I'LL BE DAMNED...

Want to know something depressing? I signed up for The Spudman (I like to call it the "sput-men") triathlon twice, and didn't show up... twice.
Depressing. I know.

Skip ahead to November 2012 and I had a free entry offered to me for the Ogden 1/2 marathon. "Sure!" I thought. I can totes train all winter for this bad boy and I'll be ready by May of 2013 for shizzle. So I bought me a treadmill on black friday. I was too chicken to use it for about a month. Then I finally did, and I was committed, every morning I hopped on that beast and watched an episode of the biggest loser while I calculated how many more weeks I had to race day. Then my kids got sick, over and over and over -  for months. From January 2013 to April 2013, someone in this house was constantly sick. So I chose sleep over treadmilling each morning.

Skip ahead again to May 2013... two saturdays ago. It was race day. The universe had given me EVERY SINGLE opportunity to be a "NO SHOW" for my third race in a row. But I'll be damned if the emotional scare of a marathon bomber across the country a month prior, or a puking baby the night prior, or a downpour of rain the day of... was going to make me prove a failure - for the third time. So nothing was going to stop me from showing up at the start line, and crossing the finish line. I would use any means to accomplish the 13.1 mile difference between the two.  And it sucked every drop of mental energy I had for three and a half hours, but I did it.

It's not a finish time to be proud of. It's rather humiliating actually. My results were pathetic.  I think only a handful of the 3,500 racers finished after me. Like I could count on my fingers and toes the people that finished behind me. I've failed a lot in my life. At almost everything I've ever tried actually. And some day, I hope, after all these decades of failing and trying again... I hope to actually win.  But with failure comes choice - and two weeks ago, at least I chose to show up.

And here's what happened......
(to be continued)

TWO HONKS AND A WAVE

Slogging is never fun for the first mile. It takes SO long for my body to remember how to run. Getting three kids situated in the tripple threat always takes a good mile anyway. There's binki's to attach and treats to hand out, sippy cups that drop ten thousand times (I'm going to tie them to a string... I swear it!), hats that need adjusting and buckles that are pinching! And brother is touching me!!!!! Layla almost always gets whipped in the eye with a binki tether and it's just NO BUENO. But then we all settle in a little and the slogging can really begin. And after about 10 minutes I'm too tired to continue and we walk back home.
But let me tell ya - those two honks and a wave I usually get from strangers driving to work or home from school, or whatever... they mean the world to me. It reminds me to keep going. Pick the sippy cup up one more time and TRY, just TRY to keep slogging a little farther. Just to that next stop sign...

FINDING ZION - Part 2

My entire body drenched with sweat, while Kday's body began to shut down due to the cold. His body not expending any energy at the pace we were moving, mine however was on overdrive. Soon my shirt was wet from the large flood of tears that dripped from my cheeks to my neck.
"I'm so disgusted with myself."
"How could I have worked so hard, and fallen so far again."
"I'm so fat I can hardly ask my body to walk a simple 3.5 mile trail."
"I don't know how to change."
"I hate myself."
"Why have I let this happen? Again!"

I cried and I walked. Kday listened, he did his best to try to offer encouragement, but we came to an understanding "You'll never understand the way I feel right now." He said, "You're right." And then I just got down right mad. Mad at myself for being me. Every single detail of Me. I hated it and I wanted it to go away.

The beast stirred some more, the anger arousing the beast from it's deep slumber. I tried to pick up the pace and walk a little faster. I tried to jog a few steps. I kept going. We passed the haunted houses as the trail forked and we turned right to face the last half mile. The 1/2 mile from hell. I'd heard all the runners complaining about it, even the really fit runners. A 1/2 mile of torture lay ahead of me and I needed to face it alone. Time was ticking and the next runner on the team was already 20 minutes behind departure time because of my lack of ability to move quickly. I told Kday to leave me. I have to remind myself that I don't quit and I can do this. I can do it, just me.

I poured out my soul with each step up that 1/2 mile Purgatory. I let out the anger, the dissapointment, I cried out the rage and discouragement, the frustration, the pity, the pain. I cried as I walked upward, each step in the darkness as more people continued to pass me like a mountain goat near the summit. I continued to creep and moan and groan my way up that miserable finish. The tiki-torch lined finish in sight, Kday yelling my name. All I could feel was the desire to release all the negativity that was dragging me down as I climbed the hill. But really, I just felt un-worthy to cross that finish line. In humiliation I stepped across the line and hurried my way to the side of the course and I cried again.

The beast was awoken, but I'm still struggling to let it thrive inside me. I'm still struggling to let it out and let go of the self hate. Each time I try to run now, each step I take in a stride... the beast is beginning to overshadow the hate. And each time I meet me daily goal of eating healthy, it's one step farther from the place I was in. I'm still on the hunt to finding the Zion within.

FINDING ZION - Part 1

Two weeks ago we packed up the Buca and the Piloted southbound. We were welcomed to Zion with perfect weather: warm enough to get sun burned, breezy enough not to feel hot. Anything above 70 degrees in my book is too darn hot. A breezy 68 was perfection for the entire weekend. I wasn't there to run as part of team: Come @ Me, I was merely there to manage the runners and camp to make certain all logistics ran smoothly and to ensure runners belly's were full and happy pre and post run. 

I was mostly excited to spend a weekend with my best friend, Kday whom I've rarely seen around these parts lately. Work, church, and general stress has been eating up our time together and I was eager to leave that all behind. There are few things in life that a conversation around a campfire and under the starry night of Zion can't fix. 

I watched as each runner headed out and struggled back into the finish area, I calculated run times, rest times, sleep breaks and potty breaks. I stood at the Start/Finish line with a lump in my throat as I watched each of my team members accomplished physical demands, and it stirred the sound slumber of the beast in me. I realized how easy it is to give up on my physical fitness when I haven't been around "the scene" in so many years. I can't believe it's been YEARS. 

The beast in me stirred as night began to fall and I inhaled the cool dusk air. I had planned to run the shortest of distances with Kday and my calculations predicted a mid-night run around 2:30 am. I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. Running in the darkness is such a spiritual adventure, it's demanding and scary, it's peaceful and almost sacred. 

Kday and I headed out with headlamps in place and nerves to be settled with the slow dusty path ahead of us. I ran for as long as I could, in silence, gingerly stepping across rocks and the dusty riveted trail. It was probably less than 5 minutes into the run when my lungs and my legs needed a break. Disgusting. I tried to be positive and whispered a quick "sorry Kev, I'm just so slow" and tried to continue to run/walk as quickly as I could. I used as much physical energy as I could to continue moving my feet, and I exhausted my mental energy attempting to stay positive. Time passed more slowly than my feet were passing over path. I slowed, and I slowed, and before I knew it... I was barely walking. I had no more apologies  I had no more words of encouragement  What felt like hundreds of runners had passed us in the night as I crept along the trail next to my best friend, a snail in the night - with a long journey ahead. 

To be continued....

MY INSPIRATION AND FRIEND

super wishing I was still that skinny right now! 

Since I've been MIA in the running scene for the past two years, I haven't blogged much about my bestie Becky. I miss our running days together. We still catch up for lunch whenever we can (although not often enough) and i have plans to return to running by her side again. Someday.

But today, you should read a this awesome post she wrote. My relationship with Becky started off on a professional level, and she saved my life. Literally. Had I never met Becky, I most likely wouldn't be alive today. She is ONE AMAZING WOMAN.
After my need for her professional help lessoned, over a matter of years our friendship grew outside of seeing her in her office. Then I went to work for her for a short while (not long enough :) And my favorite part of our friendship: we began running together. We talked and we ran and we laughed and we explored and learned and I just love Becky as one of my very favorite people on this planet!

You should read her post: BECKY

WHO IS RITA?

Once upon a time, I signed my mother in law up for a produce co-op at my friends house and my friend really thought my mother in laws name is Rita. Nope. That's her blog identity. I always like to think that when you've made a nickname for yourself on a blog - then you've really arrived.

Rita is Kday's mom and of course my favorite mother in law. There are many a girl out there in the world who could only WISH they had a MIL like Rita. She's awesome. Not one of those MIL's you avoid like the plague... nope, she's pretty fantastic. In fact, I usually look for excuses to go loiter at her house with my children.

She plans amazing parties. Our Halloween Extravaganza : Rita is the mastermind behind it all. New Years Eve Celebrations: Insane party with insane amounts of D-lish food. Chinese New Year: The reason we were even considered to adopt our little girl, because Rita throws a wicked CNY party. 4th of July: couldn't be done better by anyone else, the list goes on and on and on.

She loves my kids as much as I do.  Spoils them beyond belief and they love her too.
She is patient, thoughtful, selfless, creative, and wise.

And most of all, she's the Matriarch of the Day Family Clan. Her house is the safe haven her children seek in times of need or sorrow or celebration. She is the first one to celebrate each victory with her children and the first one to listen to them cry as they turn to her for help and guidance. Rita's life - is her children, and her children's children. She is the epitome of compassionate service. And as lucky as I am to have married a good man (her baby) I'm just as lucky to have married into his family. They're pretty fantastic.