Peace Be the Journey

There's an article in this months edition of Runners World about a man named Tommy Leonard who is best known for organizing the Falmouth Road Race in Falmouth Massachusetts. This article is six pages long and chronicles his life from the age of six till now... the pages are filled with facts about all the races he's organized as well as all the bars he's tended from Massachusetts to CA. Through it all it becomes apparent that this man had two love affairs ... running and beer. One story in particular stands out... he was running the 1986 Houston marathon at a sub 3 hour pace, unfortunately at mile 23 Pro's Bar came into view and he stopped to have a pint. Turns out he finished the beer, but not the race. When Tommy wasn't running he was tending bar... you would think he excelled at this but no. His boss Michael Cleary, of the Cork 'N Hearth says, "He truly was the worst bar tender in the world... You order dinner at the bar, you might get dessert first, then an entree, then the salad if your lucky. But that's because he was always in the middle of a story."

One such story includes the time that his buddy Eddie Burke threw him a surprise party which included bringing a police horse up to the bar. Tommy says, "That horse went up and down the bar and acknowledged every customer. I fed him one or two White Russians. Then some lady at the bar called the Health Department and we had to get him the hell out of there fast, which wasn't easy... But that horse, he was having such a good time he didn't want to leave." The party was thrown in gratitude for Tommy's constant fundraising. He started the "Friends of Eliot Fund" where he collected cash from regulars when he read about misfortunes in the newspaper.

If you read between the lines it's obvious that Tommy's third and fourth love are people and life in general. To most of us the idea of getting so close to the finish line of a marathon after so much training and then just stopping for a beer is ludicrous and unfathomable. But it seems to me that Tommy has a different finish line in mind. His life is a race and he recognizes the need to enjoy the journey. As long as he's doing what he loves he's happy... artificial finish lines be damned. Often times we put so much emphasis on the completion of an activity and forget to focus on the joy of the act. It's almost as if the lack of fruition diminishes the greatness of the journey. Hopefully when Tommy looks back on his life he doesn't say, "Man I wish I'd finished that one race....He says what a run." We should all be so lucky.

Monday Monday... So good to me!

This is the follow up to my half marathon weekend post. Monday needed a post all on it's own.

Do you ever have one of those days where everything just falls into place? This was one of those days. The morning started off with a raid of clothes that Morgan was giving away... new running clothes??? Yes please! Then we headed of to the adorable Pannikin for coffee, muffins, cinnamon rolls and carrot cake... yeah yeah I know not exactly healthy but we couldn't decide!

The crazy part was when we parked in front of Pannikin I looked up and the shopping center in front of me looked really familiar with its cute little yellow buildings and I knew I'd seen it before. Turns out I'd seen it in pictures from numerous Google searches. One of the stores was DeepFling... a store that specializes in Scandinavian clothes and jewelry. I had been wanting to go there for months because they carry the jewelry line from Sweden that Carly and I fell in love with on our trip. We were sad to find that it didn't open for another hour but it turned out to be fortuitous because Morgan joined us for breakfast half way through when she was done with her workout and we all trouped over there afterword. Carly decided to buy herself a graduation present.

Or maybe a couple graduation presents... Then we said good bye to Morgan and got in the car and Carly points to this tattoo parlor in front of us and says, "That's where I almost got my nose pierced." I told her that I had been considering getting a tattoo for a while now and that I had promised myself if I finished the race I would finally get it. Before I knew it she was on the phone asking Morgan if it was a good place for tattoos and Morgan was flipping a u-turn.

I had decided long ago that I would get the word Balance on my wrist. When the tattoo guy asked me why I was getting it I told him it represented my life over the past year. I explained that I had spent the last four years almost completely focused on academia which led to a fairly sedentary life with no time for anything else like I don't know ... exercise. This year had been all about seeking a life of balance. I didn't wan't to be focused on any one thing. I think it can best be summed up by the Einstein quote, "Life is like riding a bicycle, one can only move forward with balance." He also asked about the race and the reasons why I run which I could repeat but Morgan does it so much better in her blog soo... http://runningbums.blogspot.com/2011/06/its-not-about-performance-its-about.html.

The actual process of getting the tattoo was much more painful then I anticipated. Apparently the wrist is one of the most painful spots to get a tattoo. I probably should have figured that out before hand huh? Oh well. Luckily I had Carly to hold my hand through it all and Morgan to document the experience. Don't you think this girl should go into photo journalism?

Over a week has gone by and I'm still ecstatic about it. Not only is it a daily reminder to seek balance whether that be between exercising and my ever present need to eat cake or between enjoying things that are safe and comforting while still remembering the reward that comes from pushing myself out of my comfort zone and trying new things. It's also a reminder of this amazing weekend that I got to spend with wonderful people doing something I never thought I could.

Running From the Voices of My Past

Isn't it interesting how our pasts have such a large affect on our thoughts and actions in the present? Unfortunately it's usually in a negative capacity. There exists this little voice inside of me that has the power to completely over rule my ability to think logically. Take for example when I was recovering the flu, as soon as the symptoms started to lessen I was back to the gym. As soon as I could run without coughing I started running again. It didn't seem to matter that everyone told me I needed to let my body heal, there was that voice telling me that this was just an obstacle and the old me would have let it get in the way, but I wasn't gonna do that this time. What happened? I got sick again. But it wasn't that bad right? Just some kidney pain... that shouldn't affect my running... I had a half marathon approaching at breakneck speed after all.

So last Wednesday I got up early and went for a run. I couldn't run for more than a minute without needing to walk. I felt terrible the rest of the day and could barely keep my eyes open. I was so angry at myself, I felt like I should have been able to push myself harder, if I could just change my mindset maybe I'd find the strength to run harder. Luckily I had a friend who told me what an idiot I was being and it made me stop and think long enough to realize that my body was screaming at me that it was doing all it possibly could to heal itself and I wasn't helping matters. So I stopped running for a week and guess what? I had the best run ever tonight. I ran four miles with no problems and I could have run another two, luckily this time that voice in my head told me to stop and I actually listened. For once it took more willpower to stop then to push myself harder.

Our days are filled with the voices of our past. Whether it be our own voice or the voices of those around us. Some are positive and they remind us of the right thing to do in a certain situation. Others prey on our deepest insecurities to the point where we lose our ability to think logically and all we want to do is prove it wrong. We have this need to prove that we're changing and evolving and learning from past mistakes. This doesn't have to be a bad thing as long as we remember all things must exist in moderation... a balance between determination and logic. Listen to more than just that one voice, listen to your friends and family who have your best interests at heart and most importantly listen to your own voice... here and now. Your current voice knows far more about the person you have become then the voices of your past.

The Ever Changing Surface

What words would you use to describe yourself? There's a myriad of words I've used over my life time... reader, shy, klutz, Christian, student, cowgirl, band geek, bio major. I wouldn't use any of these words to describe me now. Or would I? These are the words of my past.

Is my past not part of me?

It's our experiences that shape who we are at any given point in our lives. If you play a sport, you might call yourself an athlete. If you a play an instrument, a musician. But where do we draw the line, how do we know what actions are important enough to describe who we are. Just because you watch a movie doesn't necessarily make you film aficionado and listening to music doesn't automatically make you an audiophile. The truth is we choose who we are.

I always had this idea that who I am was predetermined the day I was born and I simply had to discover it. Like I was black box with a hole in the top and every thing that made me me was inside of it, but I couldn't see it. All I could do is reach my hand in and pull out one thing at a time and examine it. I imagine my self saying something like, "Huh, a book. I like books. I must be reader." I now realize how terrifying this idea is. It means there's a limit. Sooner or later I'll reach in and come back with nothing.

These days I have a very different outlook. I imagine myself reaching out for anything that interests me and examining it. I look at it's shape, color, texture and most importantly the way it makes me feel and then I make the decision whether it becomes a part of me or not. Oh and that container I store it in... it's no longer a black box with a small whole in the top. It's more like a clear vase so that others can see me too. Those words that I used to use to describe myself are in there, they're just clustered in the middle. I'm still a reader, a cowgirl, and a bio major; but my current words are plastered to the sides of the glass in a mosaic of sizes and patterns and colors.

My current words might be traveler, hop head, writer, gym rat, baker, aspiring yogi, and most recent... runner. This last word is the driving force behind new outlook. You see in a million years I would have never thought I would describe my self as a runner. If questioned I believe my old room mates would say there is nothing I hated more than running. I was pathetic in my attempts really... whining and complaining... and that was just the process of getting my shoes on. Yet here I am training for a half marathon in June. I've had knee problems, tendinitis and most recently four gigantic blisters (what idiot runs without socks anyway?) and yet I'm still running. Oddest of all? I'm enjoying it. That's not to say i'm particularly good at it, but the process of improving and pushing myself and exceeding my expectations is exhilarating.

George Bernard Shaw said, "Life is not about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself."

Oddly enough I found that quote while in the process of writing this. Like just now. How crazy is that? How crazy is life? It has so much to offer as long as we're willing to reach out for it. Whether that becomes a part of who you are is up to you. So stop finding yourself... it's too limiting. Create your own mosaic and don't forget that the surface of the glass is ever changing if you allow it to be. It's okay for your words to shift to the interior and make room for new ones; they'll always be a part of you.