Unspoken rules of racing go something like this... Or at least in the eves before a race this is how I feel...
1. A girl loves to run, a girl likes to set a goal and see what the hell she's made of. A girl, standing at the start line of her future forgets how good this sounded when she planned it lost in the steam of a quiet cup of tea.
2. A girl never forgives her commitment, especially to herself and all that she wants from this world and herself in it. A girl swallows fear and the impending sense of relentless need for the loo .... A girl will jump up and down and freeze her ass off in the shorts she never once wore running all for the sake of carrying less and the prayer that someone will snap at least one flattering picture she might some day stare at online and think, that's me how cool! I did that!
3. A girl laces and relaces the same shoe ten times for the right fit before the gun goes off. A girl looks around or listens around for the sense of the crowd and what they came for. A girl lets go of every possible limitation that could steal her breath or distract her step. A girl raises her head to the sky in one last silent prayer that no one she knows will actually be paying attention, unless of course she does well, in which case ....
4. And lastly, a girl throws hugs around like candy falling from a piñata she wasn't supposed to break, knowing full well she should have protected herself from the possibility of getting hurt. A girl gives her all and takes no prisoners, why would she, they weigh too much to carry so far. A girl smiles and lets go.
5. A girl loves to run, so she does.
And ...
6. If she's a blind girl, she runs with help. She runs with a guide fearless and giving. She runs with supportive family, supportive friends. A blind girl remembers she wouldn't be running at all without her world around her lending a hand. So we all run together.
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Stacking Stones
Delicately replacing yourself with the one you long to be takes precious time. It's a quiet practice of stacking stones on top of each other while there are few and far between seconds of time in space. Time being what it is, merely a construct of this here life, we feed that fire of seconds endlessly. One stone, I got up today and realised I needed a rest. Ok even superhero wannabes have pj days and tea hand warmer moments when all that matters is the last run on sentence I managed to coax on the screen. Stone two, which I place unbalanced on top... guilt for missing a work out. And the stack falls down. Everyone has that moment. And if they don't then surely they are closer to superbeing status than I. Gather my stones and re-examine depth and desire. Weigh the stone in your hand. Does perseverance come before truth or after? In the case of this blind athlete, that depends on the day, the activity and the elements. Sunny day, no guide runner, long solo run... ok maybe... but add wind and take my hearing and maybe not. Getting up at earlier than my stupid o'clock is easy enough to do, but perhaps the rest is just important? Maybe today.... perhaps today the dream needs just as much time to brew in that slumber in the dark when no one but my soul is tangled in the story line. Perhaps today the lyrics are being rewritten to allow for curiosity for that road I never take out of fear. Perhaps today ... I might say no to myself when I ask in the quiet alarm interrupted silence for five more minutes sleep.
Later the stones lay scattered along the path I travelled mentally for the five free minutes I didn't have. Later, after I came back to look again, to feel again, I brought along my secret weapon - laughter. I carried with me the hopes of my children. I tagged along my husbands knowledge and experience. I brought my tea too. And together, we are unstoppable. The stones stack nicely this time around. They have regrouped knowing there is no point in holding back their strength. This time we worked together. This time the stack was a wonderful mix of understanding and the right fuel, crumbled together with rest and effort. Added to a heaping dose of motivation and desire.
The only enemy I have along this road of training and dream chasing.... is myself. It's not time, or sleepless nights, or worry or fret. It's exactly what I make it. It has the face I give it every day. Its' etched harshness is only as deep as I let it go.
Every mountain you climb has stumbling blocks. Well that's not new news. Sometimes though, we forget that there is a series of mountains with valleys between. This time, down in the valley, before the next climb... I made a choice. I chose to roll around in the mud and dead leaves to both camouflage myself from the next fear that jumps out and... to remember having been here. Because, inevitably... we all end up here sometime....
Later the stones lay scattered along the path I travelled mentally for the five free minutes I didn't have. Later, after I came back to look again, to feel again, I brought along my secret weapon - laughter. I carried with me the hopes of my children. I tagged along my husbands knowledge and experience. I brought my tea too. And together, we are unstoppable. The stones stack nicely this time around. They have regrouped knowing there is no point in holding back their strength. This time we worked together. This time the stack was a wonderful mix of understanding and the right fuel, crumbled together with rest and effort. Added to a heaping dose of motivation and desire.
The only enemy I have along this road of training and dream chasing.... is myself. It's not time, or sleepless nights, or worry or fret. It's exactly what I make it. It has the face I give it every day. Its' etched harshness is only as deep as I let it go.
Every mountain you climb has stumbling blocks. Well that's not new news. Sometimes though, we forget that there is a series of mountains with valleys between. This time, down in the valley, before the next climb... I made a choice. I chose to roll around in the mud and dead leaves to both camouflage myself from the next fear that jumps out and... to remember having been here. Because, inevitably... we all end up here sometime....
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Ultrarunning vs pregnancy
I was recently asked if I felt ultra running was comparable to pregnancy... This is what I came up with...
Ultrarunning vs pregnancy;
(in my NOT so humble opinion)
1. Pregnancy makes you bloated. As does ultrarunning.
2. Pregnancy gives you a reason to justify grumpy. As does ultrarunning.
3. Pregnancy makes you think sex is unsexy. Ultrarunning, after about 50k, does the same.
4. Pregnancy forces an entire wardrobe change. Ultrarunning demands it's own attire too.
5. Pregnancy has an end but you can never feel that until you're actually there and then you have to go through hell to get there. Likewise to ultrarunning.
6. Pregnancy is contagious. It looks great from the outside and everyone is doing it. (literally) ... Likewise to ultrarunning.
7. At the end of pregnancy you get a cranky pooing puking demanding baby. Ditto ultrarunning ...
I rest my case.
Ultrarunning vs pregnancy;
(in my NOT so humble opinion)
1. Pregnancy makes you bloated. As does ultrarunning.
2. Pregnancy gives you a reason to justify grumpy. As does ultrarunning.
3. Pregnancy makes you think sex is unsexy. Ultrarunning, after about 50k, does the same.
4. Pregnancy forces an entire wardrobe change. Ultrarunning demands it's own attire too.
5. Pregnancy has an end but you can never feel that until you're actually there and then you have to go through hell to get there. Likewise to ultrarunning.
6. Pregnancy is contagious. It looks great from the outside and everyone is doing it. (literally) ... Likewise to ultrarunning.
7. At the end of pregnancy you get a cranky pooing puking demanding baby. Ditto ultrarunning ...
I rest my case.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
An idle ironmans wife....
Time stands still, only every second counts. How can counting occur if time froze in its tracks? One two buckle my shoe.... And I sit here in wait. Like a Neanderthal for the next lightening strike to cook my supper. Like a classic bronte character for the spring thaw.
Oh sure, there's technology to help me keep track. Or maybe track my brain cell loss? Or trace my decomposing patience with every refresh click. Three four shut the door. And I sit here in wait. I can't run you in. I can't tie your shoe, check you pulse, feed you... No all I can do is curse you. In such a loving way from so far away. This idle ironmans wife ... Sits in wait, like a spider who walked in fresh paint.
Real life is unforgiving. People want food, attention, things ... Time and love from me. And that's complicated as I am as scattered as stardust on a kentucky wind. I'm neither here, nor there. Five six pick up sticks. And I sit in wait. Or don't sit, as the case may be. I shuffle, I move, I act all engaged. But this thing you chose to do, to accomplish, is disengaging my core. Even if I pushed you to test yourself. To try to be the better you. To try to hope you escaped your youth unscathed and unscattered and committed. Leaving me so scattered wondering if there are pieces to pick up.
You don't come from privilege. You haven't the best toys and gadgets and gizmos. You have drive and love and the will to keep going past the point where we all would stop, us idle ironmens wives. We'd stop and say that's enough for today. And make tea and fold laundry in quiet contempt of the clock that steals away our dusk. Seven eight Lay them straight. And I sit in wait. So uncomfortable and in such longing to know... Are you ok?
And you on that road, shuffling your feet... To a beat with the giggle of the goonies in your head. To the smell of that tim hortons coffee in your dreams. To the swagger of your 4yo sons singing to somebody that I used to know. And me here, so far away, an idle ironmans wife... Nothing but time and space. Nine ten lets do it again. And I sit in wait. Humming along to the thought of you persevering, to the hope of you hoping, to the need of you moving forward. One foot then the other... So far away from here.
Soon your race will be done and you will rest and recover and drive the long 12 hrs to see me, us, again. Soon you'll realize you've accomplished you've won this deep inner battle with the demons you didn't know. Soon you'll be here sitting beside me, holding my hand saying thank you for the support and kindness and love... And this idle ironmans wife, with every ounce of love and respect, will smack you upside the head and shout "why couldn't you just be an ultra runner???!?!?!"
Until then from this idle ironmans wife.... A million X's and O's...
Oh sure, there's technology to help me keep track. Or maybe track my brain cell loss? Or trace my decomposing patience with every refresh click. Three four shut the door. And I sit here in wait. I can't run you in. I can't tie your shoe, check you pulse, feed you... No all I can do is curse you. In such a loving way from so far away. This idle ironmans wife ... Sits in wait, like a spider who walked in fresh paint.
Real life is unforgiving. People want food, attention, things ... Time and love from me. And that's complicated as I am as scattered as stardust on a kentucky wind. I'm neither here, nor there. Five six pick up sticks. And I sit in wait. Or don't sit, as the case may be. I shuffle, I move, I act all engaged. But this thing you chose to do, to accomplish, is disengaging my core. Even if I pushed you to test yourself. To try to be the better you. To try to hope you escaped your youth unscathed and unscattered and committed. Leaving me so scattered wondering if there are pieces to pick up.
You don't come from privilege. You haven't the best toys and gadgets and gizmos. You have drive and love and the will to keep going past the point where we all would stop, us idle ironmens wives. We'd stop and say that's enough for today. And make tea and fold laundry in quiet contempt of the clock that steals away our dusk. Seven eight Lay them straight. And I sit in wait. So uncomfortable and in such longing to know... Are you ok?
And you on that road, shuffling your feet... To a beat with the giggle of the goonies in your head. To the smell of that tim hortons coffee in your dreams. To the swagger of your 4yo sons singing to somebody that I used to know. And me here, so far away, an idle ironmans wife... Nothing but time and space. Nine ten lets do it again. And I sit in wait. Humming along to the thought of you persevering, to the hope of you hoping, to the need of you moving forward. One foot then the other... So far away from here.
Soon your race will be done and you will rest and recover and drive the long 12 hrs to see me, us, again. Soon you'll realize you've accomplished you've won this deep inner battle with the demons you didn't know. Soon you'll be here sitting beside me, holding my hand saying thank you for the support and kindness and love... And this idle ironmans wife, with every ounce of love and respect, will smack you upside the head and shout "why couldn't you just be an ultra runner???!?!?!"
Until then from this idle ironmans wife.... A million X's and O's...
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Through your eyes
I see hope .. Through your eyes.
I see strength ... Through your eyes.
I see my race ... Through your eyes.
I see my faults ... Through your eyes.
I see courage ... Through your eyes.
Closing my eyes ... This blind girl sees more than your bated breath.
I feel my belief tangled in the steam from my morning coffee.
I feel my specific disregard for rules in the pony tail I feed through my running visor.
I feel my 'self' coming apart under foot as if the earth has turned to dust.
I feel my excitement raging in every fasicial cell, slow twitch every ready to release.
I feel my path through every hushed prayer cried into my silent pillow.
I feel .... Gathering resolution...
I feel grateful to run.
I feel thankful to have dedicated guides by my side.
I feel... Which is foreign of late in itself.
Somewhere in this 24hr race I will lose myself, glimpse myself, release myself, hold myself and find an all too extinct smile I'm sure I buried deep under 100k or so...
I see strength ... Through your eyes.
I see my race ... Through your eyes.
I see my faults ... Through your eyes.
I see courage ... Through your eyes.
Closing my eyes ... This blind girl sees more than your bated breath.
I feel my belief tangled in the steam from my morning coffee.
I feel my specific disregard for rules in the pony tail I feed through my running visor.
I feel my 'self' coming apart under foot as if the earth has turned to dust.
I feel my excitement raging in every fasicial cell, slow twitch every ready to release.
I feel my path through every hushed prayer cried into my silent pillow.
I feel .... Gathering resolution...
I feel grateful to run.
I feel thankful to have dedicated guides by my side.
I feel... Which is foreign of late in itself.
Somewhere in this 24hr race I will lose myself, glimpse myself, release myself, hold myself and find an all too extinct smile I'm sure I buried deep under 100k or so...
Friday, May 18, 2012
Inner strength
Any runner could attest taper is hard, both mentally and physically. Any runner could also tell you having to pull out of a hopeful race is another hurt altogether.
So it's true, I'm not invincible. However that's only because I haven't perfected my invincibly booster juice yet. I'm working on it. I've found the end of my run streak... How sad that is. It wasn't the day of bad family news, or the day of overdue bills, or the day after my marathon and not even the day I had a drink before bed then realized... Oh crap I haven't run yet. It was exactly where it needed to be, on the day I asked my body to run and the response was no.... Not today dear.
Strep throat plus fifths disease both took advantage of my weakness and moved into my ear. With one hours warning, a full rupture of the right ear drum stopped my break neck chaos in its shoes. Literally.
But I am blessed. 498 days I got to run. 498 days I chose to see past excuses and through unmotivated moments. 498 days I had the chance to connect with myself through this small and simple gift I call running. Thunderstorms, freezing rain, black ice and every possible heat wave in between... All taught me the inner strength needed to move on.
And here I am... Not running. The most frustrating place to stand is still. The most difficult task to undertake is not that hopeful marathon you'd someday like to finish. It's here... Not moving. Seemingly not breathing. Not doing much of anything except... Healing and gathering inner strength for your next step.
So many many people both physically close and online distant, helped support, motivate, inspiration, tolerate and guide me through my run streak. Endless thank you's sent out to the universe.
Plans have changed, as plans do. Ironman dreams postponed for a year. And run streaks to resume in the fall. Summer promises new landscapes as our family preps to move cities. Trail running is about to win. Bringing this blind girl closer to nature and closer to balance. August will be my first ultra race... The dirty girls 24hr ultra in mansfield Ontario. And September I'm lucky enough to run a 50k course close to my husband.
In the meantime, to give you an idea... I have 8% vision and before could run solo at the right time of day (darkness) However with only one functioning ear I am stumbling and clumsy ... There is no hope of running solo until at least some hearing returns. It's amazing how much we make use of our senses without actually knowing it.
My challenge for all the brave runners out there... Find a friend, go to a track, take turns running a lap blindfolded and guiding a lap... See how things change when your world takes on a very different shape. And let me know how it goes!
Disabled athletes everywhere would love for your volunteer time as a guide runner, biker, swimmer... Look for Achilles track clubs near you to volunteer.
And as ever.... Peace to you in running :)
So it's true, I'm not invincible. However that's only because I haven't perfected my invincibly booster juice yet. I'm working on it. I've found the end of my run streak... How sad that is. It wasn't the day of bad family news, or the day of overdue bills, or the day after my marathon and not even the day I had a drink before bed then realized... Oh crap I haven't run yet. It was exactly where it needed to be, on the day I asked my body to run and the response was no.... Not today dear.
Strep throat plus fifths disease both took advantage of my weakness and moved into my ear. With one hours warning, a full rupture of the right ear drum stopped my break neck chaos in its shoes. Literally.
But I am blessed. 498 days I got to run. 498 days I chose to see past excuses and through unmotivated moments. 498 days I had the chance to connect with myself through this small and simple gift I call running. Thunderstorms, freezing rain, black ice and every possible heat wave in between... All taught me the inner strength needed to move on.
And here I am... Not running. The most frustrating place to stand is still. The most difficult task to undertake is not that hopeful marathon you'd someday like to finish. It's here... Not moving. Seemingly not breathing. Not doing much of anything except... Healing and gathering inner strength for your next step.
So many many people both physically close and online distant, helped support, motivate, inspiration, tolerate and guide me through my run streak. Endless thank you's sent out to the universe.
Plans have changed, as plans do. Ironman dreams postponed for a year. And run streaks to resume in the fall. Summer promises new landscapes as our family preps to move cities. Trail running is about to win. Bringing this blind girl closer to nature and closer to balance. August will be my first ultra race... The dirty girls 24hr ultra in mansfield Ontario. And September I'm lucky enough to run a 50k course close to my husband.
In the meantime, to give you an idea... I have 8% vision and before could run solo at the right time of day (darkness) However with only one functioning ear I am stumbling and clumsy ... There is no hope of running solo until at least some hearing returns. It's amazing how much we make use of our senses without actually knowing it.
My challenge for all the brave runners out there... Find a friend, go to a track, take turns running a lap blindfolded and guiding a lap... See how things change when your world takes on a very different shape. And let me know how it goes!
Disabled athletes everywhere would love for your volunteer time as a guide runner, biker, swimmer... Look for Achilles track clubs near you to volunteer.
And as ever.... Peace to you in running :)
Friday, May 11, 2012
Giving Grace
Giving grace the control I long to keep just for myself. Giving grace the soul that I have claims to but no ultimate authority over. Giving grace my every hope, my every dream of being better, of better being. Giving grace the desire I breathe in every time I turn over in my sleep. Giving grace the need in my feet to move the planets to make the world feel whole. Giving grace my fear that reflects back at me with a devilish daring grin. Giving grace my suppression, my hold back, my just a little bit of myself for protection. Giving grace my appreciation, my love, my affection, my lack of it. Giving grace my fight, my stubborn, my determination, my imperfections, my perfectionism. Giving grace my anger, as it serves no one, Giving grace time to fix my heart. Giving grace the sight I don't have to direct me in the brightness. Giving grace my faith. Giving grace that longing in my every muscle fibre that prays there is some kind of truth found at the end of a 100 mile run. Giving grace my gratitude for those who tolerate my insanity to continue searching for it. Giving grace my DNA to mend and find a way to make an entire person out of what culture deems to be incomplete. Giving grace my hands to help others who cannot help themselves. Giving grace my everything lost in the quiet. Giving grace that sunset, that sunrise, that moment in time that stopped and took in just one molecule at a time selfishly just for me not caring about mother earth or the status of laundry. Giving grace my guilt and reservations. Giving grace back my angel. Giving grace my inner compass and intention. Giving grace my balance and my chaos and my unintentional search for them both. Giving grace my sad song sung in the moments of near giving up. Giving grace my perceptions of truth and reality. Giving grace my here and now, my external boundaries, my every energy. Giving grace my sense of karma, my sense of score keeping. Giving grace my hurt and blame. Giving grace my voice... it's not mine anyway. Giving grace my notion of can do and impossible. Giving grace my goals and standards. Giving grace sensory disruption and focus. Giving grace more than grace wants all in prep for overcoming obstacles and surviving half ironmans and ultra running. Giving grace my gravity.... so that I might fly...
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