Out like a lion...

There is nothing to stop the fire that burns in your toes when spring is in the air.  There is no holding back that spirit that drives you to jump out of bed at 4:45am and get your shoes on five minutes early just to see if you can beat the birds wake up call.  That awkward place between winter running wear and summer skin is bridged.  All the crap on your mind dissipates in the quiet mist when seconds don't matter and seem not to add against a tally of your days countdown.

There is just you, the smell of thawing worms, the lingering dream of Boston marathon 2013, and your shoes....

Let it run.  Let you hope spring forth and set the pace.  Let the tingling in your toes bring a smile to your face and a restless sleep before a hill workout.  Let that stupid stupid mistake in your past stand on the curb while you run free... I promise you ... it will wait for you.  Let yourself just be.  You and moons last beams can dance along the path, road, trail as though no one is waking... Just be.

It's nearing the end of March.  I am not afraid of April.  I'm feeling ok with May.  June has me a wee be jittery.  July ... July... I cry myself to sleep worrying about those hills on the bike route of my half ironman.  But it isn't in vain... It's in the tangle of finding who I am.  I am here.  I am learning that is enough...  I am carrying this fierce hope.  It maybe carries me.  I bring it with me on my way to work.  I sing to it while I sip my coffee.  I nurture it in the snuggles with my kids.  Hope... I am here.  Me and the thawing worms.  Dancing in the wakeful dark on each morning run. 

You might laugh if you saw me ... I keep trying to convince myself you need something special to push through chaos and emerge an ironman...

The truth is... You don't... Just be you and start.  Butterflies are just well practised caterpillars.

It is day 447 of my run streak.  I don't go far.  I don't get there fast.  But I go. 

Today... You go... See what you find along the way.

Episode 4; The 1/2 Iron(wo)man, Saga of a blind athlete

What it takes....

We had some technical issues this weekend, but here it is!!!  Episode four :)

Please keep sending your feedback by either commenting or emailing rmavery@primus.ca


Turn your speakers up and enjoy!


Thanks Terese (13) for filming, casting and editing...

Episode 3; The half iron(wo)man - Saga of a Blind Athlete

episode three! Target Practice

Thanks for tuning in again!  We are loving sharing this journey with you all.  Keep sending us your feedback and thoughts to rmavery@primus.ca

Turn up your speakers... Time for a bit of goal talk...

Awesome job Terese (my daughter 13) on directing and casting :)

Belief

Hope and faith are wonderful.  They caress my stamina in the hush before I travel from that place of thinking maybe I will get out of bed and go run... to that place when I feel unstoppable on the run running the first 25 meters of my morning... down hill of course.  Start every journey with hope and faith...

Finish every journey with belief.

I went for a swim today.  Put my cane down by the lane, walked my towel over to the hooks.  Placed my glasses carefully on the ledge.  Walked back to the lane I had chosen.  That's your impression watching from the side, or the hot tub, or not watching at all because nothing seemed odd.  What really happened was this - I went swimming today.  Came out of the ladies change room and noticed there was no guard standing close enough to ask which lane was free.  Walked slowly around to the deep end as if with purpose.  Judging movement in the water.  Tested a coughs echo off the wall.  Stepped around the puddle I knew to be always there.  Placed my cane on the ground by the lane I hoped and prayed was in fact empty.  Took three deep breaths to ensure no movement there.  Turned and walked to the hook to hang my towel and place my glasses on the ledge.  Turned again... Recounted the steps and the angle of my turn to get back to my lane without falling in the pool.  Felt the grate under foot and my cane with my left finger tips.  Sat down and put on my cap and goggles.  Someone came and sat beside me. They asked to share a lane.  I went into a big "absolutely... sorry if I bump you ... I don't see very well" speech.  Start every journey with hope and faith.

Movement and chaos in the water brings me to swim faster.  As if my body is craving a rush or my head just wants to get out of the pool again.  Give me a quiet still water and I could swim in silent peace forever. Movement and chaos and I'm counting strokes to the next breath.

Finish every journey with belief.

From the pool to a strength class.  Not my usual instructor.  I get to give my speech again.  To my trainer, to my neighbours, to .... who knows... This trainer doesn't demonstrate the same way.  We are both learning today.  Start every journey with hope and faith and carry stubbornness with you close at hand.

Walking home from the gym my mind is on fire.  It's also asleep.  Singing the same song on repeat.  Usually I have a Tom Petty, Elton John, American Pie internal carrying tune.  Today my walk home was inspired by the dark side of motivation... and "I'm not afraid" ... but maybe I am... and just don't care? Truth is a horrible companion.  She is a needy cranky unaffectionate soul that stops me in my tracks without notice. 

Yes I am afraid.  I hate crossing this road.  I hate not knowing if your turning signal is on.  I hate that look I'm thinking you are giving me as if to wave me on... I want to scream..."I CAN'T SEE YOU" ... but instead I give my speech..."sorry (grin) I don't see very well... didn't mean to get in your way"

Finish every journey with belief...

... It occurs to me that I give an impression as a disabled person.  A heightened illusion that we are calm and sturdy and all things capable.  That we have a sense of fight and determination that seems lacking in ... say a teenager when you are trying to get them out of bed on a Saturday.  This is false and I am endlessly sorry for that.  I struggle in every moment.  I stand up straight only when you are looking.  The problem is I never know when you are looking... I strive to bypass an understated expectation of the disabled person.  However... in so doing... people believe in me. 

Let me be the first to admit that is an intense responsibility.  There are days when the sky is dark enough for all things...and days when I cannot leave my house.  The space in between is carefully frustrating.  Especially as a parent.  Start every journey with faith and hope....

Today I stopped at a Tim Hortons and bought myself a coffee.  That's what it looked like.  But really what happened was... I thought about it for five blocks.  Wondered if I could cross the drive through.  Panicked about whether a driver would wave me on.  Considered my actual need for coffee.  Which was increasing with the stress. Misjudged the distance between me and the puddle I could hear them driving through.  Shoved my chin higher... scrambled to read the amount I owed that no one read outloud.... Started to sweat in my winter coat from stress. Crossed the same drive through.  Stood on the corner and thanked the lord for a red light so I could catch my breath.

Finish every journey with belief.

It's Runstreak day 433 today. I did that, despite and because of.... my disability.

Peace to you in running :)

The 1/2 Iron(wo)man; Saga of a Blind Athlete Episode #2

The Right Stuff....

So here it is!!! Week two of training!  Terese's fancy filming and my boys both helping. 

This week we took a minute to pause and see what kind of equipment one might need (as a blind athlete) in order to train for a 1/2 ironman. 

Enjoy!  Again, we are still working on our volume issues (although I'm fairly convinced it's the equipment)

Lets us know what you think! Also we are looking for future contributions so drop us a line!!! rmavery@primus.ca

Peace to you in running :)

Two Months In..

March

.. and I'm back in grade one. Learning about lions and lambs. Learning about what it means to be "other" in my own skin, in my own class, in my own idea of "other" so kindly given to me.  And Oh how I have lived it... this disabled life.  I park in the special close spots.  Correction, those who drive me get to park in the nice spots.  That surely must be a perk right?

January made me think I was over thinking.  February made me feel.... embraced in an idea.  This notion of alone in a crowd.  Shuffled between the known and the assumed.  And yet I am still living the "other" in this new world of athlete that I have pretended to be a part of. 

Perhaps I don't run fast.  I know I'm not strong.  I know that by all rights I should be able to lift that weight, or run that long.... I am .... unnerved at my belief in these words "able" and "should".  I am ... forever redefining my opinions on gravity.  I am ...

I have no clue.

This is week one of the official half ironman training.  I thought it was a lot before.  I thought my hair couldn't get any frizzier from being frazzled.  I thought I would stop waking up in the kitchen at two am eating bananas and bagels.  I thought I was losing my mind before.

I thought wrong.

My solo half marathon left a traumatic nervousness in it's wake.  I jump at all movements.  Spin around at the slightest noise.  I see shadows in the mirror and say excuse me.  I haven't found peace in a run since.  I wake up in shakes and sweats, afraid to miss the train tracks in my dreams.  I feel my heart rate racing when I am late for things.

And I still wake up eating bananas on the kitchen floor at two am.  There are callouses forming on my hands from gripping metal free weights.  My elbows have rug burn from alternating planks.  My hair is frizzy.  I have hopes that calm comes before the race. I have hopes that life will stop whipping around like a tornado and settle in the dust of collective thought.

I am....

... still deciding what exactly it is that I am.

February's Stats;

Running - 33 runs, 125.87 km covered, Runstreak maintained

Biking - 9 bike rides, 183.7km covered.

swimming - 5 swims, 7.45 km covered.

weights - 8 weight workouts

core - 7 core workouts

toenails - 2 toenails lost

yoga - ok I admit ... zero yoga... I'm working up to it.... I swear.

And to March?

Well, if she's anything like me... she'll come in like a lion and leave in the same manner.  I'm not sure I operate in any other gear.

Peace to you in running :)

Solo Racing, Peterborough Half marathon

Time stands still, however illusionary that truly is, for my last breath of comprehension... just before they finish that countdown.  Chaos and crowds and eyes everywhere.  Music too loud, and obstacles everywhere... I keep waiting for that voice to my left to say, heres the mat... step up...

There is none...

There is nothing...

Nothing but chaos and crowds... and eyes everywhere. 

Breathing deep, too deep to stop my feet.  No garmin, no bunnies, no stopping my panic.  No knowing, no trusting and no room for error.  No voice on my left.  No external encouragement.

Nothing but chaos and crowds .... and eyes everywhere.

I'm longing to close mine.  Block out the sun. Cancel the plans.  Return the ship to shore.  Move away from this challenge with my shortest of tails between my legs.  No one to talk you down. No one to spin the distraction away.  The crowd hasn't thinned.  That worries me.  I expected to run alone.  Turtle pace. Happy solo run.  It's not to be.

Nothing but chaos and crowds... and eyes everywhere.

Moving moving forward... for three brief seconds the sun hides behind a tree.  I wonder, as I find the road for the first time in 3km... Is this what solo racing is like for sighted athletes?  Alas no, because even though the sun hid revealing the road... I still only saw it with 8% vision.  I still only captured my location for 3 fleeting seconds. 

I have plugged in now.  ipod on... blocking out the chaos and the crowds.  Nothing can stop those eyes though.  When you put yourself out in the open... expect onlookers.  No one notices you in the shadows, hoping for the world to change.  Not even the world will notice. 

Somewhere around 3km there is a bunny passing... and a friend I knew that was aiming an easy 15-25 mins faster than me.  I cannot contain my laughter.  I am trying to keep up with the wrong crowd it seems.  And not for the last time this race I remind myself ... I'm not running their race.

This inner battle is raging.  Who's race am I running?  Not mine surely?  Creating awareness requires a shift is consciousness that comes from being uncomfortable.  So am I running their race? No... but still.

People on the course are helpful, if not curious.  I asked one kind racer to tap a pylon to let me know how far out I had before on coming traffic would be my doom.  I asked another to read a km marker sign.  Touched the following from there to count.  Some other racer warned the on course traffic cop was letting some cars through and I should stop.  Then asked how blind blind was.... 8% I answered with a smile.  "Does it affect your quality of life?" he enquired.  I quick self reminder... I'm not running their race.  The war raged on in my head.  Or was I?  Awareness my goal... surely I've done that?  "No" I answered.... (in a language that made sense for it's target) "I have a job, three wonderful children" ... He seemed lost in thought... I left him at 6km.  My own hill to climb.

A local member of our Achilles Track club passed me on that hill.  Wished me luck.  I returned.  Awareness.  She knew.  Silent words between us.  She's guided me in a race before.

"WATER?!" I heard them calling.... "water?" I asked... both hands up... "yep here" I was given this small clue.... Judging from that sound... Four feet away.  I waited... No more hints.  "keep talking?" I asked hands still raised... Then there was a cup... Grateful sips... Bright sun.. if I throw this will someone get wet? Another clue.  Thunk... there's a can here.... small steps... Thunk.  Found it.

Plug back in.  Breezed down that hill. Felt fantastic.  Running my race. Wait, now it's my race?  Journey in my ears.... So many eyes on me... I start singing.  Outloud.  Not caring.  Let them think.  Let them wonder.  Let them smile.  Dancing at 7km. This is not awareness for disability.  This is awareness of personal needs.  Dam it... I pull it together a bit more.  You can't represent unseen faces, even if you are one, no matter what you do.  Someone's needs will need fighting for.

My pylons have disappeared.  Replaced by ankle high invisible markers. I'm following the shadow of the hydro wire on the road for guidance.  Go for a drive and watch them.  They bellow and move... up and down on a curve... As did my running.  So bright. Longing to close my eyes. Block out that sun.

8km I hear my name.... I turn the music up... I'm not running their race.  I'm not running my race.  But I am running.  Turn around point I manage to send a text to Rick... to someone? to whomever was last on my list... 11 was what I hoped it said.  I'm still alive is what it meant.  Don't save me is what I meant.  Let me fight this is what I meant.

I can't fight it with the direction change.  I close my eyes.  I comprise by blinking every ten or fifteen seconds.  Open grimace, no barriers next ten feet... close them. Laugh how the hell would I know if there was something 8 feet from me?  And no barriers?  Ha!  This whole thing is my biggest barrier ever.  Ever.  Keep running.  There is a hill coming.  I'm not running my race.  Awareness won't come from me dying.  Keep running.

My feet shift in angle.  Here is my hill.  Only I know, climb the hill, turn the corner climb another.  Ran up the first, walked the second.  "WATER?" I hear that clue... here we go again...  Marco? I'm not running their race...

Down the hill.  Turn the music up.  I send another text.  16 it said I hoped.  I'm alive it meant.  Don't save me I meant.  Let me fight this war it meant. 

17km.. 18km... Turn the corner... dragged my feet over three sets of traintracks times two... Memorized their place in my race.  My race?  no... not my race...19km... and it hits me...

I've done this. And I'm gasping for air.  Crying without reserve.  Like a fool.  Now this is not awareness... Or is it?  And for whom?  Them? me? .... me....

20km theres a truck driving towards me on course.  No crowds.  No marshals.  No help.  Just me and this truck.  Still crying... Still thinking don't die.  Awareness does not come from death.  Not today.  I played the longest game of chicken I've ever dared with that truck.  Crying.  Waiting.  Praying.  no text now... what would it say? 20?

21k... I see that noise ahead.  I know that I'm done.  No crowds. No garmin.  No voice on my left to tell me heres the mat step up... Crying... Giving up... Awareness... Waiting to stop looking.. Longing to close my eyes.  Make it dark.   Make it stop.  Make awareness someone else's job now.

.. Hands found me.. Some I knew, others I didn't.  Some I let hold me... Others I shook.  They said accomplishment.  Crying... Not my race.  But so very much.....

 my race.....