Sharing A Tradition

You feel a lot of things on a run. You literally might waiting for your body to get warm before you can pour on more effort. You could be anxious because you’re getting to that portion of your training course you don’t like. Thoughts may wander or there could be extreme focus on breath, posture and arms. For me, the longer a run gets, the more varied (and sometimes wild) my thoughts become.

Author, Haruki Marakami observed, “The thoughts that occur to me while I’m running are like clouds in the sky. Clouds of all different sizes. They come and they go, while the sky remains the same sky always. The clouds are mere guests in the sky that pass away and vanish, leaving behind the sky.”

And that is what happened when I was on mile 4.25 of a four-mile run that became five miles.

Today was my ideal running weather. Sixty-six, overcast and a light drizzle. My intent was to get out extra early and conquer the hills that ate me alive two weeks ago. But, before I knew it, I was driving to The Encino Golf Course and Recreation Center. I love this place. This is where I overcame my fear of double-digit runs and where I made life-long friends.

In January, I started Gretchen Rubin’s Happiness Project. It’s helped me set tangible monthly goals, with the idea to keep the previous month's goal and add a new goal(s) the next month. Naturally, increasing weekly mileage each month was a goal I set in January. Another theme she tackles is “Try Something New.” With a new commute, I was going to read more, and I was going to achieve this using audio books. When I was at the library, perusing shelves of potential books “Sally Ride: America's First Woman in Space,” leapt out at me. I have no interest in space. 

“Try Something New.”

Being of a child of the 1980’s, of course I knew who she was. She was a hero to my teachers and being contemporary, we were strongly encouraged to do a book report on her. I knew she was the first American woman in space. That’s all I knew. When I picked up the CDI didn’t know what I’d find. I loved the book. And now, I love Sally Ride. I learned a lot of things, among them, she grew up in Encino, California, the very city where I did my first double-digit run. She is far beyond and more important than being the first woman in space.

Fitness and her endurance was quietly woven through the book. Running, was something she did well and it allowed her to do many of the physical things she did, among them, be a nationally ranked tennis player.

When I drove to The Encino Golf Course and Recreation Center I did not have Sally Ride on my mind. I was thinking about my mileage and the connection to friends.

I had four miles on my training schedule. I ran around the man-made lake looking at waterfowl and smiling at runners that passed. Then I turned to the familiar interior loop. I passed the golf clubhouse, the spot where Team and Training meets, through the area where there is exercise equipment and then a left to get the last mile plus done. It is on the backside of that course, along the over-grown area of the L.A. River, I thought of Sally Ride.

My soul started vibrating. I don’t like comparing myself to other people and don’t make a practice of it. I always try to do better than my best or do better than that goal I think I should be doing (even if that goal is realistically several years off). And, while I don’t like comparing myself to other people, in that moment, Sally Ride was on my mind.

She ran this course. I’m working to get back into Marathon Shape and running the same routes that Sally Ride ran! A unique run for sure. I focused on friends, posture, breath and then Sally Ride.

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GET ONE ON THE BOOKS

Not me. Not ever.

.  . . And I’m back. 

I’m feeling supremely good. I have the runners’ high that everyone speaks of. When I began the running journey in 2008, I thought people were mad for getting excited over running.

Who gets giddy, excited, high from running?

I'm the girl who "ran" Track and Field in high school and did all the weight events to avoid the running portion of Track and Field. I never understood the runners high. When I got deeper into my marathon training, I learned that it is an actual thing and it's something somebody even like me can have.

Training has been difficult. I started off strong in the spring and summer, but after going through a difficult “break up” in the late part of summer and early fall, those necessary training runs fell by the wayside. A friend called me out on Face Book and suggested I do a 10k that was to benefit brain tumor research. After dallying on signing up for a 10k closer to home, I immediately signed up for that one. I was re-commited to endurance training and dug out my marathon training schedule from 2008/2009. I started laying down the miles.  Muscle memory is great when you're revisiting a neighborhood you haven't been to in awhile, but the muscle memory I experienced with these runs was amazing. Sure, my muscles got a little tired and fatigued. My lung capacity isn’t what it was, but these runs were nothing like the first 3, 4 and 5 mile runs I did when I first found the sport of endurance running.

I was feeling good, but not great. And, certainly not confident. I figured I would use the 10k (6.2 miles) as a training run and just train through. This way, I wouldn’t need to worry about time, a PR or anything. But, I’m a runner, I worry about those things. As my coach from my first marathon told me- Have 3 goals: 1 that you can achieve with work, one that is doable, and the third should always be to finish. My goal was to do a sub 1:21 10k. That was my pace during my marathon, and it was a better 10k pace than the race I did with the closeted smoker. With my toes on my left foot bothering me after a 5 mile run the week before the race and my bridge of my right foot bothering me, I readjusted…. Sub 1:30. Well, that’s what I told everyone and what I tried to tell myself. But I still wanted that sub 1:21 even though I was doubtful I could achieve it.

Within the last year, I discover I have a small wheat intolerance, which forced me to change my eating regimen the night before my long runs. For my 10k, I had a giant bowl of quinoa, some grocery store sushi, 2 glasses of red wine and promptly overslept. I woke up at the time I should be leaving for the race. Fortunately, my ex-boyfriend who was a runner drilled it into my head that you need to lay out all your clothes on a chair the night before. That way you can’t possibly miss anything. When the chair is empty, you know you have all your stuff and you’re ready. 

After waking up late, I threw my extra quinoa in the microwave and ran around the house like a maniac cursing that I slept through my alarms and the imminent road closures I would experience when I got closer to the course. Unable to do my traditional pre-long run morning ritual, I shoveled breakfast into my mouth at red lights. Some how, as I got closer, the road divergences weren’t too bad. Pulling into the parking lot, I finished breakfast and had half a banana.

The rest of the morning was a lot of pre-race festitivies to get the runners excited about the run. This was, after all, a brain tumor event. Survivors were wearing grey shirts. There were probably 10 of us I spotted on the course.

The first mile was slow. So slow. People kept passing me. I was getting discouraged, but dug in. I had been here before, slow to start and run my own race. I kept telling myself, "don’t psych yourself out. Just run the pace that feels good." I knew looking at my watch, I'd inherently slow down thinking my pace was impossible, so I just kept running.

One of my running friends who had run the 5k, found me just after mile 4 and we ran a mile together. She had to peel off to meet friends for brunch, but she told me I had a downhill to look forward to for the rest of the course. I passed people who had passed me, shared waves with other brain tumor survivors and almost crashed into a woman who decided to cross the course at the finish line. 

When the official results came out, I was floored. I didn’t run a 1:21 10k; I ran a 1:13…. A full 8 minutes faster than what I wanted and a full 18 minutes faster than what I expected. This puts my overall pace at 11:46. Sure, it’s a race pace, but my natural pace is somewhere between what I WAS running and this. Now, I have a new sweet spot, a new training pace. I know I can endure long runs at this pace. 

Coupled with tempo runs/intervals/200 repeats/hill repeats, you name it, I’ll get my sub 2:30:00 half. What’s more this and the ballroom go hand in hand. My balance from ballroom has strengthened my core and overall improved my form. My running strengthens my cardiovascular and allows me to keep up with my daning parter/coach. 

I’m absolutley humbled by what I’ve been able to accomplish. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times: It’s Amaing What You Can Do Without A Brain Tumor.

Unexpected Cross-Training

I have forward momentum with launching a new cooking/dating blog www.stuffeddatesblog.com and developing several projects both with my producing partner and others with my writing partner.

Forward momentum in life is great, but forward momentum without logging miles to give you optimum cardiovascular health to continue the career momentum for years to come isn’t a good long-term plan. I have stumbled, and sometimes I feel closer to the person I was before I was introduced to endurance running. When the alarm goes off, I wake up thinking, “Oh my gosh, I have so much to do,” and then focus on doing & creating rather than going outside and doing one thing I enjoy, running. Despite encouragement from friends to get a race on the books, nothing has appealed to me and pre-planning all the way to May is something I can’t comprehend since I am directing and producing a short that will be shot in May. Running felt & sometimes feels like an indulgence.

One day, in mid-January, I received a call from Matt Patrick at LA Ballroom Studio. He explained that the studio I took group classes at changed ownership. He invited me to come in for a lesson to see what the new owners were doing. I struggled in the group classes I took last year (prior to change in ownership) and while the classes exposed me to new dances and excited me, I left with more frustration than anything. I took Matt up on his offer for a private lesson; I was in love. Matt’s teaching style was just what I needed and I actually realized that I could get this dancing thing. He asked me my goals and I told him that when I go I want to be one of the best dancers (not competitive at all). He appreciated the honesty and while it did take me several lessons to talk about the brain surgery (which proved as difficult as talking to someone you’re dating) he knows now. And, like any good partner/teacher, he didn’t give me sympathy. It was as simple as me telling him I like coffee.

I have learned so much in these few weeks of ballroom dancing, and it is more than just beginner dance steps. He has showed me how to improve movement in my daily life so I am more centered.  (Among the things, he pointed out I walk too quickly and showed me how to walk properly… which is far harder than it sounds. With my voracious need to understand and be good, he has given me exercises to improve core, balance, and things that will help with steps that would be good for everything from Swing to Waltz.

When I was dipping my toe into ballroom dancing, I was told that it is a better workout than running. I thought it might be an exaggeration. But, the time I spend dancing usually surpasses the time I spend on short training runs. With the dancing, I have experienced fatigue in muscles I didn’t know I have…

I am re-introducing running and with all the dancing, it’s like I took no time off.  It’s some of the best cross-training I’ve experienced. It is also turning me into a more poised individual. Ballroom dancing is changing my life more than I could have ever imagined. Growing up, I struggled with movement, and this was only exacerbated by the brain tumor. Ballroom dancing is better than any physical therapy I ever took growing up and thanks to all the work with Matt I am now able to experience something that has been denied to me for years.

Do I have a race on the books? No. But, I will be performing a ProAm (Pro-Amateur) routine in April. 

Seasons of Love

Leaving Providence St. Joseph,
December 23, 2010

As I sit here on this December 23, I reflect on the past year. These last few weeks have been filled with touchstones at the very least— The MRI showing the sudden collapse and near disappearance of the residual brain tumor came nearly a year to the day from when I was diagnosed with a two-inch brain tumor.  I let December 15 slip away like a bad dream and aside from wishing a co-worker a happy birthday, the day passed without incident.  The first days I was in the ICU, despite my doped-up state, I knew it was important to stay calm and not move much so I would affect my ventriculostomy, causing my CSF to drain too much. And while I was there, in the early days, I kept singing to myself lines from a DC Talk song, “I want to be in the light as you are in the light.  I want to shine like the stars in the Heavens… all I want is to be in the light.” And, staying in the light is something I crave and helps me get through some of the more difficult times. The days from December 15, 2011 quickly passed by me as I was spending time with family, skipping from holiday party to holiday party and traveling home to see the rest of my family and meet my adorable niece.

No snow this Christmas,  nonetheless
I get to run by this converted
milking  barn on training runs.

Today felt like it called for a little more reflection. I woke up in the room I grew up in, rolled over and turned off my alarm. I looked at the calendar and mused, “hey, one year ago today, I woke up in a hospital and was discharged in the afternoon.” Other than having passing thoughts about where I was last year, the day was pretty much like any other day before Christmas. Then, the family piled into the cars to go on our training runs.  I had intended to do somewhere between 2 and 3. When I got a four-corner intersection, I chose the road with the least amount of hills and started down it. I just figured I’d keep going ‘till I hit about 1.5 miles. I then figured I’d run to the next road. It wasn’t fast, and ultimately, I only logged 3.6 miles when I got back to the cars, but it was a very exhilarating 3.6 miles. Between getting a cold just after Thanksgiving and then these holidays, getting any mileage in always feels like a miracle. As much as it pains me, I’ve re-jiggered my schedule again and I am settling into Hal Higdon’s NOVICE program. I’ve run one half-marathon doing something like this, and I know I can do another one. It feels like I took a giant slide backwards after Thanksgiving, I’m giving myself the grace that I would urge my friends to give themselves.  

So, it’s been a year since I was discharged.  I am still not used to people calling me a miracle or learning about strangers praying for me or meeting someone new and having my story touch them, causing tears to well up in their eyes. It has been quite the year. Reflecting on what the year has meant and everything that has unfolded.  I couldn’t put it better than Jonathan Larson who wrote the Broadway musical, RENT and composed “Seasons of Love.” 

Thank you all for being part of my seasons of love.