What Lies Within

 

 “Where’s Carri?” you ask?  Well, I’ve been asking the same thing lately!  Seriously.  I do not know this person who seems to have taken over my body.  She is INSANE!  Last night I was talking with my friend, Gina, about the
Santa Barbara 10-miler which we ran today.  (She is training with TNT as well.)  We were talking about how it is a “tapering” week because we were only running 10 miles. . . We were pretty far into the conversation when I told her we were both NUTS.  Since when is 10 miles “ONLY” 10 miles? 

 

Henry David Thoreau said, “What lies behind us, and what lies before us are small matters compared to what lies within us.”  Recently I have discovered that a lot more lies within me than I ever imagined. 

 

Last Saturday the team went on a 2 hour 45 minute run.  The coaches had us start at the “top” of this incline so that once we returned to our starting point we would have to spend the last two miles of our run going uphill.  (Apparently, there is a climb at mile 10 of the San Diego Marathon.)  I ran the farthest I’ve ever run that Saturday (14.4 miles) and I have absolutely no idea where those last two miles came from.  Even while running them, I thought, “How is it possible that I am doing this?”  I’m one of those people who never played organized sports that involved balls because I would never consider sacrificing myself to “get” the ball.  You know, I won’t dive for it.  I’ve never been involved in an activity where I willfully put myself into a position that might cause me physical discomfort. 

 

Not only have I never participated in such activities, I have spent the majority of my life looking at those who do as some form of alien.  In college two of my girlfriends and I actively teased and abused one of our other friends who would go on “runs.”  We thought she was nuts.  We would sit in our dorm rooms and just mock her commitment – while eating popcorn and drinking Pepsi.  When one of my dearest friends started doing triathlons, I just shook my head and thought, “early mid-life crisis. . .”  The way I allowed myself to continue in my inactivity was to consider those who spent so much time doing such stuff as a bit off.  I even worked with a woman who would say things like, “Well, you know, we’re not like those athletic people.  We’re drawn to more intellectual activities.” 

 

It wasn’t just that I wasn’t one of those athletic people, it was that I never imagined I could be.  I had never really tried to be.  I was insecure about how those people would perceive me if I did try.  I was worried about what they would think if someone as large as I was tried to be involved.  I just felt gargantuan and knew those people would look at me and tsk tsk tsk over the fat girl pretending to be athletic.  (Don’t I sound so very sad and pathetic???)  Seriously, though, I hadn’t hit that age yet where I didn’t care what people thought and then when I did get there, I just was too out of shape to know where to start.  Where does a 30 year old who has never been into sports go when she decides it might do her some good to try?   

That is what lies behind me. 

 

When I ran those 14.4 miles last week it really dawned on me just how far 26.2 miles is.  IT IS GOING TO BE REALLY FAR!!!  I know, maybe I could have figured that out sooner, right?  One would think that I could have just driven the distance and caught on, but I just hadn’t really internalized it.  26.2 miles is FAR.  Those 14.4 made that real for me.  I’ve begun to look at the calendar in a whole new way.  As a teacher, this time of year usually is accompanied with a little giddy expectation for summer.  (Summer ROCKS.)  This year, instead of looking at June and thinking, “Yippee, sleeping in!”  I’m looking at June and thinking “TWENTY SIX POINT TWO MILES.” 

 

That is what lies before me.

 

What lies within me?  Well, as I said, last week I was surprised to discover that what lies within me is able to get me up a freakin’ hill the last 2 miles of the longest run of my life.  Then on Monday I had too many commitments after school to be able to do my workout in the afternoon so I actually got out of bed at 4:50 so I could be at the gym by 5:00am in order to get my workout in.  Thursdays I walk with a friend but it really isn’t much of a “workout” (and Thursdays are cross-training days anyway) so I was up again at 4:50 on Thursday.  WHO IS THIS PERSON LIVING MY LIFE??? 

 

I am finding myself continually shocked by what lies within me.  I had no idea that within me was this person who could be dedicated to a physical goal.  This person who would think of 10 miles as “only” and who would get up early just to get in her workout.  Not only all of that, but this same person who has abducted my soul, LOVES IT.  She absolutely delights in the training.  She delights in each new accomplishment.  She delights in running 10 miles and beating her personal goal time.  She delights in seeing all the other runners and walkers.  She delights in looking at the clock in the gym and seeing that it is only 5:45 in the morning.  She may be crazy, but the person who lies within me is really, really happy and I’m glad for her!

 

It makes me think of those people who have the cancers that TNT raises money to research and fight.  I am struck that while I am fascinated by this inner-strength that I’m seeing in my life, they too, must find reserves within their souls that shock them.  How else could they continue?  We have a few survivors on our team and when I see them run and watch them achieve I just think, “How did you get out of bed the morning after you were given the news that you have cancer?  How do you get on the track and run with such joy and passion?”  Whatever it is that lies within them amazes me.

 

So, where’s Carri?  She is in the midst of some kind of major transformation of self.  When I got into all of this, I thought it would be more a transformation of body but it really has become something much more important and elemental than that.  As Thoreau points out, it is not what lies behind or before that matters.  It is what lies within.  What lies within you?  Do you even know?  Do you want to come and find out? 

 

 

 

Pain is weakness leaving the body . . .

“Pain is weakness leaving your body. . .”

 

Where’s Carri?  Well on Saturday, I was running down Las Positas repeating the mantra I saw on a Marine’s t-shirt, “Pain is weakness leaving your body. . . pain is weakness leaving your body. . .” 

 

Yeah.  It was one of those mornings that was just a hard run.  I was cramping up.  I would do the whole breathing/applying some pressure thing and the cramp would go away only to reappear in some other inconvenient spot on my abdomen.  It just wasn’t going my way. 

 

The thing is, I kept going.  That is the piece that is important.  A year ago I would have probably given up or at least stopped to just walk the rest of the time.  I wouldn’t have taken the time to think about what I had done or was doing to cause the pain.  I wouldn’t have pondered my pre-run meal and whether I had drank enough water.  I certainly wouldn’t have chosen to “run through” the pain.  Snowball’s chance and all. 

 

Even as I was running (and cramping) I was thinking of a year ago.  I think I was up to walking about 3-4 miles a day in March 2006.  Saturday, in the midst of “weakness leaving my body” I ran 8.5 miles at a 10:52 pace.  That’s F-A-S-T for me and I can’t believe that was my time while I was duking it out with my uncooperative tummy.  A year ago, I certainly would not have been out there in little funny lycra/polyester butt-hugging pants running on the side of the road where God and all the motorists could see me.  Again, that snowball’s chance.

 

But here I am.  Learning to run through the pain, think it through, and trust that there is something to learn from it.  Doesn’t it sound like I’m talking about the death of a relationship or something?  It does remind me of my experience with the last guy I dated.  There was a lot of pain there when that was over, a lot of reflection, a lot of that whole “weakness leaving the body” when I had to look at my own patterns and my own issues that helped to lead to the “cramping” and demise of that relationship.  This is so similar but it is my body and I who are in the relationship and we are trying to discern where this relationship is going, what kinds of changes we need to be willing to struggle through to make it work, and whether we really want to be in this for the long haul. 

 

You need to know that my body is a bit of a stubborn bitch.  Seriously.  She and I (although I actually think of my thighs as male. . . how odd is that???) have really had quite the rows throughout this TNT experience.  She teams up with my self-doubting brain and they tag-team me about my inability and weaknesses.  On one run my thighs were more than vocal about their desire to walk.  I reminded them that I had taken over 70 pounds (at the time) off of the rest of my frame and if they weren’t careful, I would go home and eat that 70 pounds right back on and then take them out to run and see how they liked THAT. 

 

I won that battle and am getting better at winning the battles as my body is beginning to get on board with this new life.  We are beginning to understand that this new life, a life where I can run for an hour and not pass out and die, could be a lot more fun than the life where I could watch TV for an hour and want to pass out and die due to boredom. 

 

Saturday was one of those runs where my body and I were working as a team trying to get the brain to join us and help us figure out what was up with the tummy.  While the brain kept feeding us lines about how maybe we really weren’t runners and how our pace must be sucking and how it would probably be better to give up, blah blah blah, my body – my recalcitrant self – actually joined with me in the fight and we reminded the brain that PAIN IS WEAKNESS LEAVING THE BODY and we did not want to keep that weakness in the body.  (As I said, my body is stubborn and I think she is really getting into the whole adrenaline thing.)  It was fascinating to see this shift and realize that our relationship has grown to a whole new level.  We are working as a team to struggle through the hard stuff because we know it is worth it.  Bless that body of mine!

 

It is all a bizarre game of body, mind and soul, and as I continue to run and continue to play the game I am rewarded over and over again with little successes to write in my training log.  This week, I celebrate the ability to run through the pain and the knowledge that a little weakness – weakness of self-doubt and lack of perseverance – has left this body of mine and our next run will be stronger from the experience.

 

Where’s Carri?  In the midst of a growing relationship with her new body but being that you are not in relationship with that body (more the pity for you!) maybe you should ask yourself where are you and have you and your body learned the importance of being on the same team?

Running Alone with the Team

 

Where’s Carri?  I’ve been absent from my little blog for some time now.  My career as a junior high English teacher has kept me quite busy.  I have missed sharing with all of you my meta-cognitive musings about the wonders of training with TNT and what it feels like to go from being an ardent non-athlete to a marathon preparing runner. . .  

You’ve heard the saying of feeling alone in a crowd?  Well, I’ve discovered a unique twist on its implications.  I teach all day.  I have 6^th through 8^th grade students.  That is a period of life where everything, seriously everything, is about you.  Middle Schoolers have not developed any real sense of “others” in terms of other people’s needs, wants, hopes, etc.  When a middle schooler has your ear, he or she may ask you about your life but they won’t actually listen to the answer.  They my feign interest in a story you are telling but only if it will move them to a story to share about themselves.  They are truly narcissistic little beasts and I absolutely love them.  The struggle is that I must spend my whole day being “on.”  I earnestly believe teaching is just an acting gig without the stage hand or programs.  Regardless of how I might feel on a given day, the kids need to get the best I’ve got to give.  I need to maintain interest in their lives and their academics.  When their parents come to school I must be able to listen, hear and appropriately respond whether I have a headache, a twelve pound pile of papers to grade, or simply need to go to the bathroom.  It is a day spent surrounded by people who need and want things from you.

 

Now, I am positive that teaching is not the only job that feels like that, so any of you who are in helping professions or who work with people all day know what I’m talking about.

 

On the other end of things, I live alone.  When I come home after a day at work, I am alone.  I don’t even so much as have a cat.  (I have a few plants but, praise God, they don’t expect me to laugh at their stories or have an interesting story to share with them!)  My home time is quite and is completely controlled by my whims and needs.  For the most part this is actually bliss, but it is almost the complete opposite of my working day.

 

What I’ve discovered about running with TNT is that it is a perfect combination of my two worlds.  I get to be with a group of people, participate in a community activity, and yet still be able to be alone as I run.  I am not fast enough yet to be with the “official” runners but I am also too fast to stay and talk with the walkers, so I find myself on my own both on the track and on our Saturday runs.  It has turned out to be something that feeds my soul.  I love being able to say “hi” or make little comments to teammates as they pass me on the track or as I pass them.  I love starting and stopping Saturday runs with the group.  I love the sense of us being in it together, and I love how I can be in it “together” while running alone. 

 

Running has become the one place in my life that is solely about me.  I am able to shut off thoughts of school, grading, chores, family, bills, everything, and just run.  I have had a few people comment that it is a huge time commitment to train with TNT.  My response is if I told them I was spending an hour a day going to the spa would they feel like it was such a burden or would it be seen as an excess of self-indulgence?  Well, training with TNT has become that excess of self-indulgence for me.  I find myself thriving on being alone in a crowd: being part of the group without having to be the focus of the group and without having to be responsible for everyone else.  If my time never improved, if I never lost another pound, if there was no medal at the end of 26.2 miles, these biweekly opportunities to be surrounded by such great people while still being allowed to breathe and focus on myself, would make TNT worthwhile for me.  I am being refreshed by being alone in the crowd. 

 

What about you?  In what ways do you think TNT could be for you?  Maybe you shouldn’t ask “Where’s Carri?” but you should ask, “Where do I feel like I have time dedicated just to me?  Where am I able to put myself first?  Where am I in the midst of all my responsibilities?  Where am I and where would I like to be?”

Hold Fast to Your Dreams

Hold fast to your dreams For if dreams dieLife is a broken winged birdThat cannot fly 

Hold fast to your dreams For when dreams goLife is a barren field Frozen with snow ——-Langston Hughes 

Where am I?  I am contemplating what it means to have goals and dreams and how transformational those hopes can be.  When I got my first job teaching at a junior high I was fascinated by the adults.  I was amazed at how many of them just survived the day.  They were there and they did their jobs but there wasn’t that magical spark of joy or delight.  They approached teaching as a means to an end; it was a paycheck and was needed to cover all the responsibilities of life that threatened to drown them.  

This fact not only surprised me but it unnerved me as well.  At 23, I looked down the road 20 years and wondered, “Will I be them?  Will I get to that place in life where I am just surviving and dragging myself through each day?  Will I become one of the cogs in the wheel?  One of the soul-less drones?  Will my responsibilities consume my desires?”   

There were, however, those other teachers – the ones who delighted in each day, in each kid, in each book or math lesson.  They LOVED their jobs and their lives.  These people were dreamers.  They were always creating, always thinking, always looking for more.  They delighted me as much as they delighted their students.  These were the people for whom we all came to school.  We could survive the “survivors” as long as we were able to interact regularly with those who were LIVING! 

Now, sitting at 37 and looking backwards I see one of the most significant commonalities among those who seized life was that they were all dreamers.  They all believed life could be more.  It could be better.  For themselves, for our students, and for the world.  They also believed in what they were doing – it had purpose and meaning.  Those assignments and tests had a reason that went beyond the grade.  There was more to this life than just that moment, that lesson or that unit.  These inspirational people held fast to their dreams and they pulled others along into the delight of hope and possibility.   

What, you may ask, does any of this have to do with Team in Training and running in the San Diego Marathon?  Everything, of course!  I LOVE MY JOB.  I LOVE MY STUDENTS.  I could write for days on the ways they delight me.  That being said, training with TNT has reinvigorated my “dreamer” mode.  There has been something about learning to run and learning how to train for a definable goal that has refreshed my soul.  In this realm of almost-middle-age, life can begin to feel like a place where dreams have been achieved and now we watch others achieve theirs.  That becomes the world of a “broken winged bird.”  We were created for so much more than watching others dream – birds were born to fly.  To be grounded, to be robbed of that precious gift, is akin to living a life without dreams.  Humans have this amazing capacity to have hope and to look to the future with expectation.  TNT has reminded me of that and I have watched in my own life as the transformation has occurred.   

I went for a run the other day following my old walking course through downtown
Santa Barbara.  I was surprised by all these little changes that have taken place over the last couple months.  This one family has finally begun to landscape their yard.  (Yippee for the neighbors!)  Another house has added a deck.  This one place has finished a rock wall that has been in process for over six months and in one lot there is a house that was never there before.  It was such a surprise and delight to see how the neighborhood has transformed.  As I was running I had to smile to think of the transformations in my own life.  This was a route I use to walk and here I was running.  The funny thing is that the running isn’t really the most significant transformation, it is the sense that I can choose to do anything.  I can dream anything and pursue it.  My perceptions of possibilities have been transformed to a place that I thought was reserved for my students – 13 year olds who haven’t been defeated enough to stop believing. . . I look at the future through a different lens now.  I have a list of things I want to pursue, a list that would never have existed if I didn’t run with TNT.  There are still dreams waiting for me to chase them down, to make sure that the ground in my soul does not become barren and frozen in snow.   

The double blessing is that not only does TNT give me dreams for my own life but also dreams for others.  Dreams that we really will cure cancer.  Dreams that some of my teammates who are currently battling cancer or are survivors will be able to continue to live life because I was able to help in some small way.  Dreams that a group of people can come together for a purpose and truly make a difference.  These are the kinds of dreams for which we were created – dreams to be the change we wish to see in the world.  What a delight to be a part of this bigger dream.  

Well, I’ve run out of steam.  I am really supposed to be packing.  My 8^th graders and I are leaving in two hours for our annual 11 day Historic Tour.  It will be a radically different adventure for me this year than it has in the past.  Not only am I bringing this revived outlook on life, I am also bringing my running clothes, magic shoes, and about 100 pounds less of myself.  (I must say I am more than excited to get on a plane and have my bum be only in my own seat as opposed to my seat and part of my neighbors – - – I guess whatever neighbor is next to me should be pretty excited about this transformation as well!)  May you all be out there hunting down those dreams while I am gone and while you may wonder, “Where’s Carri right now? 
Virginia?  D.C.?  N.Y.C.?”  you should probably ask yourself, “Where am I?  Trapped like a broken-winged bird or soaring with the eagles?”    

Come soar with us!Carri 

Envy and a Broken Wrist

“Where am I you ask?”  Well, I can tell you where I wasn’t.  I wasn’t in the Roses to La Playa race this past Sunday and that bums me out!  A dear, and very pregnant, friend was visiting from out of town and we were heading towards Cajun Kitchen for breakfast when I saw the runners heading down

State Street

.  I dragged my friend to the race and was able to see several of my TNT buddies running toward the beach under a bright blue and beautiful sky.  I was instantly and insanely jealous that I was not among the participants! 

This envy is hysterical to me when I think back to about five summers ago when I praised God that I broke my wrist so I could get out of running around a track. . .  

One of my best girlfriends, Colleen Rene, participated in the
Santa Barbara mini-triathlon several years ago.  She was training with a group called Moms in Motion.  Now, I have known Colleen since we were in fifth grade in a small town in the
Central Valley called
Atwater.  We both came to UCSB for college, lived together for 8 years, and on and on.  There are few people who have played a larger role in my adult life than Colleen Rene.  That is important information because when Colleen signed on with Moms in Motion she asked me to join with her.  She said the mini-triathlon was only a 2 mile run, a 6 mile bike course, and a 500 meter ocean swim.  In my mind I thought, “Oh, is that all?”  I couldn’t believe she was even asking me!  She had known me since 5^th grade!  She should have known that I was NOT an athlete, I was NOT a mom, and I certainly did NOT have any intention of being “IN MOTION.”  Seriously, I thought she was out of her gourd.   

However, friendships like that, for a codependent like me, lead us to agree to do STUPID things.  Colleen is a “team girl.”  She played water-polo in high school and at UCSB.  She likes doing those athletic things with others.  I was a solid media girl.  I watched a lot of movies in high school and college. I liked eating popcorn and doing nothing with others.  But, here she was, my dearest friend, asking me to join her on this team. 

I’ve got to hand it to her.  She either did a fabulous job of selling it (“No, Carri, you don’t have to be a mom.  That’s just the name.  There are lots of non-moms. . .”  “Not all of the women are athletes.  There are a lot who are just wanting to get fit. . .” “blah, blah, blah, blah.”) or she knew how deeply and irrevocably codependent I was and used it against me.   

The bottom line is I joined up with her.  We began the training and Colleen was euphoric.  I, on the other hand, would cry as I drove to UCSB for the Saturday morning practices.  I was easily in the 260 pound range, (at 6’2”) had NEVER run in my life, and DREADED having these athletic people all around me watching me suffer and suck wind as I struggled around the track.  It really was one of the worst experiences in my little unhealthy life.   

In high school my best friend and I would ditch “the mile” every week in PE.  My brother had a saying, “Svobodas don’t run.  We’re too tall and we look stupid.”  I eagerly adopted the mantra and never ran.  Period.  That is until TNT took over my psyche last season . . . but I’ll get to that in a minute. 

Let’s get back to the Moms in Motion fiasco.  I need to say that these women were all very, very nice.  I just was not in a place to be able to enjoy it.  Have I mentioned how much I dreaded going?  Yeah.  D-R-E-A-D-E-D.  Add to that the fact that I felt guilty for dreading something that Colleen reveled in.  I knew I was doomed to hell for being such an unsupportive and bad friend.   

However, rather than packing my bags for an eternity of suffering, God rescued me!  I was teaching summer school and on the first day of class I managed to fall (while walking) and break my right wrist.  (I told you I was not athletic and appreciated a good, comfy couch!  Sometimes walking can get the best of a person who is like that. . . )  It was such a BLESSING!  I think it was about three or four hours of pain when it finally dawned on me:  I don’t have to do the triathlon!!!  Oh the bliss.  The release.  The wonder of injury!  I could get out of having to be “in motion” and still be able to appear to be this great, positive, supportive friend who had been willing to try something new.   

If you are still reading, you should be wondering, what happened????  How did this girl go from praising God for a broken wrist to seething with envy over the Roses to La Playa participants?  That, my friends, is the key question.  How did that happen??? 

Well, it happened through a lot of different ways but one of the keys was Team in Training.  (Cue the emotionally uplifting commercial music. . .)  I joined TNT in order to save lives (see article titled “Hero Complex”).  I didn’t join to “become a fleet-footed god.”  I was losing weight (a different story on a different blog) and I wanted to do something healthy but relatively easy.  Even though the broken wrist seems to be an indictment against this next statement, I knew I could walk.  I had no delusions about running but I knew I could walk and I have some pretty fabulous endurance for a couch connoisseur so I signed up for the SB ½ with TNT.  Little did I know that I would become a runner.  Little did I know that by simply doing what I was told, showing up at track, on Saturday mornings, and following the training schedule, I would go from someone who believed “Svobodas don’t run” to someone who would look at people running down the middle of State Street and think, “Damn!  I wish I was running with them!”   

Life is a fascinating journey.  If we don’t allow for transformation, we are doomed to have little, narrow, suffocating lives.  I look back at the broken wrist bliss and I am grateful for the changes that have occurred in my life.  I am grateful for Colleen Rene who tried to involve me in something so positive and who has supported me fully as I have worked with TNT.  I am grateful for the opportunity to continue to change and grow and I am grateful for my TNT team, my coaches, and my friends who make training such a rich and delightful part of my world.   

Well, we know where I am.  I am jealous to have missed a beautiful run this past Sunday.  But maybe you shouldn’t be asking “where’s Carri?”  Maybe you should be asking “Where am I and how could my life be transformed?”  

RUNNING for a cure –Carri

Let the Training Begin

Where am I?  I feel like I’m in Thoreau’s woods.  There is a portion of one of his quotations that delights my soul.  It says, “I went into the woods to live deliberately, to live deep, to suck out all the marrow of life, and not when I come to die discover I had not lived. . .”  Training for San Diego Rock-n-Roll has begun and it feels a bit like sucking the marrow out of life. 

Tonight was our first track work-out.  It was fantastic.  It was fantastic for so many reasons – the size of the group, the energy level, the work-out itself, the weather – but the thing that inspired me, the thing that brings me beyond the sense of surviving this life and takes me into the realm of really living this life, was being given the opportunity to witness so many people literally take those first steps on a life changing journey. 

I’m greatly blessed to have several dear friends on the team who are walking the
San Diego ½.  They have varying degrees of excitement and anxiety.  How they delighted my soul tonight as I watched them find their pace, find walking partners, find the groove of being on the track, and find the sense of self that will carry them through this season.  I wanted to leap and shout for joy as they went around the track.  I wanted to let everyone know that these women are heroes, conquering fears, committing time they don’t have, investing in their health, raising money for cancer research, and choosing to do something they’ve never done before.  Oh the courage!   

Likewise, I got to see the backside of some amazing athletes.  People who flow over the ground.  Winged footed gods.  I watch as they pass me by and I am amazed at their grace, their form and, of course, their speed!  The walkers inspire me, the runners amaze me.  When I joined TNT last season I feared that the runners would intimidate me and I would quit in some overwhelming sense of despair and failure.   Then I watched them.  It is like watching a dance.  You cannot help but want to dance with them, to experience some version of their euphoria and their elegance.  It has been a surprise to discover that one can actually enjoy being passed on the track by the fleet of foot! 

Thoreau wanted to suck out the marrow of life.  To live it all.  To live it well.  Not to simply survive.  On the track tonight there was a sense of living well.  We’ve decided to set personal goals.  Commit time and energy.  To take the risk to pursue something that may be beyond our current abilities.  We are all going to push ourselves and one another to do more and to do it better than we could on our own.  Not only are we wanting to live our lives but we want to be a part of an organization committed to helping others live theirs.  In our world of work, television, emails, and errands, it is something glorious to have a quest, a grail to seek, a life to LIVE, and a track upon which one can set her magic shoes and run. 

The question tonight isn’t “Where’s Carri?”  The question is “Where are you?  Have you found your forest?  Are you sucking the marrow out of life?”

Magic Shoes

Where am I? I’m sitting here in bliss. Happy about my new shoes and their magical powers. Curious? Well, here’s a bit of back-story.

When I joined TNT, I went to Santa Barbara Running to get some decent walking shoes. SB Running does a “shoe clinic” for the local TNT chapter. They watch how you move when you walk or run and then they prescribe the right shoes for your stride. All of this was a great mystery to me. I was used to going to any ‘ol shoe store and just buying a pair that fit my big feet, were as cute as possible, and were expensive enough to indicate that they were a “good” tennis shoe.

Well, I walked in to SB Running and presented my old shoes to Joe. I explained that I was looking to walk in the SB ½ with TNT. Joe took one look at the shoes I had and, honestly, I thought the man was going to break down. He was personally offended that anyone would feel justified in selling me those shoes. He talked about my stride and how I didn’t need these expensive inserts. He discussed the padding and the way the shoe was built and how I didn’t need the additional weight and that the structure didn’t support my foot well enough and on and on. (It is important to note that at that point in my life I definitely did not feel like this enlightened, powerful athlete. Instead I felt a bit like a dork and Joe’s knowledge made him appear to be a god.) I obediently nodded my head as Joe explained what kind of shoe I needed and then he disappeared into the abyss of the magical storage room and came back with my super-human shoes. Joe said these Brooks shoes – a brand I had never hear of in my life – would be perfect for me. Honestly, at that point, the man could have given me flip flops and I would have believed him.

That first pair – my official marathon shoes – were bliss. I felt like I was floating along the road as I walked my neighborhood. When I showed up to the first track work-out I thought, “Everyone must be admiring my amazing shoes. They must be able to tell that my shoes are special. They are magical. AND, they are pretty darn cute. . .”

Time has passed since that first pair of Brooks. I actually took their picture when they had to be let out to pasture. (I laid them next to their replacements and documented the tread loss. I mourned their departure but easily fell head over heels for the fresh, springy new pair of magical shoes.)

So back to where I am now. I got a new pair of magic shoes yesterday. Ohhh, I was sooooo excited to pick them up. Joe had to order them for me because, well, I don’t know why, but I like to believe it is because they’re special. Anyway, I picked them up and they are even the “latest edition” of my favorite shoe so they have a new accent color – even cooler than before. As I packed them into my gym bag we had a debriefing about my hope for my first workout with them: we were going to run on the treadmill.

This is a new activity for me. I started to run on the treadmill over Christmas break. It was a bizarre sensation but I LOVE how you can set a pace and then the little belt just keeps it steady: very convenient.

All day at work today I was thinking about the gym and being able to run in my new magic shoes. Seriously. I was plotting how far I wanted to go and at what setting. Here’s the breakdown of the plan:

· 2 miles at a 12 minute mile pace

· 1 mile at an 11 minute mile pace

· 1 mile at the 12 minute pace

· 2 laps at a 20 minute pace but on a 8 or 9 incline

· 2 laps at a 10 minute pace

· and then, if still standing, a lap or more of cool-down until my heart rate was reasonable

For those of you faster runners this is not the monumental fete for you that it is for me. For me, this kind of work-out requires magic shoes. And, as fate would have it, I have a pair!

Boy did I feel powerful today! The first two miles were like a walk in the park. Then I went into that third mile and thought, “okay, I can do this.” Then I noticed this very cute, very tall, very athletic man four treadmills down and suddenly my magic shoes began to sing. They were chanting, “Can’t you see how fabulous we are? Hey, running boy, look at us – we’re running . . .” Ah, yes, my shoes and I were one; they were on my side. They wouldn’t let me pass out and die in front of the cute boy. Good shoes. Good, good magic shoes.

It was a fabulous run. My new magic shoes did me proud. The cute man should have gotten a tip for his existence and tonight, I’m having ice cream. ) All in all, a terrific way to break in my new magic shoes.

So, where am I? I am on a mini-vacation in the land of “Good Work-out Bliss.” Have you visited that place lately with your own magic shoes? If not, maybe you shouldn’t be asking “Where’s Carri?” but instead, “Where am I and where are my magic shoes?”

Signing up for the Cure

Where am I? I’m sitting here thinking about a quote from Eleanor Roosevelt. She said, “Do one thing each day that scares you.” Different people are scared of different things but to purposefully face those fears and to persevere through them takes the same quality of courage regardless of the person or the issue.

On January 16^th a group of people went to Santa Barbara Running for a TNT Information Meeting. I think there were 30 or so people there. At this particular meeting most of them were women and several of them were what I call “mom-age” women. (I actually think there were a handful of grandmas as well!) I know a few of the ladies who came and they have faced things that would terrify me: let’s start with having children and then being responsible to raise them! Yikes! One gal has seen her husband through major illness, another walked beside a daughter who made some pretty harmful choices as a teen, another has lived through divorce, still another has raised a son on her own, and the list goes on. These ladies have lived life, have faced challenges, and have come through them with grace, dignity, and pizzazz!

Yet, here they were, at an informational meeting, struggling with fear. Fears over their abilities to complete a 13.1 or 26.2 mile run. Fears over whether they would be able to raise the $2,400 for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. Fears surrounding what training will be like and if there will be someone to help them along. Fears about their ability to succeed.

And yet, as Analise shared about the program, Jeff and Sarah shared about the training, and we all shared about the fund-raising, I watched as their fears transformed into excitement and a sense of possibility. What they realized is that TNT is not about your success or failure; instead it is about our success. We are a team. You are not alone in your training. You are not alone in your fundraising. We don’t just abandon you to the harsh elements of the track and allow you to fail. We don’t preach about the importance of raising money for Leukemia & Lymphoma and then do nothing to help out. I watched as the people in the meeting began to see what it is to be a part of the team.

Then Teresa, one of our honored teammates shared. She shared about being diagnosed with Chronic Myelogenous Leukemia at the age of 24. She shared how money raised by TNT funded the lab that invented Gleevec, the chemotherapy drug she takes. She shared about a period in her life when she wasn’t able to stand, let alone walk, due to the treatment she was undergoing to fight her leukemia. Teresa shared that she is participating in the
San Diego marathon this June.

The ladies in the room were transformed. I believe their fears were still pretty palpable but what I saw was a shift from people who were leaning toward allowing their fears to dictate their lives to people who were not going to let their fears stop them from being a part of something spectacular.

What they don’t know yet, but I do – as do other TNT participants – is that not only will they succeed but this success will empower them to face other fears, to choose other challenges, and to look toward opportunities for growth and change in ways they never expected. They will see the wisdom in Eleanor Roosevelt’s challenge. How do we grow or how do our lives change if we allow fear to rule us? For that matter, how will our world change, how will cures be found, peace be made, hope be discovered if we don’t face those things that scare us?

Ultimately, do we want to live lives controlled by our doubts, worries, and fears? I don’t. Do you? I think 29 people signed up at that information meeting. 29 people who decided to do something that scared them. 29 people who will raise a total of $69,600 to help fight cancer. 29 more people on the Santa Barbara TNT team. You’ll be hearing more about them as we train together, support raise together, and face our fears together. But this begs the question. Do you really want to be asking “Where’s Carri?” or should you be asking “Where am I and how can I be part of this team?”

Hero Complex

Where am I? Well it depends. If I’m on a plane and the stewardess is explaining how to use the lap belt, I am sitting up straight and tall and I am looking around for those who will need my assistance when the plane crashes. Seriously. I am not kidding. I will look for the elderly woman with the huge knitting bag. I will pay attention to where she puts the monster pile of yarn so that when I need to lift her out of her seat and carry her to the exit door, I will be able to grab her yarn and knitting needles so she has something to do while on the island. Seriously. I will be scoping out the woman who has the three screaming children who will give me another fifty reasons to add to my list of “why I praise God I don’t have kids.” I will watch where she puts the formula for the baby and determine which out-of-control child I may have to pin to his seat in order to put the oxygen mask over his nose. I will assess which other passengers may be of help when the time comes to unload the squealing brood. I swear to you, if I am on a plane that is what I’m doing.

You see, I have a serious hero-complex. I want to save the world and I often believe that I can. Luke Skywalker, Frodo Baggins, Jesus and I are all going to get the rest of you through this life safely.

I know, you’re saying to yourself, isn’t this the same chick who in the earlier installment had only just recently managed to walk without breaking her wrist? Yep. The same 6’2” heroine at your disposal. And even if I will never be a ballerina, I am doing my part to add heroism back into daily life.

You see, I am training with Team-in-Training to run the San Diego Rock-n-Roll
Marathon. While this may not sound like Superman’s ability to literally turn back time, it is heroic in its own right. Everyone on my team will be raising $2,400 to participate in the marathon. This money will not be spent on making us uber-cool superhero costumes or even masks. This money will go to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society for research and education. To date the Society has raised over $680 million dollars to fight blood cancers.

Now you must wonder, why would a super-hero of my stature choose to put her super-power energy into this organization. It’s pretty simple for me. Join me in a moment for pondering the palm-pilot. Yes, the palm-pilot. Now, I don’t actually own one (I don’t even own a cell phone and it is somewhat miraculous that I even have this computer on which to type to you) but I have friends who do and I get the general idea behind them. Basically, palm-pilots can hold your entire life: phone, computer, email, schedule, favorite movies, songs, menus, etc. I think in the near future they are going to figure out how to allow you to store your best friend, your favorite outfit and maybe even your pets so you can just whip them out whether you are in the grocery store, on the I5 or in a movie theater. Ah, the sweet smell of technology. Not only all of that but won’t these things soon been the size of your thumb-nail or possibly implanted behind your ear? Why would I have you consider such a thing? Well, because the way I look at it we have some phenomenally intelligent people in our country who can create these almost-magical pieces of technology which, while possibly making our lives easier do not actually make our lives longer (and in some cases I would argue they make our lives shorter.) So what, you ask? Well, there are people out there who are smart enough to do these tasks, wouldn’t it stand to reason that there are other people, within the medical fields, who – if given the resources – would be smart enough to figure out the cure for cancer? Doesn’t that make sense to anyone else? When one ponders the abilities of those in technology doesn’t it stand to reason that the capabilities of mankind to actually be victorious over cancer should be a realistic hope? Doesn’t it seem that if we actually invested our money into a cure – as much money as we invest in our technology – that we could reasonably expect to see measurable successes?

I think it does. I think there is a cure. I think there are people smart enough to figure it all out and I think they need money. I think the rest of us need trusted conduits such as the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society to help us help them and through that to help those who battle blood cancers in very personal ways.

I didn’t get involved with Team-in-Training because I knew someone with a blood cancer. I got involved with TNT because I have a hero complex. I want to beat cancer in the lives of those people who are on this plane of life with me and who may not be able to get to safety as easily as I can. I believe we can save lives and as I raise money, I do it in faith that we will.

That leaves us, again, with the more important question. It isn’t “where is Carri?” it is “what is Carri doing and what could I do to become a super-hero?”

Running for a Cure-

Carri

The First Step

Where am I? Before we get into where I am, you may need to know about where I was.

One year ago, January 2006, I decided to start walking. Not walking-for-the-first-time-in-my-life walking but walking-to-possibly-decrease-the-considerable-size-of-my-derriere walking. I had turned 36 in December of 2005 and realized that not only wasn’t I dead yet but there was a pretty strong chance that I may live to see the far side of fifty. The concern was in what condition would I find myself at that far side? Would I be able to enjoy a walk on the beach? Would I be able to . . . okay, let’s get real – would I be able to get out of bed on my own or even lift the remote for the television? Seriously. At the amount of space my body was trying to occupy and the rate at which it wanted to claim more real estate, I was worried that I wouldn’t make it much beyond that fifty mark without finding myself in great need of professional care. This option was not particularly appealing to me.

So, last January I decided I would walk. There are a lot of athletic endeavors that are non-options for a 6’2” female who has not a single athletic bone in her body and weighs the same as Miami Dolphin lineman. Ballet was quickly ruled out. Team sports often involve such activities as catching and throwing: not my strengths. Running involved, well, running. As I considered the list, walking won the prize for being cheap and do-able. I knew I could walk. (Granted, I broke my wrist in 2003 while walking but I was talking at the time and I figured I would avoid such hazards by simply walking alone.)

As I was saying, I knew I could walk. Maybe not far and certainly not terribly fast, but I could walk and that was a gift to not be overlooked. I set an achievable goal of 30 minutes. I would walk for 15 minutes away from my house, turn around, and walk home. That was my big get-fit-so-you-can-get-out-of-bed-at-the-age-of-fifty scheme. I think I made it about a mile and a half. Maybe two.

Where am I now? Well, there’s a lot more to the tale but I’m sure you’ve got dinner going, a favorite television show to watch, or some weeds to pull so I’ll just give you a bottom line for now and you can check in for more of the story later. Yesterday at my Team-in-Training track work-out I ran my 4 miles at a 12 minute mile pace. While that is not an amazing time for anyone who has been a runner his or her whole life, for me it is like light-speed. I ran the first mile of my life on Tuesday, August 22, 2006 during a track work-out with Team-in-Training. I participated in the
Santa Barbara ½
Marathon on November 4, 2006 at a consistent 13.30 pace.

So where am I? I’m in a lot better place than I was one year ago today. I’ve not only decreased the size of my derriere but I’ve increased my confidence, my endurance, my social circle, and my joy. I’ve learned so much about myself and what it is to live and achieve things which were hitherto unachievable. In the last year I have redefined myself.

Several months ago, after a Saturday morning run of 2 hours, a dear friend teasingly asked me, “Where is my friend Carri?” I told her that I had killed that Carri and left her dead on the track. I was kidding only in part. That Carri, who for 35 years believed she had to live life in one way, is dead. The new Carri is training for the June 3, San Diego Rock-n-Roll
Marathon.

My choices got me here but one of the most significant choices I made was to join up with Team-in-Training. That choice connected me with coaches and mentors, accountability partners, and new friends. It provided a quantifiable goal and support needed to reach it. And it made my personal quest for a healthier life into a quest for greater health and hope for the hundreds of thousands of people whose lives are altered and often ended due to blood cancers such as leukemia and lymphoma.

While there is much I have to say on that subject I’m sure your dinner has burned by now, your television program is half over and the weeds have exponentially multiplied so I will let you go. I do want to point out that the question you really need to ask isn’t “Where is Carri” but instead you should be asking, “Where am I and where do I want to be?”

Running for a cure-

Carri