When I was a teen, I looked older than I was and hardly hung out with the kids in my own class. When I was in my 20’s and 30’s, I was the most prim and proper princess and exuded maturity and good manners. In my 40’s, I began running and accusations of hitting a mid-life crisis arose.
In my deep core of myself, I’ve never really been very comfortable discussing my age, acting my age nor feeling age appropriate. So when birthdays come around… I freak out a little bit.
It’s that time again. Well not today but on Tuesday it is.
The thing about the sport of triathlon is that you MUST get over it. Triathlon isn’t like zumba in that you can do your thing next to someone else and never know if that person is 5, 10, 20 years younger or older than you. Not so in Tris. You get your age sharpied on the back of your legs for the whole world to see. There’s no fibbing, no fake facebook birthdays, no lies.
So here I am in an age group that I don’t feel like I belong in… again. But what can I do? I figure I’ll just make the best of it. Surely I’m not the only one. As I take a good look around at some of the competitors around me, I see them in similar situations. We put 110% effort in what we do. We crack jokes about those outside our age groups and now… I find myself zeroing in on those inside my age group.
I don’t care what the people in my age group look like. I don’t care what they do 9-5. I don’t care about the gossip and drama that surrounds them. I pay attention to what they do to make them excel and do better than last time. I pay attention to smile they have on the podium. I pay attention to the intensity of their workouts, their determination and their overall happiness. I’ve never done that before… pay attention to my own peoples, I mean.
It’s weird to me that when I first meet someone, no matter how much I stress the age difference between us.. they seem to forget it. Either age means nothing to them at the time or age means too much to me at the time.
It was quite comical how during casual conversation the other day that I reminded a friend of mine that I was older than her mother. You should have seen her face when that realization came over her.
Age is a squiggly topic for me. On the 19th, it was my brother’s birthday. He would have been 41. That was the age that I began running. It changed me. Had he been given the years I was, what would he have done to change his life if given the opportunity?
I remember turning 30 and crying while Raudel and Piper were giggling at me in the office at Mission Economic Development. I remember turning 40 and crying because I was alone. I had birthday parties until I was in 6th grade and then nothing else except for one dinner party when I was 23 and that was only because Xavie set it up so that he could pop the question to me and when Kristie threw a little get together for me with a running theme. Other than those… I’ve never had real birthday parties. I’ve never really celebrated my age.
And honestly, the party stuff will likely never change. But celebrating my age… I need to change my attitude about that. Quick.
It’s a pretty good thing that God has given me a chance to do all these crazy things I do… not just for me but for others, too. That’s a gift. It’s a gift that my brother never got. It’s a gift that so many others take for granted. I must stop taking what I have for granted.
I should not be ashamed of being “old”.
I’m an old woman who can run 9 minute miles.
I’m an old woman who can wear a size 6 without a “faja”.
I’m an old woman who can swim for an hour straight.
I’m an old woman who can ride her bike for 100+ miles.
I’m an old woman who has a pretty damn good life.
Unfortch… I’m an old woman who has some kick a$$ women in her age group that are training right this very moment… and I am not!!!
Solid week of training! I’m pretty pleased. I think what I’m most impressed with is that this last year, I was blessed enough to be able to focus on my training and not have to go to an office to work. Now that I’ve started working again, albeit the office is still very flexible with me, I was successful in fitting in my workouts, work, meetings, volunteering with the Colonoscopy Assistance Program 5k race, attending my son’s all-city honor band performance and taking my other son to his karate classes. Ok, laundry didn’t get done one day but like my missed workouts… I got it done the next day.
Balance is a tricky talent. But even more important than mastering a balance in your life, the ability to adaptto any situation, obstacle or interference is critical… not only in training … but in life.
That is what my mother taught me. She was incredible at it.
I attended my second time trial for Team McAllen’s cycling team individual time trial this morning. We’ve been getting a lot of fog lately so for safety reasons, they pushed down the start time to 9:00a.m. The thing about pushing it down into the day is that the wind picks up closer to noon and the wind here in the gulf coast area is a biotch.
My first time trial was a bit scary for me. It was cold, drizzly and new. I wasn’t familiar with the race course and didn’t really know what to expect. This time, there were no excuses. I knew what to do. I knew how to do it. It wasn’t cold. It wasn’t drizzly. But there was wind… and a lot of it. So, ADAPT.
Many of the usual suspects were right there along side me. Mike, a regular 5a.m.’er on Tuesdays and Thursdays with me, had just finished his race and chimed in with his insight. “Start off slow otherwise you’ll lose your oxygen at the turn.” He gave me turn by turn advice that was spot on. This guy knows what he’s doing and I’m so glad he shared it with me!
Mike Padgett demonstrating his tactic to beating the wind today… Just create an aero bulge to the front and the let nature do the rest…exhale through the back.
Team McAllen Cycling Individual Time Trials begin
I did almost the whole entire TT on my aerobars that Wally got for me. I smirked a little as it dawned on me that it took almost an entire year for me to get used to aerobars!! And I think it was my excitement of me being on my aeros that it wasn’t until after the race that I realized that I had stayed on my big wheel the entire time. I should have shifted more because of the wind. Hindsight is always 20/20. Next time.
Sure enough, Mike’s advice kicked in. Just when I turned the corner to book it… I felt a little like an old school Looney Tunes cartoon. You know that cartoon character that churns his legs so fast that smoke arises… but goes no where? I was pushing so hard on my legs that I promise you, my thighs were on FIRE!!! Terri passes me. Mike Overly passes me. Ugh… I feel myself slump over in defeat. I glanced at my Garmin and see 20mph. Ugh! I don’t know what was going on. I was pushing hard and didn’t seem like I was going fast at all.
“Go Myssie!!! WTH! GOOOOOOOOO!!!!! Don’t you slow down! Don’t you slow down! You can push for this short time. Don’t you dare tell me you can’t! Throw up when you’re done. GGOOOOOOOO!!!! What are you waiting for??? What you waiting for?????” my inner voice was having a Gwen Stefani conniption!
Ok, so I gave it all I had. Front 242 was blaring. (Yes, I broke the rules and wore my earbuds… but it was a controlled closed course so it was safer for me to do it here) I hit it harder than I ever thought I could. And then I scared myself… I actually heard myself grunt. No, I’m serious! I grunted… like a possessed horse or something!!! I was busting a gut to keep up with the two hammerheads that passed me. Oh man hit it hard and I was back up to about a block away when I saw Mike take the corner and go into lightening speed. The volunteer at the corner waved me down and yelled “car back!”. I glanced over my shoulder to see if it was safe enough to take the left turn without getting hit when zoooooommmmm Spish passes me!!! The car slowed enough for me to go but good lord my spirit was crushed. I couldn’t even see Terri anymore, Mike seemed like he was a gazillion miles away and Spish was just about to eat Mike’s tire. I glance down again at my Garmin.
14.
Oh crap. Seriously? The wind took it’s beating on me and it won.
One last right corner… my head is hanging low. I look up and see the crowd and here comes the adrenaline!!! It’s the finish!!! I tuck in and give it my all. BOOM! pump pump pump!!! And then I look up…
Hey… why do they seem to have moved further away from me?????
smh
I cross the finish and go a bit further just to gather my bearings and take a peek at my Garmin and Strava. Pathetic. I realize that my time is unofficial and wrong off the bat because I hit my start time about 15 seconds before the actual start and hit the stop way after I stopped… but still. I had hoped for a much longer margin of difference between my time last month and this month. How could I have done worse than I did last month???
I rode back to the gang with my tail between my legs and disappointment on my face, I’m sure. That’s when Mike Padgett came up to me with a big old fist bump and the news that I had shaved a minute off my time from last month!
So… as I sit here typing away… I am eagerly awaiting the official times to be posted.
A minute… ok, that’s encouraging!
Hindsight visions: 1.) Stop worrying about reaching your goal weight and eat something good those few days before you know you’re going to book it for this long! 2.) Lock up your heart so it doesn’t get broken and drink all that wine before an event like this! 3.) Get a better bike playlist on this phone! 4.) It’s ok for those guys to pass you. They’re rockstars and on a completely different level than I am. But one day… ya, one day… I’ll be there. Until then, just do my best and don’t let their best get me down. 4.) Make arrangements for a babysitter for the kiddos so I can go for coffee and pancakes afterwards. This is a really cool crowd. 5.) Wear a heart monitor and a go pro next time. Let’s do this right.
This morning’s fog may have blurred my mind a bit. Still unsure of where these *signs* are leading me, I questioned my purpose.
I got up and ready after a pretty tough emotional week (again) and headed over to Bill Schupp Park for our team’s Mission Mile for our honored heroes and those we’ve lost. I’m sure it was just my inner me that didn’t want to confront the dark corner inside me that doesn’t like to deal with this emotion that was likely to come up and the memories that it tags along with it. But I did it. Plus I needed to turn in my fundraising letters so that I could win the “Go Getter Grant”.
It was both the TNT Marathon team and the Triathlon team together. I handed out purple, green and white ribbons for all my team mates to wear during practice. Each color represented someone who we were running for in 1.) honor of, 2.) memory of or was a 3.) survivor.
Many of us had several ribbons in various colors.
I decided to wear only two. One for my Momma and one for Sarah. Sarah is my honored team mate this season and has been before in other seasons. She was there at the park with us and greeted me with that bright cheery hug she is so famous for.
Her mother, Anita, took center stage for our mission moment. She announced that Sarah had been declared officially in remission earlier this week.
Honest to God, I could not remember any of the rest of what she said because I was overwhelmed with joy. My tears propelled from my eyes and there was nothing I could do to stop them.
I had been so heartbroken just a few days ago for personal selfish reasons and took this as my little sign to let it go and see the happiness that is happening around me. And then Dezma’s grandfather took the stage… err … trail. It was then that he reminded me that it was just a year ago in a few weeks that Dezma lost her fight with cancer. He uncovered a larger than life sized photo of her and paraded it in front of us and I was right at the very end of the line of teammates. It was when he got to me that he exploded.
“God Damn It! I HATE LEUKEMIA!!!” he cried out.
I lost it. I seriously lost it. I hate it, too.
He led us into the Mission Mile holding her picture up. We all followed in silence.
Posted in Uncategorized on February 15, 2014 by runmyssierun
Today’s ride was …. Enchanting. Maybe it was the day – Valentines. Maybe. Today was just Friday to me… An ordinary day in an ordinary world. But the big bright full moon tried to convince me otherwise.
It followed me all morning like a spot light illuminating the trail for me and the 5am Wake up riders. Almost like it was flirting with me. *blush* I guess it was a little romantic. And who doesn’t like a little romance I their life???
My practices have been pretty good. I’ve been dedicated and haven’t missed one (ok, I missed Mondays but I made it up the next day).
I’m super proud of the teams swimming!!! You saw the fear in their eyes… And they pushed on anyway. THATSWHATIMTALKINGABOUT
I still have to wait until the 22nd to see how everyone does on their bikes. I can’t wait!!!
Alex went panhandling with me on Monday. We did eh eh. Not like last season. But we’re going to try again next week during peak driving hours.
Being Valentines week… I was a little taken back by the gifts I received from people I never really thought had been paying attention. Humbled and honored and clearly blessed to have them in my life.
If you follow any of my social media accounts, you can probably agree that one of my most iconic photos was the one of me crying as I crossed the finish line at the LiveSTRONG half marathon (my very first half marathon) on my baby brother’s birthday a few months after his death while listening to his voicemail on my iPhone.
That was on February 19th. Donny’s birthday. Two Nineteen.
I have since turned this number into a goal, a race goal. And the thing about me is that once I set my mind to something, I make a plan, practice, practice, practice, and then I go get it.
Oddly enough… when I tried to achieve this goal at the McAllen Half Marathon, I cramped up twice and missed my time. I failed.
I went back to basics. I went to Hector Gandara, my run coach and instructor for Valley Running Company’s Running 101 class, and told him that I wanted to sign back up for his class so that I could go back to LiveSTRONG this year and finish at 2:19 for Donny. He put me on a plan.
However, life happens… and I ended up missing a TON of classes. Doing his workouts on your own is very difficult. You don’t really know if you are doing them correctly, if your form is slouching and what hurts the most… the encouragement from your fellow runners. I felt like a foreign exchange student – part of the class but not really.
On that note, I questioned my ability to have progressed like how I was expected to or felt I should have.
After the Port Isabel Longest Causeway 10k run, I was extremely pleased with my time and knew that Coach Hector’s plan was working!!! But that was almost a month ago already. Had I been able to keep the momentum? Enough to finally reach my goal of 2:19? That was the question lingering in my head these last couple of weeks.
Well, as my life goes, everything I plan for ends up changing. Not having a “normal” 9-5 job with a regular income kinda hurt when it was time to pay property taxes so as I crunched the numbers in the family budget… seems that a weekend in Austin running a race was no longer an option. I should have known, too. The signs were everywhere.
I started a new business venture and am super stoked about it. *I’ll talk about it later I’m sure. But the work and the weather conspired against me and cut my workouts to a bare minimum making me really question whether I was able to reach 2:19 at the next available race, the “Get Up And Train” half marathon in Pharr, Tx. This race is now abbreviated to #GUAT.
Race packet pick up for GUAT was yesterday from 9a.m. – 6p.m. I drove up at about 5:30p.m. to late register. I must have sat in the parking lot for another ten minutes thinking to myself “How can I just show up like this so late?” I know most of the race event producers and they’ve become good friends of mine. I can just imagine the headaches I’ll cause being so late. After all they have done for me, this is how I treat them???? Good Lord Myssie!!! Just pass on the race. Suck it up and wait for another one to do when you get your act together.
*sigh*
I walked in trying desperately not be to noticed but the gymnasium was already clearing out and, honestly, I stood out like a sore thumb. I walked up to the registration table and asked to sign up expecting to be immediately turned down because it was too late or too full or too… something. But there she was… beautiful Amanda and her big smile multitasking while turning out some fires that always happen at registration events. With a nod of her head, her eyes pointing in the direction of a registration form… my registration was handled seamlessly.
I returned home to do everything you should NOT do the night before a marathon. I didn’t eat dinner. I stayed up way too late. I didn’t even shower much less shave. TMI? sorry… at least you weren’t running next to me today eh?
Before the race even started, I had already tied my orange jacket around my waist because I was already stoked and warmed up. I wrote “Donny” on my hand so that when I looked down at my Garmin, I would be reminded to go for my goal… Donny’s birthday.
The first mile was difficult. It always is but I found my rhythm by mile 2 and kept with it. There were actually times where I was going too fast and had to slow down a bit. How about them apples? Again, the high fives and hugs and cheers were awesome! Overwhelming at some times, too! But very welcomed 🙂
Once I got to Nolana, I closed my eyes and welcomed the mist as it cooled my face. I remembered the moment I reached the top of the Causeway and felt the same feeling… a euphoric dreamlike state of ecstasy. The playlist helped a bit with that, too.
Surprisingly, the entire run went really smoothly. Just like at the McAllen Marathon, my legs cramped up. I felt the ball of my foot and my toes go numb. While I was running, the thought came through my head… “When was the last time I cut my toe nails? Ouch! I think that’s what I feel. Well, there’s nothing I can do about it now. It’ll probably cause a blister or cut into my skin and bleed. I don’t have my trusty fuel belt with my little band-aid kit so… oh well… run through the pain. Deal with it.” I was pretty strong today. I had to do it. Foo Fighters were screaming in my ear. I had to do it for Donny. I’m not gonna fail again. No sirree!!!
Alright!!! My time is good! My time is really good! Not like Gandara or Kenyan good… but good for being me!!! Just before I hit mile 12, I sneak a peek at my Garmin. I’m way ahead of schedule. I’m going to finish before 2:19.
sooooooo guess what begins playing in my ears?
That’s right… it’s a sign.
2:19 was not a goal. My goal has and always will be to help those who have cancer and find a cure for cancer. THAT’s a goal. 2:19 was a sign.
Yep, a SIGN.
Just knowing I COULD finish in that time was good enough for me. Simple as that.
sooooooooo what do I do?
I took my phone out of it’s case. Went onto Facebook and sent Javi a message. I asked him what Lisa, his wife, was wearing. He responded two minutes later: “pink, long sleeve” The time was exactly 9:23 a.m.
HINDSIGHT: That is not a time. That is a sign. Sissy passed away on September 23, 2011. Nine Twentythree.
I went BACK.
See, I’m a woman of my word. If I tell you I’m going to do something, I’m going to do all I can to make sure I fulfill that promise.
Someone I run with in my all women’s run club (Run Walk or Crawl) had posted a while back about being upset that she may have to cross the finish line by herself and without her family. I could tell it was tearing her apart. There were countless posts that followed hers that stated so much support and understanding from our other sister runners. It was really heartwarming how this group uplifts and encourages each other. My response was something like “I’ll be there with you” or something of the sort. All I remember was that it was the shortest response of the entire string.
So I went back for her so that she wouldn’t have to deal with these last few miles by herself and cross alone. If you’re a runner, a beginner runner especially, it really does help when you have someone by you to push and encourage and drown out that doubter voice in your head. I know.. my inner voice is very loud… and rude.
I began to run the opposite way. I have to admit.. the faces of the runners that saw what I was doing were priceless. “Hey, you’re running the wrong way!” was said over and over and over again. But I kept running – at a good pace, too! – until I saw the familiar face in her long sleeved pink running sweater.
It was exactly 2:19 into my run according to my Garmin.
Lisa looked physically exhausted but still super cute. You know those running shoe advertisements you see in magazines with the sweat beads perfectly placed on their noses??? Ya, she had that.
“How do you feel?” I asked.
“Good!” she responded cheerfully.
“You’re a really good liar. These last few miles are the toughest of this race. I told you I would be there for you when you crossed. I’m here,” and onward we went!
I could feel her pace dropping and she was getting frustrated. I didn’t want her to stop and I could tell she wanted to quit and walk the rest. “We’ll keep running until the sign and then we’ll speed walk. You see the sign? Can you make it to the sign?”
“Yes, ok.” She replied with heavy breath. “Wait.. the first sign or the second one?”
“The second one,” I giggled. She knew now I was there to push her. I wasn’t going to let her give up on herself.
This pattern continued until we turned the corner and saw the finish line. Have you ever heard a smile? I have! And it came from her.
“Look Myssie! There’s the finish line!” she eagerly proclaimed.
“Smile real big now for the cameras. Make it look like this was easy. Papitas!” I told her. And then I cramped. Not just any cramp… it felt like a bolt of electricity was stuck on my calves. “Ayyyyyyy!” I screamed out (while smiling of course). “I’m cramping!”
“Don’t give up Myssie! You can do it. The finish is right there!!!” and the student becomes the teacher.
“Why does it seem like the finish line is moving further away???” she said. We laughed and we crossed and we hugged and we cried and we hugged again.
And here’s her side of the story:
13.1 miles. The Get Up and Train Half Marathon this morning… I started out with the best intentions, vowing to train and PR right around the time that Javi was rounding mile 18 at the McAllen Marathon a few months ago. I was doing pretty well; the most consistent I had been in a while, then the bipolar weather go the best of my training schedule — I showed up this morning having run only once in the last two weeks with a hand full of bike rides sprinkled in there. I was nervous, a little scared… but determined. I knew I would finish… it wasn’t the first one I’d done, but for whatever reason it felt different… probably because I was running this one solo… Javi taking the sideline for me this time. The first 8 miles felt like 3… and I was on track for a 2:30 finish… right around mile 10, my ankle started to ache… and right before 11, I had made the decision to just walk the rest of it…. I had seen Javi a couple of times by now… with water, peanut butter (my drug of choice), and all the encouragement a girl could ask for… but I was feeling pretty defeated… oh well… walk, walk, walk… then, I see this crazy woman running the wrong way… she got closer, and closer, and finally stopped… it was Myssie Cardenas-Barajas… it took me till the end of the race to realize what happened… she had said she would run it in with me… the story behind how this all unfolded is one that only she can tell… but she did… and together, we finished the last couple of miles — approaching to the finish line, the first face I saw was my mom’s… then dad… then Javi… then the babies… then my little brothers… they were all smiling and cheering… something that I had never had at a finish line…that meant the world to me… when Myssie and I crossed the finish line… I hadn’t hit 2:30; but I had PRd… and all I could do was hug her and cry…. I realized she had not only kept her word to me… but, she was kept me going… even reminding me to smile like nothing hurt for the cameras This life is full of obstacles… trials….accomplishments… running is a metaphor for all of it… life is also full of blessings… angels…. and wonderful signs… and today, I experienced all of those…. thank you Myssie… I don’t know how I will be able to repay you for the kindness you’ve shown me. I love you, friend… to my family… it meant everything to me to have you there for me! and for Javi… ay mi amor… there are no words for you
I pick up the phone and see on the caller ID that it’s my doctor’s office. Oh God! They have my results from the mammogram and my cancer screening blood counts. If I let it ring and they’re forced to leave a message, then I’ll know, right? I’ll just listen to the message…
No. I have to know NOW. I pick up the phone just in time.
It’s the nurse. Whew! The moment I heard her voice and didn’t hear her say I needed to come in to see Doc ASAP… I had a feeling.
“Your results came in. You’re normal,” she said.
I think I may have screamed a little and that may have been what caused her to laugh a bit.
I admit, I am one of the lucky chosen few who did not receive the phone call with dreaded news, news that would make you drop to your knees, news that would suck out all your tears, news that would empty your soul of all your dreams and leave you empty of dreams and afraid of time.
My good news was kept to myself and ignited a fire within me to continue my path for those who got that other phone call.
Because the truth is that from the moment you clicked open this blog to read what happened in my day… someone else just got that awful phone call. In fact, every four minutes someone is diagnosed with a blood cancer.
Today was our Triathlon team’s first bike practice. We held a bike rodeo at the Convention Center parking lot and was taught how to change a flat tire, clean and degrease our chains, what tools to have handy, etc. by my bike guru, Wally. He had set up a little tent to shield us from the freezing mist. Poor thing had to speak up because it was hard to hear above the chattering teeth and shivering bodies of my team mates. It was then that even in that dreaded dreary cold weather that I saw the faces of my fellow teammates and how eager they were to learn about how to take care of their bikes (or borrowed bikes) so that they could do well at their first triathlon for TnT. They truly wanted to do well….
Why?
Gosh, I’m really learning to love that question… why.. why?
Just before we got started, Cindy gave us her mission moment. Her honored hero had just lost his battle with leukemia a few days ago. She was quite choked up about it but tried with all her might to be strong and upbeat and positive.
Katherine posted this on our facebook page:
So, today was cold. Today was miserable. If we asked ourselves, deep down, did we want to be at practice today or snugly warm in bed? But we got up and showed up, this is what makes us TNT…. We are like postal workers: neither rain, nor sleet, nor snow, etc…. we deliver! Cause Cynthia gave us all a sobering reminder as why we have to keep fighting. Why this dreadful disease needs to be stopped…..
We all have our own reasons for being a part of Team. No one reason is greater than the other. Bottom line, we’re all in this together. I feel Cynthia’s pain. It is still very fresh in my heart.
My prayers go to the Rodriguez family and especially his wife and two very young children.
It is this very instance that breaks my heart as I remember my two nephews. I haven’t seen them in over a year. Sadly, since the death of my baby brother, it will likely be years before I am ever able to see them again.
Cancer and death does horrific things to a family.
If you’re the praying type, keep families like the Rodriguez’s and mine in your heart as you pray. I’d appreciate it.
Thanks.
Oh! And don’t forget… I’m fundraising again. Please give what you can. Top right corner icon if you’re reading this on a PC. Scroll just below if you’re reading this on a phone.
The very first Team in Training Triathlon Team practice happened on Saturday. We ran just a couple of miles. I don’t really like this about me at all anymore but I’ll be honest. I didn’t really think that was a workout for me. I run a mile as a warm up and another mile as a cool down regularly.
Isn’t that amazing???? I feel so pretentious, proud and guilty at the same time for this!!! Whodathought a few years ago that I, the middle-aged overweight anti-gym bunny sweat is icky girl, could run a whole mile without stopping?!?!?!?
And then Monday came around… it was dark, cold and drizzling rain. I wasn’t really prepared for the wetness so I wore all the wrong stuff. Thank goodness I carry extra gear in my trunk and had my trusty orange wind and water resistant jacket from German!!! It made all the difference in the world.
Coach “W” called out our workout to the group, “Lets go 4 to 5 times over the hill. That should be about 2 miles.”
Ugh! 2 miles again!!! *ya, that’s my attitude that needed some spanking
Off we went! I was, as always, the last to run up. I’m ok with that. I couldn’t hear my music and the rain was accumulating all over me… especially in my hair!!! It made the run more uncomfortable than I expected. But wait… oh… oh no… it’s not the rain that made this uncomfortable for me… it’s my… oh … oh noooooo!!!
Boom! I sprinted across that hill and luckily yelled out to Sarah’s mom who was cheering me on and trying desperately to take a photo of me – I couldn’t smile. “Tell Coach that I need to go to the bathroom! I’m going to Embassy Suuuuuuiiiiiites!!!!”
Whew!!! I made it just in the nick of time. TMI?
Sorry. I’m candid and tell it like it is. Sometimes when you run… pee happens. That’s the truth.
I returned back to the gang and continued my run and obviously the last one to run in because of my kidney explosion.
We gathered back together in a circle to stretch. Coach “W” then said something that snapped me back into reality…
She said that along with coaching us through these next few months of physical training, she would also incorporate some mental training. “W” clenched her fists and pounded her heart as she said “When I speak of ‘spirit’, I don’t mean religion… I mean the inner spirit in all of us. I have a warrior in me.”
Our coach is a cancer survivor. She told us of a childhood memory she had of her being a warrior and how she ran around in her backyard from one side of the fence to the other as her dogs followed her and she imagined them being wolves. She giggled for a while as she reminisced. “We all have a warrior inside of us.”
“We need to remember WHY we are doing this.”
BLAM!!!
2 miles is 2 miles… and it actually ended up being 3! I must never scoff at that ever again. It wasn’t that long ago that I could go only one block. It wasn’t that long ago that it dawned on me that my Momma would never be able to run a mile… ever. That’s when it came back to me. Remember WHY I’m doing this.
So on today, World Cancer Day, I remember. I will likely need reminders again as I am human and get wrapped up in the nothingness of my life. It takes me a while to recognize these little signs but when I do… wow. It’s pretty powerful.
It was pretty overcast and a bit windy today during my morning run. I stayed up late and drank some “demon fluid” – which is something I rarely do!!! I knew it’d affect me in my run today, so I did as much as I could without making myself nauseous. After each mile, I’d stop and do 100 crunches. At about mile 4, the sun poked some rays around the clouds and so I reached over above my head for my sunglasses.
BUT THEY WERENT THERE!!!!
My glasses are pretty special. They’re ORANGE – of course because of my Momma. And they’re Oakley. And they’re LiveSTRONG so the profits made from the sale of those glasses went to help someone who has cancer. Those glasses are not the most beautiful or flattering… But they mean a whole lot to me and I wear them at all my races now.
The thought of losing them destroyed me!! I quickly used the power of my Facebook and made a cry for help to all my friends.
Within minutes… And just a few blocks away, a runner friend jogged up to me with a huge smile on his face. “I saw these by the water fountain and knew they had to be yours. They’re orange and no one rocks orange better than you do. Keep it up. I’m rooting for you.”
Wow!!!!
I finished my run feeling so blessed. I have a wonderful life!!!!!
And then just as I got into my car at Jack in the crack, I noticed a lump of clothing by a tree nearby. It was a homeless man shivering in the morning cold.
Ya…. You know me by now. I believe it was a sign. I pay it forward a lot but I had just found my glasses and need to pay it back with gratitude.
I went into jack in the box and got him a juice and breakfast croissant and placed it by him.
There are about 7 runners who went slowly by me wondering what I was doing. Kinda cool when I saw it show on their faces that they understood immediately and gave me that nod of approval.
Today is Super Bowl Sunday … But it’s me that scored the big one already 🙂
Training in bipolar weather is an adventure. One day it’s 80 degrees and the next day our streets are closed off because of black ice. Makes it difficult for scheduling bike rides or group runs. So on Sunday evening when the sun danced in a cloudless sky, I took the chance to run the trails in Mission. I normally run the 2nd street trail because it’s usually filled with familiar runners… but that’s usually at the crack of dawn. And it was already late in the afternoon.
I took the chance and went to the afternoon runner hangout, Mission Trails. I plugged in my playlist.. a new one.. err old one that I hadn’t really listened to since I was a teenager. It didn’t really have the bpm that I was striving for but honestly I had been sick for a while with congestion and had missed a few days of running so I didn’t know if I could/should push myself into a high bpm and wear myself out and/or get myself even worse.
Kinda cool what a few days of rest does for your body. It was my fastest time in a little over a year. My pace went from an embarrassing 13-some minute mile to a 7:41. I don’t know if it was the rest, the music, the new trail or the thoughts in my head… whatevs… I’ll take it. I did a nice warm up mile and then went full blast into my 7-minute mile. After I saw what I did, I was pretty dang proud and then it happened… squirrel. When I’m at a new place, I’m like a big ol’ kid and have to explore and heaven forbid there be a sign that tells me not to go into a certain area. That’s like a big fancy wedding invitation to me!!! With the exploring into the trails, my time went down a bit but boy oh boy was it fun getting lost!!
My swimming, my running and my cycling have all improved and I’m stoked to begin my new season with Team in Training Triathlon team – the first tri team for tnt in our area! I love my coaching staff. I’ve seen them in action and have already trained with them. Phenomenal in action, genuine encouragement and humble in deed. These are traits that I prosper with and that I’ve seen others do incredibly well, too.
We had our first “kick-off” this weekend and was really impressed with the alumni and newbies that signed up for the challenge. It was a great mix of experienced athletes and excited rookies but all had an immense internal need to do all they could to fight cancer. This was especially evident when our two honored heroes were continuously greeted with hugs and kisses and showered with gifts and goodie bags.
See, the little known incredible fact about MY honored heroes is that they really ARE super heroes. Superman was an animated comic. And as awesome as he was written up to be… kryptonite could still take him down. But MY heroes can run a marathon, can beat cancer and are NOT imaginary comic strips (although they are both very animated). They are both very very real people fighting a very very real enemy to the human race and planet Earth.
In ancient Greece, they looked up to the stars and honored gods that controlled various elements of our world. Today, we can look up to the stars and know that the rest of our heroes have full control of our hearts and empower us with passion enough to change the world. They are our angels.
Today, I think those angels came back to my training schedule. In a time where many parts of our nation and even my city closed because of the unusually fierce cold weather, not a single gust of wind blew this morning. The temperatures went up a few degrees making a bike ride bearable. While it was still a bit chilly compared to our normal temperatures in the Rio Grande Valley, it was no where near what it was like yesterday. Only one other brave soul joined me in the 5 a.m. Wake Up Ride. I’m sure word will soon spread about my weather angels. So long as I continue to do this in their honor and memory, I have full faith that they will ensure a safe and comfortable outdoor workout.
And to make today even more special… I was greeted with a note from a former co-worker and advertising client.
I hope she doesn’t mind but I have to share her words with you.
“Because, you have been such an inspiration to me, and I absolutely think you are truly one of the most truthful and motivational people I know, I would love to have 10% of the ticket proceeds for the McAllen retreat to sponsor you.”
Her kind gesture and donation meant so much to me today because just yesterday I was told that another co-worker (from a different job) had been spreading a malicious rumor about me. The contradiction was pretty amazing. P.S. I’ve worked with some pretty amazing people and I’ve worked with a few crazies … Hasn’t everyone?
It used to be that malicious rumors ran rampant around me at all times by this same group of similar people who (coincidentally?) all run within the same circles of friends. However, now… for every rumor that comes back around to my ears about me, I have ten compliments and kind gestures that muffle and discredit that rumor.
I feel validated in my efforts to give of myself to others. I feel like for all that I do, for all that I sacrifice, that the Big Guy upstairs really IS taking care of me and rewarding me tenfold. You do something nice for someone and someone else will ruin you for it… But God will reward.
I really need to find out about the next ACTs retreat. It’s time.
Oh! Aaaannnnnndddd…. I was asked to sit on the Board of the Rio Grande Valley Colonoscopy Assistance Program. Our first fundraiser is a 5k on March 1 at Fireman’s park in McAllen. I am so honored to have been asked!!!! 🙂
THIS IS HUGE!
My training is working. My fundraising is coming into place. I’m getting recognized for my efforts in my community. I’m gaining support. And people are getting the help that they need!!!!
I recently cleaned out EVERYTHING in the house, the garage, the attic, every closet, etc… and found a lot of things, too many things, that took me to places I had tucked away in my memory. You know that popular hashtag going around social media? #throwbackthursday? Ya, well, this is too much for just a Thursday. In fact, if you combined all the Thursdays in a year, it would still lack enough space to handle these memories.
Lots of good ones… a few bad.
I’m a little embarrassed that I had been a packrat all these years but in a way, so very grateful, too. I made a lot of mistakes in my younger years that I thought I had learned from but for some odd reason was making those very same mistakes once again. Remembering all this reminded me of those mistakes and those lessons and how they pertained to me now.
Mistake #1: Being too shy
Mistake #2: Feeling like no one understood me
Mistake #3: Wishing
But what stood out the most to me was that I was really a good kid, a good teenager, a good young adult, a good adult and a good parent… I just made a few mistakes was all. A few bad choices, some naive misunderstandings and lack of experience should not have made me or anyone else think less of me. So after this lengthy introduction, here’s what I’m getting at: I didn’t need to change my shyness. Being shy is who I am. Feeling like I wasn’t understood by anyone was just my misunderstanding. In fact, I am sure that many of you reading this right this very second can relate to what I was feeling. And there was absolutely nothing wrong with wishing… I just needed to make a plan to make those wishes come true. I simply needed to grow, experience and open my heart… not change.
My parents spent a lot of their time with me and Donny whenever they could. They taught me all that they knew about the importance of family and God and education and work ethic and how you spend your time and who you choose to spend it with. And some how some way, my parents made each lesson jam packed with fun and happiness every single time.
We didn’t have a lot of money growing up – especially in my teenaged years. Donny and I went to a very good private Catholic school (I went all the way from 1st to 9th grade and Donny went from 1st to 5th grade). They struggled to pay the tuition each month and used uniforms each year but they got by. We didn’t have air conditioning or cable or were able to go on summer vacations but we were together and happy. We took weekend trips to Bentsen park and camped out in tents and made s’mores and fished in the river with fishing rods made from tree limbs and bait made from squished up bread on hooks we found along the river bend that others had thrown away.
Amazing that we didn’t have to worry about stepping on those rusty old hooks and spending the weekend in the emergency room getting tetanus shots! Or snakes or illegal aliens crossing over from Mexico hiding in the bushes or coyotes (both kinds) or… cancer.
We could wake up on a bright sunny Saturday morning, watch Looney Tunes and drive away for an hour to South Padre Island with a foam ice chest filled with a big chilled watermelon, cheese sandwiches and bags of doritos and not have to worry about Chemo.
Momma taught me that if I wanted something bad enough, I had to work hard for it. They provided me with enough food to nourish me, clothes to cover me, a house to call a home and love to encourage me. I worked odd job after odd job, many times working at several places at the same time so that I could get my first pair of designer jeans, pay for gas in my car and books for college. I never had to worry about invoices totalling thousands of dollars from MD Anderson every month.
And as I was flipping through all the photos, cards, receipts and memorabilia of yesteryear, my eyes were led to one very special memory. In order for you to get the point of it, I’ll have to set the mood and history for you.
I spent a lot of time alone, grounded, in my room growing up. *Not because I was a bad kid or anything but I think my parents figured out that it was cheaper to find an excuse to ground me than to give me money to go to the movies or play video games on the weekends and they never had the heart to tell me they couldn’t give me money. I would sit on the ledge of my window sill and write in my diary, read the Outsiders over and over again, listen to records and practice smiling in the mirror or curling and braiding my hair and day dream. I was that awkward girl that shot up taller than everyone else in 6th grade (but then stopped growing). I walked with my head down and hardly spoke a word to anyone so when I gave my heart to a boy for the first time and experienced my first heartbreak, Momma was there.
“Don’t let someone keep your heart if they want someone else’s heart,” she said calmly as she was driving making a left turn from 4th street to Sprague. I remember this as if it happened minutes ago. My eyes were focused straight at the stop light. I never looked at her. I never said a thing to her. She hadn’t seen me cry. She didn’t know what had happened or at least I didn’t think she did but clearly now I can tell that she knew. She must have seen the heartbreak in my face. It must be a “Mom” thing.
After speaking to the “Metamorphosis” group of empowered young ladies and listening to some of their challenges (broken families, teen pregnancy, peer pressure, drugs, gangs, grades, homelessness, rape, cancer), it hit me suddenly how I remember being that young and thinking how destroyed I felt when I thought I couldn’t talk to someone because I was so shy or that I thought no one understood what I was feeling or that my wishes would always be doomed to just daydreams in my head. Everything I went through gave me lessons and strength to be able to better cope with the increasingly more complex tribulations of life. As a teen, I experienced everything they experienced. They continue to contact me – and it thrills me to no end – to talk about dreams and mapping out plans to transform those wishes into goals.
One girl, I won’t say her name, reminded me soooooo much of myself. She never said a word. When I asked her a question, she blushed and looked down and to the left and hid under her long mane of hair… just like I used to. She was the first to find me and request me on a social media site. Still hasn’t said a word… but just like my mom knew something was up on that drive home when my heart was broken for the first time.. I know that little girl like I know myself. And I think she’s going to go further than she ever imagined. And I want to be there when it happens.
I am shy by nature but I work on my shyness when the event calls for it. I struggle with public speaking and simply just talking to someone I don’t know yet and it is difficult for me to expose my true self and experiences to others and it’s REALLY hard to ask people for donations… but it’s important for them to know and for me to let it out and to get over that fear. So I don’t change.. I just improve on myself a bit more and a bit more each time and am constantly working on my communication skills because of this. I’ll admit that my first instinct still tells me that no one understands me and the only ones who truly get me are inanimate music lyrics of favorite tunes but once I take that little step back, talk about it to a few trusted friends or even let it out on this blog, the responses that I get tell me that my problems, my emotions and my reactions are no different from so many others out there. I am a dreamer. I kind of like that about me. I hope that never changes because my dreams are big… gargantuan, in fact. But now I can take that dream and figure out a way to make that dream come true. Seriously, whodathought I’d be where I’m at now? Gotta hand it to me, I’ve had a hellovalife! And my dreams aren’t over yet. I’m just getting started.
So as I was emptying that last box in the garage and saw my old pageant crown crushed into pieces under all those memories, I cried just a little bit, regained my composure, smiled a little and continued on. After all, there is a kingdom I still reign over and a sunset I plan to ride off into. A broken crown won’t stop me. It never has.
Never give up on your dreams. Don’t change for anyone but improve on those flaws that stop you from achieving your best you.
RunMyssieRun 