Tag: memories

#TinkRuns2024, hustle, inspire

Feeling 26.2

2chicksandapen

The alarm came very early. 4:30am to be exact. An early breakfast. Salmon with rice and a banana. Then off to fun parking by 6:00 am.  Parking lot to start line was about a half mile walk. Even got to visit the pink porta-potty along the way. The day was already an adventure and I didn’t even have coffee nor did the sun rise yet.

The start was full of nerves, positivity and lots of glitter. People watching was so fun. Also traded glitter for bracelets with a fun lady at the start line. Off we went just after 7am. Six girls. 6 different paces. 6 different strategies to complete the marathon. Ages 35-52, and I was the token old chick. I was planning to be last as the oldest but fate had me finish in the the #4 spot for us girls.  I was so content with last but it’s ok I’m not sad about 4th.

The first bridge was awesome! Not the climb but the four women revving their motorcycles and giving high fives to start the race off with a little engine rev. It was so bad ass and the smell of gas fumes was prominently floating in the air. So unexpected but cool.

The next several miles I just jammed to some music and muddled through the miles. There might have even been the scent of weed in some of the parks we shuffled through. I barely looked at my phone during this time so I could conserve battery life. I did take in the scenery. I talked to many people. I cheered on some folks. I watched a few runners with disabilities maneuver the course with their guides. Another cool thing to take in. I was just in awe as a kept on trucking.

We ran through parks. We ran on a college campus and its track. We ran the city streets with cobblestone. We had a drum line play for us. Even got tunes from a Louisiana-style music group. We had acrobats doing a show on the course. I got water from a princess. I swapped high fives with strangers on the down-and-back portion of the course. Just so many amazing memories before the half way point. I almost forgot I was mid-race.

Mile 14.9 I met my friends for pit stop. The roadie crew had a wagon full of items for each runner to replenish. This is where I got my caffeine zap from an Alani drink and a spray down of bio freeze on my calves and butt. It was a recharge station for sure. Conveniently located at the Savannah Bananas stadium so we even had cheerleaders in baseball gear chick was so fun. The nana bananas!

Forrest Gump was on scene to say run, run, run. So many people outside their houses cheering and giving snacks. My favorite was a sweet guy with a bucket of Starbursts for back of the course sugar boost. So thoughtful. I even had a Girl Scout cookie from the sweetest troop of cheerleaders. I almost forgot I ran on the highway. Seemed like it took forever and the pavement was gross. All the little pebbles got in your shoes and it was direct sun beating down on you for what seemed like forever. A first and only time but definitely one to remember.

The highway leg was the scenery for the hardest part of the marathon like miles 18-21 when many participants hit a wall. Funny thing was I felt good. I decided to make that my spirit time. I cheered on those puking over the guard rail. Those taking a break that need that verbal motivation to go another step. It seemed like my purpose work and it definitely made the yucky miles tolerable. I might have slowed my pace some but at this point I knew I was finishing so why not help others feel that same joy.

I came out of this highway from hell experience feeling pretty good about being a few miles from finishing. I went through a water sprinkler to cool off. I saw an enormous pet pig on a leash. Yes, that’s for real. I heard a teen jamming to girls run this world on her DJ table in her front hard while her dad was on the lawn chair cheering. It was awesome to see. I felt like the perfect jam as I ran by. At this point the earlier finishers are walking past you as they return to their cars or homes. The encouragement was so uplifting.

Then the whispers from the sidelines. The guys along the way that almost whisper in your ear. You’re doing something special keep going. You are amazing and strong. Believe in yourself. Think about what you are doing. Many can’t. Celebrate this moment. So many comments like this.

Then the funny signs. The girl with the “I heard it’s long and hard”.:…and her boyfriend’s complementary sign of what she said. Punny! And then there was the “Trump is a rapist” sign. Odd placement but I guess it had an audience. The protestors with signs saying the race sponsor (Milk) was exploiting cows and women! I really enjoyed the funny and motivational ones like “be the runner your dogs believe you are.”

Last water stop. A little time with some pals I ended up meeting at the end of their race. For me it was a solo finish. I pushed on ahead to cross the line alone. A rite of passage so to speak: my race: my pace. My story: my journey. One hundred percent me. I won the day. I’m giving you a glimpse in this recap.

I beat the physical odds.

I overcame mental odds.

I ran tired.

I ran thirsty.

I ran with the biggest blister on the ball of my foot for about three miles. That counts for pain and an awkward gait which just throws off your mojo. I just kept moving. Crossing that finish line was rewarding. A celebration of so much experience. My Rocky triumph shadow photo with .2 miles to go. I still have gas in my tank. Surprise, surprise.

I am now in the 1% club. I completed a marathon. A grueling 26.2 miles on various road textures. Many will never try. Some may try and fail. Others may sign up and never show up. It’s a thing. I heard 1500 didn’t show today. Just crazy to think about.

Going to bed.

Exhausted.

Fulfilled.

Triumphant.

Proud.

I was meant to do this race. 

I was called to tell the world about it.

Wonder what’s next on my bucket list?

#TinkRuns2024, challenges

My First Marathon

2chicksandapen

So much anticipation has led up to this point. Specifically every day after my half marathon until now. 12 days of am I ready? Do I have everything? Should I start packing? How will I do away from home? Will my pit crew be annoyed with me? The course is ready, but am I?

Today is the day.

The big day.

My first and only marathon quest.

My bright idea for age 52!

A dooms day of sorts. Can I do this? Why did I sign up for this? Am I crazy? So many questions but the reality is I am here. I have several friends by my side. We are doing this. The months, days and hours leading up to this point have been full of so many memories. Just being here is an accomplishment for each of us. Nobody wants to think about a DNF (did not finish) but it’s entirely possible. At least it’s not a bunch of hills.

Now we get to take these steps today and prove to ourselves that we can finish what we started and trained for. Or in my case what we barely trained for. That our bodies are capable and we can do hard things. One by one we will cross our own barriers before we finish today. Our stories are different. Our training regimens were different. Our ages are different. However we all put on our racing shoes and number looking to achieve the same goal with thousands of others today. Completing the marathon. Becoming one of the 1% club.

Signing up alone is a big step.

Training is a huge commitment.

Mental toughness is required.

Patience and grace is much needed.

Nutrition and hydration is paramount.

Clothing must be well thought out and tested!

Shoes and socks need to be broken in.

So many little steps before the big day.

Then you may need to circle back to the mental toughness multiple times in this preparation process. It’s a given.

When it’s time to show up, that’s another hurdle.

When you need to find your pace and really sync into it for the duration, that’s commitment.

Pain will be involved for most of the process.

Staying consistent for 26.2 miles is straight out courage!

Will your electronics last?

Do I have all that it takes? Not sure yet. I know I can get half way for sure. I’m sure I can go a little more as well, but can I finish? That’s my goal. Only me.

Only me to rely on!

Only me can say it’s time to quit.

Only me can cross that finish line.

Only me can motivate myself ultimately….

Stay tuned for the next post in this series showcasing my epic day.

fitness and nutrition, travel

Little Rock Half

2chicksandapen

My goals this year have me embracing the idea of a racecation…seeing the country (and maybe the world) by traveling to great races all over.

The first installment of racecations took me to Little Rock, Arkansas for the Little Rock Half Marathon. I had several firsts on this trip…first half marathon in 5 years (and second half ever!). First time in the state of Arkansas. First half marathon of my racecation series. And to make it extra special, my oldest daughter ran her first half marathon with me, along with her long time best friend (who also ran her first!)

It may seem like a random race to travel to, but once we figured out that my daughter’s friend could make it work (she lives not far from Little Rock), it all came together. I had earmarked this race because it was rated high based on crowd support, organization, fun, a not-super-hellish course, cool medals / swag, and a generous time limit. I am definitely a “back of the pack” runner by most standards, and freaking out about being taken off the course for moving too slow is something I don’t want to worry about.

I’ll be writing about several races this year, so I’ll focus on the highlights of each:

This race has a different theme each year. The current theme is dinosaurs which was a little funny, but I loved how the expo and all the local neighborhoods embraced the theme with enthusiasm. People ran in dinosaur costumes. Some of the pacers were dressed as Flintstones. The medal, known for being exceptionally large and heavy, was a sparkly triceratops. Easily a favorite.

There were great groups and signs along the way. Even a lipstick stop at the end where a well-known sorority was handing out lipsticks to make sure your finish was picture-perfect. The course was relatively flat. I loved running over the bridge, which also allowed us to cheer for the faster runners and wheelchair racers who were on their way back over as we made our way across.

I have been training with the Galloway run-walk-run method. The group of people running near me were in the same vein. It was pretty cool to hear a chorus of beeps and bells throughout the run and see people of all shapes and sizes getting their run on. I felt like I was in the right place. The weather was awesome, cool but not cold.

I had a great race and loved being congratulated by my daughter and her BFF at the end. They enjoyed their time together…it’s fun to see the two of them as girls who enjoy taking on adventures and challenges together too. Fit and adventurous friends are the best! Such great memories.

The only downside to this race was actually the town. Little Rock didn’t seem to have too much to do. There were hikes and caves and outdoor sports, but we couldn’t really take advantage of those since we were saving our strength for the race. We did enjoy Arkansas cheese dip after the event and an ice cream flight. I would 100% run this race again! Next stop: Disney!

adventure

Bryson City

2chicksandapen

A quick road trip popped up on the calendar. The destination was tucked away in the mountains of North Carolina in a place called Bryson City. My first time to the area and I really had no expectations. A little fun. A little friends. Some time away.

The map took a twist and planted my RV on a narrow dirt road winding around the river. Impressive by sight of beauty, but more nerve wracking to be a passenger looking over the embankment of a narrow gravel road just after rain had hit. Oncoming trucks squeezing into the already thin road definitely made me bite my nails a few times.

My first stop was the rustic campground I booked on a whim. Not much more than a gravel pad laid by a creek with a sewer, water and power connection. The few bells and whistles consisted of three log benches by a firepit and a picnic table by each site. Simplicity. Quiet. Efficient for a short stay. Rain on the roof top by night. Coffee by the creek by morning. Topped off with a great group picnic in the afternoon after our big adventure.  With little planning the rustic camp spot ended up being the perfect destination and photo backdrop.

In between the rest and picnicking was was the adventure that brought me to Bryson City. White water rafting with 12 friends on the Nantahala River. Two boats. Two guides. Safety training. Life jackets. Paddles. Good to head to the drop point. Wait! We are one guide short. Not even sure how this happens. Somehow I was volunteered to guide a raft down a river I’ve never been on. What on Earth? I drew the short straw for this one.

I didn’t hesitate. Maybe I didn’t think about how much responsibility it came with. Maybe I didn’t trust others with my life. I don’t even know why the company allowed the customer to guide the boat. Nonetheless it happened. I had a great group of brave souls to do it with. We all paddled. We all stayed in the boat. We had an amazing time: memories to last a lifetime. Adrenaline to last for days. Pictures to prove I was a captain for a couple of hours!

Get yourself a group of adventurous pals and do things. Take risks. Be brave. Step out of your comfort zone. You will never grow or know what you are capable of if you don’t.

We conquered these rapids on July 16, 2023. We had a young one on the boat at age 17. A vintage captain at age 51. A non-swimmer. Five first-time rafters. A nurse, just in case. A smorgasbord of a crew but a damn good one at that. Living life to the fullest. One adventure at a time.

Travel buddies may change but fun is always on the menu. Hope you enjoyed a glimpse of our adventure through this post. This also makes the 8th state I’ve camped in with my RV. Slowly filling up my state map. Alabama and Arkansas are on the radar for future trips. Going for the left A states that are nearby.

family, mental health

The Cruelest Month

2chicksandapen

“April is the cruelest month.”

Maybe it is for T. S. Eliot. But for me, the cruelest month is July.

You might think I’d love July, really. It’s the heart of summer, and I am a teacher. Pool days and party nights, right? But these days, we go back to start a new school year in July, so the turn of the calendar brings a bit of dread. But even more so, July haunts me with bad memories.

It starts with the Tour de France, which usually kicks off in the first few days of July. The Tour was a big deal each year of my youth. Long before the days of streaming video, my dad and brother would get up in the middle of the night to watch the race. Throughout the month of July, it was always on in our house…if not the live stage, a recap or rerun or highlight show. Probably not surprisingly, I eventually developed a fascination with Lance Armstrong and the US Postal team (and the other teams he rode for.) Many a summer hour was spent watching the peloton float through the French countryside.

The family love for the Tour and its fanfare was eventually overshadowed by grief.

July is the month when I lost both of my parents. When I got the call that my mother’s short illness had ended, I had the Tour de France on my TV as I got ready to go over and sit at her bedside for my daily ritual. Four years later, the very same week, when I stood by my father’s bedside as he took his last breaths, the Tour de France was on the hospital TV.

These anniversaries are ones I carry in my heart. Some years I almost forget them. But then, more often than not, my heart gets heavy. Deep sighs erupt from out of the blue. Even when my brain is protecting me from sadness, my body remembers.

If only I could put a sign on my forehead….or pin a little note like Paddington Bear had: “July hurts. Take it easy on me.” Life doesn’t work like that. On any given day, plenty of people around me are suffering. When someone snaps at me for no reason, I have to assume their hearts are troubled for reasons that likely have little to do with me.

So I guess it’s no wonder when the Tour de France ads come on, my heart starts to sink. And most years it remains sunk through all the hard and sad anniversaries of July. The heat and heartache can sap whatever energy I have. It sneaks up on me sometimes, but when I remember I know to be patient with myself and just keep going. Eventually August will come.