The Language of Light

Well, hello.  It's been awhile.  Now, that race season is over (and the hard work continues) I have been enjoying my off season.  Letting my body recover.  Sleeping in.  More yoga.  More reading. More journaling.  More napping.  Re-charging my batteries a bit.  And more napping.....

I found this song last month and I really enjoy it.  So, here you go. The video made me love it more.
I love myself

So, a quick re-cap, if you will.  End of June I ended a triathlon in tears and blood.  Yes, you could say that is part of the sport.  But, these were different tears.  Tears of defeat, sure; but more-so tears not understanding my body.  I had put my training in and yet I couldn't get my shit together.  I wasn't swimming as fast as I could, on the bike I literally looked down at my legs and begged them to go faster and the run ruined a bit of my soul....or so I thought. I could hardly speak after because my voice was cracking.

The week after the race, I went to the doctor for blood work.  While waiting for the results a triathlon friend wanted to go for a ride.  On that ride I confided what I had been feeling.  The exhaustion was palpable.  It's hard being an endurance athlete in this sense.  You are always tired.  But, when is it not healthy? She shared her experiences from the year before.  Very similar.  It was so great to talk to someone who had experienced this.  In many ways.  It's hard for me to be very open with people.  For a lot of reasons.  I am a Virgo and a perfectionist.  I don't want to appear weak or off my game.  But, I took the gamble and opened up and shared that I was not only feeling horrible, I may drop out of my A race for the season, Calgary 70.3.  We shared a lot in those miles.  I had only planned to do 30 of them, but she inspired me and listened, so I completed the 60 some with her.  The was a twinkle of light at the end of the tunnel.  I didn't want to fall off my bike and die.  So, that was good.

Tests came back that my thyroid was out of whack and my iron was at the lowest of lows on the normal scale.  Put on medicine and iron supplements.  There were decisions to make, since Calgary was only a few weeks away.  Also, in the mean time, my race partner had decided to not do the race for her reasons.  Here I was with a lot in front of me.  So, what did I do? I deferred a race I had in July-the Missoula Half-Marathon and didn't sign up for a triathlon in my home town.  I needed a break.  I certainly didn't need another shitty race to mind eff me.  I decided to see how training would go this next week and decide on Calgary.  I took the pressure off me.  I trained at my pace, on  my schedule.  Still fighting fatigue.  But, was feeling better.  I mean only a week ago from this I could hardly get out of bed.  I went to the Farmers Market and didn't plan my day.  I trained and then had Anna time.  I read.  I mediated.  I met friends for coffee.  I confided in a couple of other friends what I was going through.  One close triathlon friend that helped me open up to my fears on Calgary-could I go and be okay with a DNF?  Could I not go and be okay with a DNS? Could I go and finish slower than last year?  These are hard questions to have with yourself.  But, my dear, what if you fly?  That is what I kept asking myself.  What if you go and kill it?  Or, what if you just go and be okay and be at peace with it all.  That month of July I learned so much about myself.  I am stronger than I think.  I can open up and be vulnerable.  I can show up and be brave in all areas of my life and people won't judge me and won't think the worst.  The people who care about you and love you will-no matter what.

So, one of the big things I did in this period was climb Boulder Hill.  I had been scared and let fear hold me back.  But, one Saturday, I woke up and was like this is the day. I am going to climb it even if it takes me all damned day and I will not get off my bike.  I was just telling a friend this story the other day.  I started off.  It is 2600 ft elevation gain in 6 miles. I started pretty decent and around 3 miles it starts really climbing.  I held steady and I did finish.  I stopped by Garmin and fell into my aero bars and cried.  Cried.  Different tears this time.  Tears of joy and redemption.  Brave enough to face my fears and brave enough to let go and enjoy this moment. The day was beautiful. I dreamed out loud and got it done. Then I flew down the hill.  With the biggest freaking smile on my face.  On the way up these cows by the side of the road were just staring at me...pretty sure they were judging me.  So, on the way back, I slowed enough to yell "What's up now muther fuckers!" Enjoy your victories.  Whenever and wherever.  Because they are yours and you worked your ass for them.  And yes, if that means you throw down with some random cows, then do it!  So be it.  It's good for your soul.  I was crossing the bridge to get to the frontage road and rode by a penny.  I turned around to get it.  Pennies from Heaven.  I cried more and thought of my grandma.  I miss both of my grandmas. Go hug yours.  Now.

That penny is still in my Bento Box on my bike.

For the record, I went to Calgary 70.3.  I killed the bike (took 16 min off last year) and I PR'd with shaving 8 min off my time from last year.

Always have to have Hot Pink nails when racing.

                                               
                                                    Best Helena Crew to be on this journey with.

Very inspirational to swim with the Iron Cowboy in Bozeman while tapering for Calgary.

Oh, and Andy Potts of course!  You know, that moment he recognized my name.

What did I learn from this, other than not to be tired.  I learned be brave enough to be vulnerable.  Let people know what you are going through.  As a #PerfectionistInRecovery this was a hard lesson for me.  ( I mean I was excited when I learned my blood type was A positive (A+)). To be open, to let others in.  To enjoy all your days.  Find one good thing about your day.  Look around you and take a moment to really see things.  To be kinder to others and definitely on yourself. Laugh more.  Cry more.  Leap more.  Be happy that you are healthy-because that can go away at anytime.  One of the best advice I received when talking about my goals in 2016 was "Do it. You are healthy and not injured.  A lot can change in 6 months to a year."  Slow down a bit.  Read more. Write.  Take more rest days.  Do more yoga!  Be joyful.  Find your Tribe.  Don't be afraid to put in the work and be Bad Ass.  Can you believe that holds people back, it has me.  I actually wrote in my journal "Don't be afraid of what you are capable of and what you can do and be."  (See, I just opened up a deep personal thought there!).  Showing that you are vulnerable doesn't mean shame.  It's okay to ask for help. Your loved ones will give it...and more.  See the light at the end of the tunnel.  You are amazing.  Take the journey with yourself.  Spend time with yourself.

I found this card around my birthday and I got it for myself.  Yes, yes I did.  So many reasons.  1.  It's hot pink. 2.  It's sparkly  3. It has a bad ass message.  And you better believe I put it where I will see it a lot. Love yourself.  Hug more.  And speak the language of light, it's all around you.  Look for it. See it. Be it.

And it will be!

Bloomsday Bonding

This Bloomsday had a lot of emotion behind it.  Last year, I missed it due to graduating from Graduate School.  A right of passage of sorts.  This year, I was going to run on a knee that I had crushed up against a rock two weeks before and hadn't run on since.  Also, one of my best friends was coming with me and she was grieving a loss of a family member.  So, there would be a lot of healing on this trip.  These last two weeks for me, I have been very contemplative.  What do I want out of this year, out of me, out of those I surround myself with.....  I happened upon this song-it encapsulates those feelings and this last weekend.  Enjoy.
Fight Song

I want to start this blog with this picture.  Of course the color of his shorts caught my eye. Then I saw his shirt said something.  Wow.  Great message for life and this weekend.  And he is getting after it.
This is the decent before Doomsday!

Bloomsday was a healing weekend.  Two weeks ago I sliced my knee falling on a trail run.  I knew I was tired from the Grizzly Triathlon I did two days before.  My calves were tired.  On the decent, didn't pic up my feet and stumbled, landed on my knee, hand and rolled down the hill.  First thought that went through my mind was "shit" second thought-"these are my favorite capri's and new compression socks."  I walked the rest of the way down and didn't realize how bad it was cut until I hopped in the shower.  Long story short, after a Tetanus shot, glue and tape, I was put together.  For those of you that have not had the glue experience, let me tell you-it is painful.  It burns and you almost pee.  It felt like I gave birth out of my knee-I have never given birth, but I heard it hurts and last longer, but this is my equivalent.  I named my bum knee home slice!  Here is some of his evolution.

A full week off.  I haven't taken that much time off since 2008.  When I wasn't really active.  I actually kind of miss those days.  So, Aleve cocktails, ice and Netflix for me.  Long story short, 2 miles on the elliptical, modified swim practice and some yoga the next week was the limit.  I felt like a champion on those 2 miles.  I was so happy everything felt right and nothing hurt per se.  Yoga helped me surrender those moments when I wanted to roll up my mat when my ego was trying to get the best of me.  Frustrated two weeks ago I was balancing my body on one leg/arm and now I was struggling in Warrior.  Leave it on the mat.

Without going into too many details, my Tri Partner in Crime lost her sister-in-law two weeks ago. Fourteen months prior, her brother's family lost a child.  Can't imagine-well, actually I can-sadly.  I helped my own brother bury his wife 7 months ago and helped him bury a child 10 years ago.  Let me tell you, time does not heal all wounds and I will punch anyone in the mouth that says so.  When is it enough for one person to handle that much pain.  Diedra and I bonded in many ways, and sadly this way as well. Pain is raw and it is real.  It will cut you to the core and leave you battered and bloodied and pushes you to levels that you never imagined, only to take you further.  And it's not fair.  Today, I helped my friend say good-bye to her sister-in-law.  I saw her sister-in-law's daughter with Diedra's brother and it broke my heart. Just like I did 7 months ago and 10 years ago with my own family.  I hope that she knows she can lean on me for this pain and the continued questions of why this happens to people.

I am so glad Diedra came to get away and have some fun this weekend.  Bloomsday is a girls weekend.   Diedra dedicated the Doomsday hill to her brother.  And she killed it up the huge hill.  It was great to have girl time, laugh, cry and make a huge dent at lululemon.  Glad I could take her to the motherland of all stores for the first time this weekend.  Running your card at your favorite store heals wounds, both visible and invisible.  I actually got two big bags....and I need a part time job now. I can only hope that she will continue this fun weekend with me in the future.

Thank you to BS Tutus & Designs for this! It also gave me a buffer from the crowd!

Fun Freaks!! Photo Credit: Sibyl Govan

I cried on this run.  My goal was not to fall down or be pushed down.  Or trip.  I didn't take my watch. I ran on how my knee was feeling.  I was surprised how good I felt.  I started getting choked up at mile 7.  I haven't ran more than 3 miles at a time since the LA Marathon really.  And now I was running 7.46 on a healing knee and without training.  I cried because I did it.  I cried because I was healthy, I cried for my friend, I cried for her family.  I know that I didn't lose a limb-I get it.  But, as my friend Sibyl said, "it's devastating that your plans for the year may gone in an instant."  Knock on wood I have never been injured really.  So, this is new territory. I beat my time from the last time I did it.  Was it my best time ever on that race?  No.  But, it was by far the most rewarding.  It will be a bit before the bursa is completely healed and I will still be very cautious with it.  I am just thankful it wasn't worse and I can get started back at what I love-with my Tri Partner in Crime at my side.

Pennies From Heaven-A Grandmother's Legacy

Sometimes the universe brings things together just at the right time.  My friend, Kelli, sent me an article a week a half ago about a gentleman that picked up pennies around New York City.  I sent that article to my father.  It reached him right before the anniversary of my Grandma O'Donnell passing this last Tuesday. But before, I go into this story, I leave you with this song.  Enjoy.

See You Again

Growing up, when I would go on walks with my father, he always made sure to pick up pennies..among other things.  I always wondered what he would come home with..nails..bolts..one time a blow dryer.  Not even kidding.  I digress.  Anyone who had a childhood will know that picking up pennies is for good luck.  There is some controversy though if you should only pick them up with the heads up and if you so happen to come across one with tails up, the proper thing would be to turn it over and leave it for someone to pick up for good luck.  I used to do this, until graduate school, now I willingly take any change I find or see for that matter.  Priorities.

I remember my father telling me the stories of the pennies from heaven.  One that his mother passed along to her kids...all 11 of them.  Yes, my grandma was a good, practicing Catholic.  I forgot this story from time to time, but since 2012, I have always thought about this story and took it as a sign that my grandmother was looking out for me.  I lost both sets of grandparents.  My mom's dad passed before I was even born from cancer.  My mom's mom passed my freshman year of high school.  I still have fond memories of staying at her house to get up early the next morning to go to garage sales, then cinnamon rolls at Woolworth's or the neighbors.  I also remember how her backyard was this great adventure-with a corner dedicated to the Virgin Mary.  Yep, another Catholic grandma.  My dad's dad passed when I was a junior in high school.  It is really the first time I physically saw my father cry.  I knew he cried about other things, he told me, but this is the first time I saw him cry.  My grandma O'Donnell passed in 2009.  The matriarch of the family gone.  The woman who centered all my crazy family was gone.  Her spunky stubbornness and wicked sense of humor-gone. I loved how she told each child that she loved them the most and there would be little fights over who was the favorite.

I won't go into many details, but when she was passed she had her coat partly on.  Weeks before that, she had been talking about my grandpa and going with him somewhere.  It is our belief that he came to get her.  She wasn't driving and no appointments that day. He told her it's time to go.  I truly believe that.  I have to.  I want to.  Somehow that minimally dulls the pain I feel about missing her so much.  I envy those who still have their grandparents.  Mine were pretty great and I cherished my time with them.  I probably should have cherished it more.  But, hindsight is a real bitch.

At then end of 2012, I was ending a campaign for a candidate I really didn't believe in the way I did when I started the campaign.  A man that was a great mentor and a great boss was being termed out and whatever this dating/relationship thing I had going was ending.  Ending by my choice.  Something had to give. December of 2012, the candidate that I worked for didn't keep his word on his part of a campaign agreement and the practices of that campaign were nothing to be proud of.  I was realizing that I didn't want a future in this direction.  I felt lied to, manipulated and betrayed and I hated that a family I grew to love in an administration was disbanding.  I was torn apart.  I confided in a small circle of friends and my parents.  I remember my father telling me "this must be so painful for you."  It was.  I couldn't label it, but that was the perfect word.  Painful.  Then, one day my father called me.  "It's going to be okay, because I found a penny from heaven by the water fountain at the YMCA."  He was right.  It may not have turned out how I pictured it, but I knew my grandmother was comforting me.

When I was searching for a full time job and going through the struggle that most of America is going through...having a degree-a Master's Degree nonetheless-and unemployed essentially, I found pennies every where-at the gym, by my car, on my runs and throughout town-in any town I was visiting.  I knew that they were pennies from heaven.  I had a sense of peace that everything would work out yet again, that if I just trusted something more than myself it would work out.

Anyone who has spent time with me knows I will always stop and pick pennies up.  I stopped and picked one up on the course in the LA Marathon.  I loved both of my grandmothers.  I was robbed that my grandma Naylor left our family so early. I remember going to her funeral and there was only standing room.  I was lucky enough to have my grandma O'Donnell another 15+ years.  My father can barely talk about her at times.  I remember when she passed and we could write a note and put it in her grave.  I wrote about many things-how I loved her, how I will miss her.  But, what I remember most..is I thanked her for giving me my dad.  (Shit, I am crying just thinking of this...).  I know my father and the rest of my family will have a shot of blue wine for her-holidays, her birthday and perhaps the anniversary of her death.

That article was a great surprise.  I am an honored to be known for this little tradition of "picking pennies up all over town."  My dad copied it and sent it to his brothers and sisters.   I hope upon reading this, if a loved one is gone and you find a penny, you will believe that someone is watching over you and letting you know they are looking after you-or just saying hi.

We had family pictures done a bit before my grandmother died.  Here it is.

Don't be jealous, our family is really, really, ridiculously good-looking.

Hug your grandparents.  Hold their memory close.  Start picking up pennies, regardless of what side is facing you.  

LA Marathon Race Report

Oh, it was good to be in Cali again.....it was so good to leave it as well. Before I start the re-cap of race events, I will leave you with this song, which I started out the race with...Enjoy

Centuries

Yes, I know, I listened to music.  I listened to music through the second half of my training.  I never usually listen to music when I run.  But, I did pick it up again this training.  Many reasons-mainly to get outside my own head and not think of the pain at times-when there was pain. So, the race report.

I woke up at 3:45 a.m. to start my routine.  Heat the Achilles, drink my drink, check Facebook...breathe....breathe some more.  I have to admit, I was nervous about this race.  Yes, every race there is some nervousness, but the heat factor of this race made me question crossing the finish line.  My first DNF?  Who am I, Ryan Hall? No..HAHA but, I knew that I had to play it safe with this race-we trained in much cooler weather and even negative degrees at times; so coming into 90 degree weather was intimidating.  I laid out my gear the night before..it's funny what will send a runner into a panic-"Where the hell are the safety pins...I picked up more at the expo..where the fuck are they?!...great..don't panic..go to the front desk..and pray to God."  However, I would have not finished and probably taken a DNF if I knew that T.O. was on the course.  How did I miss this! But, luckily I did.  I love him.

Amazingly, Kelli and I both slept really good the night before.  I think we wore ourselves out walking and thinking of the race...oh and stalking Heather Lieberg.  I was putting on my gear and Kelli got up and we finished our routines and getting ready.  We put on our old clothes we were going to donate-only to be sweating by the second block to the bus.  Pants off at the bus line.  On the bus we go to the start.

We got off the bus and I needed to find the gear check.  Then bathroom line..then we headed to the start.  I hugged Kelli, wished her good luck, then went to the side to start.  I met a nice Asian boy and we talked and that calmed my nerves.  The other thing I liked-it was just a enough time to do what we needed before the start.  In the NYC Marathon, it was such a long transport and wait that nerves set in, but it was good to watch the amazement of the NYC Marathon-which can never really be matched.

Horn goes off and we start.  Sweating by mile 1.  Okay, this is not good.  Stay calm and be smart.  I just told myself to stick to my hydration schedule.    There were more hills than I thought.  Which is okay because we train on hills a lot here.  The decent is brutal on the quads though.  It was amazing running through my old neighborhoods and areas I used to go to.  That made me smile.  Running through streets and people cheering or eating brunch cheering us on!  The community came out and had mist bottles, fruit, water and the most coveted thing ever-ice and Popsicles.  I will never take these things for granted again.  I remember running and looking over at a runner and she had ice and I was so jealous.  Where did she get that?!  Keep your eyes open O'Donnell!! Focus!  I then would grab ice and Popsicles and put them in my bra.  Once one canteen ( I had 2) was done with my electrolyte drink I used it to keep water in at the re-fill stations.  There was so many in the medical tents and on the side of the course-it was like watching a movie on a Ultra-Marathon.  I poured water on me as much as I drank it.  I tried to hit every and every hose that the fireman had going.  It was a shock of revitalization. I knew that pouring water on me would lead to chaffing with my shorts, but I picked the lesser of two evils-or so I thought until I hopped in to the shower and wanted to pee and cry at the same time. I saw Marc, Kelli's husband, at a point and waved.  It was so cool to have someone out there cheering for us.  I wondered where Kelli was as I saw the pacer by me at times.  I hope she was doing well.  I always swell in the heat.  I could tell my arm was rubbing my tank top sleeve and my fitness belt would leave marks letting me know it was there as well.  Even my calves were sweating because it was so hot.

Then as we were in the Century City section- it was hot and there was no shade.  I could tell that my body was telling me to take it more easy.  I walked more in this section and around the Veteran section.  As did many at this point.  But then around 20 I picked it up again.  It's only a 10k I told myself.  Keep moving your arms, keep moving your feet-even though it would be soon that they hurt. I put that out of my head and took in the crowds.  I thought of my dad who just walked a 10k in a race the day before, I thought about my mom tracking my progress at home, and my friends who trained with us and everyone we care about cheering for us back home.  I would be lying if every time I do a marathon that I don't think about Luke Roach.  My Carroll family will know exactly what I am talking about. I always dedicate one mile to that man. But, for others,here is the link:
http://articles.chicagotribune.com/2002-01-07/news/0201070002_1_heat-stroke-heat-illness-medical-examiner

I started my Garmin at the first line at the beginning-thinking that was the start-so my Garmin was a bit ahead.  But once I was coming off mile 25 and rolling down to 26 I could see and feel the breeze of the ocean.  I am almost there-stadium to the sea is the motto of the LA Marathon-we start at Dodgers Stadium.  I picked up the pace a bit but slowly carried it in-feet hurting and all. Of course right before the finish my empty canteen fell out of my fuel belt on to the ground.  I had to grab it as fast as I could and finish.  At that point, fast is not fast.  Fast is hoping you can get back up.  And I would just like Marathon Photo for those great shots.  I finished!!! I made it to the gear check and took off my shoes-ok, not bloody, a few blisters, have all my toenails-some were black though.  The tiny toes-damn downhills!!  Flip Flops on and headed to meet Kelli.  I waddled up to the finish hoping to see her finish, but I missed her.  The finish seemed so far far away from the gear truck.  But we met in the beer garden.  We sat down and enjoyed our free beer. We did it.  We finished and we did it in extreme heat, so we get more badass points for that. Kelli told me that if she had her phone in the beginning she would have called her husband to get her.  She was lightheaded.  I am proud that she stuck it out.  That we can both wear (and milk) our medals!

Nice salt stain on the shorts

I was a little more sore than NYC the next morning-but guessing that is from the hills and heat. Nothing Aleve and rolling didn't fix.  This was marathon #2 for both of us.  Glad I could train and do this with a friend.  It was a fun-honestly it was. And like every race, you wonder why the heck you signed up for this torture when you are in it and once you cross the finish line you wonder when you can do another.

Hitting The Mat

As I sit here, just back from a hot yoga class, I am drinking my herbal tea-I know how very yogi of me.  I love yoga.  I should take that back.  I like yoga, I love hot yoga.

I was first really introduced to yoga my senior year at Carroll.  Yes, the one class I needed to graduate was only offered the spring semester of the year of the rat during just the perfect summer solstice.  So, I needed 10 more credits to keep my scholarship.  I conned my friend Kenric into taking Water Safety Instructor with me since we were already life guarding at the YMCA and teaching lessons.  It was our chance to shine and eventually get another .50 cents on our paycheck.  I also chose to take yoga.  And some other random ones in my minor of Philosophy.  Yes, my parents were so proud that I was getting a yoga education at a private college.  CHA-CHING!

Then, picked up the love of yoga again while living in LA.  I think that yoga is mandatory to live there...to carry a mat, wear dark shades and drink Kambucha. Still I loved the synergy of my mind and body.  I was hooked.  Upon moving back to Billings, I continued my daily once a week practice. Incorporating it in my life as routine.  

In 2011, I started Hot Yoga.  I didn't really incorporate it too much because of my job and would try to hit a class here or there.  It wasn't until summer of 2013 that I really worked it into my life.  At that time I needed balance in my life and calmness.  Plus, I started marathon training for the first time and it was a good contrast to pounding the pavement.  A mental break and a body break..of sorts.  I attribute it to healing and staying injury free.  Now, I do everything I can to take multiple classes. Out of all the things I have done athletically, I am most proud of the time I hit my mat and see what my body is capable of.  And sweat my ass off...well...at least the water weight of my ass.  I set many intentions through out classes over time: Thanking my body, quieting my mind, stretch out my hips and that damn right shoulder.  It's a great core exercise and let's just say it, you look like a bad ass balancing your body weight on your forearms.  I am still working on fully nailing crow pose. But, most of all, I am not afraid to fall...to fail...because it's just me...and my mat.  Why do I love hot yoga?  I love it because I detox my body.  And I love it because it allows me to go deeper since my muscles are warm.  I get a greater benefit of my body all around.  The best thing is, I have been inspired, humbled, cried, scared, proud and healed a hurt ego and heart on that mat.  I have deepened friendships and created new ones...on that mat.  I have said that my running feet show hard earned miles, my cycling feet say the same and "I need to repaint my toenails and shave my legs" on that mat..don't deny you do it too.  There is no competition on the mat.  Life is shut out for 60-90 minutes of pure sweat and intention.  I have been mentored by some amazing teachers and yogis. Yoga has made me more grateful and thoughtful.  I know, can you imagine me before?!  

So, go to a class-yoga or hot yoga..and transform your perspective of yourself.  Be present.  Believe in the Power of Now.  And walk out better than you walked in.  

Namaste.

The Road to the LA Marathon 2015

Well, it's the day after the 20 miler.  Thank goodness for Aleve, Epsom Salts and Hot Yoga.  I am not too bad.  The 20 miler is a mental thing. Anyone who tells you it's not, is lying and you have every right to tell them to their face that they are a liar.   I heard a song in my  hot yoga class this morning. It resonated with how I am feeling right now, in this moment.  Plus, it's an old school Counting Crows song.  Therefore, I may also feel like putting on a flannel and hitting a college class tomorrow :-).  Enjoy.

Color Blind

I was a little nervous for the 20 miler.  It's the last of the real long runs.  It's the run where you have been on your feet the longest.  20 milers take no prisoners.  It took me two days to shake our 18.5 miler.  I feel apart at 15.5 miles.  It was hot and we hadn't trained for that yet.  I was dehydrated, behind on my fueling and I walked more than I had yet on any run.  That combination mind fucked me for two days.  But, I finished.  My partner finished.  It took me 4 days to feel normal from being dehydrated.  You have to let the bad runs go and move on.  Our next 14 miler was great.  Our 20 miler went well.  I am very happy with it.  That does not mean it didn't hurt.  That does not mean I didn't want to quite at 11 miles.  I just told myself, "One foot in front of the other.  Keep pumping your arms."  It was nice that my training partner and I stayed together and talked the whole way. Someone to distract you and just talk for over 4 hours was needed.  We then celebrated with food at Steve's Cafe.  Then I went home and recovered, napped and eventually showered.

This is the first race that I have really trained for while working a full time job.  I started the job and training essentially the same week.  That was challenging of itself.  Finding time to train for the marathon, keep up some form of Triathlon training and keep sane-proved difficult at times.  Anyone who has trained for a race knows there are ebbs and flows of emotion-ranging from happy-tears-hungry-hangry-beyond exhausted.  There was one point I tried not to cry in Old Navy...yes actually had to tell myself not to fall apart in Old Navy because I was hangry.

But, all through the soreness and the above-mentioned emotional distress, I am glad I have a friend who asked me to do this.  I am not running for time, I am running to finish.  We have had cooler temps here and snow-where LA has had heat.  By 7 am there it is already 60 degrees if not close to it. I know we have the advantage of training in altitude and sea level will help, but it will be hot and we may melt.  But you can't change the weather, you can only change your attitude.  So, I will enjoy every minute and embrace the pain and smile.  I have enjoyed the journey and I will in enjoy the trip to LA and the trip to the finish line.  Thank you to everyone who has shared miles with us.  Thank you Kelli for our talks on our runs and pushing me to complete this with you.

Best part of winter training-Cookie Runs!  Here are just some of the pictures we took after our runs!

Just like the song says-I am ready, I am ready.  We are ready.  #LA2015

The Art of Letting Go.

Below is a song that I have stumbled upon again.  I love Eminem and he gets me through many workouts.  Enjoy one of my favorites, especially running hills.  And just an awesome life song.
Till' I Collapse

Well, the new year is upon us and the first month is almost over.  The new year brings new beginnings, new promises and.....new endings.  Sometimes you can't have a new beginning without an ending.  I am a little bit hesitant of New Years Resolutions.  Why?  Maybe the fear of failure. Maybe I feel like I should be continually be working on things throughout the year and not let them slide because I know I can start again.  Basically, it's like a diet :-) So, I make quiet promises to myself and goals to achieve. I actually write them down in a book.  I rarely share them.  But one of my mantras for 2015 is Letting Go.  That is a big one.  But I have broke it down in many subsections. Like, letting go the fact that my neighbors after a year don't understand the parking rules.  The old Anna would have fought the battle based on principle.  That is how I was raised.  But, just as my parents taught me that, they are now teaching me to pick some battles and let others go.  I think we are all getting older and wiser.  Well, at least they are.

Already this year, especially this last week, I have had to deal with letting go and helping others let things go.  I was there when one my closest running and life friends let go of his father this week. Saying goodbye and choosing to celebrate his father's life.  My friend has the best outlook on it.  It wasn't a sudden death, which can be a blessing and curse at the same time.  He handled it with grace and compassion.  Choosing to honor his father's life.  That man raised a good son.

This week I also helped one of my best friends work through one of the hardest things she has had to deal with-a cheating spouse.  Decisions had to be made.  Tears are still falling.  Shock.  Disbelief. Anger....Mourning.  My friend and I talked about how we always told ourselves we would leave in that situation.  However, one of us is confronted with it.  Dynamics have changed.  Lives altered.  I told her I would stand by her no matter what.  I did tell her she will have the fight of her life to save that marriage.  They both want to fight, luckily.  I love this girl.  She has picked me up many times from the bathroom floor with my heart ripped out.  Now, I will pick her up.  She and her husband are already on the path of therapy and making changes and spilling their guts.  Being so open and raw that it's just painful to speak the words.  I told her after time she will have to let it go.  To truly move forward.  That within itself will be a battle, but one worth fighting.  I was in disbelief, but not angry at this man.  What the what?! I know.  I am not angry because this couple means so much to me and I have spent time with them and see the underlying love.  I have been there since the beginning and I know it was a slip up and not a breaking point.  And I know he loves my friend and they will both work on things and let others go.  It won't be overnight, but it will happen.  But as my favorite saying goes: "Nothing worth fighting for is easy."

Lastly, this week, I had to let go of a friendship.  A friendship that I cared for and enjoyed.  However, there was a trust broken.  And she wasn't the only one to participate. So, I am still thinking how I want to handle the other party.  But the other party is the lesser of two evils.  My friend was sneaky and lied.  You want to piss me off do these things: be sneaky, don't communicate and lie.  I told one of my besties and some close running friends that she lied-their response-OH SHIT.  Because they know my tolerance for that is so low.  Once trust is broken and someone doesn't keep their word, you (me) as a person need to decided if that behavior will be tolerated.  Unfortunately, this is not the first time I have seen this person's stories not add up.  The analytic thinker in me (still thinking I should have been a lawyer) recognizes quickly when shit doesn't add up.  Sometimes you let it go, other times you don't.  I gave this person several days to reach out.  They knew I was upset.  Nothing.  So, on the fifth day I decided to let it go-and by that I mean, let it go from my presence.  So, I called her out on her lies and inconsistent stories.  It was sad.  You can tell reading it that I was disappointed.  My friends and I have supported her in every new idea, adventure and turmoil that she encounters. Only to have this. I have my own reaction to people being deceitful to me, but it when it effects other people's plans and money commitments, besides my own, then I get really upset.  She read the message and as one my running freak friends said, "she won't be accountable." And she hasn't.  But it was more about me stopping that behavior-at least to me.  It wasn't right and as a grown woman she should know better. She did I am sure, they both probably did, but chose to act differently.  So, I let her go.  Let the fact that she did this go.  People who continue that behavior will never learn.  We all have a right and a responsibility for how people treat us. Once I wrote it and sent it, haven't thought about it much since. She knows she is wrong-they both should know that.  I am content. Quality over quantity.

So, letting go has many different forms.  Many different levels.  Many different variables.  But, we need to support the ones we care about and love on how and who they choose to let go.
Namsté