That which we persist in doing becomes easier for us to do. Not that the nature of the thing itself has changed but our power to do it is increased. **Ralph Waldo Emerson**
Our Saturday long run was a mixed bag this week. I got a flu shot on Friday so I was worried that it would slow me down, and my running buddy was a few days away from her final divorce hearing so she was pretty stressed out. Fortunately the weather was good. When my buddy called me that morning to double check our time and meeting place, she remarked that it was uncanny how the weather can be horrible all week, but as soon as it is time for our long run, the clouds part, the sun comes out, and the thermometer shoots up 15 degrees! That is a bit of an exaggeration, but we have been very fortunate for the three long runs we have done together.
We ran the flight line again, opting to start along the water where the wind is ferocious. Although it was the best decision in the long run, it made it really tough to get the ball rolling. The run itself was pretty uninspiring. The planes weren’t taking off, and my Garmin was ticking off miles that were so slow we could have walked them faster. One of our miles took us more than 14 minutes, and the rest were pretty darn close.
Since we were going to be running for well over an hour, we decided to take water and power gels. Gels have sure improved in the last couple of years, the vanilla and caramel that we had on hand were a nice diversion when we hit the hour mark. We plodded on after our treat and finally finished 7 miles after 1 hour and 34 minutes.
After stopping at the restrooms and downing ½ liter water bottles, my running buddy started dialing the phone. She had three people she couldn’t wait to call to tell them she had run 7 miles. Each time she put it on speaker and I heard all their surprise, praise and encouragement. She was absolutely beaming with the biggest smile I had seen on her in quite a while. It really reminded me why we were out there, to lift our spirits, take us away from the stresses in our lives, and have an hour and a half of uninterrupted girl talk.
It is amazing to me how each run has not seemed longer than the last. By the end of our first 5 mile run, we felt just as good and just as tired as we did at the end of our 7 mile run. Frankly, I think the first time I ran 3 miles as a beginning runner was much harder. I hope this means that we are adding miles sensibly and that the 13 miles of race day will be equally comfortable; I guess we will find out…
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Saturday, January 17, 2009
I shall not die of a cold...
"I shall not die of a cold, I shall die of having lived." **Willa Cather**
Today's run finished week 6 of my training plan. Wow! I can't believe it has been 6 weeks already! It was the coldest run I have done since Germany. The temp was in the teens and I had been waiting for a while for the inevitable phone call from my running buddy to say she wasn't going to run. Today was supposed to be a 5K race, but since there weren't any in the area I had decided to just run my own 5K and try to maintain a 10 minute per mile (mpm) pace. One of my long term goals is to be able to run 10 minute miles comfortably, with my heart rate down in the 150's to 140's. I have a long way to go....
I finally decided it wasn't going to get any warmer outside. The flurries had stopped and the sun was peeking out so I put on a wool knit cap, my wind proof jacket, a turtle neck, a tech shirt, gloves, and running tights under running pants, then headed out the door. The first mile was REALLY hard. I was cold, stiff, and grumpy. I decided not to take my MP3 player because I wanted to be focused and maintain my 10 mpm pace, but I was a little too focused. My Garmin was supposed to be showing me little competing stick figures (virtual partner) to indicate if I was meeting my time goal, but I hadn't entirely figured it out so all I was seeing was how far I had left to run and what my pace was. I kept hearing the little voice in my head saying, "You will never maintain this pace, this is too hard, it is too cold, turn around and go HOME!"
The second mile was better. I was warming up, settling into a nice pace, breathing well (three steps in, three steps out), and feeling good. My mind was wandering a bit so I wasn't looking at my Garmin every few seconds, and the mile was over faster than the last.
The third mile started pretty good. Only one mile left at race pace, I was on the return route and I was actually getting hot! The wool hat that was so great at the beginning of the run was getting a little too warm. I was really beginning to sweat, but the front of my thighs, finger tips, and face were numb with cold. As I passed the familiar landmarks on my way home, the little voice had changed to, "You can do this, you can run all 3 miles at this pace, you can meet your goal, you are almost there!"
With a half mile left to go, I had had it with the wool hat and decided I didn't care if my ears froze and fell off, I had to ditch the hat. I pulled it off and felt the cool air blow through my sweaty hair. It felt wonderful, almost like a gulp of fresh water. The good feelings didn't last long though. I started having to work harder to keep my pace and my breathing stepped up to two steps in, two steps out. The dialogue in my head was something like, "Okay, there is the flag, I'll look at my Garmin when I get to the white mail box. My ears are freezing, wonder if they will fall off, in two, out two, in two, out two, in-in out-out in-in out-out I-am in-sane I-am in-sane in-in out-out in-in out-out I'm-a lun-atic I'm-a lun-atic in-in out-out, .3 left to go, in-in out-out, not looking until the next turn, in-in out-out in-in out-out..." until I finally heard the beep saying I was done, YAY!!
I wish I had been a little closer on reckoning my turn-around because the last few minutes of walking home were REALLY COLD!!!
So, I'm half way through my official training plan, although I do plan to extend it a bit. I'm beginning to feel like I can do this, but I know I have some very long runs ahead of me first. The best part is I have driven my RA back. It is not bothering me, the fatigue is not plaguing me, and there is no lingering pain in my joints. Tomorrow is shot day and I don't feel like the drugs have worn off from last time. It is such a sweet feeling! Maybe that is why I can run in the cold, because there are worse things than cold that could be holding me back and I know cold can be beaten with a hot shower. Cold holds no challenge.
Today's run finished week 6 of my training plan. Wow! I can't believe it has been 6 weeks already! It was the coldest run I have done since Germany. The temp was in the teens and I had been waiting for a while for the inevitable phone call from my running buddy to say she wasn't going to run. Today was supposed to be a 5K race, but since there weren't any in the area I had decided to just run my own 5K and try to maintain a 10 minute per mile (mpm) pace. One of my long term goals is to be able to run 10 minute miles comfortably, with my heart rate down in the 150's to 140's. I have a long way to go....
I finally decided it wasn't going to get any warmer outside. The flurries had stopped and the sun was peeking out so I put on a wool knit cap, my wind proof jacket, a turtle neck, a tech shirt, gloves, and running tights under running pants, then headed out the door. The first mile was REALLY hard. I was cold, stiff, and grumpy. I decided not to take my MP3 player because I wanted to be focused and maintain my 10 mpm pace, but I was a little too focused. My Garmin was supposed to be showing me little competing stick figures (virtual partner) to indicate if I was meeting my time goal, but I hadn't entirely figured it out so all I was seeing was how far I had left to run and what my pace was. I kept hearing the little voice in my head saying, "You will never maintain this pace, this is too hard, it is too cold, turn around and go HOME!"
The second mile was better. I was warming up, settling into a nice pace, breathing well (three steps in, three steps out), and feeling good. My mind was wandering a bit so I wasn't looking at my Garmin every few seconds, and the mile was over faster than the last.
The third mile started pretty good. Only one mile left at race pace, I was on the return route and I was actually getting hot! The wool hat that was so great at the beginning of the run was getting a little too warm. I was really beginning to sweat, but the front of my thighs, finger tips, and face were numb with cold. As I passed the familiar landmarks on my way home, the little voice had changed to, "You can do this, you can run all 3 miles at this pace, you can meet your goal, you are almost there!"
With a half mile left to go, I had had it with the wool hat and decided I didn't care if my ears froze and fell off, I had to ditch the hat. I pulled it off and felt the cool air blow through my sweaty hair. It felt wonderful, almost like a gulp of fresh water. The good feelings didn't last long though. I started having to work harder to keep my pace and my breathing stepped up to two steps in, two steps out. The dialogue in my head was something like, "Okay, there is the flag, I'll look at my Garmin when I get to the white mail box. My ears are freezing, wonder if they will fall off, in two, out two, in two, out two, in-in out-out in-in out-out I-am in-sane I-am in-sane in-in out-out in-in out-out I'm-a lun-atic I'm-a lun-atic in-in out-out, .3 left to go, in-in out-out, not looking until the next turn, in-in out-out in-in out-out..." until I finally heard the beep saying I was done, YAY!!
I wish I had been a little closer on reckoning my turn-around because the last few minutes of walking home were REALLY COLD!!!
So, I'm half way through my official training plan, although I do plan to extend it a bit. I'm beginning to feel like I can do this, but I know I have some very long runs ahead of me first. The best part is I have driven my RA back. It is not bothering me, the fatigue is not plaguing me, and there is no lingering pain in my joints. Tomorrow is shot day and I don't feel like the drugs have worn off from last time. It is such a sweet feeling! Maybe that is why I can run in the cold, because there are worse things than cold that could be holding me back and I know cold can be beaten with a hot shower. Cold holds no challenge.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
The Call of Icarus
My friend and I had a great run on Saturday. We covered 6 miles around the flight line of Langley Air Force Base, on a gorgeous cool, sunny day, with fighter jets taking off over our heads. We kept our spirits up and our heart rates down and we pattered along the jogging trail, chatting about girls stuff and laughing. It was all picture perfect until we came to the last mile.
The last mile was at the east end of the flight line, along the Chesapeake Bay. The sky was clear, the gulls were calling, and the wind nearly blew us off our feet. As we trudged forward, leaning into the wind, we could no longer talk. The wind took our voices away, and trying to keep moving forward left us huffing and puffing. We were still laughing though; the absurdity of the two of us barely making headway with every ounce of effort we could muster nearly dissolved us into fits of exhausted giggles. Just as our Garmins chirped to signal the completion of our 6 mile run, we finally found ourselves back among the solid brick buildings the mercifully broke the wind and allowed us to take our conversation back up. We had about half a mile left to walk back to our cars, which allowed for a nice cool down.
My buddy didn't want to stop though. The thought of getting back to her car, which had a comfy seat, a water bottle, a heater, and could whisk her home to a hot shower, over rode her desire to stop running. I assured her that it was best to cool down with some walking, and to stop running while we still felt good because it would leave us more eager for next weeks long run, (this got me a sideways glance that said both, "yea, right," and "What are you, nuts?" with daggers thrown in.) I'm pretty sure my buddy is only running with me because she is too much of a sweet southern lady to say, "Bite me," when I call to say, meet me at fill-in-the-blank for a 6 mile run, but at the end of the run we are both glad we did it.
The importance of sticking to a training plan cannot be stressed enough. Sure, it would probably have turned out okay if we had gone ahead and run that last ½ mile, but since we had only run 5 miles the week before, the chances were far too good that those last few minutes would put one of us over the edge and cause an injury which would stall our training program for a week or two at best. An ancient Chinese proverb says, "Going too far, is as bad as falling short." Adding miles too quickly will lead to an injury; and an injury will ruin race day just as badly as not being prepared by enough miles under your belt.
It is not an easy thing for a new runner to hold back. We are so excited by our new ability! We want to run, and keep running. We want to yell how many miles we covered from the rooftops and we want that number to be grand. We want to run until we are utterly spent and then get up and do it again. Unfortunately, this leaves us in the position of Icarus, so thrilled with his ability to fly that he ignored the warnings and soared too close to the sun. If we don't listen to experienced runners, and control our progress, we will find ourselves too close to the sun and falling fast.
The last mile was at the east end of the flight line, along the Chesapeake Bay. The sky was clear, the gulls were calling, and the wind nearly blew us off our feet. As we trudged forward, leaning into the wind, we could no longer talk. The wind took our voices away, and trying to keep moving forward left us huffing and puffing. We were still laughing though; the absurdity of the two of us barely making headway with every ounce of effort we could muster nearly dissolved us into fits of exhausted giggles. Just as our Garmins chirped to signal the completion of our 6 mile run, we finally found ourselves back among the solid brick buildings the mercifully broke the wind and allowed us to take our conversation back up. We had about half a mile left to walk back to our cars, which allowed for a nice cool down.
My buddy didn't want to stop though. The thought of getting back to her car, which had a comfy seat, a water bottle, a heater, and could whisk her home to a hot shower, over rode her desire to stop running. I assured her that it was best to cool down with some walking, and to stop running while we still felt good because it would leave us more eager for next weeks long run, (this got me a sideways glance that said both, "yea, right," and "What are you, nuts?" with daggers thrown in.) I'm pretty sure my buddy is only running with me because she is too much of a sweet southern lady to say, "Bite me," when I call to say, meet me at fill-in-the-blank for a 6 mile run, but at the end of the run we are both glad we did it.
The importance of sticking to a training plan cannot be stressed enough. Sure, it would probably have turned out okay if we had gone ahead and run that last ½ mile, but since we had only run 5 miles the week before, the chances were far too good that those last few minutes would put one of us over the edge and cause an injury which would stall our training program for a week or two at best. An ancient Chinese proverb says, "Going too far, is as bad as falling short." Adding miles too quickly will lead to an injury; and an injury will ruin race day just as badly as not being prepared by enough miles under your belt.
It is not an easy thing for a new runner to hold back. We are so excited by our new ability! We want to run, and keep running. We want to yell how many miles we covered from the rooftops and we want that number to be grand. We want to run until we are utterly spent and then get up and do it again. Unfortunately, this leaves us in the position of Icarus, so thrilled with his ability to fly that he ignored the warnings and soared too close to the sun. If we don't listen to experienced runners, and control our progress, we will find ourselves too close to the sun and falling fast.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
The Burning Desire
When you discover your mission, you will feel its demand. It will fill you with enthusiasm and a burning desire to get to work on it.
**W. Clement Stone**
I'm not big on the whole New Year's resolution thing. I keep the same goals until I meet them or decided it is no longer in my best interest to pursue them and I don't tie the formation of these goals to an arbitrary calendar mark. I prefer to let them follow the course of inspiration, determination, and success. My current fitness goals are not new or surprising: Get down to my goal weight, run my first half marathon, and finish a 10K in less than an hour.
Some goals seem to be with me forever. I've met my goal weight a few times, but it usually doesn't last and I was raised to always eat and live with the goal of loosing 10 pounds. It is often the only thing standing between me and the candy display at the checkout counter, and without this never ending goal, I'd need to loose a lot more.
My burning desire goals, the ones that keep me inspired, working, and focused, change often. I'm always learning something new, finding inspiration, and discovering new things that I never knew existed or I never thought were in the realm of possibility for me. Growing up, I was told marathons were for crazy people that ran until they peed blood, (my mother still tells me this regularly, including last week.) I'd never heard of half marathons, I guess it never occurred to me that there was anything between a 10K and a marathon. I knew about 10Ks because my dad ran a couple, but that was in the 70's or maybe 80's. However, once I started running and realizing it wasn't has hard as I thought, I discovered new goals. As distances got easier physically, they got easier mentally too and I caught the racing bug.
I've never been good at doing things I couldn't be the best at. As kid I quit if it wasn't easy and natural, and I definitely quit anything I couldn't master quickly. Now I'm grown up, and although I still like to be first and best, I know I'll never win a race. I joined the game much too late and am not built for speed, but I have been totally blown away at how all runners are treated as winners, even when they finish last. This game of simply setting a new PR, only competing against myself, and having a whole new group of friends that will cheer me on through the ups and downs, is so amazing to me. If running were one of those sports where you are only really welcome if you have talent or look like you fit in, I'd have given up long ago. It is the overwhelming acceptance of the running community that impresses me most. It is the only sport where the hero of the day one day can be the guy running the Boston Marathon, (hi Bruce!), and the next day it the newbie that is excited to have run a few steps for the first time, (keep up the good fight Stanley, you are doing awesome!) I'm also amazed at how effortlessly running bridges the age, gender, race, and religion gaps. When you find a group of people at an office or party chatting about running, it will be the most diverse group in the room. You also discover quickly that everyone has their Achilles Heel, some injury, or other handicap that they have to overcome to keep running. I don't think I've found a runner yet that didn't have to keep an eye on some joint or muscle or chronic condition, so that it doesn't sneak up and bite them on the backside. Runners are not quitters though. Some are following the burning desire to run, others are following the burning desire to stay in shape, get in shape, meet fitness standards for work, or just spend time on the road alone. Whatever the reason, we have all found the same modus operandi to slake our thirst and fuel our burning desire.
**W. Clement Stone**
I'm not big on the whole New Year's resolution thing. I keep the same goals until I meet them or decided it is no longer in my best interest to pursue them and I don't tie the formation of these goals to an arbitrary calendar mark. I prefer to let them follow the course of inspiration, determination, and success. My current fitness goals are not new or surprising: Get down to my goal weight, run my first half marathon, and finish a 10K in less than an hour.
Some goals seem to be with me forever. I've met my goal weight a few times, but it usually doesn't last and I was raised to always eat and live with the goal of loosing 10 pounds. It is often the only thing standing between me and the candy display at the checkout counter, and without this never ending goal, I'd need to loose a lot more.
My burning desire goals, the ones that keep me inspired, working, and focused, change often. I'm always learning something new, finding inspiration, and discovering new things that I never knew existed or I never thought were in the realm of possibility for me. Growing up, I was told marathons were for crazy people that ran until they peed blood, (my mother still tells me this regularly, including last week.) I'd never heard of half marathons, I guess it never occurred to me that there was anything between a 10K and a marathon. I knew about 10Ks because my dad ran a couple, but that was in the 70's or maybe 80's. However, once I started running and realizing it wasn't has hard as I thought, I discovered new goals. As distances got easier physically, they got easier mentally too and I caught the racing bug.
I've never been good at doing things I couldn't be the best at. As kid I quit if it wasn't easy and natural, and I definitely quit anything I couldn't master quickly. Now I'm grown up, and although I still like to be first and best, I know I'll never win a race. I joined the game much too late and am not built for speed, but I have been totally blown away at how all runners are treated as winners, even when they finish last. This game of simply setting a new PR, only competing against myself, and having a whole new group of friends that will cheer me on through the ups and downs, is so amazing to me. If running were one of those sports where you are only really welcome if you have talent or look like you fit in, I'd have given up long ago. It is the overwhelming acceptance of the running community that impresses me most. It is the only sport where the hero of the day one day can be the guy running the Boston Marathon, (hi Bruce!), and the next day it the newbie that is excited to have run a few steps for the first time, (keep up the good fight Stanley, you are doing awesome!) I'm also amazed at how effortlessly running bridges the age, gender, race, and religion gaps. When you find a group of people at an office or party chatting about running, it will be the most diverse group in the room. You also discover quickly that everyone has their Achilles Heel, some injury, or other handicap that they have to overcome to keep running. I don't think I've found a runner yet that didn't have to keep an eye on some joint or muscle or chronic condition, so that it doesn't sneak up and bite them on the backside. Runners are not quitters though. Some are following the burning desire to run, others are following the burning desire to stay in shape, get in shape, meet fitness standards for work, or just spend time on the road alone. Whatever the reason, we have all found the same modus operandi to slake our thirst and fuel our burning desire.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Turning 40
In spite of illness, in spite even of the archenemy sorrow, one can remain alive long past the usual date of disintegration if one is unafraid of change, insatiable in intellectual curiosity, interested in big things, and happy in small ways.
**Edith Wharton**
Wow, 40, what a concept! I'm still a young pup to those older than me, and an old lady to those younger. The population around me seems to be split evenly between the two.
My 30's were such a shocking decade to me. I have watched my two daughters grow from babies to young women. I have faced RA and overcome it as an obstacle in my life, and finished my Bachelorette. I've lost my grandparents and been abandoned by a sister and a father, but I have deepened the relationship with the family in my life. I've grown up and grown stronger. I feel ready for the next decade and whatever it brings, but I'm a little scared too. Now I know about the great curveballs that life can toss out and that it is not easy to knock them out of the ball park. I've lost much of the bravado of youth, that false confidence that you can often fool the world with, and sometimes yourself. It has been replaced with true confidence, the kind that comes from real success and not just the belief that I can succeed.
I listened to a book recently, (I love books on MP3,) called 5 Secrets You Must Discover Before You Die. What struck me about the book was not the secrets, because they are pretty obvious, but that they found they needed to pose their interview questions to people over 60. It seemed that before one reaches 60, time is rarely taken to reflect on life. I think that is where runners have an advantage. There are probably other fitness activities that provide time alone to reflect, but running is generally slow, (compared to biking,) and more often than not, solitary. For me it is hard to dwell on negatives when I run. If I do, I tend to run too fast and wear myself out, and then the endorphins kick in and I get over my negative mood. RA gave me the incentive to reflect, running gives me the time to reflect. I think most people reflect after 60 because they find themselves retired with time on their hands. The kids are grown and pressing needs just don't seem so pressing anymore. To achieve this earlier in life takes some sort of jarring event like an illness or accident, either to yourself or someone close to you. This is why I can never look on RA as a disaster; it has inspired me to do so much and enabled me to become so strong, much sooner than I would have otherwise. I would never wish bad events on the people, but I think we need them sometimes to remind us of the important points in life. Family, friends, love, and fun, need to be on our minds far more often than rivals, obstacles, and irritations.
I used to hate the timing of my birthday, but now I see the value in cracking open a fresh new calendar and having it also signal a new age too. I'm rolling into 2009 with a whole new decade ahead of me! There are a few things I know will probably happen in the next decade. I'll wave good bye to my daughters as they go off to college and enter the world as grown ups, we will retire from the military, and we will change houses again and again. What will I learn, what will I accomplish, where will I go? It is all ahead of me and how much joy I find is all up to me.
**Edith Wharton**
Wow, 40, what a concept! I'm still a young pup to those older than me, and an old lady to those younger. The population around me seems to be split evenly between the two.
My 30's were such a shocking decade to me. I have watched my two daughters grow from babies to young women. I have faced RA and overcome it as an obstacle in my life, and finished my Bachelorette. I've lost my grandparents and been abandoned by a sister and a father, but I have deepened the relationship with the family in my life. I've grown up and grown stronger. I feel ready for the next decade and whatever it brings, but I'm a little scared too. Now I know about the great curveballs that life can toss out and that it is not easy to knock them out of the ball park. I've lost much of the bravado of youth, that false confidence that you can often fool the world with, and sometimes yourself. It has been replaced with true confidence, the kind that comes from real success and not just the belief that I can succeed.
I listened to a book recently, (I love books on MP3,) called 5 Secrets You Must Discover Before You Die. What struck me about the book was not the secrets, because they are pretty obvious, but that they found they needed to pose their interview questions to people over 60. It seemed that before one reaches 60, time is rarely taken to reflect on life. I think that is where runners have an advantage. There are probably other fitness activities that provide time alone to reflect, but running is generally slow, (compared to biking,) and more often than not, solitary. For me it is hard to dwell on negatives when I run. If I do, I tend to run too fast and wear myself out, and then the endorphins kick in and I get over my negative mood. RA gave me the incentive to reflect, running gives me the time to reflect. I think most people reflect after 60 because they find themselves retired with time on their hands. The kids are grown and pressing needs just don't seem so pressing anymore. To achieve this earlier in life takes some sort of jarring event like an illness or accident, either to yourself or someone close to you. This is why I can never look on RA as a disaster; it has inspired me to do so much and enabled me to become so strong, much sooner than I would have otherwise. I would never wish bad events on the people, but I think we need them sometimes to remind us of the important points in life. Family, friends, love, and fun, need to be on our minds far more often than rivals, obstacles, and irritations.
I used to hate the timing of my birthday, but now I see the value in cracking open a fresh new calendar and having it also signal a new age too. I'm rolling into 2009 with a whole new decade ahead of me! There are a few things I know will probably happen in the next decade. I'll wave good bye to my daughters as they go off to college and enter the world as grown ups, we will retire from the military, and we will change houses again and again. What will I learn, what will I accomplish, where will I go? It is all ahead of me and how much joy I find is all up to me.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Happiness is Being Grateful to be Alive
"I would have been afraid, except that I was so grateful to be alive." **Brigadier General Rhonda Cornum**
We often see great people on television, or read about them in news papers and magazines, and we can't help but ask, "What made that person so great?" It is the ultimate question. What is it that holds one person back and gives another one wings?
Last night I met a woman I consider a hero. If I hadn't known who she was, I would never have guessed. She is thin and somewhat plain, in that she wore no make-up and had her long straight hair up in a clip, and she wore a neat blazer with a lapel pin that said, "Army," in crystals. Despite her unassuming appearance, there was an unmistakable intensity about her; she does nothing lightly. Most people have dogs, but she breeds Gordon Setters. Most people in the military run, but she has run half and full marathons. There are many women in the military, but few have attained the rank of Brigadier General, or been prisoners of war. Of course, over small talk at a Christmas party, one can hardly delve into someones psyche to learn what drives and motivates them, but you can get an impression of their personality, and the impression I got from General Cornum was this: Excuses are not in her vocabulary.
We talked about running and she admitted that she never considered it until she joined the Army. However, once she started running, the migraine headaches that had plagued her for years vanished. That was enough reason for her to keep running as long as her feet would carry her. Now when she runs she plans surgeries, speeches, reports, whatever is occupying her mind that needs sorting. This is the real duality of exercise. To someone that does not exercise, there isn't time. They are quite sure they could never come up with a free hour each day to devote to physical training. To someone that does exercise, it is an invaluable stretch of time in which they plan, dream, and reenergize themselves to conquer the conundrums of the day.
Everyone can come up with excuses for why they can't exercise: "I don't have time," "I have an injury, an illness, responsibilities..." Excuses are like blades of grass, all we have to do reach down and pluck one, or two, or a handful, as many as we need to keep from doing something we don't really want to do, or we can look up instead, and step on them all. We can stroll across them with our feet bare, feeling their presence and knowing we have risen above and moved on. Rhonda Cornum could have given in to excuses and no one would have faulted her. She could have turned down the mission that brought her into the public eye, (she herself wrote the mission plan that placed her in harm's way,) she could have given up when her helicopter crashed and her friends died around her. She could have given up when she was being brutalized by Iraqi soldiers, pulled to her feet by her broken arms, abused, and terrified. She could have retired years ago, with a successful career behind her and rested, but she hasn't. Instead she pushes forward, on to each new assignment with a strength gained through adversity and tenacity. She could have given up running. After all, she had suffered serious injuries including torn knee ligaments and a bullet in her back, but the pain of rehab was temporary and she knows the benefits of moving forward last a life time. As a Brigadier General she is surely busier than the average person, yet she makes time for her physical well being and hits the ground running.
Scary things happen to people. Car crashes, cancer, disasters, chronic illnesses, and endless other dangers threaten to steal our lives, but when they don't and we survive to see the sun rise on a new day, we must rejoice in the opportunity to live. We must be so focused on the gifts of life that it overcomes the fear of failure, pain, and the weariness of starting over yet again, and let them push us forward to our own version of success. We all have adversity in our lives. It is what we do with that adversity that separates the successful from the unsuccessful.
When I first felt the effects of a full blown RA flare, I was terrified. Now that I know I have survived it, that it is treatable and I can still do all the things I most want in life, I no longer have time to be afraid of the scary things the future might hold. I could be afraid, (what if my medication stops working, what if it causes cancer, what if...), but I'm too grateful to be alive!
We often see great people on television, or read about them in news papers and magazines, and we can't help but ask, "What made that person so great?" It is the ultimate question. What is it that holds one person back and gives another one wings?
Last night I met a woman I consider a hero. If I hadn't known who she was, I would never have guessed. She is thin and somewhat plain, in that she wore no make-up and had her long straight hair up in a clip, and she wore a neat blazer with a lapel pin that said, "Army," in crystals. Despite her unassuming appearance, there was an unmistakable intensity about her; she does nothing lightly. Most people have dogs, but she breeds Gordon Setters. Most people in the military run, but she has run half and full marathons. There are many women in the military, but few have attained the rank of Brigadier General, or been prisoners of war. Of course, over small talk at a Christmas party, one can hardly delve into someones psyche to learn what drives and motivates them, but you can get an impression of their personality, and the impression I got from General Cornum was this: Excuses are not in her vocabulary.
We talked about running and she admitted that she never considered it until she joined the Army. However, once she started running, the migraine headaches that had plagued her for years vanished. That was enough reason for her to keep running as long as her feet would carry her. Now when she runs she plans surgeries, speeches, reports, whatever is occupying her mind that needs sorting. This is the real duality of exercise. To someone that does not exercise, there isn't time. They are quite sure they could never come up with a free hour each day to devote to physical training. To someone that does exercise, it is an invaluable stretch of time in which they plan, dream, and reenergize themselves to conquer the conundrums of the day.
Everyone can come up with excuses for why they can't exercise: "I don't have time," "I have an injury, an illness, responsibilities..." Excuses are like blades of grass, all we have to do reach down and pluck one, or two, or a handful, as many as we need to keep from doing something we don't really want to do, or we can look up instead, and step on them all. We can stroll across them with our feet bare, feeling their presence and knowing we have risen above and moved on. Rhonda Cornum could have given in to excuses and no one would have faulted her. She could have turned down the mission that brought her into the public eye, (she herself wrote the mission plan that placed her in harm's way,) she could have given up when her helicopter crashed and her friends died around her. She could have given up when she was being brutalized by Iraqi soldiers, pulled to her feet by her broken arms, abused, and terrified. She could have retired years ago, with a successful career behind her and rested, but she hasn't. Instead she pushes forward, on to each new assignment with a strength gained through adversity and tenacity. She could have given up running. After all, she had suffered serious injuries including torn knee ligaments and a bullet in her back, but the pain of rehab was temporary and she knows the benefits of moving forward last a life time. As a Brigadier General she is surely busier than the average person, yet she makes time for her physical well being and hits the ground running.
Scary things happen to people. Car crashes, cancer, disasters, chronic illnesses, and endless other dangers threaten to steal our lives, but when they don't and we survive to see the sun rise on a new day, we must rejoice in the opportunity to live. We must be so focused on the gifts of life that it overcomes the fear of failure, pain, and the weariness of starting over yet again, and let them push us forward to our own version of success. We all have adversity in our lives. It is what we do with that adversity that separates the successful from the unsuccessful.
When I first felt the effects of a full blown RA flare, I was terrified. Now that I know I have survived it, that it is treatable and I can still do all the things I most want in life, I no longer have time to be afraid of the scary things the future might hold. I could be afraid, (what if my medication stops working, what if it causes cancer, what if...), but I'm too grateful to be alive!
Saturday, December 13, 2008
At the foot of the hill, looking up.
I've started Hal Higdon's novice half marathon training plan and am trying to start off slow. I need to NOT run so hard and fast that I wipe myself out too much for the next day's training. So today, I ran 4 very very very slow miles. It took almost 55 minutes to cover the 4 miles, but I did it running the whole way. It aggravates me that keeping my heart rate at 65% max means over 13 minutes per mile, but I know if I keep at it, that time will decrease. I know from my race a week ago that I can run for 30 minutes with my heart in the red zone, but that it will take me days to recover and probably isn't the healthiest thing to do on a regular basis.
Hal's novice half is a 12 week training plan, but I've started 15 weeks out so I can repeat weeks if necessary, and not feel too guilty about taking a week off for vacation in a couple of months. My longest training run will be 10 miles and I'm actually looking forward to it. I've covered 10 miles before, but always with mostly walking so I didn't count it as a run. Really, if you count miles mostly walked, I'm pretty sure I've done sight seeing marathons with the only running being what was needed to catch a subway train :-)
I dream of running a marathon one day, but first I need to conquer the half, and maybe another length in between. Patience is not my strong point. The real highlight for today was, as I was running, nearing the half way mark, a startling flash of bright lapis blue streaked past my eyes. I watched it until it stopped and the vision of a bright blue bird lit on a near by branch. I thought, this is the real reason to run outside on a cold day, to see wonderful things I would never catch site of if I stayed inside.
Hal's novice half is a 12 week training plan, but I've started 15 weeks out so I can repeat weeks if necessary, and not feel too guilty about taking a week off for vacation in a couple of months. My longest training run will be 10 miles and I'm actually looking forward to it. I've covered 10 miles before, but always with mostly walking so I didn't count it as a run. Really, if you count miles mostly walked, I'm pretty sure I've done sight seeing marathons with the only running being what was needed to catch a subway train :-)
I dream of running a marathon one day, but first I need to conquer the half, and maybe another length in between. Patience is not my strong point. The real highlight for today was, as I was running, nearing the half way mark, a startling flash of bright lapis blue streaked past my eyes. I watched it until it stopped and the vision of a bright blue bird lit on a near by branch. I thought, this is the real reason to run outside on a cold day, to see wonderful things I would never catch site of if I stayed inside.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
