A Little Retreat

Yesterday I went to a women’s retreat in a gorgeous spot in the woods around Boulder. It wasn’t work related or religiously affiliated – just a way to get some good reminders about life.

This day had nothing to do with fitness or running or injuries or race strategies. It’s good to get a break. I go to these things periodically mainly to get a reminder to Lighten Up Francis and to get some perspective. The general themes focused on quieting the mind, letting go of worry/fear, and having self control and discipline.

Meditation cabin on the property

The facilitator asked each of us to think about a belief we had about ourselves. 100% of the women there said they felt “not good enough.” We were asked to challenge this belief. People shared their stories of recent divorce, financial hardships, family issues. Although we each presented with different circumstances, the themes are always the same: we all struggle, we all want to be accepted/connected, we all worry about shit we can’t control, we all get stuck focusing on the negative stuff in our lives or what we don’t have.

I love women. Get a room full of female strangers/vaginas together and they will interact, support one another, and offer compassion, humor and encouragement. Sure, women can be catty, but not in this environment. This was no “Real Housewives of Boulder” (except when I whipped out my $5.19 leopard handbag from Kohls and everyone fell to the floor with envy). 

Really, it is like coming home. A safe place to be vulnerable and to be myself.

Except for farting. We did a total of 45 minutes of meditation (this nearly killed me. Sitting still and doing nothing is not my forte, but is something I am working on). Anyway, by the third meditation session I was so gassy. It was right after lunch. You could hear everyone’s stomach rumbling and one girl had a coughing fit. I almost farted during her fit knowing it would cover up the sound of flatulence (that could be a song! "The Sound of Flatulence”), but then there is always the smell issue. In the end, I did not fart.

The teacher did say we all needed more self control, so I got an A+ in that area.  I immediately let some loose in the car going home and I haven’t stopped yet. Sweet relief.

Hello my name is Beth! These are not running clothes!

Today was a reminder of so many good lessons. I a diligent student, so I took thorough notes in my favorite fancy and exotic book (Bethany Frankel doesn’t even have one of these):

• Nothing is more important than having peace.  This means letting go of thoughts that don’t serve us and taking time to be still through prayer/meditation. It also means giving up your need to be right all the time.
• Happiness is simply and solely a matter of what you choose to focus on. (Remember the crap vs. the corn?)
• Ask for what you need from people. Don’t be shy. Don’t expect them to read your mind.
• When your mind is judging, controlling, manipulating, etc, don’t feed it. Stop it.
• We all have beliefs about ourselves (i.e., “I’m not good enough,” “I’m only worthwhile if I make a certain amount of money,” etc). It’s helpful to make a list of our beliefs and challenge them. Most of the time (like 95%) they are not true.
• “Letting go is the path to real freedom” – from the Tibetan Book of Living and Dying

Does any of this makes sense? Do you do it in your daily life? It makes a crap load of sense to me, but I don’t always do it. I am always trying and am at least aware of not doing it. That counts, right?

Happy Monday!

SUAR

PS: The winner of the Saucony Shoe Giveaway is Ashley from Run, Fatty, Run who is cute as can be and not fat at all!  Email me at beth@shutupandrun with which of the two shoes you want, your shoe size and your address. I will need this info TODAY! Congrats!

Happyness

The kids and I were watching a favorite movie of mine, “The Pursuit of Happyness,” last night.

It’s based on the true story of Chris Garnder who, hard on his luck, becomes homeless with his five year old son. I won’t spoil the ending if you haven’t seen it. While playing basketball with his son, Gardner says:

“Don't ever let somebody tell you... You can't do something.  You got a dream... You gotta protect it. People can't do something themselves, they wanna tell you you can't do it. If you want something, go get it. Period.”

I turned up the volume to about 50 and asked the kids, “Did you hear that?”

Kids: “Uh, yeah. It was kind of loud.”
Me: “But, do you get it? Do you see what he means that you should never give up?”
Kids: “Uh, yeah. Okay. Can we have some more chocolate chips in a bowl?”

Later, after the chocolate chips were put away, and the kids were snug in their beds, I contemplated the quote. When someone tells us we can’t/shouldn’t do something or that we are not good enough, we can have one of two responses:

1. Believe them and prove them right. This is when you give up and think, “Yeah, they’re right. Who was I to even think I could do that anyway?” You see this all the time when a parent, coach or teacher tells a child that they are “bad”. The kid responds with “Let me show you just how bad a I can be,” and lives out the self-fulfilling prophecy.
2. Believe in yourself and prove them wrong.

Guess which option I like better?

Most of the time we are told we can’t do things by people who love and care about us, but want to protect us. They do not intend to be discouraging, they intend to take care of us. I can think of two incidents in my life where I was told I couldn't/shouldn’t do something I really wanted to do.

The first time was when I was 23. After a long application process, I had been accepted into the Peace Corps to go to West Africa (Mali) to teach people about forestry: planting gardens and such. I had absolutely not one minute of experience in this field, but still wanted to go for the experience. My mom, doing the job of being a mother, let me know she questioned if I could and should do this. While I saw her as discouraging me from a dream, she saw it as being a mother bear and protecting her young from what could have been a stressful and miserable two year commitment. In the end, I didn’t go. I’ll never know if this was the “right” choice or not. It was just the road not taken. But, seriously, can you imagine me planting fields in Mali? At least I could do some serious fertilizing!

The second time this happened, was just a few months ago, and you will remember it well if you’ve been reading this blog for awhile. I got a stress fracture in my hip in October 2010. My doctor, a competitive runner, knew I had registered for the Boston Marathon for April of 2011. He supported me recovering and coming back to run the race. I started physical therapy in January with a therapist I had never met before. Within five minutes of meeting me, she told me “Running Boston is not a good idea, I don’t see it happening.”

I was devastated, pissed, destroyed (read HERE). Yet, I also knew she was doing her job, which was to protect her patients and to move them towards recovery in the best way possible. Running a marathon did not fit into her treatment plan. As I began to recover and regain my strength, I eventually got her blessing. Four months later, I ran the Boston Marathon in 4:08. Not my fastest showing, but the one I am most proud of.

Look, Ma! No crutches!

Another reason someone might tell you can’t do something is jealousy. A supposed good friend might feel threatened when you say you want to train for your first marathon, and therefore tell you “I don’t think you can do that. It’s too hard on your body, too much of a time investment, etc.” When she really means, “I couldn’t do that, and if you do I fear I will appear weaker or less than you.”

Then there are just mean people who say you can’t do it because they hate their own miserable lives and don’t want to see anyone else succeed. Or, they just plain like looking down on people and feeling superior.

For me, the lesson in all of this is to dream big, but keep your feet on the ground. Take feedback from people you love, and try to decipher their intentions. Remember people may be trying to protect you, but you need to protect your dream. Above all, “If you want something, go get it.” Don’t be talked out of it.

Have you ever been told you couldn’t/shouldn’t do something you dreamed of? How did you react?

SUAR

Up Close and Personal (video)

My first video message to you:

I have missed my calling. I think I should have my own talk show televised from the stairs of my house. It could be called "Live with Beth and Tripod."

There is something about taking charge, putting yourself in the driver's seat of your life, that makes you feel empowered. We've all been in that spot where we believe we are victims of our circumstances. We think, "Oh well, it will never get better than this. This crap I call my life is just my fate."

Wrong. But you have to be the right place for change and forward movement.

Now, let's apply this to me, because it is all about me, and my life is just that fascinating.

Eight weeks, five days, ten hours and 13 minutes ago I incurred a stress fracture in my cuboid bone. Never heard of the cuboid bone? Me neither. I don't think it's really a bone. Anyway, this has been my "story" for the past 2 months. I made it who I was. The girl who loves to run and couldn't run the race she'd been training for.

I read something yesterday that put things into perspective:

Events reveal people's characters; they don't determine them. If two people are hit by a bus and crippled for life, one will become a bitter shut-in; the other, the kind of warm, outgoing person whom everyone loves to be with. It's not about the bus. You have the chance to be the person you wish to be, until you die.

Are you a bitter shut-in?

Maybe I'll write a book called, "It's Not About the Bus."

And now I've GOT A PLAN.

Although I can't really start any "real" sort of running for a few more weeks, my goal is to do the Colorado Marathon on May 9. Working backwards from this date, I've come up with what my training will look like going forward (you can tell I am totally following the ten percent rule this time. I am going to worship this rule like my own personal Jesus, especially if it keeps me from injury). I hope to be an example of someone who started out really small (walk 2 mins, run 3 mins), and got really big (marathon).

Week one:
walk 2, run 3
walk 2, run 3
walk 1, run 4

Week two:
walk 1, run 4
run 20 mins @9 min/mile pace
run 20 mins @9 min/mile pace

Week three:
run 20 mins @9 min/mile pace
run 22 mins@9 min/mile pace
run 22 mins @9 min/mile pace

Week four:
run 22 mins @9 min/mile pace
run 25 mins @9 min/mile pace
run 25 mins @9 min/mile pace
run 25 mins @9 min/mile pace

Week five:
run 27 mins @9 min/mile pace
run 27 mins @9 min/mile pace
run 27 mins @9 min/mile pace
run 30 mins @9 min/mile pace

Week six:
run 30 mins @9 min/mile pace
run 30 mins @9 min/mile pace

From here I'll move onto a 14 week marathon training plan. Then I can work on increasing speed and getting back to where I was pre-injury. And by May 9, 2010, hopefully I'll be back to this:

Me running a race with my dress flowing in the wind. My kids cheering me on. The Rocky Mountains as my back drop. An iPod growing out of my left tit. My fists balled into sweating lumps. Photos stolen from Brightroom.

Yes, my plan looks kind of boring. Yes, it is very slow going. I am not a patient person. I don't do things gradually. But I have no choice.

What are you trying to be patient about today?

Marathon Toe

I call it my marathon toe. It's my badge of honor, my battle wound. My proof that I did something big, and that it hurt. And my feet are ugly, aren't they? You can say it or think it. I know it's true. It's no wonder that long, finger-like second toe took it the hardest. That thing is obscene.

It's almost two weeks later and I've skill got this mark of pride. If my nail falls off, I just might frame it in a shadow box. I did it. I did it.

My journey started in September 2008. A little card arrived in the mail talking about joining something called Team in Training. The weather was beautiful in Colorado and I enjoyed running. Maybe I could run a 1/2 marathon by January. Just maybe. At the informational meeting I learned three things: 1) everyone there thought I should train for a full marathon, screw this half business 2) in exchange for training me and paying my way to the marathon, I'd have to raise (gasp!) $3,900 for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society 3) I'd be expected to train at 7:00 a.m. every Saturday morning for the next 17 weeks to prep for the marathon.

I thought long and hard. Well, not really. I just signed up. I could get out of it if I wanted, right? I mean I had never run more than a 10K and my fastest time at that was 54 minutes. I was no long distance runner and I was no speed demon. Who was I kidding.

But by that first training I was hooked.

And four months later I ran my first marathon - the Rock and Roll in Phoenix - with a time of 4:03. Immediately after the marathon I was bummed - couldn't I have squeezed in under 4 hours? Wouldn't any self respecting marathoner be able to do that? My hubby reminded me that my bar was set too high. Some of the only people I've know who have run marathons are maniacs and have finished sub-3 1/2 hours. I learned that is not the norm, and that my time was actually - well - a very good time for a first time out.

I was on a high. Quicker than I could stop doing the marathon shuffle (i.e., shuffling through the Phoenix airport, legs hurting, blister oozing, proudly wearing my medal - yes I wore it to the airport and on the plane - the flight attendant asked me if I had won the race - duh!) anyway, before the pus dried, I was setting my sites on the next marathon. Apparently not everyone likes to run long distances and make themselves susceptible to pain, blisters, blue toenails, diarrhea, cramps and dehydration, but I DO! And in the back of my mind I heard that subtle whisper - "If you did 4:03, you could certainly shave off 12 minutes and do 3:50:59 to qualify for Boston." Yes, you could.

So here is my aspiration. To keep training, to keep the runner's high going, to complete another marathon and to (hopefully) qualify for the grand daddy of them all - Boston 2010.

Won't you join me on this journey?

In the weeks leading up the marathon I gained so much inspiration from reading stories of first time marathoners, elite racers, anyone who had a marathon goal and met it somehow. I got transfixed (okay, obsessed) by the emotional/mental/spiritual component of reaching this goal. At some point your M/E/S state has to be strong and in tact in order to get to the finish line. I learned that the meditative quality of running and the space and time that running allowed me made me calmer, more able to manage my kids, my work. I slept better, my stomach felt better. My stress was less. In essence, running made my life better and me happier.

And I hope it has done that for you too. Stay tuned as I continue to experience the highs and lows of training. And work towards a goal that may or may not be reachable. But didn't someone important once say that it's not the destination line but the journey there that counts?