Tag: support

#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?

Uncategorized

The Support Role

2chicksandapen

Recently I got a chance to reflect on a few variations of those in supportive roles and the value of such roles.

At my recent competition two families had young adults supporting their parents at the competition. They could have done other things but they instead chose the supportive role. It meant a lot to the participants and it reconfirmed the already strong bond between young adults/parents. The value of this support can’t be overlooked.

Then there was the photographer at the event. The unpaid position that captured amazing moments for many who couldn’t take their own photos because they were in action. This support role provided joy to some and a replay of efforts for those who like to take note of good or bad points in their performance. A job nobody really signs up for but everyone wants the benefits of.

The concession stand worker at the local sporting event. An unpaid job. One that takes a person away from maybe watching their own kid or socializing with other parents. The last job anyone really wants to volunteer for. Yet despite the lack of participation on the volunteer side, many are ready to buy, eat and complain if things are not perfect. Thus the concession stand volunteer is the unsung hero. The thankless support role.

The parent. The guide. The nuturerer. The lecturer. The disciplinarian. The enforcer. The constant support role. Despite the importance of the role, it’s probably the bottom of the food chain on any given day. The volunteer role that comes with no instructions. 

When I sit back and think about any support role, I think of thankless jobs. I think of how we should all be more grateful to others who give time to any support role. A coach, for example. The food pantry helper. The people who help put smiles on the faces of others because of the support they give.

Take a look at your day. Your week. Your environment. How many supporters do you have around you? Have you thanked them lately? Do you in turn support others?

I recently went to cheer on a friend for a tennis match. It was a new vantage point. For me as an observer, it was a fun time to just watch and cheer for another. It meant something to the person that asked me to attend and thus made the time worth it. Supporting others can can be rewarding for both parties. 

I think years ago I was less supportive as an individual than I am today. In time I have matured to focus on others before self. The fact that I write about this confirms my growth in this area. It also implies my intent to help others realize the benefits of supporting others. Give it a try. 

author moments, awareness, challenges

It’s Been A Week

2chicksandapen

This week is one for the record books. 

So much to do in my own day-to-day life. The normal tasks. The one-off tasks. The fitness regimen. The community service. The people time. Travel. Life a-z. Then a boom hits. A real shocker nobody could ever plan for. Indirect connection. Direct connection. Neither matters when the boom is so hard the shock wave spirals for miles and miles. That’s what happen when a child dies that is interwoven in communities near and far due to school, church and sports connections.

My community is mourning the loss of a young girl. The day-to-day life seems insignificant yet life continues for our family. A guilt one should not want to feel. As a coach of young girls, I check in on social media. I text. I watch. I have to keep an eye out. I see so much hurt. I check in with other parents to see how grief is setting in on their home front. I see sadness on faces that normally boast bright smiles. I see prayer groups running non stop. Everyone is trying to get by with a little help from……

God

The community

Family

Friends

Loved ones

Many are holding on to cherished memories. Many are wondering why they didn’t get to say goodbye. Others are thinking why did I not do this or maybe why did I say that. When loss hits without warning so many raw emotions are stirred up. Time has become a thief. Time is no longer an option with that person. The loss of not doing is what is so hard.

Healing has begun for this community in some ways. No one will really ever understand the why behind this incident. None of us will really be exactly the same. Some kids will learn lessons and some will sit in the darkness for many reasons. Life is full of experiences and unfortunately death is one of them. Living through loss is where growth can happen even if it’s extremely hard in the moment. I’m learning how to be a better parent for example. I’m learning how to talk more deeply with other parents on how they are handling this type of grief and/or teaching moments.

I am however not passing judgment on the young girl. I am not passing judgment on the others involved. It’s not my place. It’s also not for me to decide who was in the wrong. My job is to be patient. To learn. To love. To be present. That’s it. Just a support role. A support for whomever needs it. When they need it. Today. Tomorrow. A year from now.

I will think of the color blue a little differently now. The baby blue hue that is a memory of her bright light on the world. A soft color to represent an angel in the distance. May her new journey be one that allows her to soar among the powdery blue skies. 

As one is set to be layed to rest. I pause. I reflect on my choices. My guidance to my kids. This could be me. This could be you. This tragedy can happen in your community. Teens are not invincible despite their beliefs. It’s great to feel invincible but we all know as adults how dangerous feeling invincible can be. For now I’m one of the lucky ones. I get to hug my teen. I get to continue the process of looking at colleges. I get to support my teen during this grief.

My heart goes out to the parents who don’t have that ability any longer. My strength goes out to the families whose children’s lives were spared that night. For they feel a different kind of grief and relief and guilt. My resilience is going out to the family of the one who ultimately has to face the legal system for this unfortunate situation. Another angle of this dilemma many may forget about but one that is equally challenging. Families will hurt for years to come. 

As I close my eyes to drift into a peaceful state I say a quiet prayer for all. Everyone needs something. May peace be granted to all in the ways that each needs for healing. I am also praying for healing of all involved in the other teen incidents that just happened to occur close by in the past few weeks as well.

The teen shot leaving school.

The teen stabbed with a box cutter in the school bathroom.

The football player gunned down at the mall.

Signing off as a lucky mom today. Heartbroken for the kids and families impacted by these tragedies. May this be a reminder that we as parents are not invincible. We can all be faced with that uncertainty one day. Stay humble. Be kind. Do what you can to help others. You may need the support one day.

challenges, dare to be different

Don’t Say Gay

2chicksandapen

“I am not gay!”

…the cry came from behind the swings. Then the young man came streaking across the playground toward the tall trees. “I am NOT gay! I AM NOT GAY!” Screamed with the terror of trying to outrun the boogie man, a cloud of cooties, a wild black bear and the abominable snowman all at once.

This summer, I am teaching third grade students. They are 9 or 10 years old. This is one interaction I witnessed this week on the playground.

I started the calm walk over to talk with him and the other boys who had been taunting him.

“What is going on?” I asked them. The conversation quietly began. One sheepishly admitted to calling another one gay. The one who used the word hung his head as he fessed up.

I hear over and over again that if we talk about gay families or students in elementary school, we are exposing them to this content way too early. Here’s the thing this playground taunt reminded me: THIS SO-CALLED “MATURE CONTENT” IS ALREADY THERE. It is already in our schools.

Some of our students have same-sex parents. They have siblings who are part of the LGBTQIA+ community, not to mention aunts, uncles, and grandparents. Then there are relationships they see in the media. Some of our elementary students even know they are in one of these groups, even if they don’t have the words for it yet. The vast majority of kids in our schools already know about this through observation and experience, just as they know about heterosexual relationships from a huge variety of sources.

Here’s what I know: if adult professionals in schools avoid talking about this topic at all, it is allowed to run rampant with misconceptions and ignorance. When I told these young men (really, they are boys) that being gay is not an awful thing, it’s just how some people are, their eyes popped and their jaws dropped. I could tell they had not heard that before.

I can’t allow students to run around on playgrounds and call people gay as if that is the worst thing they could be. How would a gay classmate feel, or a classmate with same sex parents?

Is it any wonder the rate of suicide attempts and suicidal thoughts is higher among LGBTQ young people if their identity is used as an insult? And adults just stand by and watch it happen?

I get it…It’s not always easy to talk about for people of many ages. One of my daughter’s friends who came out in the past couple of years saw me at a party recently. She said “Miss Beth, you forgot to wish me a Happy Pride Month!” I hugged her and wished her Happy Pride Month with a smile. I love seeing her come into her own and embrace her truth.

Then I showed her my watch face, which made her eyes light up. I have my Apple Watch set on one of the new Pride faces. It may seem little, but even small signals to young people that they are seen, accepted, and embraced for who they are matter. And I will continue to say it and show it in whatever ways I can.

adventure, family, fitness and nutrition

Blue With a Hint of White

2chicksandapen

I see an abundance of blue. A sea of Carolina Blue near and far. Maybe some white but far more blue. University of North Carolina blue. That soft powdery-colored blue that is easily recognizable as the UNC symbolic color. Nestled deep in the heart of Tar Heel territory on the UNC campus, it’s hard to miss the waves of blue everywhere.

I am here for an event which involves the wearing of the university colors and uniforms. Trying to find a needle in a haystack is a good reference for finding my kid in the sea of blue jerseys. My child is one of of 400-500 immersed in an elite field experience for the sport of lacrosse, which she loves. Last college event was big but not this big.

Hundreds of highly skilled athletes looking to standout while improving their individual and teaming skills on such a big stage. Such an experience to live through as both an athlete and a spectator.

My lens is clearly the spectator but obviously I couldn’t be more proud of my athlete. Spending hours on the field for days with new faces and personalities. Determining if a college athlete life is for her or not. Learning how to adapt and overcome while avoiding injury as well. Training on and off the field. Fueling the body for competition. Resting the mind amidst finals and semester-end deadlines. Challenging herself to be a better version of her. It’s all relative. It’s a process. It takes dedication, determination and a bit of badassery.

I’m a copilot of sorts. The errand girl. The roadie. The fan girl. It’s still a hard job. Navigating maps, finding fields, lugging gear, packing sustainable food for energy, being prepared for any weather, traveling to unknown places, finding accommodations and so much more. I’m in the muck of it all. I’ll wipe tears if they are shed. I’ll pull out the bandaids when needed. I will snap the all the photos allowed to capture the memories as well. I even deal with the nasty attitude when fatigue sets in and nobody is watching but me. No shame in my game/role.

It’s also funny to wade through the cemetery of bags, sticks, jackets, coats, sweats and so on. Where else could you experience the awkward smell of stinky feet and body odor in the cool crisp air? These are the memories I will cherish no matter how gross they sound in my writings.

Our crazy schedule is not for the weak at heart. We spend many days on the road. We spend time away from family and friends. We wake up early. We get into bed late. We battle rain, snow, wind, cold and heat. All to chase a dream. Her dream at the moment. A dream many may not ever achieve and many may never attempt. This is our journey or path right now. Our time together. Wherever she ends up she will know I supported her dream.

As I wrap up this post I take a deep sigh. Reflecting on how grateful I am to be able to take this walk with her. To support her. To praise her efforts. It’s a one of a kind opportunity for both of us. I share this post to provide a glimpse to others who may not have the opportunity to see this lens of life. 

Fourteen states she has played competitive lacrosse in. The sport of lacrosse has allowed her to meet people and see new places while mastering her performance as a woman in sports. I’m not sure how many more states will be visited as she narrows down her college wish list.