The Power of Persistence (or Why Your Critic Sucks)

The quote below is Roosevelt and it sums up a lot of truths I think we discover in our marriages, friendships, parenting, careers, etc. I think I am beginning to realize (and hope sometime before my 80th birthday can accept…) that perfection is not our ultimate goal. Our goal is to never stop—even G-d doesn’t ask for perfection, only that we keep going when that going gets (inevitably) tough. And you can’t really ask for a higher authority on perseverance, in my opinion. The critics of our lives, especially the critic inside, really don’t matter and that voice wins only when we slow down and give it an ear.

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”

Sunstroke, Cancer & Rude People

Answer: What are random occurrences that have recently taken place in my life?

Sunstroke: Okay...I did not get to the sunstroke stage by any means but post a mid-morning run last weekend I did understand what Galloway mean when he said you're pushing too hard if you feel 'irritation' during or after your run. Sunday post-run I (in this order): stepped on a rake, subsequently tripped over the rake, kicked the rake out of the way, then walked over to kick it again for good measure, stalked into the house, and stabbed straight through a Capri Sun. Note to self: if you're too lazy to get up early on Sunday morning to run, then do not add insult to injury by trying to run mid-morning in 90+ degrees.

I thought I was a lot faster than my Sunday time trials honestly revealed. I thought I had made more progress than was shown to me last weekend. Gah.

Cancer: This is my job right now. Kids get cancer. Sometimes they get better. Sometimes they don't. How does a living person comfort a dying person about facing death? ...

Rude people: I must choose to not let these people influence me. I grew up feeling like I needed to personally confront and squash every rude behavior I came across thus showing my kindness and level-head. Wrong. Rude people are rude--I am choosing to briefly acknowledge that type of behavior for what it is, step out of the way, and let it pass. Rude can keep on going that-a-way and bu-bye thanks.

Life is good. The sky is blue, really good bruschetta(sp?) is sold a mile and half from my house, hydrangeas are blooming, Lily can count to twelve and Evan has a six-pack. This afternoon I have a thirty-minute run planned and today there will be no yard tool or beverage casualties of my heat-induced anger. More importantly, there will be no loss in my personal momentum or belief in myself. Sometimes I run fast. Sometimes I run slow. Regardless, I run.

I broke my butt. It wasn't as fun as it sounds.

Evan made me do some ridiculous baseball work-out called 50/50s or as I like to call them older-men-with-lost-athletic-abilities/opportunities-taking-it-out-on-young-men-by-grinding-their-faces-into-baseball-diamond-dirt (a mouthful I'll grant you but by God: accurate).

So I walk like the tin-man today and wore these sandals that are ridiculously loud on the hospital stairs paticularly when you have to walk like someone molded from metal. I'm sure everyone in Labor & Delivery and the NICU really appreciated my clacking today (people in the OR don't count because they basically have no idea what's going on...kidding. But seriously, they don't.).

I came home to relax and was forced by Lily to do *dun-dun-duuuuuuuuuuuun*--A. Floor. Puzzle. So no running today but back at my boulder tomorrow. Praise coffee. Praise bread. Praise rain on a skylight. Praise 55 packets of oatmeal in one box. Praise Netflix.

The End.

I think therefore I am.

There is a famous adage that paraphrased says everything is b.s. before the ‘but’. I don’t want to jinx myself but…I am starting to understand how this ‘running thing’ can quickly become addicting. Reading race stories in my marathon how-to book and Runner’s World is becoming more and more interesting and I really enjoyed Monday’s run—like, really-really enjoyed it. I know—those I-love-running-people always induced some eye-rolling in me as well but…

I decided to power through some non-running related pain Monday evening and take my run within reasonable limits. It was the best run I have had so far. I am starting to notice cardiovascular improvement and realized that my slow run had become almost too comfortable (by all means: insert eye roll and/or gag here).

Of course my non-run pain roared at me with a vengeance when I got home and that, coupled with Lily trying to run away with Mr. Boo-Boo, was a little frustrating. But…I did it. And I did it well. I was able to do it well (or at least better than I could have before) because I have been consistent and persistent—yay for me…

…but. It is all nil if I don’t do it again tomorrow. And again. And then again…etc., so forth, and a continuance and such… I am the Sisyphus of my neighborhood running loop and you know what? I imagine me happy.

Running with Purpose

After writing and publishing my first two blog posts I am finally going to 'release them into the wild' a.k.a. you, or more accurately, the World Wide Web via Facebook and my proud mother.

Hm. This is slightly nerve-wracking. My thoughts are Emily, on paper (figuratively) and kind-of indelibly. 'Kind-of' as in, I could delete and deny though once something is posted, it's well, posted...I'm letting readers into my current fears, hopes, dreams, ambitions, frustrations and stories. But there's an important reason (yes besides ego) I want people to follow this blog and it is the person you see above, Deb Wills.

Deb is the founder of All Ears (http://www.allears.net/). All Ears (or AEN) is an everything Disney site that basically features any Disney experience or location you could ever imagine. It is an invaluable tool for families trying to plan anything Disney and/or for those of us who just can't get enough of the Mouse. Deb is a 20+ year breast cancer survivor and she has raised thousands upon thousands of dollars for breast cancer research. AEN team members Mike Scopa and Michelle Scribner-MacLean have started an AEN Running Team that will be participating in the Disney Marathon Weekend races while raising money for Deb's Avon Foundation Breast Cancer Team.

I have met Deb, e-mailed with Deb, and followed her site--she is one of those 'wow' kind of people and obviously makes an impact with whomever or whatever she comes in contact with. We are especially on the same page about this fact: understanding cancer and developing better tools to fight this disease is our path to a cure. The cure starts at the research lab bench and then safely moves to the hospital bedside. But that research can only continue with you and me, starting now.

Donations can be made on Deb's page--please remember to give our team Brownie-Points by writing 'Team All Ears--PICKLE' after your donation. You can also send checks via mail to:

Avon Walk for Breast Cancer

C/o Deb Wills

3520 Sugarloaf Parkway, Suite F03-105

Fredrick, MD 21704

(checks can be written to 'Avon Walk for Breast Cancer')

Moving on to training week six...wish me luck. And give me money. Please&greatthanks.

Run for Your Life

I was jogging a couple of weeks ago and realized how good it felt to actually keep myself within reasonable limits. I stopped to stretch when I need to and plodded along my route at a (very) modest pace. Continually forcing myself to stick to a steady per mile rhythm I realized why I had never been able to excel at endurance before this.

I have felt too strong to not try and too weak to succeed and the reality is that I was neither. Instead of giving myself the time and patience to slowly build myself up one brick at a time, I rushed through everything. It wasn’t good enough to be in college and enjoy the time there—I had to graduate as soon as possible. It wasn’t good enough to have a job I liked—I had to be the boss. It wasn’t good enough to be a size 6—I wanted a size 0. I mapped out my own failures by setting goals that never satisfied me. I didn’t enjoy the journey—I didn’t revel in the victory. I accomplished (when I was able) and it left me wanting more, always searching for the next angle. I did this because I felt failure was inevitable and I even wanted to get to that over with as soon as possible… When I did fail, my mind stopped trying because I had reached the endpoint I had always believed was an eventuality. Unknowingly, I had made failure my goal.

So that day a couple of weeks ago, I just ran. Not for the person on my left or right and not because I needed to be faster or stronger or thinner, but because I had said I would. My ultimate goal, the ½ marathon, is a motivation but for the first time it feels good to live in every run, every mile, or during the hard days, every step.

Learning to accept my own limitations and somehow discovering within that my limitlessness is a long, slow exhale after years of holding my breath. It is a belief that I can have mastery over something that seems really difficult to me. The mastery does not have to be the grind I felt every goal should or must entail but is rooted in the beauty of simplicity. The sharp smack—smack of one foot right after another, eyes on the horizon, and the simple joy and power of taking every step.

The (real) Starting Line

I am running at a strong pace, white shoes a blur of motion and grinning from ear to ear. After months of training I am almost there. I have gone the distance, I have kept my eyes on the prize, I am a lean, mean running mach—oh look!—it’s Goofy! Wait—oh my gosh—WAIT….why is he chasing me?

Suddenly breathless and looking over my shoulder I run faster and in my panic plow straight into Mickey Mouse who is waiting by the Finish line. Mickey’s head rolls off and children all along the end of the race path start screaming. Open-mouthed on the pavement to my horror Mickey is revealed to actually be my middle school gym teacher who blows a deafening whistle into my face and screams with spit flying, ‘HIT THE SHOWERS MS. OWENS!!!’

It is one of a few scenarios I have wondered about. As I lay in bed last night I said into the darkness, ‘Am I really about to run 13 miles straight?’

‘You say that like you mean it negatively,’ said my husband sleepily (who incidentally has not signed up to run even one mile straight—ahem).

‘No, no,’ I murmured back, thinking to myself that I meant it in more of a oh-my-dear-Lord-what-have-I-done-way…and yes if you want to be ‘technical’ maybe that is negative but unless you are running with me: shut it.

I am actually very excited to run the Disney half-marathon—I need to get back to a regular workout routine and it seems like a worthy goal is going to be the motivation I need. ‘But Emily—you do know there’s a 5K race that week, right? Because you know…this will be your first race…’ Yeah, I know. Here’s the deal: I have never been very athletic. Whether being self-conscious or just not being very talented (or a combo), I am the kid who dreaded gym and took many a zero during dodge ball and softball week.

Over the past few years I have been able to accomplish some things I never thought I would be able to do. I balance a husband, full-time job, daughter, school room-mom duties, friends, family travel agent, Pickle housekeeper, and my hobbies pretty well (though I am always game for a nap). I am by no means perfect but I think I do a decent job at all of these different roles.

In college my roommates would constantly run and I was always a bit envious of their tenacity (and quadriceps). The closest I have come to death is when I joined a couple of them for a Step class. I think hell might be in the form of a legging-clad blonde with a cheery pony-tail forever bouncing up and down on top of a turquoise bench in a never-ending series of things called ‘Around-the-World’ and ‘Over-the-Top’. I know—it is seemingly innoculous but look: everything is fun and games until your heart’s left chamber explodes which is completely possible during Step aerobics.

I digress.

Via All Ears (www.allears.net) I followed Mike’s Tower of Terror (ToT) 13K, Michelle’s first marathon, and Laura’s Princess Half-Marathon. Their advice and races seemed reasonable and dare I say fun. In a fit of confidence (delusion?) I thought the scariest thought of all, ‘Maybe I can do this…?’

Then the moment of truth came—an announcement that All Ears was going to host a running team with a twist: each team member would be raising money for Deb Wills’ annual Avon Breast Cancer Walk. I work in pediatric oncology and have seen first-hand what a toll cancer takes on your mind and body. The planets had aligned and I signed up. And I am ready to train and looking forward to all of the great advice Mike, Michelle and others are sure to provide. I am also looking forward to being a part of this team with probably some veterans, some newbies—the camaraderie is going to be very important so you do not have conversations like the following:

Emily: Grandma—I signed up for a half-marathon!

Grandma: (silence)

Emily: …grannie?

Grandma: You know that’s like running to your parent’s house…right?’

It seemed ‘challenging’ before but now, gee—thanks grandma!

I hope you (someone…anyone…come on—I am running THIRTEEN MILES…STRAIGHT!) will follow along and that all of you will give money to our fundraising team. My other secret hope is that I will succeed in this race and do what Mike, Michelle, Laura and others have done for me which is inspire you to do something outside of your comfort zone that ends up being as much fun as I think WDW Marathon Weekend 2010 will be…if I can—you can.

Let’s do it! Like Nike (except slower).