Phantom Smells, Snot Rockets and Your Garden Variety Loogies: The Ugly Underbelly of the Runner’s World

This one’s for you Jo Ruby!

There is a (mostly) unspoken ugly underbelly I have uncovered in the world of running. This discovery was one I first came across in (you guessed it)…the running class at the Y. Until then, I had no revelations or even preconceived ideas about the general hygiene of runners on the road. I presumed runners; with their gazelle like strides, confident solo agendas of personal achievement and their perfectly coordinated colorful outfits were the enlightened ones of the sporting world. Think about it…only relying on their bodies and mental stamina to reach their goals…with each new accomplishment serving as some kind of vision quest toward the path of fulfillment...it’s like they are the Tibetan monks of sports. I mean really…you talk to a runner and they act as if they will actually shrivel up if they don’t get their run in to clear their head. Why so cloudy?  Well, that’s another topic.

Anyway, back to my point…I had always looked at them like they must know something I don’t know because I just didn’t get it. I didn’t get the NEED to run (without being chased). They were, in fact, the most Zen of the athletic world (well…not if you count Yoga as a sport…but you get it). All of this was how I saw it until one day at running class when Jo, the running coach, pulled out a book of “Runner’s Rules” and gave us the ins and outs of the proper technique required in performing a “farmer blow” or “snot rocket,” the etiquette of the toot (which we had actually covered before in a previous class) and the ever important ability to avoid getting hit by a stray loogie (if you don’t know what that is, I’m sorry, I’m not explaining it to you). What’s this? Runners are….gross?!? Shock. Really? Well, it was good comic relief but I’m sure most runners are not that gross I tell myself and we go about the business of running like mad for a good hour session.

THEN…

I go on a run….outside with other zenlike running types.

I start my run feeling great. I have drank water 45 minutes ago to hydrate. I have eaten one egg white…scrambled to perfection and one half of a luna bar over an hour ago. Well done! I have gone to the bathroom – twice…nice. I have dressed for the brisk Montana spring weather...in, I must say, a perfectly coordinated colorful outfit. I am prepared. Bring on the Zen.

It was around mile 3 I believe…it’s painful to recall. I was just coming from the aid station and feeling refreshed from my drink. On my way…through the trees of the park…winding and pounding the dirt trail…enjoying the fresh air and thinking about my final 2 miles ahead. Then, out of nowhere, it happened like a flash. I’m hit! I’m hit! Was that a rain drop? A fresh dew drop from the trees above? Not a bug? What the…oh my god. No…not me. Not on my zenlike run. Not… no…ewwwwwwwwww!

But it was. IT happened to me. And if you are a runner…it can happen to you too. Being the victim of someone’s careless disregard to the very important and yes…I may say…sacred instructions of how to properly perform the farmer blow (or for that matter…how to let a loogie fly or releasing a stinky toot) while running with others is something I may not ever fully recover from. I am speaking out today so that you may guard yourself against this probability in your future and to punctuate the importance of arming yourself with the knowledge of how to fully embrace being gross in proper form (because I’d be willing to bet none of us can say the need never arises) so that others will not suffer the same fate that I fell victim to. Please…do it for the sanctity of the image of zenlike runners everywhere and if not for that…then for god’s sake man…do it for the person behind you.

After I wrote my last post, I wondered more and more about Hannah and her past. I wanted to know how she came to live at the Youth Homes. I wondered about her mother…about her many placements. Since I used to work at the Youth Homes I contacted Hannah’s therapist and asked her for any information she could give me without violating any Hipaa medical regulations. I obviously cannot and certainly would not put any details of her past in this blog but the information that I received gave me a more accurate picture of the kinds of issues that Hannah deals with each day. Even though I have worked most of my adult life in non-profit and even spent a few years working directly with kids in a group home, I wasn’t prepared for her history. I guess I forgot how difficult these cases can be. Hannah was no exception. She has suffered a tremendous amount in her young life and that’s about all I can say without compromising her privacy. I was blown apart. And it made me even more dedicated to doing my best with this commitment. I hope you will see that importance of the work the Youth Homes does for our area. I hope if you don’t live here you can seek out a non-profit that does similar work and support their efforts. If we don’t rally around these kids…they will become isolated and angry adults suffering from much and little hope for change.


Hannah’s staff wrote this about her birthday:


Today is Hannah’s 14th birthday. She has been counting down the days for months, and has made it clear that she has high expectations. Hannah wanted yellow, blue, and green decorations, a chocolate and marble layered cake, grilled cheese and homemade tomato soup for dinner, and the new Justin Bieber CD (among several other requests). I’m happy to say that here at Talbot; we try to fulfill as many birthday requests as possible. She got her blue and green decorations, she was able to make her cake (it was important to her that she make it herself), and her dinner was made. She may have to get in another cardio this week however, the food was delicious and filling!! She even received a nice gift from "Kim the Reluctant Runner" which made her scream with delight! (Actually there was high decibel energy all night with girly squeals and giggles! - a nice break from "therapy" and focusing on all the tough issues in her life...tonight was HER night to bask in the celebration!!) Hannah was surrounded by many people who care about her. Unfortunately, like with many residents, Hannah didn’t have any family members here to celebrate. It seemed as though this didn’t bother her too much, and hopefully this is because we were able to show her that she is surrounded by people who care and will be there for her. She got all the gifts she asked for and was surprised with a concert at the University to end her special day. Hannah was full of positive energy throughout the day, and had a hard time harnessing it. She was thankful of all the people who shared her day and is already counting down for next year, the big 15. 364 days...

Milestones

Today is Hannah’s birthday. I thought of her as soon as I woke up.  Then I started to get ready for my five mile run. From now on each Sunday will be a new distance that I have never done before. Every Sunday I will wake up, put on my running clothes, kiss my kids, get a hug from my husband, grab my IPOD and pray I did a good morning routine so that the new “longest distance I’ve ever ran before” goes as smoothly as possible. For some reason, today I was nervous. Don’t really know why but I had a nervous stomach and those surges of energy that come out of nowhere reminding you that something big is coming. So today was five miles and Hannah’s birthday and all I could do was give it my best.

As I entered the room where the training group meets, the speaker of the day was already talking. She was a physical therapist and she was showing us appropriate exercises and stretches to keep “endurance” athletes healthy. It was informative and good information but I just keep thinking about the five miles ahead. When it was time to start I thought of Hannah again. “Happy Birthday kid…this is for you.” Fourteen years old. Fourteen years young. What was I doing at fourteen? Life wasn’t perfect for me at that age. It’s a ridiculous age. It’s hard. You worry about boys, zits and geometry. But it’s also a coming of age…you start to really define who you are. What you believe in…what you want to be…who you want to be like.

At mile one and a half I was thinking…I can do this. I know the hill is coming but I’ve done it before…just one foot and then the other. A perfect slow but steady song came on the IPOD…people were passing me…but I was steady. Climbing…

Hannah must have been at a lot of different schools. I don’t know much about the details of her life but I know she’s been in a lot of different placements…group homes, foster parents, others? I wonder how she does adjusting to new schools, teachers and friends. When I was her age I temporarily moved back to Pittsburgh with my mother. I tried the new high school for a week but then I could hack it…I missed my friends and my life in Montana. I moved back with my Dad. One new school and I couldn’t do it. But then again, I had a choice...a hard one but I could make it. I know Hannah doesn’t really have that choice right now.

I made it up the hill…I saw some others that had passed me were walking now. I slowly moved passed them and headed up Duncan Drive. I followed the herd expanding far ahead of me...must be a mile ahead before we turn. I remember thinking…gawd that looks like forever…maybe the five milers turn somewhere sooner.

I wonder where Hannah’s mother is today. She must be thinking of Hannah. I don’t know if they are in touch…if they still talk. If Hannah even knows her. I wonder if I’ll find that out. Anyway, I start to think about her. She could be about my age. She carried her for nine months. She loved her and she loves her still. I don’t need to know the details to know that. Geoff Birnbaum, the Executive Director of Youth Homes (my old boss) used to say to me, “people don’t wake up in the morning and say to themselves…how can I hurt my kid today.” It’s a more complicated problem than that. It’s easy to place blame if you don’t take a closer look.  When you really stop to think about anyone else's troubles it’s easier to understand their situation the more you learn about it. Bottomline…humans are a complicated mess with outstanding potential…everyone of us.

I managed to make it to the turn…and then found the aid station. I took a quick drink of water and I was off through the woods at the edge of the park. Running through the park was the best part. No one passed me…it was as if I was alone on the dirt trail with the trees surrounding me and glimpses of the creek. I smelled Montana air. There were no distractions. No reminders that I had a long way to go. My legs were heavy but I was halfway now and breathing fine.

Hannah probably isn’t even awake yet. It’s only a little past 9am but wait...she did say she was an early riser and she was so excited for her birthday…counting down the days. What is it like to have a birthday at a new place with new staff…new kids…strangers really...celebrating your birthday with you? Hannah is unfortunately probably used to it. I know she has family in Montana and I know she will probably get a visit or call from her last foster family but I wondered what it would be like for her. Would she be disappointed? Or would she be thrilled to have gifts and a cake and people singing to her? I hope she likes the gift I got her. It’s nothing big but I wanted her to know I was thinking of her today. What’s it like getting gifts from a stranger? I only met her the one time.

On my way to mile four I pass my friends (AKA - the saints – if you don’t get this reference it’s from a previous post) house. Of course they were waiting for me to pass and stepped out on their porch to cheer me on. I look at their house dreamily. They are in their pjs and probably just getting finished with a fresh batch of homemade pancakes with real maple syrup. Ahhh….maybe I could just….just keep going. And I smile and wave and move down the street.

I wonder what will happen to Hannah next. She’s only fourteen….today. That’s four more years until graduation. And then past that will she have support? I know I leaned on my parents for years after my eighteenth birthday. I still rely on them. Who will Hannah have? She must have someone…right? Right now, she has the Youth Homes. She has a place to call home today. A place where they are probably right now waking her up to a good breakfast and planning out her big day. She’ll be sung to and she will get some gifts. She’ll get a special dinner and be tucked in tonight. Someone will give her a hug today. Someone will say, “Happy Birthday Hannah.”

I just have under a mile to go. I just got passed by another runner. She looks great…strong. She inspires me to go a little bit faster…to feel my legs and make each stride count. I think back to when I ran with Hannah and she sped up at the finish. She hurdled over a fence with excitement. I can see the finish now. I can feel good that I did something hard that I’ve never done before…again. And I did it for Hannah…on her birthday.

I hope she will get a call or a card or something from her mother. I hope she will have a moment to feel loved and wanted in this world. I hope she will feel the warmth of this place…this community…I hope she will know someone cares…she might even think to herself, “someone is out there this morning running when it’s hard for them because I’m important and I’m valued and I’m cared for.” But if that’s too much to expect…as I suspect it is...then I just hope with all my heart that she has had a very special birthday feeling supported by those around her…and that she gets that crazy “New Moon” movie on DVD she’s been wanting.

A Slightly Nutty Conversation Between My Gut and Myself about Moving My Feet…faster

The scene: YMCA indoor track – 1 highly energetic running instructor, 10-12 women, 1 local weatherman (just an interesting fact, not really prevalent to the story) for speed work running class
The task: 8 laps, 16 laps, 8 laps, 8 laps at a 10K pace (walk a few in between to rest)

MY GUT: You can do this. It’s not that big of a deal…lots of people do this. All the time, you see them passing you by with those highly self-actualized smiles on their faces. One foot in front of the other. Why do you care that you’ve never been a runner before…so what if it’s a completely foreign land…you are doing it now. You’ve been doing it for weeks now.

MYSELF: Crap, I’m out of breath already. My lips are dry. My side aches. My legs feel like a damn elephants for God’s sake. Thud Thud…Thud Thud. I’m what they call a “heavier foot” runner…I think it’s code for “doesn’t quite lift the legs while running. Maybe I should slow down.

MY GUT: Seriously dude…your pain is not unique. Many others have tried this and actually…gasp…lived. You can too.

MYSELF: Yeah, but maybe I’m just not really built for this. I mean…I’m all cricketity (shut up…yes it IS a word). Did you hear the riDONKculous (another totally valid word) sound my knees made when I got up off the floor…I thought the load bearing wall was giving way.

MY GUT: You’re impossible. It’s not just about you…it’s about them too. Your kids…and Hannah…remember? Get out of your head...think about their faces once they see you finish at the half-marathon. It’s about doing something hard to show them hard can be done. Hard makes it all worth it. Hard will make you stronger. Be stronger. Be more daring.

Myself: More daring? Stronger? You self-righteous piece of mush in my so called mid-region…I did deliver three children in the last 6 years. I don’t see you bouncing back from that. Good bye bikini forever. Thank you very little.

MY GUT: First of all…let’s remember I’m just a representation of your will and not your actual mid-region. Come on…first the right…now the left…

Myself: Oh crap, I still have 8 more laps to go and I almost fainted after only shaving off 3 seconds from my mile time trial. Man. Oh, there’s Jo. Do NOT make eye contact with runner instructor…do NOT make eye contact with...

TO INSTRUCTOR: “Oh hey Jo! Yes, I did run last Sunday…4 miles…yeah it blew because of a side ache…but it’s getting better. Yup, I’ve got 8 more laps to go. My last 8 were kinda slow…oh, what’s that? You want me to go faster now? Okay. Got it. You bet.”

Myself: NOOoooo problem (insert sarcasm here). And we are going again…you idiot…why the need to admit the slowness? And of course omit the throat full of desert sand and legs stuck in peanut butter kinda sensations? Rookie mistake…never again.

MY GUT: Hey look…you’re still doing it! One more song on the IPOD and then you’re done.

1 ½ songs on the IPOD later…and…Done.

Myself: MUST GET WATER.

Jo: Hey Kim, you’re getting the big “A” today.

Me to Jo: (Kim looking at Jo as if she is suspect) Whatdaya mean “A”?

Jo: For Adjustment. Your were faster this week. We're adjusting your times. Yeah!

Others (who so obviously also drink the kool-aid too) in the background: Oh Yeah! Good job! Adjustment!

Myself: What in THE hell did you do? Crap.

MY GUT (always with the last word): Be proud of your elephant like heavy footedness! You stomped your way into improvement! Time to give a highly self-actualized smile…now go stretch before your hamstring breaks in two.

Meeting Hannah

Last Friday I got to meet Hannah. We went on a run. She will be fourteen in seven days. I believe it was the very first thing out of her mouth. She was infectious, energetic and full of teenage ridiculousness. She wasn’t shy…for some reason I expected her to be. She was (very obviously) putting her best foot forward. She knew I was running the half marathon in her honor and she was honored. It was all over her face. She wanted to run the best she could.

She needed to stop just a few times (and at her pace I was fine with that after all I’m just getting going too). She got a side cramp. She told me she was ready and we were running again. She slowed down when it was icy. She sped up when we hit the sunshine. She talked about a blister. She made me laugh. She made me ache. She wants to get "New Moon" on DVD. She reminds me of my nieces.  She loves dogs and really doesn’t care much one way or another about cats. She is cautious. She just got new shoes. She hates to babysit. She loves Jessica’s dog. She smiles for the camera. She has lived in lots of different homes.  She thinks Tim is funny. She admires the other girl living with her at the group home for running the whole distance. She sees the finish. She sprints at the end and hurdles a fence. She is something to watch. She smiles. She melts into the bench to rest. She jokes. She says goodbye. She waves goodbye. She watches me as they leave.

She is Hannah and now I know her. Now it’s personal.

(Hannah is the name I call her by in this blog to protect her identity)

Getting Zen with a Side Ache

Patience is something we practice at our house on a minute by minute basis. Right now, as I type, my four year old is screaming on the couch because she is upset about naptime (among other things) and is hoping her tears will magically unlock a parental door to that unattainable fairyland where all wishes come true the very moment you dream them into existence. It isn’t that different from my impatience with (among other things) my lack of experience with this running gig.

FACT: At some point in your journey to the runner’s high (aka “fairyland where all wishes come true the moment you dream them” it stinks to be a runner past a certain window of youthful ambivalence to body ache and pain.

Which brings me to the topic of today’s post…the side ache or “stitch.” Now I know that people of all ages get these little sons of bitches at some point or another in their running regimes but I also know that the inexperienced runner (the shallow breather, the older than most that start the pursuit of running from scratch and the more impatience among us) is more prone to this pitiful condition. Needless to say, the side ache was the bane of my four mile run this morning.

It went like this:

Group run starts fine minus almost getting hit by SUV minutes after being reminded by a police officer in our training class on the rule of safety. Rule #1 – Car always wins. About ½ mile into the run, side ache begins. I attempt to breathe more deeply…but of course my old friend common sense instinctively reminds me in its sarcastic tone, “Wow, Kim…you really think you can breathe more deeply while gasping for air at the same time?” So I try to slow down without affecting the time/space continuum…I mean sometimes I do fear if I slow down any more I could actually be in reverse. So then I give in to the idea of walking a few paces just to get my breathing in order and get passed by a running classmate from the Y. Sigh. Run again. Get to campus drive...ache not gone…walk again for a few steps…get passed by yet another running classmate from the Y (there are only about 12 of us…I mean, really…the odds). Not that I mind getting passed by my Y classmates…after all if you read the preceeding post they are inspiring and so on but do the two that attend these training group runs actually have to catch me walking…totally stunk. Then I decide to try the mental strength thing…you know that Jedi mind trick crap that people refer to as “mental toughness” or “heart” like that  Rudy kid from Notre Dame. Anyway, the point is…I push through. I start running again. It got a little better. Then some nice women that run at my pace caught up to me and I had a distraction. They talked and I listened. It was great. I could see the light at the end. I actually (still with ache in side) enjoyed myself (especially when I saw my car). I made it. Four miles.

At home I looked up how to get rid of a side ache while running…I got everything from drink more water to breathe deeply (yup) to a complicated rhythmic breathing while putting down the opposite foot of the side that aches on the exhale type coordinated effort (if you followed that…I applaud you). My main lesson learned was I will not fail if I keep moving forward even with an ache. And if I’m really getting good at the patience thing I will be able to avoid a tantrum in the middle of the street and actually enjoy the journey to the finish. Good stuff.

What Van Gogh Taught Me

Great things are not done by impulse, but by a series of small things brought together.
                                                                                               -Vincent Van Gogh

I am an artist. I have been since I can remember.  I won a contest when I was in the second grade.  It was a big deal at the private school in Pittsburgh that I was sent to because my mom taught there and we could go for free.  It was a pretty impressive school with an impressive name...the kind where all the students (only girls) wore plaid uniforms and took ballet lessons and learned greek at age 12.  My German born art teacher had lots of resources in her art room and I got the bug early.  It must have been something about that environment that gave me the confidence to actually truly believe at age 7, I was as good as any artist in the museums.  I was told, "Kim, you a a gifted artist" over and over again and I believed it.  As I grew up, I started to doubt it but I still sketched, painted, collaged and never put down the brush.  It was my thing.  I owned it.  Even though I knew better now when I visited the museums that the artists represented on the walls were far more gifted, I still counted myself among them.  They were my people.  I was inspired by them, not intimidated...inspired.  I fully accepted by my 20s that I would never be an artist in museums in New York City.  I even decided against art school for a more traditional degree.  I still painted.  It was still my thing.  They were still my people.  In my 30s, I started a family, had a career in non-profit and had my very first art show.  I was nervous but it always felt like a fit.  I never felt new to it...which leads me to today.

Today, I felt new to something and got that fish out of water feeling you kinda dread.  New to a completely foreign land...a land of sporting competition.  I wasn't joking when I said I have never really exercised...it was not my thing.  Sure, I rode a bike, took hikes, played in the Montana outdoors but I never was in a competitive sport, never ran a mile, and never really thought exercise was for me.  But today, in running class we had a relay race.  Four teams of three people.  Each team running 100 laps as fast as they could get them done.  I was paired with the fastest in the class to make it fair.  I also ran the least amount of laps.  We also still took third place.  Now while it was all for fun and no hard feelings...it left me a bit down on myself until I remembered those famous artists that inspired me without any thought that I didn't belong among them. 

So why was this different?  The answer is...it isnt different.  I thought back on class today and remembered...I showed up again.  I am completely committed and I am doing my best.  I also am surrounded by a great group of people that have been at this for years and I have been at this for 2 months.   So just like those artists in the museums...I am now inspired by the more advanced runners around me and furthermore...I believe I belong to this group.

A perspective from a Youth Homes foster parent

This comment was posted by a Youth Homes foster parent on the Mamalode site regarding the article I wrote about the Run 4 Kids Team.  I thought I'd share it with you just to give a bit more info about what YHI does for kids in need and our community members in Western, MT. Remember to donate if you can (visit the firstgiving site I have listed on the left) to help support YHI so more of these situations can happen.  Also, see the you tube video that shows a 9 minute documentary about the Youth Homes foster parents.  Its the last video on the You Tube video bar to the bottom left)
Thanks! -K

Kim,

I know the reluctant-to-buy-sneakers-for-fear-of-using-them feeling, the kind that stops me from listening through headphones, wearing my hair in a ponytail, and going to places where runners go. I might be persuaded to use my legs more. After reading your story and a pep talk with my hips I feel closer to the brink of “sign me up!” Your words are motivational and true. Youth Homes, the staff and kids have changed my life dramatically. I have seen the effects of our community wrapping around a child. In 2009 I was matched with a Youth Homes kiddo. Just tonight, while making her first batch of waffles, she said, “I’m really thankful for you.” I didn’t have to hear it to know it; she shows me everyday. I am thankful for her too. With the guidance from Youth Homes (Go Julie!) and permission to relate the best we can she and I have a special, safe relationship. We, the community, do make an incredibly positive difference in the lives of youth. By running, donating, parenting and more we show them how to be part of and feel proud of this amazing Missoula. We eventually get to run with them. That said, if our family of three isn’t in the race, we’ll at least be on the sidelines cheering on the YHI Race 4 Kids team.


That deserves a high-5!
- Lindsey

Add it Up

Yesterday's news: Husband called to let me know he missed his flight home...he would be delayed two more days.

My night's sleep: Awake at 11 pm, then 3:30am then again at 4:45 with the baby.

This morning in Florence, MT:  Kids up at 6:30am 
Baby bag - Check
Shoes - Check
Changes of clothes - Check
IPOD - Check
Check mirror...eww...bring hat. Check.
Out the door at 6:55 am

Arrival at friends house that offered to babysit kids at 7:30 am (after the eve of Daylight Savings) AKA the "saint's" house - no lights on, no one awake...hmmm.
Wait in car with DVD for kids until said saints awaken and realize it was Daylight Savings time.
Saint awakes just as I was plotting breaking into the house without disturbing their 4 sleeping children or being attacked by saint's new dog.
Three children dropped off - Check 
(Quick math: 4 + 3 = 7 children at saint's house)

Drive to Runner's Edge - find premium parking spot that will allow me to cut 1/10th of mile off running distance today - Check!

Listen to Anders (coach) talk while wondering if I can avoid the need to use the porta potty.

8:28 am - Start running the longest distance I have ever run in my life at a "relaxed" pace.  Try not to notice all the runners passing me, including the ones so clearly cheating by having their dogs pull them down the street.  Pass Tim (coach's Daddy)...one mile done.  Pass another guy who points me UP A HUGE FRICKEN' HILL and manage to make up said hill.   Back down hill and back through park.  Try not to look too overly beaten down as I pass all the advanced runners as they begin their miles.

9:01 am - Arrive at car.  3 miles done.  Remember it was just 2 months ago I struggled running 5 minutes...take a second to smile. 

11:17 am - 1 missing husband, 1 snorning beagle, 1 sleeping baby, 2 kids plugged into TV
Catnap on couch...with 85 pound lab who apparently missed me so much this morning he felt the need to cuddle my head.  Sigh.

I believe all this means...I AM RUNNER!

And I'd just like to say...it is extremely encouraging to be running with the beginners (and even some of you advanced people) in the half and full marathon training group...it was such a great sight to see all of us bustin' it up that stupid hill.  Inspiring.

INVINCIBLE

 

You know when you look around your house and wish you had the magical powers of Samantha from Bewitched you’re going to have a long day. You know those days…for me it looks like this; the husband is on a business trip in a balmy 75 degree climate, library books are due, the garbage needs to go out, the house is a disaster, the kids have engaged in some contest to see who can make me say, “Mommy’s gonna lose it” fastest AND to top it all off… it is this particular day that my beloved elderly beagle decided to release all the valves that hold her together on my “save the planet” “made from corn” (supposedly stain resistant) carpet. And the kicker is, it is this week, that I need to attempt my very first 5K run (well…its 3 miles but close enough).

So, therefore… the theme of today’s post is going to have to be…dan danna da…“feeling INVINCIBLE” against the odds. It reminds me of the time my six year old ran around the house feeling invincible courtesy of his superhero strength (fueled by a cape made from his baby brother’s blankie.) He’d run around the staircase, through the living room and back into the kitchen, shouting, “bet you didn’t see me cuz I’m SO fast with my cape!” I absolutely loved seeing him that confident…that empowered like there was nothing that could stop him because he had on that cape. 

It was a good reminder of the kind of gumption I needed to muster to get through this week. Today, I headed back to my running class at the Y that I started last week. Early this morning, I was strongly against the notion of running at all, let alone, running with intent to move quickly. But, committed to the process and thinking of my motivation of Hannah (the girl I'm running the half in honor of currently living at the Youth Homes), I got myself dressed in the proper uniform and managed to get there with two of my three kids in tow.

First threat decimated…KA POW!

Now onto my second challenge…self doubt. Can I really do this damn class? What am I thinking doing speed work when I just started running anyway. Seriously, it’s a big enough deal to just keep moving…why the need to push it? I mean come ON! But I go in…the others in the class have made eye contact now…no going back. And we start our insane assignment for this particular week. Run 12 laps at a 5K pace (say wha?) THEN go FASTER for the next 8 laps, then faster for the next 6 and so on until you fall over. Okay, maybe she didn’t say until you “fall over” but you’re picking up what I’m laying down right? Anyway, even though I still have to master the art of pacing myself to avoid the notion of an accidental upchuck, I ran faster than expected. I beat my times for the most part and I feel pretty darn good for finishing the workout at all.

Second threat obliterated…WHAM-O!

Now to conquer an even more relentless and determined foe…naptime. It seems an impossible task getting both 8 month old and big sister to sleep at the same time without an outburst of sneezing and reflux from the afore mentioned beagle but the stars align and

SHA-ZAM! Sleeping children…foe successfully wiped out ( haha…get it…”wiped out”…yeah, I'm sorry)

Anyway, this Sunday I will attempt my 3 mile run with the Marathon training group and then next week, we will be doing a “St. Patrick’s Day Relay” in my running class (notice how my instructor Jo tries to make it warm and fuzzy by adding the happy go luckiest of holidays to the name)…but I know better…you can’t fool me…evil never rests.

Meanwhile…I could use a cape.

Hannah also was up against the odds this week facing a big challenge for her and feeling a bit "capeless."  Jessica, a youth care worker and Hannah's primary staff from Youth Homes Inc. writes this update about Hannah this week: 

Hannah has been "working on" a science fair project for at least the past two months. (When it is something you really don't like...or is challenging, the words "working on" are deceptive!! Kind of like "working out"...when it's challenging it's easy to to fudge a little.)

We have been doing our best to offer our help with each step, but unfortunately Hannah hasn’t accepted it or has claimed that it was already handed in. Hannah tends to skip homework instead of asking questions, spends a lot of time on easier assignments, and for the most part daydreams during her study time. The night before the science fair, we noticed that she had not put any effort into her project. When she was confronted on her progress, she immediately became victimized and shut down because it was too hard. She had already “completed” her study hour as well, so the thought of doing extra work seemed to be quite upsetting. As we asked her questions about her experiment, she was completely confused on how to make sense of the information she did have. Hannah was given attention and assistance from us to essentially re-do her project. We went back and asked questions in order to help guide her back through her experiment. As she started talking in detail about what she had done, she began to explain all the missing work on the project. Hannah began to realize that she wasn’t confused; she just wasn’t putting in the effort. We spent two hours with her, after her bedtime, to complete this project. In the end, it turned out great and Hannah was extremely appreciative of our help. Sometimes all it takes is patience, nurturance, more patience and someone willing to keep nudging.

This experience is important to share because Hannah has a very difficult time trusting caregivers. As we've mentioned before, it’s not surprising that Hannah is skeptical of us offering to help. She may not have had an adult caregiver spend so much time with her making sure she was successful in the past. As irritated as she was, we may have started to prove to her that we will be there for her even if she makes a mistake. Like most parents, we could not set her up to fail, so we pressed through as a group until it was completed well. We attended Hannah’s science fair and she seemed so proud! Hopefully in the future she will reflect on this and choose to do things differently.

Can success breed success? We are counting on it...

Going “Public” (well…in person anyway)

Yesterday the blog made the paper (that other people read). This morning I joined a running class (with other people). On Sunday, I’ll be in a crowded room (with lots of other people - see pic of Run Wild training classmates to the left) starting a half marathon training program. Lots of people, all around, in person…witnesses.
It’s a big step for me; after all, the last time I publically did anything in the form of group athletics (not counting beer pong, my college coed softball team aptly named "The Leftovers", horseshoes or volleyball...no offense to serious volleyball players) was when I joined the fifth grade basketball team. We were the mighty Tigers…not one win all season. I can still hear my coach trying to explain to me the concept of moving AND dribbling at the same time. Anyway, my point is this is all still so very new and now I have witnesses in this endeavor. People that can actually see me…gasp…struggle.

To my surprise, it’s exactly what I needed. And to my delight, the people in my running class seem to be actually quite normal and nice. In fact, as I entered (already sweaty with anticipation and having come from my second trip to the bathroom in 7 minutes) my instructor was explaining some kind of crazy candy run she was making her husband endure for her. Didn’t get the details but I’m pretty sure I could relate. Then down to business…she started talking about a bus to Bloomsday in Spokane, other tidbits on running etiquette she found from Runner’s World magazine relating to how to fart properly during a race (always good to know) and then onto the strange new language I couldn’t yet follow; group 1 do a 400, 600, 800, 1200 then down again and group 2 do blah blah blah…hun? And then wrapped up the briefing with “Kim, I’ve got something special for you to do.” A time trial. Yikes. Never, except for maybe those “field days” in elementary school, can I remember having to perform a mile to see my time…my time.

Nervous again…16 times around the track…only a mile but this time it was with witnesses... and worse yet, someone that expected to know my time. I began fine but right about the fifth lap I started to remember I’m a beginner. I moved slow and steady. People were flying by me. I knew I was slow but…wow. I put it out of my mind and just kept going. Lisa, my friend, passed me saying, “Go Kim Go” and that helped me gain my second burst of energy. I went a little faster and then I was done. Whew. One mile in 9 minutes and 57 seconds. I immediately doubt my time…I must of missed a lap. But then I do another 8 laps and then another 8 and my time probably puts me about at 11 minute miles…respectable...I am satisfied for now. What I found out today was big…witnesses actually HELP. No one really does it alone even if it’s up to you how you get it done.

Next week Jo, my instructor, tells me I will have to do as much as the others in the group. And I think to myself I might just actually survive. And if I don’t…I will have witnesses to call for help.

A Push or Two

My child smells like cheese, I smell like a sweaty wreck and you don’t want to know what my elderly beagle smells like. But I still can be proud of the whole stinky lot of us because we all took to the streets with an important tool…the jogging stroller. Well, I don’t know if mine is really an official jogging stroller but it moves forward when you push it which is why I started thinking about what exactly is pushing me. Not to mention the fact that I would like more of it please. Not more motivation but more momentum. And even though some people tend to use these terms, kind of interchangeable, I found the difference between them to be exactly my problem as of late. There is a difference…I looked it up.

Motivation is “the activation or energization of goal-oriented behavior.” So in my case…I thought to myself…set a goal of running the half and draw energy from the fact that it might do some good for the Youth Homes. Okay. Done.

While momentum is a bit more scientific or to be more accurate...a matter of physics.

Momentum:  noun pl. momentums -•tums or momenta -•ta (-tə)

1. the impetus of a moving object

2. strength or force that keeps growing a campaign that gained momentum

3. Physics, Mech. the product of the mass of a particle, body, etc. and its velocity: abbrev. M

And as in any thing that moves...momentum can shift, change and wax and wane.

So…I’m left wondering what just exactly will keep pushing me forward. I, unfortunately, cannot be pushed through the streets of Missoula in a jogging stroller and truly feel any sense of accomplishment….I mean really, as much as I’ve dreamed that could be an option it would be a bit of a cheat.

But what WILL push me? Where do I draw momentum from? I really had to think this one through…dig deep down. And what I found wasn’t all that special or unique to me. You might even find it to be an "Uh Duh" kinda statement.  It is what anyone needs to accomplish something they think is impossible. It is also something that adheres to the rule that strength of momentum can come and go.

It is simply...a belief in one’s self.

Simple but not always easy on mile 2 of many many more ahead.  My belief that I can do this comes in bursts for now...waxing and waning. 

Update:  I am going to the running class my friend asked me to try.  She told me I will have to run 16 times around their indoor track to get a baseline of my ability.  Hmph.  And then onto the first training class with Run Wild Missoula on Sunday.  (push push...push push)


Jessica, Hannah's primary staff, writes this update for the week:

Hannah seems to finally be making herself comfortable here. (Although that could change on any given day!!) She is more at ease with each of the staff members and her peers. Hannah seems to be understanding the rules and expectations of the level system....but that doesn’t mean she’s necessarily following all of them. Just like a teenager, she's pushing the limits some to see what she can get away with!

She’s become consistent with her three cardios each week, and it seems to be getting easier for her to do. We changed things up on her over the past couple weekends because of the beautiful weather. We did cardios as a group and hiked up the M and the L. Hannah was really excited about the change, and REALLY excited about skipping out on the treadmill for a night! Mixing things up a bit has been good for her...although we emphasize consistency in the program, sometimes flexibility is what pushes us to grow even more. Hannah went into each hike with confidence, but this quickly wavered. After about 5 minutes on each hike, she fell behind and starting complaining of body aches and pains that were not related to hiking. It seemed as though she didn’t have as much confidence as we first thought. However, I’m happy to say that with some encouragement and a steady pace the complaining quickly stopped and she was a superstar! Hannah really enjoyed the new experience and the view at the top of each hike was more than a reward for her.