The Road to Boston: Part III, Five Weeks…

Ugh five weeks… as each week goes by I feel the knot in my stomach grow and twist simultaneously. Part of me is eager for the race to be here merely so I can get it over with and have it behind me, but the other part of me insecurely whispers, “Am I ready?”

The truth is I have no doubt that I will finish, and if finishing was my only goal then I would happily run the race tomorrow. Qualifying for the Boston is an ambitious goal and I’m not entirely sure that I prepped properly for it. While I took my training seriously, I found myself easily side-tracked and swapping runs for other types of workouts.  Running has become an inane chore that I cannot wait to be free of for quite some time.

The stress and pressure of qualifying weigh heavily on me, and being a perfectionist to the core, my drive to not fail is both motivating and crippling. It is motivating because on the days where I just want to quit the mantra, “Champions don’t quit,” plays repeatedly in my mind. However, the stress cripples me greatly as it affects my sleep, my eating, and my energy levels. I feel like my mind is self-sabotaging itself and as the will to succeed and the fear of failure battle, my resolve is weakened.

The ability to succeed lies heavily ones belief in themselves and their capabilities. Unfortunately I am greatly lacking in this… my confidence in myself is limited and my self-esteem has suffered greatly for many years. So while I am typically I very positive and strong person, when it comes to doubting myself and my capacity to perform and do things well, it is too easy for me to say, “I’m not good enough.”

A good friend, may he rest in peace, told me a long time ago that I had lion eyes; it was one of the first things he said to me upon our meeting. After getting to know me a bit more, he told me, “You don’t just have lion eyes… you have the heart of a lion… you’re basically a lioness.” I just laughed, but on the inside, loved the thought of being compared to such a magnificent creature.

I have had others say similar things to me since, and I have realized that until I have the faith in myself that others do, I need to make my best effort to see myself the way that others see me… like a lion.

The Road to Boston: Part II, Narrowing the Focus

It is now 8 weeks till race day. I am starting to take myself a little more seriously as it rapidly approaches.  My training, which is already quite strict, will get even more so, and my diet will become a discipline, where 95% of all things that I take in throughout the week will benefit me (this includes my wine intake unfortunately…). My life will somewhat be monopolized by my upcoming race, and as I focus on it, my decision making process will come down to a simple question, “Will this help me reach my goal?”
I find that narrowing focus in life in general can be helpful. With any goal that you have in mind, you can ask yourself that question and see if it is helping you, or being detrimental to your success.

Today I had a terrible day. I woke up in a sweaty panic, and immediately stood from the couch, trying to wipe the nightmares from my mind by pretending they didn’t happen. But they remained with me. I drove into work and as I was crossing the street to my building I slightly twisted my ankle, which immediately caused me to worry and frustrated me greatly, to get hurt now after all this training would be very disheartening. I went in to work where my boss pulled me into a meeting and told me that I was not prioritizing appropriately and then proceeded to give me a deadline for a project which will be nearly impossible to meet. I took a deep breath and began to work, but then, as if forgetting the meeting and deadline she had just set before me, continued to send me numerous projects which made it impossible for me to even begin on the original project. My cell phone vibrated and I welcomed the reprieve of a short break to check my messages. It was a facebook message from someone who I had not heard from in a long while, but they seemed to think that I needed to hear their two cents on my life, where it was headed, and everything that I am doing wrong. Already feeling close to tears at this point, I frantically blinked back the ones that were now forcefully brimming. To feel judgment on your life is hard, but to feel misunderstood on the judgments that they are making feels almost worse.  Unfortunately, I had, and have, no desire to correct this person, and they can go on thinking of me as they would like, and whereas it hurts me greatly to be misjudged and to have my character called into question, to reopen the lines of communication would be far more damaging. After this I plowed into my work, wanting only to get lost and be preoccupied. After a few hours I stood up and stretched and as I stretched I looked down and out of the corner of my eye caught the sight of a dark spot on my chair. I looked down closer and to my horror, realized that the crimson tide had come early (sorry for the male readers…). I immediately spun around so that my back was to my cubicle wall. I reached around and pulled at the back of my black and WHITE dress… there was a blood stain square on the back of it, about the size of my hand. There was no controlling the tears at this point, they silently spilled over and I felt everything that had happened that day was right on my dress… I felt stained and dirty, gross and embarrassed. Luckily, I had worn my long coat so I shrugged it on and walked into the bathroom. I removed my dress and put on my coat, buttoning it up and feeling like flasher. As I began to wash my dress in the sink the tears freely ran down my cheeks, obviously I was not crying just over my dress, but the day was still young (this was right around noon) and I wanted nothing more than the day to be over. That was when I had my first “narrow your focus moment of the day”. Solve one problem at a time Holly, I told myself.  I completed washing my dress and thankfully was able to scrub out the stain (thank you lycra/poly blend material). So I now had a clean wet dress… wearing only my coat, but going with my mantra of solving one problem at a time, I merely went back to my desk, draped the wet portion of my dress over my fan and turned it on.

I then opened my facebook account read the message one more time and then deleted it. There was no reason to keep it on file. I knew that if I did I would keep coming back and re-reading it, analyzing the details, and hashing it over and over again in my mind. I set my phone down and tried to push the lingering thoughts out of my mind.

As the day continued on whenever I would feel overwhelmed or frustrated by something, I just broke it down and solved it the quickest and easiest way. However, the stress of the day wore me out mentally and that night while I was training with my trainer I hit the worst mental block and could barely finish the workout. I went home and cried… my poor sweet kitties cuddled with me as my tears soaked their fur. The ever present rational side of my brain nudged me in the right direction… narrow your focus it reminded me… I turned on worship music, wrote in my journal, and prayed… which for me is the trifecta of narrowing my focus. It brings everything back to what is important… God… who He is, what He stands for, and why He created me.

Once you narrow your focus to that, the daily nuances fade away and while drawing on his never ending love for strength, you are able to set your sights to tomorrow, and can rest easy in His promises.

Goodnight bad day… tomorrow is going to be better… wait and see.

The Road to Boston: Part I

Deciding to really go for one of your life goals is invigorating, challenging, frightening, and fulfilling… at least that is what it has felt like for me as I signed up for the San Diego Rock n’ Roll Marathon.

I started running when I was 16 and, while yes, there are days that I hate it and every step is a challenge, most days my run is where I find solace, peace, strength, and courage. It’s where my greatest competitor is my mind, and the battle is between my body and my will. The road never judges me, and with every stride I feel stress and tension leaving my body.  Once I find that cadence, my stride flows naturally with the thrumming bass and my mind wanders. I fell in love with running and the freedom that I feel from it.

I started doing 5 and 10k races recreationally but it wasn’t until a friend was going to do a marathon that I realized how badly I wanted to do it. In 2005 I began to train but before I signed up I injured my knee slightly and decided that it was not the right time. Then in 2007 another friend urged me to run the San Diego Rock n’ Roll Marathon with her and I decided to do it. I completed the marathon in around 5 hours and tho my body ached all over, I knew that I couldn’t wait to do another one.

The Boston Marathon is a landmark for competitive runners and it wasn’t long after I completed my marathon that I had my sights set on qualifying for the race. Timing and personal reasons pushed off the race again and again, and finally I decided that 2012 was the year that I would aim to qualify. How the Boston Marathon works is that there are certain races which serve as qualifiers, so if you complete the qualifying race in a certain time for your age and gender bracket then you are allowed to sign up for Boston.

This may sound silly, but it’s not so much important to me to actually RUN in the Boston but to say that I could sign up if I wanted to would be a huge accomplishment. My qualifying race is on June 3^rd and I have a goal time of finishing in 3 ½ hours; that’s maintaining about an 8 minute mile for 26.2 miles.

My training schedule is arduous and when I’m not working or sleeping, chances are I am in the gym. My progress is slow but it has been improving and I feel confident that if I remain disciplined that I will achieve my goal.

A little over a week ago I did not feel that way. I realized that I had been slacking off perpetually in my training, making excuses and just not pushing myself do to well. A friend asked me why I wasn’t hitting it as hard as I should be, and I realized that it was because I was afraid of failing. My strange mentality was that if I didn’t train as hard and then didn’t qualify I could say that it wasn’t my best effort and therein have an excuse for not reaching my goal. I felt like such a coward when I realized this, but have made the mental shift that I am going to give it my all, and if I train my hardest and still don’t qualify, then at least I tried. Reaching for your dreams can be intimidating, but you will never achieve them if you don’t reach for them.

I have since wondered how much of this mentality leaks into my everyday life… how afraid of failing am I? Is it keeping me from my hopes and dreams? Fear can stifle your life and cause you to take the easy road, which may feel good at the time, but how less fulfilled then is your life? How much are you missing out on?

My friend later sent me this quote by Beverly Sills: “You may be disappointed if you fail, but you are doomed if you don’t try.”

Being doomed is not on the menu, in any area of my life. Don’t let it be on yours either.

Thanksgiving

As I sat at the dinner table today and looked around at the people who surrounded me I knew I was blessed. This was my first Thanksgiving where I was not with any family members...well by blood... which by the way... I don't like saying people are related "by blood"... it just sounds creepy. Anyhow... I digress...

When I moved down to Southern California I knew that I was leaving behind my wonderful family and friends and did not know what I would find in my new home. Had I known the people who would quickly become my "SoCal Family" I would have never hesitated. I never knew why God brought me to southern California, but if it was only to meet this wonderful family, it would be enough.

They have taught me more about life, love, God, and friendship and to them I am eternally thankful. That being said... I am obviously very thankful for them. However... as this IS the day of thanks... I feel like it would be unfair to neglect some of the other things I am thankful for... I am going to skip over the more obvious items and get down to the odious ones... I shall keep the list to 10 items so as to not ramble.

1.) Pumpkin pie - yeah maybe cliche considering the holiday but it is SO delish
2.) Laughing so hard that something comes out your nose - yes it hurts, but it is so worth it
3.) Football - is there really anything better than napping on the couch while watching football... don't bother answering because the answer is always NO
4.) Sneezing - not the gross snotty kind, but just the little ones that feel so good to get out
5.) Chai Lattes - but only if they give me the hiccups...otherwise I am NOT thankful for them
6.) Hot Showers - this needs no explanation... OR if you feel like you need one take a cold shower and then tell me you aren't thankful for hot showers
7.) Colored Pens - somehow writing in different colored ink makes work more fun
8.) Games - pure fun... if you don't like games then we really aren't compatible
9.) Naps - you're welcome
10.) Long Hugs - good for any mood, you always feel better after a good hug...unless they have BO... maybe make sure that personal hygiene is in tact prior to the hug

Be thankful... be happy...seriously... laugh... it's good for you

Reminded

A week ago I decided to spend some time at my local Starbucks, taking in some good people watching while reading and writing. There was a homeless woman sitting at a table not too far from me and I noticed that she would take a small doll out of her pocket and talk to it. Granted, I do not know the real reason for this, but as I watched her speak fervently I felt sad. I realized that small doll was probably her closest "friend" (if you will), and the closest thing to real companionship that she had.

Earlier this week I was sitting in my cubicle at work reviewing a document when I heard one of my coworkers on the phone talking about his recent bout with cancer and radiation. I had noticed that he had missed some work recently but never thought twice about it. My heart felt heavy as I recalled when Billy went through his cancer treatment and how difficult it was, and how my coworker had been carrying this burden with a quiet strength.

This morning after my spin class I was perusing the news feed on good ol' FB when I came across a post that saddened me deeply. A friend posted about her recent miscarriage and my heart was just breaking for her. The empathy I felt caused my eyes to well and I closed my eyes to say a prayer for her and her family. I was immediately transported to my own miscarriage(s) and felt that deep ache and loss that permeates down to and through your soul, where only the healing touch of the Father can offer any solace.

In all three scenarios I was immediately humbled and reminded that there is always so much going on below the surface. We all carry our own struggles and we all fight our own battles daily. I was also reminded of how thankful I should be... that I have such wonderful friends for companionship, that Billy fully recovered from cancer, and that while those miscarriages were very painful, that God always has a plan and is always in control.

A friend and I have been going through a hard time, and I recently said to that person, "Please remember the good times." After I wrote that I thought about it for a little bit. What did I mean by that and why did it matter to me? Well, maybe not so much what does it mean... I think (hope?) the meaning is pretty well self explanatory, but why was it important to me that they remember the good times? I think it was because I felt like the friendship would be lost without it... that after all was said and done that everything we had been through would be lost in a sea of anger and sadness. And while I still think that it is vital to remember the good times, I think it is foolish to forget the bad.

Is it not our mistakes that cause us to grow the most? Even in the example of my friend and me going through our struggles,  our friendship would not be able to grow in a healthy way if we ignored the bad and did not learn from our mistakes. If we never learned from our mistakes we would hurt ourselves and those around us perpetually.

Our past is comprised of bad and good memories... times of love and laughter... moments of anger, sadness and tears... instances of hurt and pain... and without all of these we would not be who we are. Learn from the hurt and pain, forgive the anger and sadness, and cherish the love and laughter. But never forget... always be reminded.

Memories are a window to our past, and help us walk through the doors of our future.

Life Goes On

Sometimes bad things happen.

Sometimes life doesn't go the way we would like it to.

Fortunately, this does not mean that life ceases... the world continues to turn and time ticks on... so the moments in which we feel fragile and broken pass and hopefully we take with the hard lessons the growth and wisdom that accompanies them. Heartache in this life in inevitable and the least we can do is learn from our circumstances and try and not make the same mistake twice.

I try to avoid learning hard way...unfortunately this is my current method. Insisting upon falling flat on my face and then looking around in bewilderment like, "What the poop just happened?" For those of you who snowboard, what I'm about to say will mean more to you than others... I feel like lately I have been catching my edge continually...getting violently tossed to the ground, wiping out in the worst way possible. After I shake it off, I unsteadily work my way to standing. Pushing through the pain I assess that while I might be pretty seriously bruised, there is no permanent damage.

I have just had a hard run and am currently riding the lift back to the top... what will happen? Will I find fresh powder and peacefully carve my way down the mountain? As one of my dear friends reminds me, we are the captain of our own ship (thanks puzzle piece) and therefore can sail into whatever waters we choose (bear with me as I know that I have switched metaphors at whiplash speed). I pray that I have the wisdom to choose the right waters, the right path, and at the end of the path find my safe harbor.

skinned knees
bleary eyes
wasted so much time believing senseless lies
not gonna waste tears on these goodbyes
get up get up
you're stronger than that
brush off those palms
no looking back
--Me

Fragile

I'm having one of those mornings where I'm acting like the grumpy little baby who didn't get enough sleep and has a poopy diaper. I am cranky and frustrated but I'll still smile and laugh if you distract me from my current state. Unfortunately, once that distraction is gone I find myself slipping back into a painful state of mind.

After waking sometime in the wee hours this morning from a bad dream, I sat on the floor of my apartment, Lizzie resting in my lap, and I prayed...and I prayed... and I cried... and I prayed some more. It is times like this that I hate myself... so weak and fragile. Shame and disgust cause more tears to spill over and I just hope that in some form I am growing, learning, or at least take steps in the right direction.

As I sat and prayed I knew God was with me... but that peace I normally feel never washed over me, and as dawn's light pressed in through the blinds, I knew I was in for a long day. I feel as tho I am high on a mountain top, standing on the tiniest precipice that should I falter in any direction but the right one, I am doomed.

Life has to change...I know this. If life was dormant would it be life at all? Not much of one; that is certain. During change footfalls feel indeterminate, and each step is a risk that you are just hoping leads you to where you are supposed to go.

I take a deep breathe and am thankful that God has given me the ability to release frustration through writing, and maybe that is why I didn't feel that peace till now. As I bring this to a close, I still recognize how fragile life is, but I hold onto the things in life that I treasure and value... love, hope, joy and laughter. Life would be empty without these for me.

Through the haze and the dust I am doing my best to find that sure-footing, and while the road is precarious, I know that I must continue to walk... because going back is not an option.

"Nothing compares
No worries or cares
Regrets and mistakes
They are memories made
Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?"
-Adele