Sunday, 24 April 2016

A Step to the Edge

So I walk up on high
And I step to the edge
To see my world below
And I laugh to myself...
Cause its the world I know
-Collective Soul



On the outset of this training, I e-mailed all my friends and family that my goals for this marathon journey were two-fold.  One was to complete my first marathon, and the other was to raise $ 1000 for the BC Lung Association in honour of my father ( who has Pulmonary Fibrosis) and my husband's Aunt Mary-lynn (who has stage 3 lung cancer). I truly believe the answer to creating more favourable outcomes for diseases like cancer and pulmonary fibrosis is research. The BC Lung Association is a volunteer based charity that focuses much of their money on research. I have currently raised $765 for the BC Lung Association, thanks to many family and friends.  If you are a person who was thinking about donating and haven't yet, or someone who thinks they may want to donate to this very worthy cause, please do so now.  I am only $ 235 short of my goal, and would love it I was able to meet what I set out to do. 
Click here if you are able to donate:

I feel like I have run up high and stepped to the edge, just like in the song by Collective Soul quoted above. I have done all I can do,( with the exception of 2 short runs this week). I have hiked to the top of the mountain and now I am ready to leap. Our lives are what we create and I have created this journey for myself and now I am ready to finish what I set out to do. I have feelings of apprehension, pride and sadness all at once as this journey is reaching its conclusion. I am so grateful for both the opportunity and the people in my life who have helped me come this far. Thanks you to all those who have supported me, read this blog or just showed interest in my training.

I am very lucky also to have such a supportive group of runners to train with at the Running Room. Not only do they provide hours of entertainment during long runs, but many of these people provide me with all sorts of good running advice. One piece of advice I received to counter the mental breakdown that is likely to occur in the last 10 kilometers was to dedicate the last few kilometers to different people.

 In this vein, I have decided to dedicate the last 7 kilometers to important people in my life.  Kilometer 36 is for my Dad ( the year he was born) for inspiring me to "get busy livin." Kilometer 37 is for Aunt Mary lynn (if she can endure all that chemo therapy, I can finish this race), Kilometer 38 is for my Mom (also the year she was born) for being the strongest willed person I know.  Kilometer 39 is for my husband ( who is probably the most supportive husband out there) Kilometer 40 is for my daughter Amelia (who I endured a very painful (no pain medication) labour giving birth to) but whose will is only second to my mother.  Kilometer 41 is for my son, who has a beautiful kind spirit,  and Kilometer 42 is just for me. 15 years ago I would never have predicted that I would run a marathon, and there is just something about proving yourself wrong and growing as an individual that is exhilarating.


Thanks to all my running friends for your advice and companionship! I truly couldn't have done it without you.  May your race next weekend be everything you hoped it would be! ( I am sorry they don't allow dogs at the Marathon, Niko,  you were the strongest runner among us!)





"If you want to change your body, exercise.  If you want to change your life, become a runner."







Sunday, 17 April 2016

Faith in Butterfly Moments




"The butterfly counts not months but moments and has time enough."
Rabindranath Tagore



I am at the point in my training when I am required to have some "faith." I don't mean faith in the religious sense ( although I suppose you could think of it that way... but I am pretty sure God has way more pressing issues than how I perform in a marathon... like world hunger, war, health epidemics and such). What I mean is, I have to have faith that my training has prepared me for running a marathon in 2 short weeks. Seeing as how I have never run 42.2 kilometers in one day before, and seeing as how I have only run 78% of this distance in training, I am finding that leap of faith a little bit challenging. Sure veteran marathoners will attest to this plan, but really, will it really work for me?

Perhaps it is difficult for me because it seems that I question almost everything.  I feel like visual and political trickery is everywhere. Digital manipulation is rampant ( Did you all see that very convincing video that made its way around social media of a snowboarder who was seemingly being chased by a bear? Well, it was digital trickery. Yep. No bear. ).  And really, I have gotten to the point of laughter at politicians and their constant misdirections and election promises. So, when someone tells me to just "trust the what they say about the training" I feel a little bit apprehensive.

But I must trust something right?

Douglas Coupland in his book, Life After God spoke about small moments in our life. He said that if we take notice of these small moments, collect them and save them over a period of months we would see certain trends.  He said, "certain  voices would emerge that have been trying to speak through us.. and we would realize that we have been having another life altogether; one we didn't even know was going on inside us." There is so much of life that is part of  "clunky day to day" world that we deem as being important, but really it is just "noise" and the important stuff is the "small silent moments"

It is these small silent moments that I trust. It is the moments when I watch my children play together and I can clearly see their imaginary world coming to life. Or, it is when I am running along the path in Port Moody at sunset and the darkness of the trees creates a perfect shadow against the water -or the moment when  my daughter took her first steps ( when she was so proud, and all of us who watched her were glowing with smiles); or watching my son become so immersed in his book that he doesn't notice anything else going on around him; or the moment I finished my first 10 km run,and  the day I finished my first half marathon.  There are countless moments that I trust. If I look at all of these moments several themes emerge. One is, of course, the importance of my family - and another is running.

The butterfly, one of the world's more beautiful creatures, lives life in moments. Watching a butterfly is almost hypnotic. It will stop and pause its wings momentarily on a flower or a branch. And then it gracefully moves on. As with  most creatures, it doesn't have the ability to question its life purpose, destiny or even reason for being.  It undergoes a complete metamorphosis from a caterpillar to a flying beauty and lives its life from moment, to moment, flower to flower. It doesn't look ahead, it doesn't look behind-it just takes what is in front of it.

When I sat down to write this blog this week, I found it hard to come up with a focused idea. I think it is because at this point,  I feel like I could connect every part of my life from past to present to this moment. I am reminded of a few lines from a poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox called The Law that my dad likes to recite: "Somewhere on some planet, sometime and somehow/Your life will reflect all the thoughts of your now." I feel like everything in my life has led me to now. All of my good, bad and ugly moments have led me to this point.

And so, I am going to take some wisdom from the butterfly and approach the rest of this training and journey to race day living in those "small silent moments,"  I am going to live each moment as it comes. I am going to attempt to let go of my apprehensions and fly gracefully to one flower, and then to the next, because this- this is what I trust.



Life isn't a matter of milestones, but of moments
Rose Kennedy



Sunday, 10 April 2016

Nightmare Maranoia

The nightmares have started.

Before every race I have ever run, I have had running nightmares. Basically, they usually include me, in a race, completely screwing it up. For example, I could be  racing with inappropriate footwear (boots, flip flops, slippers) to not wearing any footwear (barefeet)  Or, I could have missed the beginning of the race due to unforeseen events ( sleeping in, car accident, getting lost) or, getting lost during the race, and never finding the finish line. My favourite dream is when I am running and suddenly I am confronted with a large obstacle ( an ocean, a building( that requires me to scale it ) or a maze with never ending hallways). In any case, each nightmare is just a variation of me not being able to finish what I started. I usually have these dreams the week or so before the race. This time, they are happening 3 weeks before. This means, my subconscious is worried two weeks ahead of schedule! I think that it is because I am headed into the "dreaded" taper. Today, I finished the longest training run before race day. Next week I will be running less, followed by another week of running even less. It seems that my subconscious pays attention to my running schedule, and thus disturbs my sleep with seemingly endless anxiety dreams.


 Why is this taper so dreaded? One would think that running less kilometers would be a good thing. Less kilometers means less muscle soreness, less chaffing and more time with my family, which seems to me, are all good things! However, like many things in life, the simplest explanation is not always the best one. Human beings are complicated.

 I haven't done a marathon taper before, but I imagine it is something like a 1/2 marathon taper, only longer.  It is during the taper that all seeds of doubt start.  Did I train right? How I am going to finish the race, when I am tired after doing a long slow pace? Then, typically, I start to feel some impending injury.( Does my knee hurt? I think I feel something in my thigh. Or, I think my throat is sore, am I getting the flu?)  And now that I am attempting to finish a 42 kilometer race after only training up to 32 kilometers ( actually 33 today...small detour due to a nice, big black bear in our way), I am trying to figure out how I am going to do 10 more kilometers on race day. Remember when I talked about the conversation I have with myself when I am running? One side of my brain thinks positively, while the other side holds negative thoughts.   It seems that this is the point in my training when the negative thoughts take over. ( Are you freaking kidding me? I am supposed to do 10 more kilometers on  mental strength? I can't even finish a race in my dreams!!!!!)

Now before you all start thinking that I am completely mentally unstable and in need of professional help, I would like to inform you that I am not alone. In fact, Runners World ran an article that spoke about this very thing. They called it "taper madness." And, if you google "taper psychosis" you will find pages and pages of articles and blogs about how runners go a little crazy during the taper. In fact, a blogger ( Run Jump Blog) made his own meme about it and called the condition "Maranoia":



Another article I found online that speaks about "taper psychosis" is  Fellrnr. They say that when a runner's belief  during the taper part of the training does not match the reality of their situation,they are experiencing "taper psychosis."  For example, it is common for a runner to feel slow and lethargic while tapering. They also say that many new aches and pains occur during the taper period. Short runs seem unexpectedly tough and feelings of doubt and uncertainty can be overwhelming.

I think it is pretty clear that I have Maranoia, and I think my subconscious knew it before I did.

But, good news!  While there is no cure for Maranoia (and it is only temporary), there is also lots of advice on how to deal with it. Everything from talking to others, using relaxing techniques, getting massages ( I like this one) to  just telling yourself that it is "normal. are ways to make the "dreaded" taper easier.


In spite of all the crazy messages my subconscious sent me this week, I had a good week of training, Every challenge ( even the fake ones I have in my dreams) helped me prepare and feel stronger. I have heard it said that the journey is the reward, and when I look back at all my blog posts, I really feel that this entire journey, from the beginning weeks to race day, will be the reward. Running a marathon is not just one day. It is hundreds of  kilometers and hours of mental tests. So whatever mental tests I will have to endure to get this job done, I am ready. Take that Maranoia!.

 



Sunday, 3 April 2016

Terry Fox

"I guess it comes down to a simple choice really, get busy living or get busy dying."
Andy Dufresne-Shawshank Redemption

When Terry Fox died, I was 9 years old. I remember where I was when I heard it on the radio. I remember feeling the loss and disbelief. I was young, but I was not too young to understand how sad it is when someone who gives us hope  for a better world leaves us. It felt like something beautiful was over. 

Many Canadians and people all over the world  have felt inspired by the story of Terry Fox, but none more than those of us who live in his community. Today, many runners took part in the second annual Terry Fox Training Run. Everyone knows the story of how Terry Fox ran marathon a day from St. John's Newfoundland to Thunder Bay, Ontario in his Marathon of Hope, but few people think about the training he had to do to complete this amazing feat. The route for this run is inspired by a 10 mile route that Terry completed frequently during his training which goes literally, right by my house. After the amputation of his right leg, he learned to run again at the track where my kids learned to ride their bikes. This track is also part of the run. I take great pride in the fact that I live where he trained. 

It would be very easy for me to go on and on about the amazing physical feat it would have been for Terry Fox to complete the training to run across Canada ( never mind doing it in 42 kilometer installments) ( which it was) or the amazing courage he showed in facing his illness and completing his goal ( which he did), or how he was instrumental in changing attitudes toward people with disabilities ( which he was), or that his sheer will and determination was ( and continues to be ) an inspiration for anyone trying to overcome adversity (which it is). Writing about what an amazing and selfless person he was would be very easy. What is most interesting to me today, though, is how despite his terrible prognosis, he stayed focused on his goal. He was sick. He lost his leg from cancer, but he still remained focused. He could have stayed home and felt sorry for himself. Or, he could have gone to a beach and drank some mai-tais.  I don''t think anyone would have begrudged him of this, but he chose instead to get busy living. But he did more than just get busy living, he meant to help others to get busy living. He thought beyond his own life. Not a lot of people do that.  

The distinction between living to live and living to die is small. We all will die. So what are we doing if we are not just filling up time before then? The difference is more than semantic. The difference is how we approach what we do. When my father was first diagnosed with Pulmonary Fibrosis he told me he was not going to just sit in his chair and wait to die. He sure hasn't so far. He gets out for exercise every day. He has been working madly on a book that tells the story of his family. He has been living. We don't all know when we are going to die, but when confronted with a possible end date, I think what we do with the time tells a lot about our character.

In the last year of his life, Terry Fox chose to live in the most selfless way. He wanted to change what people knew about cancer so he could create different endings. One of my husband's favourite movie quotes is from Gladiator when Maximus says: "Brothers, what we do in life...echoes in eternity." And when we think about Terry Fox, what he did echoes on and on. Because of what he did, and the money that the Terry Fox Foundation raised, countless lives have been changed.  When Terry was diagnosed with metastatic osteosarcoma, the survival rate was less than five percent.  Today it is over 80 percent and amputation is almost unheard of. And, this is because one young man, who was average guy in many ways, did something extraordinary with last days of his life.

For the first time in my training this past week I had some aches and pains that affected my training. I had to stop during my tempo run ( making it a non-tempo run) because I had a painful muscle spasm in my right calf. Luckily, I was able shake it off, stretch it out and hobble slowly back. Even more lucky, after ice, heat, Ibuprofen, and stretching, I seem to be back to normal and was able to complete my 29 km long run today with no problem. I did a lot of complaining about this when I got home from my botched tempo run, but the discomfort I felt was nothing compared to the pains Terry Fox had to endure. He suffered shin splints, and inflamed knee. He suffered from tendonitis and developed cysts on his stump.  Still he kept going. I am a healthy, 2 legged woman, and I am not running a marathon every day and I still get aches and pains. I can only imagine the kind of pain he felt every day. If Terry Fox can do what he did, I can certainly complete one 42.2 kilometer run, right?

So today, I dedicate my run and my blog to Terry Fox. Thank you Terry Fox for choosing to, and inspiring us all to "get busy living."


"It occurs very rarely in the life of a nation that the courageous spirit of one person unites all people in the celebration of his life and in the mourning of his death... We do not think of him as one who was defeated by misfortune but as one who inspired us with the example of the triumph of the human spirit over adversity."  
Pierre Trudeau, 1981