Why We Love Our 26.2 Stickers

"Those who enjoy their own emotionally bad health and who habitually fill their own minds with the rank poisons of suspicion, jealousy and hatred, as a rule take umbrage at those who refuse to do likewise, and they find a perverted relief in trying to denigrate them." ~ Johannes Brahms

So, once again, a runner-hater a$$hat has found traction in the running community...and we all band together and defend ourselves, and in the process, give said a$$hat, the attention he so desperately needs in his pathetic little life.

I'm not here to give him any more attention and I won't post a link to his drivel, for all you really need to know of this piece is the following:

"You’ve seen them a lot recently. The little oval stickers on the back of cars that say “13.1" or “26.2" or some other seemingly random number. The number relates to running, 13.1 being the distance of a half-marathon. And every time I see one of these stickers I just want to run it off the road.

It’s amazing how three numbers and a decimal point can single-handedly turn someone into a big, arrogant butthole."

He erroneously claims that stickers on cars are meant to show that we are "fans" of something - which is a bogus claim at worst and incomplete claim at best. When I stick a sticker on my car, it is not to show that I am a 'fan' of something. Sure. I am saying 'I like X", But the REAL purpose is that it is an attempt to single myself out as an individual - to other individuals who may be like me: political stickers, team stickers, various sports stickers, dog breed stickers, school sticker (oh, he should attack all those "My kid is an Honor Student ..." crap. Sheesh. Talk about braggers!!!),vegan, animal rights, gun/hunter (nut ;) rights...whatever it is...we want to connect with others like us.

Here's why we love our running stickers: We are members of a tribe. We love seeing other members out there. We greet each other out on the roads and trails when we run AND when we drive. We wear our race shirts for the same reason...And, because pride is NOT the sinful thing he seems to be intimating! We've done things we have every right to be proud of. And, what WE do has no bearing on what you do or do not do. 

This is a case of flawed logic and small minded jealousy, with a dash of ignorant hate thrown in.

Am I bragging with my stickers??? No. It's JUST FECKING RUNNING! BUT,  I am proud to be a member of this amazing, inspiring, life-filled, inclusive, welcoming, encouraging tribe.

As Socrates argues in the Apology (and I am taking creative liberties with his argument): It is best to make yourself the best 'you' you can be. Stop trying shut-up those who are doing better, or encouraging you to be better.  Worry about your own soul. You are not made better by putting other, who are trying to be better, down.

Oh. How arrogant! And, Yes. I need to add that 50 miler sticker stat!!!! I'm such an arrogant butthole.

The Solitude of the Solo Runner

“The long-distance run of an early morning makes me think that every run like this is a life - a little life, I know - but a life as full of misery and happiness and things happening as you can ever get really around yourself” ~ Alan Sillitoe

The Routine: Up early for a shake out jog. Kiss the kiddo and husband goodbye - and off I go. At this point no one even notices that I'm leaving. There's the cursory wish of 'good luck', but it's just same old, same old now. I pull away thinking, "It wasn't always like this". Park the car at the long term lot, jump on the shuttle to the terminal (calf cramps kick in with a vengeance), through security, to the gait. All so predictable. Board the plane with 101 purple T-shirted Denver Landscape Co. employees off for a debaucherous company weekend trip to Sin City. It's 9 a.m. and they are in full on parrrtaaaaaaaaay mode. As we board, one remarks: "Well, the good news if that it's currently 92 in Vegas." My response, "Not good news. I'm running a marathon tomorrow." They all stare at me incomprehensibly...Fly...Land...two shuttles to the 'cheapo' rental car office...and then off to St. George, through the desert. 90 miles per hour feels like a crawl through this immense space...So, I call Cecilia...Why not. I'm finally sitting down. And I have time...and I drive and talk...She is supposed to be here with me, but life got in the way. She doesn't really believe I've gone by myself...

It's been many years since I have been here. Hmmmm how many?? Must be 13+? More??? I have spent A LOT of time around Vegas and St. George during my serious rock climbing days - before the house, the kid, the too-many-hours-of-work, and before I started running races again...Yes. When I was young. And this becomes a bit of a trip down memory lane. I cruise through the Virgin River Gorge, a place I've spent countless hours climbing, zoom past Cedar Pocket where we used to camp, and glance up the barren rocky hills where I've run so many miles, so long ago...

As I approach St. George the town feels like an old friend. I remember it all. I find my hotel, freshen up, and head to the expo. I hate expos, so I'm in, get my packet, t-shirt, stop at information for bus pick-up parking info...head off to the bus pick-up to scope out the situation...off the Starbucks to get a cup of Joe for the morning...and then back to the hotel where I will not move for the rest of the day...

I watch crap TV and a movie on Netflix, and eat as much salty stuff as I have. My calves are still giving me grief. I tell myself "Eh, it's happened before with no issues during the race. It's fine." Still, as I try to relax my left calf and shin feeling like it is in a vice - like the fascia is squeezing the bejesus out of the muscles. I eat my dinner (yes, brought with me from Colorado) 'hangout' on facebook, check in with the runners I coach running marathons this weekend, phone home, read for a bit, set a couple alarms for 4 a.m. and turnout the light...And the second I close my eyes, what I see in my head, is my waking with the sun up...I see myself oversleeping. The whole day I have been remarkable relaxed, and in an instant this thought creeps in and will not loosen it's grip for the remainder of the night. This is a problem with traveling solo. You are alone. Hell, I could die in my sleep and no one would know...and so, I spend a restless night arguing with the useless thoughts in my head...

I finally get up at 3:50, and 10 minutes later both (feckin') alarms go off.

Since I'm up early, I shower in a futile attempt to wash the blood-shot from my eyes...dress, plan the gear check bag, and off to the bus pick up... Wait on line with a couple guys from CO. Everyone around me seems to have run this one before. I get the course beta. The bus ride is LONG...through the darkness. We pass flood light lit aid stations, where we will be at some point, but on foot...and then reach the start area lit up like daytime - flags line the start area, blowing frantically in the 25 mph winds. The air is choked with bonfire smoke, and the whole start area resembles an over crowded refugee camp. We are delayed about 15 minutes, the last buses arriving literally minutes before the start. Wheelchairs are off...And we are off.

It's still dark and I can't see my blasted watch. Heat blankets blow across the road like tumble weeds, and make for a bit of an obstacle course. Eh, just take it easy. The first 7 miles are perfect, though I do note that my quads are not feeling as fresh as I'd like. Starting at 8 miles the course goes up. The hill out of Veyo is steep and a mile long. And for the next 7 miles we go up mostly with an occasional down. The sun pops above the mountains to the east, and within minutes the temperature climbs noticeably.

At 15 miles I pop into a porta potty and then race out to make up for lost time...and at this point we crest the high point. I look down the hill, toward Snow Canyon, and all I can think is, "I could ski this thing." It's STEEP. I mean really steep. I try to run light and quick, spinning down the hill, but as it lets up for a bit, I feel the fatigue in my quads rising.

One of the things I really did not anticipate was the steepness of the downhills. I ran a lot of downhill training runs. I'm good at downhills (there's not much I am good at), but this was too downhill. Maybe it was the downhill half I ran two weeks earlier, I wonder - perhaps that was too much, too close - but whatever it is, the down was NOT agreeing with me on this day.

And so it goes...down down down. And I am beginning to feel zings of cramps in my left calf and both quads. I pull it in on the downhills, and pick it up when things flatten out, but I'm really trying to avoid a colossal meltdown. I started out with a small handheld full of HEED and intended to chuck it and use the aid stations, but the aid stations are a total cluster - they have them only on one side of the road and they are too compressed. There's banana peels, orange and melon rinds, Vaseline sticks, etc covering the ground and everyone comes to a complete stop. So, I hang on to the handheld, refill it with Gatorade and water, and forgo as many water stops as possible, grabbing the occasional cup of water to pour over my head.

When we get into town, the heat is building. Someone hands me a baggie of ice, and though I've only got 2 miles to go, I clumsily peel it open and pour in down my bra. At this point I'm having non-stop cramp-zings shooting through my legs and I'm trying to just keep going and not fall flat on my face as one hits mid-gait. As we turn the last corner, I see what I believe is the finish ahead and just do my damnedest to get there without completely seizing up. Each time I press, my body presses back.

 But somehow I manage to cross...3:46:36.

And that makes it 1 minute and 37 seconds off my goal of sub 3:45. Why did I want sub-3:45??? It's the Chicago guaranteed entry qualifying time. So, I guess I'll try again on that one - but this time might be good enough to get me into the second wave at Boston. Looking on the bright side.

And though hot and tired and crampy and a little disappointed, I do muster a little smile ;)

I hang around the finish area hoping to catch Monica, a runner who I coach but have never met in person. I know that if things have gone well she should be close behind. As I stumble over to bag check and creakily try to replace my newtons with Birkenstocks, I hear "I think I know you". I look up and it takes a moment to register that it's Monica. A person I know!! I haven't seen anyone I know in 2 days. We hobble off to find her family.

Monica is ecstatic, having just run a 27 minute PR and a 4+ minute BQ. And with this news, my own disappointment melts away. She has just experienced the magic of the perfect race. I can feel it radiating from her pores.

We hangout for a while, and I savor the brief human companionship, and then I make haste back to the hotel to shower, checkout and head back to Vegas for my flight home...and alone again, I head back through the desolate desert. I have a couple hours to kill so I head west of the city out to Red Rocks Canyon, where my husband and I have spent a lot of time climbing and I had some of my more memorable road-trip sends (that's rock climber lingo for completing a route/project).

As I stand at the entrance of where the old Oak Creek Campground used to be (climber digs), taking this picture, I think back...and back. Another time. So much is different. So much remains the same. The first time I saw these formations I was 31 years old - 20 years ago. How can that even be? I stand there for a very long time...and think. 

I make my way back to Vegas, drop off the car, shuttle off to the airport, 2 hours to kill...and, finally, have a giant IPA in hand. I have no one here but myself, but I strike up numerous conversations with strangers, watch people be people, and again feel deeply thankful to be blessed with the life I have had and do have.

And the fact is, that it is these alone trips that allow me to tap into these things. So, while it can be lonely, it's more often a solitude that reveals things that need to be felt again.

Loneliness expresses the pain of being alone and solitude expresses the glory of being alone. ~ Paul Tillich

Your Theory Is Crazy, But It's Not Crazy Enough To Be True.

"We are all agreed that your theory is crazy. The question which divides us is whether it is crazy enough to have a chance of being correct. My own feeling is that it is not crazy enough." ~ Niels Bohr

When I was pregnant, the hospital wanted all expectant couples to take a birthing class. The problem was, that finding a class that met at a time when both my husband and I could attend, given our totally whack teaching schedules at that time, was difficult to say the least. So I started canvassing my mommy friends: "What did you learn from birthing classes?" I asked. The unanimous answer was: "To breathe in and out like this, (with accompanying demonstration)." Hmmmm. Well, is that worth all the fuss and bother?? I asked my OB/gyn: "Do you think I should take a birthing class?" And her response was: "It all depends on your and your husband's comfort level with the whole thing. If you aren't worried, and if your husband isn't worried, then it's not necessary." Well this was probably about 6-7 months into my pregnancy and so I figured, yeah, I'm not super worried. I mean women have been giving birth for thousands of years. I'm sure I can do this. Empirically, the theory seemed sound.

And then week 39 hit.
And my belly popped out like a freakish overripe watermelon - and I looked at myself in the mirror and thought "OMG. This thing has to get out of me!"

And then my theory began falling apart, challenged by the bare reality of the thing.
And yet. Somehow it all worked out.

"An ounce of action is worth a ton of theory" ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Now: It's November, 2013, about a week after running the NYCM. I'm warming up for the USATF Club X-Country race in Boulder when I receive a message from Sandra - something to the effect of: There's a screaming deal for the Des Plaines River Trail Race 50 miler, Oct 2014 - But you need to register by midnight. Now the idea of running a 50 miler has been popping in and out of my head for a while, so I figure, what the hell?? If I don't run it, it's not a huge deal, right??? Of course that works in theory, since the registration fee was so small - but then there is that thing about signing up for a race and the feeling of commitment it carries with it...so the money isn't the issue, but that second part? Yeah. Not so easy to ignore.

Now, Fast forward to April 2014. Registration for the St. George Marathon quickly approaches. Because the race graciously allowed me to defer my 2013 entry due to the flood in Boulder, I'm set to run 2014 - and it's 2 weeks before the 50 miler. I ask if I can defer to 2015, pretty sure that's not gonna fly, and as expected, it's a no-go. So...decisions, decisions...

So I think long and hard on what my approach should be. And my reasoning goes as follows: St. George is hard to get into. St. George is one of the best courses in the country. It would be a shame to turn this into a training run for a 50 miler - plus it's a little too close for that to be ideal. The truth is that I really want to race St. George. I don't want to just run it. BUT training for a marathon and a 50 miler are entirely different beasts (that's MY approach anyway) - so, to train well for both at the same time is a foolhardy, ill-advised  goal: If I train for the 50 I will be overtrained and undertrained for St. George (in different ways). If I train right for St. George, I'll be just plain ol' undertrainined for the 50. What to do...what to do...

So, my decision in June was: Train for St. George, give it my best, and survive the 50 miler 2 weeks later (and I won't even worry about Philly 4 weeks later. Ugggg).

And this all made perfect sense until about a week ago, when the reality started to set in. Add to this reality the fact that I'm training several people for 50 milers, one of whom is running the DPRT. Seeing what 'my runners' are doing vs. what I'm doing is a little nerve wracking. I mean they're all doing great - BUT I'm not doing any of that. Oy. What have I gotten myself into.

Was I suffering from hubris back in June when this theory seemed to make 'the most' sense??

But here I am. It's too late, now, to do otherwise. I will have to stick with the plan and see where it leads. But, like approaching labor and delivery, I'm getting a wee-bit anxious about my theory that made so much sense several months ago.

Time will tell the tale...Somehow, it will all work out.

"In theory there is no difference between theory and practice. In practice, there is. " ~ Yogi Berra

Running and Cheating

 "A lie dies not consist in the indirect position of words, but in the desire and intention, by false speaking, to deceive and injure your neighbour." ~ Jonathan Swift

Registration for the 2015 Boston Marathon opens up this coming Monday. Many will be vying for a coveted spot in this race of races - experience of experiences - for runners. Five years ago I had few thoughts of ever running Boston, or really caring much either way. Boy have things changed...

After last years Boston Bib Counterfeiting scandal, I started thinking about some of the scams and cheating I've witnessed in running over the years. I asked a question on Facebook (posted in some running groups and my 4000+ friends and followers) about how people feel about cheating in races. Most of the responses were on the order of: Well, that's their deal and they should feel like crap but I'm not going to say anything. Well, I have said things (usually ignored). And the sad thing is that cheating doesn't only cheat the cheater, it cheats us all.

A runner who I coach got her BQ this spring after training like a crazy woman through a grim Wisconsin winter. She mentioned that she saw a pace group (the 3:45 group, so a BQ for some) cut the course short by several 100 meters. She called out 'cheaters' at them, but they went on their merry way - On to get their BQs and PRs and dreams of cheating glory. Something to be proud of? Consider the runner I coached to a 13 second BQ last year, who gave everything she had on that day and on every training run, day in and day out, who didn't get a spot because it filled before her time qualified in. How many cheaters were ahead of her? This isn't just about the cheater. This is not just a self-regarding vice. Cheating hurts others by stealing from them what you do not earn.  

Five years ago I ran my second marathon, 15 years after running my first marathon, the Maine Marathon, in Portland, Maine. When I ran that first marathon I had no clue what I was really doing, I just ran it. I trained a little - ran some long runs and had been maintaining a steady diet of 50-70 mpw in those days, even though I had given up racing several years prior. I just ran, and ran a lot. And so for kicks I ran a marathon, in the pouring rain and 35 degrees. And I had no idea what my BQ time was. I knew I'd be moving from Maine to Colorado soon for graduate school anyway, so running Boston out of the question. Several days after crossing the finish of that first marathon I discovered that I missed qualifying by 21 seconds. Whatever. I didn't care.

Now, fast forward to 2009. September, Boulder, Colorado. I'm toeing the line for my second marathon. My only aim is to complete it since I made a pact with the powers that be that if I recovered from an injury I was told I would never recover from, then I would run a marathon and raise money for a charity. I need to finish so that I can collect the dough and make good on the promise.

At the start the mercury is already climbing into the 70s with a steady, dry, desiccating wind, and the forecast is for the high 80s. But hey, I just need to do it, I don't need to do it fast.

This was one of the most painful experiences of my life. I swore off marathons FOREVER. Somehow I got 3rd in my age group. And this led me to look at the results and that led me to notice something odd about the 2 women who beat me, both of whom managed to get BQs on that cloudless 88 degree day - not a drop of water or Gatorade to be found and with the unnerving sounds of sirens ringing through the air.

At the 10k mat my split was 55:05 (about an 8:55 pace). The two women who beat me were running together and hit 10k at 1:15:05 - 20 minutes behind me and running about a 12 minute per mile pace. At just past the 13 mile mark the course does an out and back off of a loop which leads back to the finish - turning around at 17ish miles (no mats at the turnaround), and then crossing a mat at 20 miles. I started coming undone at about 16 miles and by 19 miles the cramps took hold. At 20 my pace had slowed to 9:30ish and then the final 6 miles was a slow hobble, ending in my slowest marathon @ 4:27. The women who beat be had no 20 mile split after which it joins back up with the loop. These things happen. Technology is not infallible (I had people freaking out when one of my splits never recorded in NYC last November and yes, I did run the whole thing). But BOTH chips didn't record??? Hmmmmm.  Their finishing time was 3:57. A 9:04 average pace - which, if you calculate the pace they would have had to run from that 10k mark, means a blistering negative split on a very hot day. Maybe not impossible, but very very very unlikely. The fact that they BQed by almost 3 minutes (at that time the time they needed was 4:00) made me question the lack of that intermediate split and how they could have managed running that time when at 10k they were on pace for a time well over 5 hours. Could they have actually run this race in it's entirety? I went to looked at their race pictures - both wore long black tights and skirts. Hmmmm. This was a small race. I certainly didn't see them pass me. I would have noticed that attire on that day. I wrote to the RD. He said he would check into the irregularities and get back to me. He never did...This was all before I ever cared about running Boston, and BQs and all of that. But now I see this extra dimension added to the problem of cheating.

Last year I ran the Great Cranberry Island 50k. This race is also a Boston qualifier and records your marathon split but the BQ only counts if you finish the 50k. The race is about 8 laps up and back down the one road on the island (I should say 'was' because 2013 was the last year this race was run). The turnarounds have no mats. The start/finish area which you cross 8 times and the marathon point were the only mats. At one point I saw a woman turn around about 1/2 a mile before the turnaround at the boat landing. It was in a more heavily treed area where I saw people occasionally hop behind a tree to pee, but in this case I saw her turn around early. At this point she was one of the top female runners in the race, so I kept an eye on her. At some point she dropped out, and I let the whole thing go. But the fact is that anyone could have done that. When I saw her there was a little lull in the runner traffic, and she may have not seen me. As the day went on, people became more spread out. So, did others do this??? Did others see others do this. Do any of us care??

Earlier this year I was a course marshal for a half marathon/10k combo. My station was just about 100 meters past the 10k turnaround (again, no mat at the turnaround). At first my attention was consumed by directing traffic and making sure the half marathoners didn't get run over. But as things slowed down I glanced up the road and noticed people randomly turning around on the 10k route, not anywhere near the actual turnaround point. And did anyone say anything? I didn't hear anything. So I started yelling at the perpetrators that they turned too early. I was after all a course marshal so I should be doing this - but that actually wasn't what I was sent out to do.

Sure, maybe none of this matters in the grand scheme of things, but I doubt I'm the only one who sees this stuff.  

Well, maybe no one else cares about this but I do. When my runner told me about what happened with the pace group, I contacted the RD. I thought that he should know what his pace leaders, at the very least, were doing and in plain sight. Did anyone else say anything (I know my runner did)? How many of these people will be sending in their registrations for Boston next week? How many people who deserve to run will be locked out due to the numbers game?

What I find so disheartening is the apathetic, 'It's all good', 'Whatever' type attitude that so many seem to adopt. Why? Probably because it's easy. It's hard to call people on their crap. It's hard to stick one's neck out.  And in our silence, we become complicit. One of the character building aspects of sport, the character we carry with us into the world at large, is the satisfaction of honest effort and clear outcomes. Cheating has no place here. But, it's easier to shake one's head and go get a beer...

“There can be no liberty for a community which lacks the means by which to detect lies.” ~ Walter Lippman

Blog Hopping...And Hoping: And A Little About Me

“I can shake off everything as I write; my sorrows disappear, my courage is reborn.”  ~ Anne Frank

It's been a Loooong summer at my house and besides running, working and child entertaining I have had neither the time nor the mental/creative energy to write a blasted thing - and this makes me very sad, and frustrated.

So when I was asked by Diane Wilhelm to participate in a little 'blog hop' thingamajig, I thought, "Oh goodie, something to get my writing butt in gear". Of course I received her message at about midnight, after a 3 hour frenetic, exhausting drive through the Colorado mountains capping off a day of watching and waiting and preparing to run and then not running...etc etc etc...at Leadville 100.

So after that "Oh goodie" thought, came the "Crap. I'm exhausted. I can't do more". But I said "Yes".  And here I am plucking away at the keyboard, and I want to thank Diane for the nudge - for thinking of me and spurring me to action. I really need a swift kick in the patooty, but this works too! I have missed writing entirely too much, and without writing I lack grounding. And so here goes...

You can check out Diane's post at: http://www.boldmovesdiary.com/something-different/

The Blog Hop is titled: "My Writing Process" and it covers these four questions:

1. What am I working on?

A better question might be: What am I not working on??? Golly, I have so many things percolating around in there, that it's a mess of craziness in my head. I have a million and one projects: Book ideas, half written blog posts, short stories (Yes, I USED to write fiction - but that's too scary to share ;) , that sometimes I don't know where it begins and ends.

It would be lovely to say: Oh, yes. I'm working on a book - I mean who isn't working on a book??? It seems that everyone I know has either written a book or is writing a book. Even my husband has written a book and is working on another, and I have to live with him! So, yeah. I feel like a total loser.

At this point I just need to get back in the habit of writing and carve out some little bit of time to do it. But my life right now makes this very difficult. And yet, it's true, I believe, that we make/find time for what matters...and so if it matters...

My dad was great story teller and writer, and always bemoaned his lack of time for reading and writing. His sense of duty, to take care of so many things he may have cared less about (though he cared about taking care of others which lead to his actions) meant he never made the time. These opportunities don't just fall into our laps. You really must go after it with a pitchfork. Now that he is gone, I find this a tragic thing. I don't want to follow in those shoes...

2. How does my work differ from others in my genre?

I guess you would call this blog a 'running' blog, but more often than not I'm not writing about running itself but something I thought about while running or something that running and life share in a general sense. As a college philosophy instructor for 16 years, I find it impossible not to bring philosophy into every aspect of my life. So, it is an essential part of how I view the world, and that comes out in my writing. Sometimes my approach is pretty analytic and I pick things apart to make sense of them and other times it's synthetic, and I try to put the seemingly disparate pieces of existence together in an attempt to make sense of things that just don't always make sense.

This blog is also fairly personal, and this is a good thing and bad thing. I'm thankful that my mother doesn't read it. I've opened myself up a few time here and shown things to complete strangers what I have never shown to those closer. Perhaps it's the anonymity of the interwebs that makes me feel comfortable doing this, but for a fairly private person, it's strange and risky and scary. And yet it's the scary posts that I've received the most heartfelt response to - when I reach out and readers reach back, and it helps them and it helps me - and so, it's worth the risk. If I am nothing else I am always ME. What every that is, it comes out, even if I don't know what it is.

I was once told, after I started my own business, that I needed to watch what I wrote. I thought long and hard about that, and honestly, this idea made me feel pretty sick, and it didn't make me feel very good about myself. I have to sensor ME? How depressing is that?  I decided that I had to continue being me, and if people didn't like it then they needn't work with me. Period. I am always who I am, and I don't want to associate with anyone who wants/expects me to be other than I am. That may make me a bad businesswoman. So be it.

“Don't bend; don't water it down; don't try to make it logical; don't edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.” ~ Franz Kafka

3. Why do I write?

Oh dear...Why do I write??? Well, I've always written, though sharing what I write is a more recent thing - and initially I kept my identity under wraps because it was just too terrifying to attach my writing to ME. I need to write. It's like I need to run. I need to love. I need to connect. I need to go out into nature every-single-stinkin-day. I need see beautiful things. I need to see that there is, somewhere, justice in the world. We have needs and we have wants. Part of understanding who I am is knowing the difference between these two things. My life is richer when I view it through a writer's eyes. It is just that simple. I see things differently when I write - when I'm in the midst of a writing project. 

“We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.” ~ Anaïs Nin

Socrates maintained that we are most human when we are discussing and arguing. I suppose this is my way of being human. Writing is the attempt to reach out, out into that great big world out there, and to connect, somehow, with someone.

4. How does my writing process work?

Oh, I really don't have a "writing process".  When I'm inspired to write about something I just sit down and do it. Some posts take 20 minutes to write, and some take 2 days. I rarely work on anything for longer than a couple hours, and even that is rare. When I sit down to write I am there because I have something that is bursting at the seams and must be released. My ideas usually come to me when I'm running, and my best writing (as in most satisfying to me) happens when a thought is fresh and vivid. When an idea takes me by the throat and shakes me a bit. That's when it's good - for me, that is.

I wish I could be more purposeful, more methodical. I remember reading about John Cheever, everyday, sitting down at his desk in his underpants and just writing. Writers who do it day in and day out and are disciplined - Oh, how I admire that. There was a time in my life when I would have loved to call myself a 'writer' (Okay. I still would), but without that discipline, it doesn't happen. I suppose if I could simplify the other stuff, then that could happen, but now life is overflowing - which is good, and hard. Then again, that is just another excuse...

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” ~ Ernest Hemingway

So that does it, as a start, for me. For now. And so I hope, as with most things, that this will spur me on, and get me thinking again in a way that gets my life vibrating again. For that's what writing does. And running. And love. And that's why we're here. To vibrate. For all we really are is energy. Shake it up...

Next week:  I'm handing off the baton to two bloggers who I know well and admire as people and writers:

Danica Lucker @ http://www.runworkliverepeat.com/, A fellow 'running' blogger who has supported my efforts from the get-go, and is the real deal in writing and running and parenting and all the other hats she wears.

Peter Beal @ http://www.mountainsandwater.com/ , who is my husband. Yes. Talk about nepotistic. But I wouldn't have ever started blogging without his example and encouragement - and he will also try to take credit for my blog name - but in fact that was a collaborative effort. He writes about rock climbing, nature, art and much much more.

Courage: An Active Virtue

"You will never do anything in this world without courage. It is the greatest quality of the mind next to honor." ~Aristotle

“A man with outward courage dares to die; a man with inner courage dares to live.” ~ Lao Tzu  

I've spent a fair amount of my life chewing over the qualities, attributes, ideas surrounding, meanings attached to, implications of, possible ramifications of, confusions over: Courage, authenticity and integrity.

These were things I delved into in graduate school, though that was hopelessly out of fashion in uber analytic American philosophy. So this became a personal, somewhat private, obsession. I wrote my masters thesis on Integrity but that question remains unsettled as all essential questions often do. But recently I've become more consumed by questions concerning courage. Perhaps it's because I fear I lack this most primary of virtues. Or perhaps it's because I fail to see courage when it's there.

 And I wonder; Am I possibly confused about what courage looks like? What it actually IS?.

So what is courage? (and no. This is not the first, nor is it likely the last, time I've written on this) Well, obviously one way of looking at it is as the virtue of acting in the face of fear, danger, standing your ground (literally or morally). It's feeling fear, recognizing that a situation is perhaps threatening, and dealing with it rationally while still feeling the fear. As Aristotle says: Courage is feeling just the right amount of fear - not too much (cowardice)  and not too little (foolhardiness).  Courage is dealing with a situation based on the realities of the situation itself PLUS your individual ability to respond to the situation. Bah blah blah. I'm not so interested in this kind of courage right now.

Because courage is also something else - something perhaps even bigger. It's not just a reactive virtue. That is, it's not just something we need when some situation is foisted upon us - it is a virtue we need in order to create a meaningful life - and that is the ACTIVE side of courage. When something is pressed upon us we have little choice but to respond in some way - and hopefully we will do well. But what about the courage when we act on something even when we are not forced into it.

Runners get this. As silly as running is, we are a little bit courageous every time we step out the door for a run (it's safer to stay on the couch or stay in bed) - every time we sign up for a race - every time we toe the line with butterflies in our stomachs. AND especially when we do something that pushes us out of our comfort zone - and where that zone lies is entirely individual. And that is an active choice. It doesn't happen to us. We do not have to do this thing. We choose to do it. And that choice changes us forever. We are not the same person after as before. That act of courage contributes to our characters - a courageous character - whether we see it as such or not. But, if you just do the same thing over and over, if you do the things you are pretty sure you can do, does that require courage? Yes, I think it does a bit, but not as much as when we do something that scares us.

We (like to feel/believe that we) are all safe in our little corners of the universe - the ones where we feel confident, in control, safe, or at the very least, not in peril (of course this is a colossal lie, but it makes us FEEL we have control). But that is not what we are here for. What we are here for is to discover what we have to give, where we can go with this one life we know we have (others are as yet unconfirmed). And every single time we do one thing that makes us feel uncomfortable and scared but also a little bit excited, then our lives become greater - for that spreads out into all aspects of life.

Think about something that scares you but also makes you smile inside and out, and you feel a little gitty at the mere thought of it - at the audaciousness of it. And then do that.

 “You cannot swim for new horizons until you have courage to lose sight of the shore.” ~ William Faulkner

Courage is found in unlikely places.” ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

Why I'm Not a 'Real' Running Mom

 “I’m probably just as good a mother as the next repressed, obsessive-compulsive paranoiac."  ~ Anne Lamott

The 'Running Mom' movement has really, really, gained momentum, and I am happy and grateful for it. I'm grateful that moms have the support of other moms to get out there and run: to carve out time for themselves; to understand that they have a right to claim that time for themselves; to get that they are better moms when they take care of themselves, that they still count too. Let's face the truth - there's still A LOT of people out there who believe that mothers should always put their families before themselves in everything they do. We moms even foist this crap on ourselves, berating ourselves for being selfish if we really want to go for a run. Moms have serious issues claiming time for themselves and feeling okay about it, so the moms running movement is a fantastic development, and it means that so many more moms are out there running, feeling strong and supported and empowered. And this makes them better moms. And let us not forget, that 40 or 50 years ago, women were simply not allowed to run long distances. And mothers??? No way. It went against nature. Things have changed so much, so much for the better, even in my lifetime.

Before I begin: A disclaimer
What I am about to say has to do with ME and me alone. This is not a comment on my friends, who I value and treasure, and who happen to also be moms. This is not about the wonderful groups of moms I sometimes run with - they energize and invigorate me. I envy their belongedness (Hmmm, There's a world) and I'm just trying to find my place in this silly world.

But here's my thing - I am NOT a 'Running Mom". Oh, I wish I was. I wish I fit somewhere, but I just don't, as much as I have tried. I usually feel that I'm in a no-woman's land of neither here nor there, and it can be a lonely place - or at least an awkward place, for me. I don't fit with my kid-less friends, and I don't really fit with my mommy friends - well, not the way they fit with each other.  It's sort of like that truism: Being a mother (biological) does not necessarily make you a mother/mom in the sense that matters - the "mothering' sense. There's reproduction - simple biology - and then there's more. Well, just because I'm a mother (I hope in BOTH the biological and nurturing sense) and I'm a runner, does that make me a "running mom"...OR, another mother runner????

First: I'm old: Older than all the other moms who have kids the age of my kid. Now, I may be immature and 'young for my age' and in denial about a lot of stuff, but I'm still sometimes 20 (or more!!!) years older than many of them. I could be their mother!!! So, this is awkward, and while they are nice to me, the truth is that they relate to me differently than their other mom friends.

Second: I was 'me' for a lot longer than I have been a mom: How do say this without offending people I admire and care about??? I am a mom who doesn't really feel that this is what defines me - but it's part of me. I spent the first 43 years of my life as 'me', no kids, no desire to have a kid until I hit 41. So, this mom thing is a bit of an after thought, and truth be told, I often feel like a bit of a fake in the company of other mom-runners. I mean this wasn't just part of my nature that manifested itself at the appropriate time. I'm all off, as usual. Un-natural. Odd. Oy.

Third: I was selfish for 43 years and that habit is ingrained: I've never had a problem claiming time for myself for running. My husband and I DID argue about OUR time, but we both stood our ground and claimed it. Yes, this can be a point of friction, but we worked things out, usually. That's still something we have to balance. I ran through most of my pregnancy. I bundled up my 5 week old daughter, in a Colorado, January winter, and ran for hours with her in the BOB without the slightest guilt about it. In retrospect, perhaps I should have felt guilt, but at that point, a new-old mom, I had no running mom friends - so I didn't even know how this stuff was done. I wasn't even on Facebook then! I knew running. I did not know mothering. So I muddled my way through. What did the other, 'real' moms think of these mothering gaffs? I can only wonder.

March, 2017: Three moths old

I suppose I approached the whole thing a bit like some of my climbing mom friends. Interestingly I do not see a 'climbing mom' movement the way I see a 'running mom' movement - maybe climbing moms are different? Hmmm. But my climbing mom friends took their infants out to the crags in back packs, bundling them up and attempting to keep them safe from any rock fall potential. Bringing the kid to the crag just seemed to be an extension of bringing the dog to the crag.

April 2017: 4 months old

Perhaps it's just the fact that I ran for so many years before I became a mother. Perhaps this is all 'in my head'. Perhaps I am making something out of nothing. Perhaps, perception is creating my reality. Or, maybe it just is true that some of us don't fit nicely into these things, as I have never fit anywhere. And this is one reason I love running - Runners often don't fit well anywhere, and find a fit in not fitting along with others who just don't fit so well. And mom runners, themselves, may not feel that they fit so well with non-running mothers which is why they gravitate to this community.

And yet, becoming a mother changed me. I may be a little less selfish. I know there's someone else in the world who I would die for without question and who I could not possibly love more, even when I'm angry as hell at her. Being a mother makes my actions in this world more important. She adds to my self, something I could not know before - but even that is a selfish thing - all about me - what she does for me. She renders all my actions more important in some intangible sense, can't quite put my finger on it, way.

And so I am a mother. And I am a runner. Does that make me this breed of 'mother runner'? I don't know. And perhaps I'm not the only one out there confused and conflicted about how these pieces fit together. It's a work in progress.