No Longer Virgin

Two weeks ago I ran a 13.1 mile race delightfully called a Diva Half Marathon. It was not my first time. My first half was in Greenville, SC in 2011.

After having Hollie in 2008, I went back to running in an attempt to lose the baby weight. When the first 30 pounds came off but nothing else did, I thought adding mileage was the way to shed more weight.

What’s amazing to me is not that I was able to log the training hours or that I completed the race, but that the motivation for taking on such a thing was so ridiculously naïve.

Running to lose weight will not take you 13.1 miles.

There must be some other motivation. Some other voice in your head daring you to see if you can actually achieve such a thing. The miles are just too long and the effort just too hard to rely on the calorie burn as motivation.

Going the Distance

We ran 4.5 miles on Sunday, my younger sister and I. We left my driveway, headed East and followed the main roads out of the neighborhood. 

I’m much slower than she but she stayed with me anyway. We chatted a little which is unusual for both of us as we typically run solo.

I told her about our Lean In Columbia group, who had joined, what our plans were, and how excited I am about the future.

We crossed over the community road and into another neighborhood where we ran the back side of the top loop and then down into the bottom loop and made the full circle.

We talked about our running habits, what we like about running, how we motivate ourselves, how we keep warm.

At the bottom of the first big ascent I stopped to find inspirational music. I chose the Rocky song "Going the Distance."

We made it to the top and I said, “I feel lazy today. I really don’t want to run anymore.”

We were in mile three. We kept the pace. At the stop sign we turned right and took the long way home.

“Go that way,” I said, “Just because I don’t want to run doesn’t mean I’m going to stop.”

Bell Jars and Recovery

I spent yesterday in the Bell Jar.

Photo by Camel & Yak via Pinterest

Wednesday morning Charlie left early for Charlotte and I stayed in bed until Hollie came in to wake me. It was 9:20. She had to leave for school by 9:40.

When one begins the day that far behind, playing catch up is futile.

So I crawled back in bed and stayed there.

What my day in the Bell Jar taught me is that nothing makes us immune from low points.

Not education, not optimism, not even ambition. Low points come. Worries wash over us and knock us down and sometimes it’s easier to just stay down for a day and regroup.

So now I’m all regrouped and I have a plan to make a plan.

I said to myself, “I’m a writer. I should write. That’ll get me outta this.”

I didn’t worry about what to write or where I would put it. I just told myself to write.

Later I’ll run. Not worried about distance or time. Just run.

I have faith that if I keep doing what I do, eventually the effort will equate to progress.

It’s the not doing anything that keeps us in the Bell Jar.

So do something resembling anything of value. We’ll worry about how to get paid for it later.

Ever had a Bell Jar day?

Let It Go

I have never been a pack rat. I don’t collect things or keep things that have no use. I have never been one with regrets, the past is in the past and I don’t let it weigh me down. And yet, this year, I have learned three very powerful words:

Let it go.

If you can fix it, do. If you can change it, do. If you can’t, let it go.

I like to have themes in my year. In 2012, I said “Enjoy the process.” And in 2013, I planned to use “Never be afraid of hard work.”

But, magically, a new theme emerged right when I needed it most. I didn’t plan for the phrase of 2013 to be Let It Go, but it was.

My older sister has changed her phone number, refuses to speak to us, and is very possibly in an abusive relationship. Yet I cannot help her.

Let it go.

My Nana’s long battle with pulmonary fibrosis finally ended and she died peacefully at home surrounded by family. Except me. I was 5000 miles away.

Let it go.

My seven year journey for a PhD ended with the words I dreamed of hearing, “Congratulations, Dr. Whitener.” That struggle is over.

Let it go.

When the weight of life threatened to suffocate me into inaction, pity, grief, guilt, the words came, “Let it go.”

Thank you, 2013, for delivering such a powerful mantra. Thank you for giving me the courage to move on.

In Which She Used a Snake, a Blogger, an iPhone, and Finally Rain

Yesterday after reading this great piece by Ollin Morales on the Courage to Create blog I did what a dutiful blog reader does: I shared it. (hint hint)

 

I shared it because it talks about technology and how our addiction to it has dehumanized us in many ways. He said technology may make things easier and more accessible, it may fill our lives with information and data but it does not provide knowledge.

 

Daisy @ Reedy River photo by KDW

I agreed with Ollin so much that I shared his post (another hint) and really tried to take his message to heart. Deep, spiritual, fulfilling knowledge like the origin of the soul and the irreplaceability of true friendship cannot be found through technology.

I agreed.

Then I pulled up the Map My Run app on my iPhone, stuck my earbuds in, chose a podcast from the HBR library and set out for a run.

Under Armored and plugged in, I let my high tech running shoes strike pavement and I ran.

The first podcast was about motivation and the guests had written an article about two distinct types of motivation. They called the types promotional and preventional.

Another Opening Day

I am trying to learn Chi Running wherein one ceases to suffer and instead runs like a child with joy and stamina that flow from our Chi or energy source.

My heart pounds and I feel every step. Every. Step.

“Breathe,” I remind myself, “lean in.”

Photo by LJR

 

Another Opening Day.

It’s been a year. I’ve been on this new journey for a year. Not the Chi Running thing, that’s about three days old. But the journey to define myself as an independent entrepreneur, to eschew corporate shackles for wide open spaces.

My birthday just passed and I’ve been on this journey since I served my old cube mates cupcakes and then said goodbye to them forever. I ripped them off like a band aid. Raced into the unknown.

They told me I was brave. I felt brave.

Now it’s been a year and I feel less brave.

Of all these new things we’ve tried, moving to a new city, building a new house, kid in a new preschool, husband in a new store, the hardest has been mommy in a new job. It hasn’t panned out like everything else. It hasn’t been fine. Wonderful. More than we could have asked for.

It’s been scary.

It’s been uncertain.

 

Resolve to Create a Habit of Change

It feels bizarre that I haven’t yet written a blog post about setting goals for the 2013. I mean come on. This whole blog is about goal setting and measuring achievement and reaching beyond your limits to be a better person. 

I am a true slacker. Or not really.

Photo by LJR; request permission before using.

Really goal setting takes time and while the end of the year and the beginning of the next offers us a chance to renew commitments and dream of bigger, better things, I have seen the YMCA syndrome before.

You have, too, if you’ve ever been a faithful (summer months, too!) member of a gym. The very first week day after the holidays the YMCA is PACKED. You have to wait for a treadmill. You discover there’s not a bike for you in spin class. You notice several new people bulging out of their swim suits in the lap lane.

By February these New Year’s Resolutionists have faded from everything except the automatic dues deduction process.

The point is that anyone can start over on January 1. The best thing to combat the blues after the holiday season is passion about a new chance to be Better Than You’ve Ever Been.

And millions of people and thousands of bloggers and hundreds of fitness experts and several dozen well-meaning dieticians are telling you exactly how to do that.

But not here. No sir. Not on Clemson Road.

If you haven’t been setting goals all along and holding yourself accountable then you haven’t been paying attention.

Remind Run Repeat

There’s one word hanging over my desk. Thanks to a summer spent in a preschool where the ratio of teacher to student was 1:2, HB (age 4) can now read it. Standing under it and looking up, she sounds out the letters:

“R says ruh, U says uh, N says nuh. Ruh-Uh-Nuh. Run!”

Yep, the word over the desk is RUN. Not that I have been. I’ve been out for two weeks. 

I felt guilty for a week or so but I don’t now. My ankle was hurting, my shoes are going bad (again!) and I’m not that excited about the group I’ve been with. They’re nice but I haven’t made any real friends there.

I bailed like HB at dance class. I am still looking for a NE Cola running group (send suggestions), but taking some time off. I'm changing direction.

So why does the word RUN have such prominence on my desk? What the heck does it have to do with Kasie’s Autonomy? It’s a mantra reminder.

The Down Side to Achievement Part II

What do we do about the self-defeating side of achievement? 

How do we keep ourselves from sliding completely into an abyss of self-loathing, or, worse, becoming so goal-obsessed that we disregard all other things in pursuit of perfection? 

Here are three ways, of course, because bloggers love lists!

Through hardship to the stars, by Tom & Carol who sponsored my leg in the Spinx 1/2 last year.

1) Identify YOUR levels.

Take some time to say, “this is the dream level.” – for me, this is regular 10 mile runs, marathons, seriously crazy runner-freak stuff.

The Down Side of Achievement

The problem with being a continuous-improvement-junky is achievement. I know, that seems counter-intuitive. We want to achieve, right? We want to get better. I do. Every day I do.

Six miles? No problem!

But once I’ve achieved something it becomes a standard. So today, as I huffed and puffed through 4 miles, reminding myself that running is a habit and I’ve been slack in the habit for months, I kept thinking, “I run 6 miles. Minimum.”

Yep.

Like when I swim. I swim 3000 yards. Period. No less.

How does this happen? High jumpers don’t take a month off in December, gorge themselves on Christmas cookies and eggnog and come back to the bar at 6 feet high. So why should I?

Trust me, I'm a doctor

A bone healing machine. The prescription I received for the injury that ended my half marathon training is a machine that stimulates bone growth.  I have a stress fracture and the doctor prescribed electronic voodoo.

He’s the second doctor I’ve seen. The first took me even less seriously. She just told me not to run. So, after 12 weeks of medically-prescribed rest and CVS-provided-anti-inflammatories, I got a referral to an Ortho.

Dr. Womack is a consultant to an NCAA Division 1 football program. He’s young and could easily be harboring ambitions of an NFL team doc job. He is tall and reminds me of my OBGYN, except he doesn’t know me and I don’t know him.

Dancing School Drop Out

I let HB quit the first activity she's ever been in. I swore I wouldn't. I promised myself that it was a commitment and if there was one thing my mom taught me about commitments, it was that you keep them.

When HB began dance lessons in August I knew there was a chance we would move and I allowed that moving would remove her from dance. We made it through The Nutcracker in December, during which she won over the audience by calling, "Mommy! Mommy!" from the stage.

But since The Nutcracker she has whined every Monday when it was time to go. Last week she refused to enter the building and we ended up fighting in the parking lot until I gave in and took her home.