance tri, hence the Half Ironman.

I'm not giving up at this point, but I am backing off. I need to remember that I'm still new at all of this and I can't expect to jump right into training without a base. I'm not built for that. My hip pain reminds me that I have inherent imbalances which I'm working on, but they may never be resolved. My body (and mind) can only tolerate so much stress in a week before it starts wearing down.

So, I'm figuring out that if I'm going to continue working towards a Half Ironman this summer, I'm going to have to take it slower in the beginning, give my body time to rest and heal before adding another layer of training. For now, I think that means I have to limit my harder workouts to every other day and not worry about getting in two a days just yet.

On a positive note, I had a great long swim yesterday. I went almost a mile and my muscles aren't even sore today! And my hip is feeling better!

For the first time in over 13 years of running, I'm keeping a training log on dailymile.com. I'll track my workouts there, but will blog about the process here. More to come if I can find my true balance in this journey as a semi-sorta-wannabe triathlete. ;-)

How things change

This has been a year of transformation for me, especially in my running. It just isn't what it used to be for me. It was once a way to validate myself, a way to feel a sense of self worth, experience competition, to set and achieve goals. Not so much these days. Suffering through many bouts of injuries over the past 6 years, I've been broken down. This last one, my foot problem, has kept me from running like I've wanted to for the past 6 months. I'm tired of fighting it and running in fear of re-injuring it. Instead, I've slowed down and tried to enjoy running for other reasons - for physical and mental health, for weight maintenance, for social time, and for being outdoors. I also just simply like to run to run. When all is going well and I can run without pain, I feel happy. I like moving my body, finding a good cadence, clearing my mind, sweating it out, and feeling the wind on my face. Time goals are not my focus right now. Running free - free from injury, doubts, worry, and fear - that is my new goal. It feels different, weird, unnatural at times, but I'm kinda liking it. No schedule, no rules, just me and the road ahead. Let's see where it leads.

My comeback

For the few of you who care, sorry I haven't blogged in a while. I lost steam to write about my running after Boston and have just been trying to find a healthy state of running and working out all summer. After doing the Lincoln half marathon and Mother's Day 5K with my daughter in May, I took nearly 6 weeks off of running to give my foot the rest it needed. Knowing I still needed a goal to stay motivated, I signed up for the Shawnee Mission triathlon in early July. I knew I wouldn't be able to run the race very well (if at all), but I at least wanted something to keep me moving and figured I could still bike and swim without taxing my foot. I chose the long course so it would scare me enough to have to train on the bike and do some swimming. I "trained" (mostly biked and swam) for about a month and accomplished my goal. The race wasn't even cancelled this year and my foot held out great during the run.

But even with all of that, I was still in a running funk all summer. I had no major running goals other than to try to get and eventually stay healthy. My foot was just not cooperating. It still got sore and tight in the joint when I ran too many miles, went too fast, or wore any sort of heeled shoes (including running shoes!).

I was feeling extreme frustration with not finding just the right shoe to help me. I finally threw in the towel and was just about to give up running and/or running shoes altogether when Eladio encouraged me to try the new minimalist running shoe by Saucony called Hattori. Our local Saucony rep, Terry Drake, provided a trial run in these shoes at a group run this past summer. I gave them a test run and they felt great. They were definitely different, but my foot (my toe specifically) felt much better in these shoes than any others I tried. Plus, I wasn't having to run barefoot on the hot pavement!

Since I was having to start all over with my running anyway, I figured now was the time to ease into them. I didn't want to make the classic mistake I heard of most people when trying minimalist shoes for the first time, doing too much, too soon. When I started running again back in late June, I did 1 mile, then 2 and worked my way up to 3 before the triathlon. I was able to maintain doing 3-4 mile runs during July, but then wanted to test the long distance waters again. I moved up to 6, then 8. Still, my foot was holding out and doing okay. It wasn't 100%, but it wasn't getting worse. By late August, I was back up to 12 miles and my foot was finally starting to feel better which gave me enough confidence to sign up for the Sioux Falls half marathon less than a month away. I maintained 8-10 the next few weeks and headed into the half marathon race not completely sure how I was going to do, if my foot would hold out, or if I'd be able to finish injury free.

Race day was yesterday. My strategy was to start slow and then pick it up if I felt good towards the end. If all went well, I hoped to run a sub 2. I just had no idea how much of a sub 2 to shoot for. A few running buddies also had similar goals, but when I checked out the pace bands they were using, seeing all those miles in the mid to upper 8 minute range made me nervous. I really didn't think I had 8's in me since all my training runs were in the 10's and sometimes mid-9's. Thankfully, a couple ladies were being very sensible and were starting in the upper 9's. I decided to hang with them as long as I could.

It ended up being Patricia and I who really started together and stayed tight for about 10 miles. I could see my friend Mallika up ahead for a little while and our other buddy Pritha right behind us. Then by 10, my legs felt plenty good and warmed up. I told myself that if I felt good by 10, I would just see what I had in me for the final 5K. Patricia encouraged me to go up ahead so I finally started pushing my pace and left her. For the next mile and a half, I felt like I was flying. It was an exhilarating experience. I was passing people like crazy. What a feeling! To top it all off, I had no pain in my foot at this speed. I looked down when my Garmin hit mile 12 and saw that I had just run an 8:04 minute mile!! The final mile was a bit tougher since I had started running out of juice and had not done this distance in training. My legs hung in there, but I felt a blister forming under my big toe. It was annoying, but at least it wasn't pain my joint or bone this time. I had to push through my dying legs that final mile, but seeing Eladio at the finish line pumped me up for the final tenth of a mile and I was able to sprint it in. Right before crossing the finish line, I saw the clock at 1:55 something. For a second I was disappointed it wasn't a sub 1:55, but quickly realized how greedy that was. I had just run a sub 2 (1:55:11) and didn't have any major injuries. That is a first in many years!! Praise God!

It's the day after, I'm tired, but filled with new hope. Is it possible that running in my new shoes is helping me become an injury free runner? I pray and hope it is. I'm just so thankful that I am running distance again and am feeling really good. I'm already starting to toy around with race plans this next year. I don't know what I'll end up doing so I'll stay quiet on that for now, but it's wonderful to be filled with hope of being a mother runner once again.

New age, new blog...sort of

In celebration of my birthday and new age, 36, I felt it was time to change the name of my blog. I won't say much now, other than a big THANK YOU to my hubby and kids for making my day so special. It started with a 10 mile bike ride and breakfast at my favorite morning restaurant, Eggtc. I was also treated to some nice gifts from my family - a new book (I'll share more about this later), some body sprays, and a dozen cupcakes from Smallcakes. I've only eaten two and they were quite delicioso. I'm one very blessed and spoiled mother runner! :-)

Don't they make your mouth water?!

God is Good!!

I can't explain it, but God worked a miracle for me. On the 115th running of the Boston marathon, I was able to complete my 15th marathon. Even lining up to the start, I had no idea what the day would bring and just how far I would be able to run on my bum foot. I tried to put my fears out of my mind and just go with the flow. Hanging out and starting the race with friends helped tremendously. I had to keep reminding myself to just live in the moment and take it all in. Not knowing if or when I'd be back to run Boston, I didn't want to let this opportunity pass me by and leave with regrets. That was my "A" goal no matter what happened with my foot.

Still, I feared the worst. Simply walking around before the race on Saturday and Sunday, I had pain in my foot. Every pair of running shoes I packed (I brought a large suitcase so I could decide between four pairs!) didn't feel good on my sore foot. I decided I needed all the help I could get, so I used the free titanium tape they offered at the expo and wore my EFX band (those holographic bracelets that have been disproven). I didn't care if it was all a hoax. I tried convincing myself they were real and could really help me. Maybe they did, maybe they didn't. I didn't feel different by having them on, but was hoping there might be something in them that could help in the later miles of the marathon.

Race day: Woke up early, showered and ate breakfast. (I wasn't going to make the same mistake I've always made when running a later marathon). Waited in a long line, but finally got on the school bus to go to Hopkinton. I wasn't nervous yet, just sleepy. Rested my eyes a bit and chatted with my friends. Got to Hopkinton and waited in a long port-o-potty line. Bundled up in my poncho and danced to the hip-hop music the "DJ/announcer" was playing.

Finally, my friends and I settled down to get ourselves all race ready. We thought we'd have more time, but the announcer was already instructing us to line up in our corral. We gathered up our belongings and dropped off our bags in the appropriate buses. (I was impressed by the extreme organization. Boston sure knows what they're doing!)

We walked, and walked, and walked and finally got close to the start. This was a whirlwind! I barely had time to take off my throw away clothes when we hit the starting line. I wished my friends good luck one last time and we were off and running. We lost the speedsters, Theresa and Ann, pretty quickly in the crowd. They were shooting for a faster time and I didn't expect to see them again until the finish (if I could make it there). I stuck by Patricia and Bonnie who both wanted to run a sub 4. Patricia acted as our pacer since she was the only one with a SmartPace band. It didn't take long before I realized just how far back we had started in the third wave. I looked around at the numbers on the runners around us and we were in a pack of 20,000+. I figured most of them were charity runners and we were going to have to do a lot of weaving. That's exactly what we did for the first 7-8 miles. It was work trying to stay together, but thankfully, the pace didn't feel bad for me. Cardiovascularly, I was fine and my foot wasn't hurting yet. I had my name on my shirt and every time we hit the crowds, I pumped my fist when I heard my name and high fived the kids. I thought, if this is as far as I can run, I'm going to make the most of it.

The miles just kept flying by and I was doing well. Pace still felt good and foot was still fine. We got to the screaming wall at Wellesley and again I ran by the crowd. Lots of "Kiss me, I'm [fill in the blank]" signs which kinda weirded me out, but I high fived a lot of the girls and the handful of guys through this area. I ran with a huge smile and felt like a celebrity. I decided right there that this was how I wanted to run the rest of my race. I didn't want to care about my pace or my foot anymore. It was all about taking it in and enjoying the crowd. I would let them carry me through the miles and through the pain.

Mile 17, Patricia and I saw her husband, Joe, and I was finally able to dump the arm warmers and gloves I had been carrying around my waist. It was somewhere around that time, I started pulling away from Patricia. It wasn't intentional, I just felt good. Patricia was feeling overheated and needed to slow the pace down a little. She kept encouraging me to go ahead if I felt good, but I was still a bit apprehensive about running too fast and worried my foot wouldn't be able to handle it. At the next aid station, I found myself ahead of her. I looked back a few times, but slowing my pace down felt unnatural. I trusted that Patricia could finish and just needed to run her own race. I had seen Bonnie a couple of times after mile 15, but kept losing her too. She was looking strong every time I saw her though.

I don't remember a lot of details about the next 8-9 miles. My memory always gets sketchy around this time of the marathon. I remember just wanting to get to mile 20 before I could feel confident that I could finish, even if I needed to walk. I was feeling some pain in my foot, but it wasn't in the same spot I had been so concerned about. Now, it was blister pain on the bottom of my feet and under my toe. I don't know what it is about Boston. It's the only race I've blistered in. Must be the hills! I was wearing my Injinji socks and had lubed up well with Sportslick that morning, so I had no reasons for these blisters. Instead of getting upset, I decided this was the least of my worries. I just wanted to finish and would deal with whatever blisters I got. They weren't going to stop me this time! I figured blisters will heal, broken feet and disappointment take a lot longer. My foot didn't feel broken and I so wanted to finish.

While I was taking in the crowd at mile 20, an angel appeared. It was a woman who looked right at me and said "You've got this, Myra! Six more miles and you'll get your medal!" Seriously. How did she know that this was what I was working for and that this would be the perfect motivation for me that that particular moment? I had told Eladio before I left that if I could make it to mile 20, I just wanted to finish so I could get that medal. If I had to drop out before that point, I could live with myself. But, if I got that close and didn't get to finish and get the medal, I would be so disappointed. In fact, as a safeguard to my potential disappointment, I specifically bought a "Boston 2011" necklace at the expo that would serve as my medal in case I didn't get one. But here was this lady, saying I was going to get it. I believed her and just ran as fast as I could.

Those last 6 miles were the most awesome final 6 miles I've ever run in a marathon. I was fully in the moment and thoroughly enjoying the crowd. Yes, my legs were getting tired and I was running on a painful blister, but I didn't care. My mantra became, "Run with Joy" (borrowed from the title of Ryan Hall's book). Finally, I hit mile 25 and I knew I was going to finish. A few turns and then we hit the final straight away. I gave it everything I had. Crossed the finish line and looked down at my watch - 3:55:05! I did it! Not only did I finish, my foot felt okay and I ran a sub 4! I got my A, B, C goals and more!! Immediately, I called Eladio. I broke down into tears and just thanked God for his amazing grace. We both cried and rejoiced.

God was so good to me and my friends that day. I don't know why, but He performed a minor miracle to help me get through and remain injury free. Both Ann and Theresa achieved PR's and Patricia and Bonnie were able to finish. Oh, and did you hear - an unofficial world record was set by the male winner. What an amazing day!

Praying for a miracle

Here's the sad and ugly truth. I'm sitting here trying to fight the urge to wallow in self-pity over my predicament. To comfort myself, I'm indulging in McDonald's fries and a strawberry shake. Great health food, I know!! Here's why -- It's almost two days until Boston and I'm not even sure I'll be able to finish the race. In my 13 years of running and of my 14 marathons, I've never gone into a marathon feeling this way before. I'm going into this race with a potential major injury. At the very least, I have a stress reaction in my foot. Or, it COULD be a stress fracture. I've had no MRI to confirm this, but have seen several health care professionals in the past couple of weeks and this seems to be the logical conclusion.

I knew going into this training that things wouldn't be ideal. For goodness sake, I had to train in the winter in the Midwest! What could I expect but lots of cold, snowy days running outside. But, I dealt with it. I sucked it up and did what I had to do. I wasn't killing myself this time around. I had already qualified, so my goal was to just put in the miles and build up to some speed and hill work so I could at least go into Boston prepared. More than anything, I didn't want a repeat of how I trained and ran Boston before. When I ran it in 2002, I was a full-time student and just barely squeezed in my training between classes, homework, and tests. I did just enough to finish, but not enough to have a strong race. Still, once I was in Beantown and surrounded by all those wonderful athletes, I convinced myself I could still push the pace. Once I started the race, I became intent on breaking four hours. All went well in the first half, but once I hit the Newton hills, I got a blister on my big toe. I was able to stay on pace, but finally, at mile 19, it broke. I had never blistered in a race before and didn't know how bad it was. I just knew it hurt with every step. For three miles, I searched for a medical tent. When I finally found one, I sat down, took off my shoe and sock, lubed up with Vaseline, and put on a band-aid. Once my foot was all mended, I took off and was able to finish the race. I don't remember much about those last 7 miles except it was a struggle. I remember that I started resenting the race and couldn't muster up the strength to try to enjoy myself by taking in everything around me. I was frustrated that I had a negative attitude and that my race hadn't gone as I had hoped. Still, I finished in 4:06. Not a bad time for me (based on the clock's standard), but a terrible time in terms of how I experienced what was supposed to be the best part of the race, the finish.

From the start of this training, I've said that finish time wasn't the important factor in my Boston race this time around. I just wanted to go back to Boston and try to redeem myself from all the negativity I experienced before. I wanted to take it all in this time and enjoy it as much as possible, especially the final 6 miles!

I don't know what God's plans are for me, but I know that goal may be difficult to attain on Monday. When I saw my chiropractor today, he said he wouldn't advise running, but he knows I will anyway. He just wants me to be prepared to stop in the race if the pain becomes intolerable. I'm sure if it gets that bad, I'll have no choice. There's a good chance it could become a stress fracture and I could do major damage if I keep running on it.

I have no idea what is going to happen on Monday. I'm praying for the best and for my ego to get out of the way so I can run smart and finish - no matter how slow. I've GOT to get time goals out of my head! I'm a pretty competitive person (I think all Boston qualifiers are) and it's going to be challenging to go against my nature. Only God can change this in me.

I am comforted by all the people who are praying for me. Thank you! I'm beyond any more physical help, so this is all I have left.

I'm sure there's a major life lesson in all of this, but I'm not at a point of analyzing it just yet. Give me time. I'm sure I'll have more to say when I get back.

Earlier, I felt at peace and I was okay with simply lining up at the start of Boston and just seeing how far I could go. I'm nervous and sad now. It's just a mix of emotions for me right now. My hope and prayer is that I can make it to the finish and get that Boston medal. I wish I had more faith, like Ralph in the movie Saint Ralph, to expect that God will perform miracles. I know He can. I just don't know if there'll be one for me.

A huge feeling of accomplishment

Today I did something I thought I would never want or have to do. I ran a 22 mile training run, solo!

When I was in high school, I saw my dad run marathon after marathon, and while I wanted to be a runner, I never saw marathoning in my future. That changed in my 20's when Eladio started Runner's Edge. Since I've started running distance, I've always had the luxury of doing my long runs with the group or at least with my running buds. Basically, I've always had company on my long runs. The farthest I've ever gone solo was something like 16 miles.

I could sense something was different about this training session. I was actually enjoying my solo mid-week runs when the weather was too frightful to run at 6 a.m. with my gal pals. These were by no means long runs, but they were farther than I'd been going on my own in quite some time. The suprising part was that I wasn't hating or dreading these runs. As I compared my training schedule with my growing calendar commitments, I started to figure I would likely have to get in at least one 20 miler on my own. I wasn't looking forward to this, but didn't feel like I had any choice. I kept telling myself that it would toughen me up and make Boston feel easier. I'm not sure about the latter, but now that it's over, I can definitely say it's toughened me up!

Here are some highlights of my run:
1. I started this morning before the rain was predicted to come, so I ran about 6 miles rain free. Thanks Dad and Felicia for watching the kids so I could go earlier!
2. I ran 4-7 mile loops around my house which helped break up the miles.
3. I endured a 5 minute hail shower followed by a heavy downpour.
4. Staying close to home enabled me to change my top and jacket once and my soaked shoes and socks three times.
5. Even though I didn't have a friend to talk with, I had my trusty iPod to keep me company. Special thanks to the "Spirit of the Marathon" and "Rocky" soundtracks!
6. My Garmin died at 20.86 miles, so although I don't have proof that I ran 22, you'll just have to trust me. :-)
7. I came home to a cup of hot chocolate and Minsky's supreme pizza. Both were incredible! Thanks Eladio!!

Acceptance and appreciation

I had an epiphany today -- I like my body! Taking a glance in my full length mirror after I was dressed, I had an instant appreciation for my body. I know this sounds vain, but you have to understand where I'm coming from to appreciate this new thought.

I am a born and bred perfectionist. Have been as long as I can remember, or at least since middle school when I couldn't tolerate getting an A-. It seems all my life I have fixated on being perfect in one area or another. If it wasn't school, it was my marriage, if not my marriage, then my kids. The list goes on and on. This past year, I could feel myself changing from this perfectionistic lifestyle. I found myself obsessing less and less over the things that used to be so important to me. By God's amazing grace, I finally starting seeing some transformation in my thinking.

When I was in the heart of training for the Quad Cities marathon last fall, I radically changed my diet. Well, I tried to change it overnight and that didn't really work. But, I did see some payoff. I lost some weight and gained some muscle tone. I was taking my kids to the pool frequently and everytime I put on my swimsuit, I noticed these minor changes in my body. It didn't take long and soon I was starting to get a little obsessed about my weight, my body fat percentage and getting toned abs and arms. Good thing that was at the end of the summer and swimsuit season was over before it could grow into a full blown obsession. Then, I ran my marathon and fulfilled my goals. As the weather cooled, I started donning my fall/winter wardrobe. All of the sudden, my clothes didn't fit right. Everything was fine when I was wearing shorts and tees everyday, but now my pants were falling off of me! I hated the way I looked in my jeans. Being the cheapskate I am, I didn't want to have to go out and buy a whole new wardrobe and commit to a smaller size, so I decided to gain some weight back by eating whatever I fancied.

That worked for me until about Thanksgiving. After that, I should have stopped, but the bad habit was formed and my cravings seemed to take over. I was on the fringe all December of barely fitting into my clothes comfortably, but I just couldn't seem to find the motivation to make the dietary changes I would need to in order to lose the weight.

Finally, the holidays were over and a new year began. Time for resolutions and for my Boston marathon training to start. This has helped, but not fixed everything. I was starting to worry that I might struggle with my weight and start obsessing about food. I don't want that!! I just want to eat right and enjoy some treats once in a while. I finally think I'm on my way to finding that balance.

It was just so nice to put on a pair of jeans today without a struggle and be able to look in the mirror and think, "I look pretty good." For once, I didn't pick apart my body and lay guilt trips on myself for not eating perfectly. I'm NOT perfect! I know, big news flash, right? LOL I'm saying it for myself. Today, I looked in the mirror and fully accepted myself, imperfections and all. That felt so good!

I hope every woman has a moment (or hopefully a mindset) like this at least once in her life. We are bombarded by images of so called "perfect" women and we are so good at worrying, feeling guilty, and doing everything we can to hide who we really are, I think these moments of acceptance are rare. I'm taking time today to appreciate that I had this moment and for today, I feel great about my body. I'm short, petite (sort of), have a small chest (which I LOVE), and have a full, round booty. :-) God has blessed me and I am thankful. I hope you can take a moment to appreciate what God has given you today too!

Finding motivation

Hello again! Happy New Year! I hope it's getting off to a good start for you. It's been good, but kinda slow for me. I'll catch you up to speed since my last post.

Yeah, yeah...ya know I qualified. Within a week of qualifying, I made my Boston hotel reservations. A couple weeks later, I applied for the marathon. Like thousands of others, I spent a couple of hours on my computer entering all my info and credit card number about 50 times before it finally went through. I waited anxiously another two weeks before I heard from the BAA that my application had been received and upon confirmation of my qualifying time, I would be accepted. I'm now on the entrants list for this year's race and that's good enough for me. Last week, I purchased my airline tickets. All I have to do now is to wait for my confirmation card with my race number. I think it should arrive in March or early April. Oh yeah, I guess I have to start training too!

That's been the hard part - staying motivated to run and think about training again. Since September, I've maintained running three days a week and my long runs have been between eight to ten miles. It's been enough to sort of keep me in shape and fitting in my clothes, but not what I really consider training. I did run the Sprint Thanksgiving Day 5K again in November and did surprisingly well with little training and speedwork. I finished in 22:06! I was quite pleased and shocked when I saw the clock at the finish line. In the last mile, I kept feeling like I was slowing down and was getting passed more than I was passing others. I assumed my finish time would be over 23 minutes, definitely not a minute faster!

Well, that was the last time I pushed myself. Each week since has become more and more of a struggle to find the motivation to do more than the bare minimum. I'm learning to be patient with myself and take things a day at a time. I don't want to get too excited too soon. Last weekend, I joined Runner's Edge for a long run and was hoping to do 10-12. I ended up running 14! Twelve of those miles felt absolutely great! The final two felt like the end of my marathon. I was glad to have done it so I don't have to run that long without the group this weekend. That was my motivation for even going that far. I think I'm going to have to resort to bargaining with myself to get into training mode again. I thought eating like crap during the holidays would do it. I totally let myself indulge in pretty much anything I wanted thinking that would satisfy me and I would want to get right into healthy eating at the first of the year. That hasn't really happened yet.

Yesterday was the first day I had any sort of motivation to do something other than run. For a half hour, I worked on my core, stretched, and did some strengthening exercises using a medicine ball. Boy, do I feel it today!! My glutes and hammies are not happy. I guess that's what I get for neglecting my other body parts for 4 months!

I did something else yesterday to get my mojo back. I figured I wouldn't feel up to running outside today with the freezing temps, but thought I could get excited about working on the dreadmill if I downloaded some new tunes on my new iPod shuffle. I finally took it out of the box yesterday (I got it for Christmas) and synced it up. I've been having computer issues lately, so it took longer than it should have to get it synced and charged up. After 6 hours, it was ready to go. My opportunity for running had passed by the point, so my run had to wait until today. With my shuffle in tow, I went to 24 Hour Fitness for a run.

Okay, so I knew it had been a while since I'd been to the gym, but I didn't expect anyone to notice. I walked in with my card in hand and gave it to the "trainer" at the front desk. He smiled at me and condescendingly said, "You haven't been here in a while, have you. We don't use cards anymore. We use your fingerprints and phone number now." I had to hand over my card and go through the process of getting fingerprinted before entering. So much for going unnoticed! At least everything else was pretty much the same.

Even though I just went 4 miles, I have to say it was the most enjoyable treadmill run I've ever had. It didn't hurt or feel uncomfortable like it usually does. I would have liked to have gone even longer (I never thought I'd say that!), but I had to finish up so I could pick up my son at preschool.

Maybe that's all I needed?! I don't want to think that I'm a runner who needs music to enjoy the experience, but I can say that I think music can enhance it. I still very much enjoy running and chatting with my friends, but when they aren't around and I'm stuck inside, I feel like I need my music to keep me going.

In case you're interested, here are some of the new songs that pump me up: We R Who We R by Kesha, Only Girl by Rihanna, and Satisfaction by Benny Benassi. I learned about the last song from our new Wii (a Christmas present). Can I consider doing Just Dance 2 games with my kids a form of crosstraining? This winter, anything that has gotten me off the couch and eating chocolate is a form of crosstraining!!

Well, that's the scoop for now. I'll write more as my training continues. I can't promise it will be inspiring, but I'm sure I'll have some stories to share. :-)

Fighting for seconds...

I did it!! I qualified! The short story - I finished the Quad Cities marathon in 3:44:15. The long story as follows...

As I wrote before the race, I was very nervous and somewhat doubtful going into my marathon that I would be able to qualify. My legs had felt tight and heavy all during taper week and I just couldn't seem to find much confidence. My nerves finally started easing a little on our drive to Quad Cities. Just having the race day closer and being surrounded by other runners made me feel better.

Once we picked up our packets and walked around the expo a bit, I had wanted to do a quick "shake out" run. I thought if I could move my body, I could help keep myself calm and focused. Sadly, the "shake out" run never happened. Partly because we were cutting it close to the pasta dinner and also because Eladio advised against it. The weather was cool and there was a light rain. He thought it would do more harm than good. Against my wishes, I followed his advice and went to the pasta dinner instead.

We got our assorted pasta dinner provided by "Noodles and Co." and settled down to listen to the keynote speaker, Dane Rauschenberg. He shared his experience of running 52 marathons in 52 consecutive weeks. At times it seemed like he was just bragging about his running abilities, but in the end, he shared some helpful words of inspiration. He said something to the effect of testing our boundaries and finding out what is impossible - since we usually already know what IS possible, why not see what is impossible. Those words came in handy the next day.

Finally, after dinner, we checked into our hotel. We stayed at the Radisson right at the start/finish line. The room was very nice! It was like a mini suite complete with a sitting room, refrigerator and microwave, two TV's and a sleep number bed. I set out my race clothes and gear and got into bed by 10:00 (still early for me). I read a little and watched some TV before turning out the lights around 10:30. Thankfully, I was tired from the road trip and stress of the week and was able to get to sleep quickly.

I slept soundly until the alarm rang at 4 A.M. Eladio got up while I stayed in bed for another 30 minutes. (I like waking up slowly). By 4:30, I was up and eating my pre-race banana and drinking water. I took a quick shower and then got dressed. I was pretty much ready to go by 6:00, but didn't have to be anywhere until 6:30. I was amazed at how many times I could use the bathroom in those short 30 minutes! My running buds (Ann, Mallika, and Renea) came to my room to drop off their bags and take some fun pre-race pictures. Finally, we headed out to the lobby to meet up with my dad and our other running buddies.

I had seen the weather forcast all morning, but I finally got to feel for myself the wonderful, cool fall weather we were going to have. Starting temp was 50 degrees and no rain! A couple more bathroom breaks, then at 7:10 my friends and I started our warm up. I don't know if we just went out too fast, but after 10 minutes, I started feeling hot and my legs were starting to work hard. I stopped and walked. We shed our warm up clothes and with 5 minutes to go, lined up at the start. I was getting panicked because I don't like cutting it that close in a marathon. I'm usually lined up no later than 10 minutes before the start. I ran and left my friends to find my spot. Thankfully, they were close behind and found me.

At last, standing at the start with minutes to go, I felt calm and ready. I still wasn't 100% confident, but at least I wasn't nervous anymore. I wished my friends good luck since I wasn't sure we would stay together for very long. Most of them were doing the half so they were going to take off sooner. The gun (or cannon, it sounded like) went off and within 45 seconds, I was across the starting line. The first mile was great! I bid my friends farewell as they got right into their half marathon groove and I took in the crowds as I let runners pass me by. I had my pace strategy down and planned to follow my pace band as closely as I could. My first mile was to be a 9:20. I kept glancing at my Garmin and had to keep slowing down until I got there. More runners passed by, but I didn't care. I ran with a smile on my face, happy that I was finally running my race and all the months of hard work led to this moment. No more waiting, no more worrying. I was going to do what it took (or so I thought). In those first few miles, I was passed by two pace teams, the 3:45 and 3:50 groups. My friend Mallika was following the 3:50 pacer closely. As we climbed up the large hills on the bridges, I reminded myself that the race isn't won in the end, but in those first precious miles. I was confident that as my pace increased, I would eventually catch the 3:50 group. I prayed that at some point I could also catch up and hopefully pass the 3:45 group too.

By mile 5, I was in my goal pace zone - 8:24 minute miles. But really, using the LapPace feature on my Garmin (which I highly recommend as the most accurate way figure out your pace), I knew I needed to be running between 8:15-8:19 minute miles. Having served as a pacer in the Kansas City and Hospital Hill half marathons, I knew that my Garmin would hit the mile mark before I got to it in the race. It has to do with the slight inaccuracy of the Garmin and the exact measurement of the course using all the tangents. Anyway, I knew where I needed to be. So far, so good. I was either right at or slightly below my average pace the first 10 miles. I don't know exactly what happened after that. Maybe there was a large hill/bridge crossing and/or I took a little too long at one of the not so well manned aid stations. Whatever the reason, I started falling behind pace after mile 10. By 13.1, I was 3 seconds behind my overall pace. (I was supposed to be at 1:51:53). I had my pace bands made to help me finish in 3:44:59. I wanted to do everything I possibly could to make sure I was under 3:45. I didn't want to have to rely on those extra 59 seconds. That would be too stressful. But now, I was starting to worry that I had hit a slowing trend and every mile was going to be a struggle from that point on.

It was! Not only was I slightly behind pace for silly reasons, but I also started noticing my legs were feeling tight and stiff. Thankfully, I didn't have any specific pain, but it felt like the start of cramping all around my quads and hamstrings. I was worried I wasn't getting enough electrolytes, even on this cool day. I have few complaints about this race, but they need to improve their aid stations! More volunteers are needed in the beginning miles where the 5K, half, and full are still together. And, they need to provide more Gatorade in those middle miles. At least I was prepared for this though. I had noticed on the website where fluids would be provided along the course. Gatorade was fairly abundant early on, but nothing, just water and GU, was provided between miles 13 to 21. I had brought 4 Hammer Gels with me and made sure I took some of the GU's they were passing out. Because of my fears of slowing down and my already tight legs, I took more gels than I ever have in a race - 6 total! I drank at every aid station except the last one. Although I never got the "jolt" I normally do from taking gels, I think they helped me tremendously, if not physically, than mentally. Just knowing I was doing something for my body made me feel better.

I wish I could tell you more about miles 13 to 22, but I was fighting the urge to slow down with every step and it took every ounce of mental energy I had to stay focused on my pace. Somewhere around mile 14 or 15, I saw a person carrying a pace sign not far ahead of me. I thought, Finally, I'm catching up to the 3:45 pace group! If I can just catch up to them or even pass them, I'll feel better about my slight slow down. It took about a mile, but I finally caught up to this small group of 3 or 4 runners. The woman carrying the sign was not the pacer I had met the day before at the expo. I had trouble reading the handwritten sign, so I asked if she was in fact the 3:45 pacer. She said she was running 8:35 minute miles and her plan was to finish in 3:45, but she was not the official pacer. I didn't have much energy to talk, but I mustered out, "You're behind pace." Recalling this now, I know it sounds rude and blunt. It's not something I would normally say. I just was frustrated that I was behind pace and here was this unofficial "pacer" carrying the pace sign and not even doing her job! I think pacing a few races has made me a little critical - (ya think?!). :-) A guy running with her thanked me for letting them know. He said his watch had stopped working a while back and he wasn't sure what they were running anymore. I decided they didn't know what they were doing and not to trust them the rest of the way. I had to rely on myself, my pace band, and the Good Lord to see me through.

Little by little, I began inching away from the unofficial 3:45 pacer and her chatty crew. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out how she had so much energy to actually carry on a conversation with people she just met. She acted like she was on a long training run! It was driving me bonkers, so I pulled away from the noise. I needed to get back into my head and into my pace. Somehow, the miles were clicking by. It wasn't easy and I still felt unsure that I would reach my goal, but I was reassured knowing that I would see Eladio, Ann, and my dad at mile 22. I thought if I can just hold on until then, I'll have one of them jump in and pace me in if I need help. I wasn't desperate yet, but knew I might be after 20.

Around mile 20, I got a little burst of energy and was able to get back down under my mile pace. I was still slightly over my overall time, but at least I wasn't losing any more ground. I noticed I was starting to pass other marathoners who had slowed, as well as some half marathon walkers and relay runners. It felt good to be the one passing and receive their encouragement as I went by.

At mile 22, we hit (ran through) "The Wall." It's literally a large wooden wall all the runners have to pass through. We had seen it on our warm up run and it was funny then. Not so much now. I was just relieved to know I would be seeing Eladio soon. There was no question now, I was going to need his help. I couldn't afford to slow down those last 4 miles. As soon as I went through the wall, I saw my crew cheering me on. I couldn't speak, but pointed at Eladio and moved my arms in a fast running motion. He said, "You want me to run with you?" I nodded and he jumped in. In that moment, he became my hero, my angel!

Over the next mile, I told him how I had been feeling and that I was struggling to make up some lost time. I asked him to pace me at 8:30 and to do whatever it took to keep me at that pace. Even though my pace band allowed for some slow down at the end, I didn't want to take any chances. Normally, I have issues running with Eladio. He likes to talk and make silly jokes, but he knew better than to do that now. I even told him to yell at me if I started to slow down. I needed to get angry if I had to, anything to keep me from slowing down. I didn't know, until later, just how badly Eladio was hurting at that point. He wasn't talking and joking just because I asked him not to, he couldn't! I didn't know that his calves had cramped up on him right after he finished the half. I did learn that he had reached his goal and broke 1:30. He ran a 1:28! I was very happy for him, but couldn't relax and be completely joyful just yet. I needed to stay focused and finish my race.

Just having Eladio by my side took off a lot of pressure. I no longer had to be so strong on my own. With him running next to me, I finally tried to talk a little. I started sharing how hard this race had been from the halfway mark and how surprised I was by that. The more I shared, the more emotions started flooding out. I about broke down at mile 23 when I told Eladio that I couldn't slow down. All my thoughts and feelings came out. I kept saying, "I'm fighting for seconds! I can't believe it's coming down to seconds! Seconds...seconds...seconds..." gasps, and tears... Eladio's response - "Don't do this now! You can't think about this now. Just work, focus, breathe! You can tell me about it when it's over. Keep going." I shut up and just thought about how many Saturdays I gave up with my kids, how long I had dreamed of this day, how many people had helped me get to this moment. I couldn't let them or myself down. I had to fight. Fight for every second! Make every second count! How would I feel if I missed qualifying by mere seconds?! No, it wasn't going to happen! I fought back. The tightness in my legs never ceased, but I didn't stop pushing back. Mile 24...just keep running. Mile 25...you're almost there! My Garmin beeped at mile 26 when I was at mile 25.5 on the course. I ignored it and looked straight ahead. Eladio pointed out the finish line. I looked down at my watch. It read 3:43 something with about a quarter mile left. I had two minutes to finish under 3:45. There was no juice left in my legs. I so badly wanted to sprint, but couldn't go any faster. Miss "Unofficial Pacer" came racing by me in the last 100 yards. I didn't care. There was no fight left in me. I just kept my pace and focused on not falling or cramping so close to the end. Eladio pulled off and I ran, no LEAPED, over the finish line. I did it!!! I threw my arms up in the air and yelled "Boston Baby!!" Official time - 3:44:15. (Consequently the exact same time as my KC 1/2 co-pacer, Stacy Scalfaro, when she ran QC at 35 and qualified for Boston too! How amazing is that?!!)

Whew! I'm exhausted just writing about all of this. It was a good day, but a tough race. I firmly believe God answered so many of my prayers that day. He gave me physical and mental strength when I was weak, He gave me peace at the start, and He enabled Eladio to be able to pace me at the end. I'm so thankful and humbled by God's grace and provision.

I learned a valuable lesson I'd like to share with you from this race:

If you have a time goal, you have to really want it, to go for it. At some point, you might have so much pain, you feel like you can't hurt anymore and you want it to stop - stop moving forward, stop putting your feet down, just stop.

At one point, I thought, "I'm already hurting. Going slower will just prolong the pain. I might as well keep up this pace and get it over with sooner." I've run marathons slower, much slower. In fact, most of my races have been above 4 hours. But what I have found, in all but one of my marathons, is that it's going to hurt at some point and I'll think about stopping or slowing down a lot in those last 6-8 miles. The goal and desire have to be big enough to get you through this pain. You also have to have faith and rely on more than just yourself in those moments.

Now that the hard work is done, I'm looking foward to pacing the KC 1/2 and then taking it easy the rest of this fall. I will be signing up for Boston 2011 when registration opens on October 18th. I can't wait to make it official!

Thank you for sharing in this journey with me and supporting me along the way!!

I'll consider posting more as I train for and then run Boston next April. Until then...Adios!

Marathon time!

It's two days before the big race. I've got major butterflies in my stomach and have had a hard time controlling my nerves this week. I'm trying to rest and find peace in the fact that I've done all I can and if I'm going to succeed, I have to trust in my training and let God do the rest.

After my last post, I ran a 5K and didn't do so well. Granted, I was tentative from coming right off my back injury and the course and weather weren't ideal, but I was still very disappointed. I ended up with a 23:10. That didn't do anything for my confidence! I sulked around for a few days, but then decided not to give up on all that I had worked for. I kept seeing my chiropractor and little by little, my back started getting better everyday. Thankfully, I was able to keep up with my workouts and do all the speed and goal pace that was on my original schedule. We had phenomenal weather the Tuesday after my race and I remember running my tempo pace at 7:30's and feeling comfortable. I was even able to talk some! That gave me a little boost of confidence and helped me realize that I hadn't run the 5K at my best. I started focusing my energy on doing well at the Labor Day 5K in a couple of weeks.

Everything finally seemed to fall into place for Labor Day. I woke up ready to race and my body was finally cooperating. Eladio told me I needed at least a 22:30 to make my marathon goal so I was shooting for a minimum of 22 minutes. Anything beyong that was extra. I decided not to hold anything back and just race without much concern for my pace. The gun went off and I went for it. My first mile was right at 7 minutes and my second mile was 7:10. Not willing to give in to slowing down, I fought back and finished under 22! My watch read 21:52, although my official time showed 21:55. I was very happy! I had reached my goal, and then some. Now my job was to stay healthy as I headed into taper mode for the marathon.

Taper is an interesting time. While it's nice to run fewer miles, the workouts don't necessarily get that much easier. I was still working on speed and doing even more goal pace miles during my runs. I wanted to make sure that I knew without a doubt what 8:24 felt like. (That's the pace for most of miles in my marathon).

Even harder than the physical part is the emotional/mental aspect of tapering. Every workout feels so important at this point because you're running out of time. There is no cramming or playing catchup at the end of training. You have to accept that you've done most of the work. Now you're just staying sharp until race day.

This week has definitely been the hardest mentally. I did some goal pace miles this week, but no real distance or speed. I can't do anymore work that will benefit me on race day. My legs and body need rest. While I try to give my body what it needs, my mind starts going crazy. I start obsessing about race day, the weather, and my strategy. All sorts of questions float in and out. Have I done enough? Will it hurt so bad I won't be able to carry on? Will I be strong enough? Can I do this?

I think some self-doubt is helpful, even necessary to run a smart race. It keeps me from feeling so confident that I'll do something stupid, especially in the early miles. But, too much self-doubt and it can backfire big time in the race. I need to have enough confidence that when it starts to hurt, I know, I TRUST, that I can handle it. That is my hope. I don't expect it to be easy, I just don't want to crash and burn.

So far the weather prediction is looking promising. The temps couldn't be better, 46 to 65 degrees. It's the 30% chance of rain and possible strong wind that makes me nervous. I like it on the cool side, but if it rains and there's a wind, that can cause some problems. I guess I'm going to have to pack extra to be on the safe side. I want to be prepared for whatever type of weather comes my way. I have no control of it, but I can control my response.

With no more work to do, there's nothing left to do but pray. I know my God is a God of mercy, a God of might, and a God of miracles. He can do anything! I've seen Him work minor miracles in my own life. Perhaps there will be another one for me on Sunday.

Never give up!

It's been a long time since I've posted and a lot has happened this training. This summer was way busier than I anticipated with daily activities with the kids and keeping up with my runs. That's no excuse really, but the time I did have to get on the computer was so little and I just didn't have the energy to write all about what I was doing. I'll recap for anyone interested.

In mid-June I started training for the Quad Cities marathon. I decided to go all out with this training in an attempt to get in the best shape of my life and hopefully requalify for Boston in my new age group and time division. During the first weeks of training, I radically changed my diet. I had gone from allowing myself to eat whatever I wanted to being very strict about what I put in my mouth. I stayed within these guidelines - no sweets, no excessivly salty foods, no fried foods, and little red meat. I cut off eating after 9:00 and was in bed no later than 11:00. I drank only water and the occasional juice with my breakfast. No coffee, no caffeine. For a couple of weeks, I did really well. The next few weeks, I slid just a little, but only to accomodate celebrating my mom's and son's birthday.

My running started tentatively because I was still nursing a sore ankle from my 1/2 marathon training in May. I figured I had a few weeks before speed work started, so no need to push the pace right off the bat. I kept to my weekly miles and kept the pace comfortable and relaxed. Finally, speed sessions started in early July. We did our first 2 mile time trial in unbearable heat - it was the first summer day in the 90's with high humidity. I didn't quite hit my goal of 14 minutes, but didn't do terribly either. I ran 14:21 and my ankle held up okay. Little by little, I did more goal pace miles on my Thursday runs and saw my chiropractor and massage therapist regularly to help with the tendonitis in my ankle. I knew I wasn't running at 100%, but did the best I could and felt blessed that I was still able to push hard and meet most of my daily goals.

The "diet" started paying off after a couple of weeks and I finally started noticing some weight loss and definition in my abs and arms. I added in core and upper body strength training on my off days. I was feeling good about my running and eating and felt right on track to hit my racing goals in August and September. I had wanted to do the Freedom Run 5K, but decided against it to give my ankle more time to heal. Plus, the time trial was a good indicator of my starting point anyway.

With things running smoothly and feeling like I was getting stronger, I finally felt confident enough to sign up for the marathon the first week of August. My ankle was still getting tight after my runs, but it didn't really bother once I was warmed up and running. I knew it was something I would have to keep addressing during this training, but didn't feel like it was stopping me from reaching my goal.

Then, we went on vacation. I guess I didn't think about how it might be a challenge to do my runs while away from home. I just thought I'd find a place and get it done somehow, someway. We drove to Chicago to visit my sister-in-law and her family and take the kids around downtown. I had talked with my nutritionist before I left and shared my concerns about not eating well while on vacation. She advised me on healthy snack foods for the car and reminded me to stay hydrated. I think I did pretty well on the drive, even though we stopped for ice cream by the end of the evening. I had run 15 miles that morning, so I didn't feel too guilty. Little did I know, that was the beginning of my downfall.

This was specifically the reason I wasn't going to allow myself any sweets. Once I start "cheating" on my diet, it makes it easier to cheat again and again. The next day, my sister-in-law took us to IKEA. I have always heard great things about that store and have never gone. After shopping a couple of hours, we worked up a little appetite. If you know anything about IKEA, you know their stores have a dining area and their specialty is Swedish meatballs. I couldn't resist trying them! I was on vacation, after all. That night, Eladio and I went to a movie and I scarfed down most of a dark chocolate candy bar I had bought at IKEA earlier. I was already up to 3 strikes against my diet and there wasn't any turning back from that point. The rest of the trip, I indulged in flautas, Haagen-Daaz ice cream, and IKEA's cinnamon rolls, among several other off-limit items.

Even with all this gluttony, I still got in 2 quality runs. I did my speed workout on Tuesday and ran goal pace on Wednesday night. By the time we got back on Thursday, I felt bloated and just knew I had gained several pounds. On Friday, I went right back into my core/upper body exercises with full force. I did more crunches than I normally do and focused heavily on the reverse crunches to try to help with the new pooch I had formed on vacation. The next day, I did my 22 mile long run with goal pace miles. It was a tough run!! I was tired still from vacation and sitting in the car a long time. I was dehydrated and just not ready for a long run in the heat. It was a relatively cool summer day, only in the 80's, but there was little shade on the rolling course. I made it through, but it didn't leave me feeling very confident about my marathon goal. On Sunday, we got up to go to church and everything seemed fine. I was a little tired, but nothing hurt out of the ordinary. At the end of the church service, I bent over to fix my shoe and when I got back up, my lower back was extremely tight. It felt like it just locked up on me. I could barely walk and definitely couldn't bend over to pick anything up.

I was like that the rest of the day and woke up on Monday not feeling much better. I called my chiropractor and saw him that afternoon. He examined me and took an x-ray. The news was not good. I've had lower back problems before, so I wasn't really suprised by what he found - disk degeneration and compression, and slight curve in my spine. I've been told all that before, but it's never really affected my running. I thought, I still have 24 hours before my speed workout Tuesday night, hopefully I'll be better by then and can still go. I went back to the doctor on Tuesday for a treatment/adjustment. He did his thing and my back was gradually feeling less tight and painful. I was about to leave his office without talking about my running plans, but then decided I should at least tell him what I was wanting to do and hope he went along with it. He did not. Instead,what he told me next floored me - no running this week. What?!! No way! I have to run this week. I'm in the middle, almost end, of training for my marathon. Every workout counts!! I can't miss a speed workout, I can't miss a goal pace run and long run this weekend. Plus, I had a 5K race scheduled on Sunday. Nontheless, he didn't want me running. I left the office after agreeing to hold off on the speed session that night, but secretly planning to run the next morning if I felt okay.

I came home defeated. A part of me was ready to just give up and call it quits. Thankfully, Eladio and some good friends talked me off the ledge and I decided to try to remain hopeful and take it one day at a time. Not wanting to miss a workout, I went for a swim. That helped a little. Against my doctor's recommendation, I went for a short, easy run on Wednesday. My back didn't hurt, at least not any worse than when I was just standing. I took it easy the rest of the day and iced and stretched like my doctor said. I saw my chiropractor again on Thursday and my back was feeling much better. Not 100%, but still about 80% better. After he worked on me, I went for a short run around his office. The only pain/tightness I noticed was in my ankle. Same as it has been, maybe a little more. I came back to the office and he worked on that too. Finally, he said I could run again and could possibly even do the 5K. I would just have to listen to my body and stop if I felt pain. Yesterday, I was able to run 8 miles with 2 at goal pace. It wasn't perfect, but I had no back issues and just some tightness in my ankle. I can tell my cardio and heat acclimation has been weakened some by my lack of running this week, but at least I'm not giving up on my goal just yet. I have this 5K tomorrow and I'm going to see how my body responds. I don't expect I'll set a PR or even come close, but if I can run a sub 23, I'll feel pretty good.

I'll try to do better at updating this blog. I no longer think I need to post all my goals and aspects of my training to help keep myself accountable. Even though I haven't done absolutely everything I had hoped to this training, I'm proud of what I've done so far. I'm not perfect, but I'll keep trying. One of my favorite sayings - "Fall down seven times, get up eight."