I met Sarah shortly after I ran my first marathon in the summer of 2012. She is like a lot of other little girls and being the mother of two boys, and always wanted a little princess of my own, I gravitated towards her naturally.
Whoa… wait a minute. It must be more than that. Way more than that. Because everyone always gravitates towards her naturally. You can’t help but love this girl the moment you get that first giggle from her!!! Sarah loves to play and run and jump and race and challenge you on the monkey bars. She gives big bear hugs and laughs from deep within her belly. Sarah is a special needs child, but you would never know it. She’s special because she needs help fighting cancer.
At this time, if you’re anything like me… you’d skip all this jargon and skim right over to the pictures I posted of her and think to yourself: Are you kidding me? This little girl has cancer? But she’s so happy and looks so healthy!!! No way!!!
Si guey.
And here’s what really gets me… she and her mother, Anita, are at almost every single one of my practices and events ever since that first meeting in the park. If you’ve read my blog before or followed any of my social media accounts and have seen pictures of me running along the 2nd Street trail, swimming at a pond, lake or video at the Bay on South Padre Island or cycling along the back roads in Mission, chances are that all that footage was taken by Sarah’s mom. Now think back… that’s a whole lot of footage documented!!! Yep! And I can say with all my heart, this woman is probably one of THE most devoted mothers I have EVER met in my life… and I’ve known a lot of great moms!!!
Ever since I got into my health and fitness kick, I’ve heard so many people say,”I would go run (or bike or swim) with you but I just don’t have the time because I have (insert excuse of your choice)”. I always smile and never push, but Anita always comes to mind when I hear people say things like this.
Anita has a child fighting cancer. A NORMAL day of a mother is hectic enough, add to this being a mother of a special needs child with cancer. Now pile on 20-some triathletes who do various workouts all throughout the day all over the county and events all over the State of Texas. Now add on about 50 runners with various distance marathons trampling all over everywhere… and she’s always there.. WITH A SMILE ON HER FACE…and a camera to record YOUR smile.
In February of last year, while at a “mission moment” run at Bill Schupp Park, Anita announced that Sarah was cancer free. I wrote about it in my blog here: https://runmyssierun.com/2014/02/16/blurry/
Her mother, Anita, took center stage for our mission moment. She announced that Sarah had been declared officially in remission earlier this week.
Anita was the first person I ran to when I embarrassingly DNF’d at CapTex last year. I wrote about it here: https://runmyssierun.com/2014/05/29/capital-of-texas-triathlon/
Ashamed, coughing and crying, I ran straight to Anita. I wrapped my arms around her, dug my head into her shoulder and cried out “I didn’t make it. I didn’t make it”
It should be of no surprise that when Team in Training decided to create a TEAM SARAH and asked if would like to be a part of it, a split second hadn’t passed before “YES” blurted out. How could I refuse the adorable little girl who steals all my pickles from my SAG kit?
This is Sarah Morales. She has been my honored hero for several seasons and now I have the honor of being on HER team.
Would you please be on her team, too? We are raising $100,000.00 in her honor so that other children like her can be healed and get assistance. Please give what you can here on this link: http://pages.teamintraining.org/sctx/nbhtri15/mcardenasb
December 2013 I wanted to continue to do 26.2s but could only finish a 13.1.
Because I’ve always said to never ever give up to so many people, I didn’t want to be that person who doesn’t practice what I preach. I came back to this December with the intention of finishing what I said I was going to do last year but knowing what I wanted to continue to do, I announced after completing this full marathon that it would be my last.
December 2014 I completed my third and last 26.2
Immediately after posting on social media that it was my last, I was bombarded with questions and disbelief.
You can see my response. I chose to do extreme events to prove a point, to raise eye brows and make people aware of the reason I was doing them… cancer. In the last three years, training and preparing for these events have thrown me into the world of health and fitness… a world that I was never really a part of. It is fascinating!!!!
The struggles within that world are perpetual and ever changing with a flare of darwinism.
The struggle to overcome your own self-doubt.
The struggle to bypass the nay-sayers.
The struggle to abide by the rules of nutrition, physical exertion, rest and keeping it all consistent.
The struggle to keep your competitive nature in balance to where it pushes you but doesn’t make you go to extremes.
The struggle to understand that even when everyone around you are popping pills, drinking chemicals, Pre-workout in the a.m. and Ambien in the p.m., injecting shots to be thinner, faster, stronger… it clicks… is that really healthy? Is that really fitness? or is that because they’re comparing themselves to someone else? My struggle to make my life healthier and become more fit also comes with a lot of education, the release of comparison and judgement of others and the inclusion of not just a healthier body but a healthy mind and spirit. My struggle is to remain natural and chemical free even if my times don’t change or get worse and my weight increases as I get older. My vision of healthy and fit doesn’t match the vision of many others. I don’t judge or look down on anyone who does the above. I simply stay quiet and gracefully decline when they insist I take this pill or drink this pre-workout. The perception of healthy and fit is as tricky to define as beauty.
The struggle can sometimes be overwhelming. And at Mile 22, it seems like an inevitable plunge into the abyss of bleh.
Running a marathon forces you to have some pretty deep discussions with yourself for a few hours. And while admittedly, some of MY discussions are a bit delusional, there are points of clarity that can be reached in this process that can never be touched on in any other situation. I’ve made some monumental decisions, plans and goals while running marathons and training runs. This marathon, the McAllen Marathon, had great discussion, debate and decisions made… up until mile 22. It went all crazy after that.
Let’s begin with my training for this event… it was odd and lonely without my Team in Training teammates running by my side this season. I wanted to spend these last few months with my eldest son before he left to the Military on the first of December so I backed out of TNT this season and trained on my own “when life allowed me to”. Life isn’t very consistent with me. But one thing holds true about life with me… when I PLAN things out (like a workout calendar).. they’re sure to never happen as planned. Many times, my long runs on weekends had to be skipped because hubby wanted to go hunting at the ranch or was called in to work or one reason or another.
But even though I wasn’t part of this season’s TEAM, I was still asked to help encourage so I’d go write inspirational cheers with chalk on the side walks of the trail. Twice it rained and washed away my pretty graffiti. But word got around quickly and I began to hear chatter about how others can cheer and encourage runners. And I’m really really glad that happened!!!
Team let me wear my purple jersey and meet up with them on race morning to do my traditional “selfie” but didn’t get to see Jeanice for my traditional prayer.
Remembering how well that super spray made my legs feel at my last “redemption” triathlon, I sprayed the beegeezus outta that can onto my legs. I’m sure I reeked of menthol downwind for three miles. I stretched and jumped and stretched and jumped. I found my playlist, planted my earbuds, took more “selfies” in the crowd, programmed Nike Run and my Garmin and Kapow! We’re off!!!
I started off slow and easy. It was a nice comfortable pace that allowed me to quickly find my rhythm for endurance. So long as I kept this pace – which matched the beat of my music on the playlist, of course – I knew I’d be fine. The course was the same that I remembered from last year. I was feeling good. Deep down, I wanted to go faster but knew the consequences if I did. I felt only a slight discomfort in my shoes. They felt heavy today, like if I was scurrying in bricks. My kick was low and my stride was short. I remembered Coach Jose saying short strides were good for marathons because it reduced the occurrence of injury. Eh, so I didn’t think anything of it.
As I trotted up 29th Street close to the neighborhood I used to live in, I saw the sun peek out above the tree line on the East horizon. And there he was… a man in full gear, gas mask, boots, heavy uniform, carrying the United States Flag.
“Michael!!! Michael has to run like that!!!” I screamed to myself. The first round of tears shot out remembering my baby boy was far away from me at boot camp doing just this! Just like I saw in my first marathon in San Diego… but this guy was clearly already hurting… and it was just the first couple of miles in.
Oh good Lord, please, have mercy on him! I hope he’s not doing the full marathon this way!
The cheerleaders up and down 29th street were amazing! People were out on lawn chairs, Cyndi, Tony & Miriam, Miss Connie – Michael’s piano teacher and her little girl and neighbors, Drew, Kat & Anita, and countless others all with posters and yelling at the top of their lungs!!!
THIS
WAS
AWESOME!
I was at a solid 11:00 minute per mile pace. I fluctuated only by a few seconds up and down at each mile up to about Mile 12. This pace is nothing phenomenal but to me, finally finding a steady pace without stopping is monumental!!! I hadn’t stopped at all. *This was something that Xavie – hubby – had been harping on me for months about. I had planned to do solid tens but in the last couple of weeks of training, decided to take it down by one minute. BUT MY FEET WERE KILLING ME!!! As the songs on my playlist ended, there were about 3 seconds between songs and I could hear squeaking. My feet were squeaking!!! What in the world???
LuHuan, a team mate of mine had come in to pace me for a few miles. She complimented me on my steady strong pace and then kept quiet. She had been running with me for a few years now and knew what worked for me… music. So she allowed me to zone out and focus on my breathing and the beat.
After a few more miles, Ronnie joined me for a short while but my pace was way too slow for him. A part of me wanted to speed it up but didn’t. I was afraid of risking the endurance – it suddenly got really humid and didn’t want to chance anything… so Ronnie popped off to pace another.
I was alone after that for the rest of the race. I saw Tanya and the group of girls I had hoped to join up with just ahead and knew there would be no way I could catch up with them at this point unless I really booked it. They looked strong. I waved and nodded as they went opposite me on the overpass. I jumped it up a bit to catch up to them.
However, by the time I made it around to the point where the course turns West, I saw Miguel across the street closing up the full marathon participants. Race crew volunteers were following him in trucks picking up orange pylons off the street as he passed them. I yelled across the street to him and threw him my hand signs. He yelled and threw them back.
My teammates had walked Miguel in to the finish line just one month ago at his FIRST full marathon. This guy is a beast! He went on to do another FULL marathon just one month later… which is why I wanted to be by his side this time. It takes a lot of determination to do something THIS grand!!!
That’s when my big bright idea came to me. I have no one waiting for me at the finish line. I had already warned my family that I would be very late coming in. I was pretty much free to take as long as I wanted and enjoy the day. I decided to slow it down again and wait for Miguel so that I could cross the finish line with him. *Miguel is someone quite phenomenal and someone who inspires me. I’ve done something like this only once before and that was for Lisa Cavazos at the Get Up and Train 1/2 Marathon. She’s someone who inspires me as well but it was why I turned around that made me reminisce about it. She was a little emotional about not having family at the finish line there for her and didn’t want to be alone after such a feat. I didn’t have anyone waiting for me either and I wasn’t looking forward to being alone either. So, why not cross with someone who inspires and not be alone?
Just as I had convinced myself to wait for Miguel, I saw a woman ahead of me turn into the parking lot at Travis Middle School. She slowly sat down and then laid down. I sped up to see if she was ok. She said this was her first full marathon and was cramping up, needed to stretch and that her husband was on his way to pick her up. I asked her if she wanted me to help her stretch. I guess she thought I was a crazy stranger because she kept saying her husband was on his way and declined. I tried to gracefully convince her to stand up and keep moving. I remembered that stopping immediately after running all these miles was very dangerous. You need to slowly cool down for your body to adjust to a normal status.
The volunteers from the water station nearby saw what had happened. Clearly she was in the dreaded “bite me” zone all my teammates had warned me about. She wasn’t listening to me so I let the volunteers go do their thing.
I went on… stuck in my ear plugs and jammed on. It was beginning to get really hot and humid but the breeze was doing it’s part to console me. As I continued North up Bicentennial, I got the good tunes on my playlist. My mood changed and it seemed as if there were water stops every two blocks… I was taking an easy stroll now. MMMMM orange slices, pineapple and water… oh but my feet need to soak in a raspa!!! I don’t know what happens to my mind at about mile 18… my fantasies about raspas become quite… unhealthy.
I’ve made a purposeful effort to never show pain in my face when running these crazy events so when I see a photographer, I force a smile and make sure Momma sees my hand sign telling her that I love her. But this photographer I saw was different… she had two dogs and was prettier than all the others. It was Laura!!! And she was getting after me because she wanted a good shot and I had pineapple in my mouth and was prancing. She yelled at me to run!!!
Ok ok… the things I do for a photo op!!!
I paused for a while and told her I would go up for just a few miles and then wait for Miguel to join up so that we could cross the finish line together. I didn’t know how long she had planned to stay there and didn’t want to force her to stay longer but had hoped that knowing my plan, IF she did stay to see him go by, she’d text me and I’d have a better ETA of him meeting up with me. So far over the last couple of years of friendship, she’s been pretty spot on about reading my brain waves…
Not but a couple of miles after that, I was asked by another streetside cheerleader if I was ok. “Yes, I’m good… just slow is all.” He responded with “Another runner collapsed and didn’t make it. Just making sure you’re ok.”
“Ya, ya. I’m fine.” — I didn’t think anything of it at the time. When he told me, I just thought a runner fell and didn’t cross. Being the clutz that I am, I thought they knew I was clumsy and probably was showing signs of the wobbles.
“Oh lord, am I looking pathetic to people now? Am I showing signs of fatigue? Are people worried if I’m going to make it? Should I throw in the towel? Are people making fun of me? Are they doubting me?” The wicked voice of doubt in my head became louder and louder as each painful step forward was taken.
“Just don’t stop Myssie! Don’t stop and you’ll be fine.” I kept repeating to myself. Hubby had told me a few weeks before that even if my pace decreased, so long as I didn’t stop, I’d be fine. “But I have to wait for Miguel!”
Another cheerleader friend saw me and ran up to me, dousing me with water from head to toe. “Are you ok?” she asked me. “Yes, yes. I just can’t stop!!! I can’t stop!” I must have sounded like a lunatic to her. In hindsight, I probably was!!!
In the last couple of miles, I waited for Miguel. I was walking and positioned my eyes Southward down Bicentennial but still couldn’t see him. I began to worry. A lot!!! “Was he the runner who fell? Why hasn’t Laura called or text me? He should be here by now.” I said to myself. And then another race volunteer drove up in a truck and said “Ma’am, we need you to keep going so we can close up the course. We’re pulling the runners off the course but you’re so close, you need to finish now.”
With no sign of Miguel, I hung my head and went forward… stuck my earbuds into my head again and trotted forward. My phone rang. Seriously??? EVERYONE important to me KNOWS I’m running!!! Who’s calling me???
It was my cousin Charlie. “He must be calling about going to the ranch and forgot I was running today,” I thought. I disconnected. He called again. I disconnected AGAIN. He left a message.
One mile away from the finish line… I listened to the voicemail he left.
That’s when it all started to make sense. Tears rolled down my cheeks.
No. Not Scott. No. No way… Oh God! No. No. I’m at the end of the marathon and my mind plays tricks on me and these are crazy thoughts. They’re just crazy thoughts that I misunderstood.
But the tears kept coming down and I couldn’t catch my breath. My feet were in so much pain. A pain like I’ve never felt before EVER running EVER. and I just could not stop crying.
Rolando jumped out of the stands and saw me struggling. I wasn’t but just a half block away from the finish. He put his arm around me and pushed. “Go!” He yelled.
And in all the events I’ve run, I’ve always smiled at the finish and threw up my hand sign to Momma letting her know I love her… except for this one. The camera caught me struggling, crying at the finish.
No smile. No “I love you” hand sign. This finish was the most difficult of all events.
i wobbled to the car.. by myself.. no finisher picture this time. Called hubby, told him I finished and that I was ok and he immediately said “Call Sasha now. Let her know we’re here for her.” I couldn’t call her. I sent her a text. I remembered all too well how I felt after my brother Donny had passed away. I couldn’t talk to anyone. I knew she couldn’t either.
Twenty six point two miles done. And I just didn’t have the heart to rejoice.
For those of you who are local to the McAllen region and Rio Grande Valley, you know the rest of this story. For those of you in the rest of my blogosphere, Scott was a great City Councilman for the City of McAllen. The McAllen marathon was an event that he helped originate because of his love of running marathons. He was the Scott that was on my cousin Charlie’s voicemail. He had removed himself from the race at about mile 20 and went home with his brother and his sister in law who had also run the race but collapsed shortly after of a massive heart attack.
Hundreds came to show their respects at the convention center. However, it was the running community that clearly made their marks upon the hearts of all the Valley afterwards what the power and unity and respect amongst runners truly is.
The same night a memorial service was held to celebrate the life of Commissioner Scott C. Crane, hundreds of people showed up to run or walk in his memory at Town Lake Park in McAllen. Here is a touching tribute in honor of the community leader and a look back at the Scott C. Crane Memorial Run.
Run. Run if you can for as long as you can as fast as you can for your own reason. Run or jog or walk or do what ever it is that makes you feel alive. It is a gift, a gift that is not guaranteed will be here tomorrow.
Last week, I met a woman and her son at a luncheon… her name is MOM. This is her story:
Evan’s Mom told us her story and what Vannie Cook Cancer Clinic did for Evan and her family. As she spoke, her voiced cracked a few times and tears rolled down her face… Evan stood by her patting her back trying to comfort her. These are the stories, these are the families that YOU help. Please read her speech and see the other children of Vannie Cook Cancer Clinic at the end of this post.
Mom that’s my name I don’t have any other name but mom. I remember the first time hearing doctors and nurses calling me mom, it seemed odd to me, having grown adults calling me mom…But that’s who I am …Mom.
In November of 2010, around Thanksgiving time, my son Evan got the flu. We gave him Tamiflu and after five days when he was still sick, I took him back to his pediatrician. The pediatrician told me we had to go right away to the hospital. Evan needed to be admitted into ICU …this sense of urgency or fear a sort of internal siren went off! I remember I wanted to run… I wanted to grab Evan and leave …drive far away and never look back. I was scared …The “mom” inside me knew there was something wrong.
The next morning I met a doctor who said, mom I’m Dr. Bernini, as he introduced himself …. By that evening the same doctor would say the words that would shatter my world as I knew it: MOM YOUR SON HAS LEUKEMIA.
Cancer? leukemia? The word paralyzed me, I heard it but was it a dream ..more like a nightmare? I recall I couldn’t feel my legs …I was weak… and before I knew it I was sitting. You can’t even see what’s going on around you because your eyes are blurred from the tears that won’t stop coming … Family members, they mean well, are researching … And emailing you information on St. Jude and other treatment options. You are trying to be a mom and just comfort your son but you have to get him well too … Fast. Between the blurred vision, the advice coming from every direction, and the feeling of being paralyzed …the only thing I do remember .. Is feeling Dr. Bernini grab my hand and hearing him say, Mom I promise to do all that I can to save your sons life.
I have 3 children 2 daughters who are now 10 & 8 and my son Evan 5 yrs old. Cancer is a beast and doesn’t just pick on one he picks on the entire family. His sisters quickly saw the change of Evan’s once terrible two’s personality become more like that of an 80 year old mans. Our daughter’s needed my husband and I …and we all needed each other more than ever.
Evan battled leukemia for over 3 years … He was bald, had surgeries, port infections, fevers, hospital ICU sick stays, side effects from chemo, went bald …Grew hair … threw up …a lot …slept …a lot, slept none – on steroids … Got swollen, gained weight, then got much too thin …. None of the things I imagined for my only son … Nothing a mom would ever imagine for their child. Cancer is a nightmare for the entire family …and I would be lying if I said I never had nightmares of Dr. Bernini calling me to tell me Evan’s counts are off. It lurks… and haunts our family. So as a mom one can only imagine how helpless Cancer can make you feel.
To be in McAllen not so far from where we live in Harlingen, has been such a blessing for that reason. If I didn’t have Vannie Cook Clinic, I don’t know how I would have dealt with still being a mom of 3 and a wife. Life keeps coming at you … During the almost 4 years of treatment Evan had, there are birthdays, deaths in the family, siblings with colds, car batteries that die and of course bills to be paid. LIFE. Imagine being behind on your mortgage then finding out your AC is shot, its 92 degrees in your house, and the fridge decides to go out too …your house smells of spoiled food …. But the worst part your son has a 102 fever and pneumonia and needs to go to the hospital. It’s not a doctor’s visit it’s a hospital stay when you have Cancer … And can be life or death. If you didn’t feel completely helpless during this entire time well now you feel as if life is picking on you And U want to just scream out …what more do you want ?! . That day I wanted to throw my hands in the air and just give up -I felt guilt knowing my son Evan never gives up….I called and talked to a nurse at Vannie cook, and then confided in the social worker, Yadhira … Some days she’s the only person that can get anything out of me because I’m just so drained …. Yadhira, the social worker was able to find resources that helped us pay for a new motor that fixed our AC and located financial assistance that helped us make a payment to our mortgage company within days. Evan stayed in the hospital for 4 days and thanks to the clinic’s social worker, I was able to keep focus on just him. It was our saving grace … And believe me when I say there’s no way to get through this long journey without that grace.
I remember the first time I walked into The Vannie Cook Clinic and I looked around. There were bald children and nurses and it seemed like a friendly atmosphere but I remember thinking … We don’t belong here. My son doesn’t belong here. Today I stand here and tell you that I am Mom …but in a matter of days that changed …somewhat. …I am a mom with a son who has/had cancer. As you look around this room… really look at the moms, the dads… who have a son or daughter who has cancer … We were once like everyone else.
My name is Mom and my family is part of The Vannie Cook Clinic…my son belongs at The Vannie Cook Clinic, it’s the place where we feel safe …. God bless Dr. Bernini, Dr. Erana, Dr. Ramirez, Ruthann and all the nurses and staff… God bless you all for being here … And God bless The Vannie Cook Clinic.
If you would like to help and donate to the Vannie Cook Cancer Clinic, please follow the link here: DONATE
Mom and Me I admire her bravery and hope that more can be done so that no mother ever has to face this ever again.
Celebration of Heroes Fashion Show
The children of VCCC modeled fashions from Zoodles in McAllen. At the end of the show, Zoodles announced that each of the children could keep the clothes they were styled in. I wish you could have seen their faces!!! They were so excited.
So remember that busy week I was telling you about a few posts ago??? Yep, it happened!
Fabulous fixie with orange wheels donated by Wally’s Bike Shop for our auction!!!
We hosted a fabulous mixer at Cimarron Country Club last Thursday. Auctioned off a wicked awesome fixie donated by my trusty and generous bicycle guru, Wally’s Bike Shop, and some ticket concerts to a great show coming up and honored a great local gastro doctor who jumped on board to help with the cause. RGV CAP board members even jumped in on the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge!!!
Monies generated from these events go to Rio Grande Valley residents who are at high risk of colon cancer and are unable to afford a colonoscopy. Since colon cancer is one of the MOST curable cancers if found in it’s early stages, many understand and empathize with the passion we have to this cause and supported it with all that they could. I’m so grateful for the amount of support we have received!!!!
Oh how I wish Momma would have found her cancer in an earlier stage.
But I know.. I know..
This was peak week for my training and I’m pretty pleased. I’ve swam more than I ever have and feel very comfortable at the pace that I’m at and my form seems to be improving each time I practice – thanks to Coach W’s drills every Wednesday. I still wish I didn’t have my crazy reactions in the ocean water but am reassured that Town Lake in Austin won’t make me swell up like that with the ictchies or wheezies. My running was probably the sport that I needed the MOST improvement in. It sure is humbling to see me go from where I was to where I am now. But again, I’m not going to beat myself up about it. So long as I am moving forward, I know I’ll get there. I’m feeling healthy and strong and mentally… I’ve put that sarcastic, doubting voice in my head securely in place… with some duct tape 😉
I sure miss riding my bike as often as I did. But I had to work on my weaknesses. Cycling to me is FUN so I know that on game day, I won’t be riding with my legs, I’ll be riding with my heart. As I should be.
Getting over my personal disappointment on my swim at CapTexTri will be an adventure. But I’m confident I’ll beat my demons. Lets watch and see!!! My story is yet unwritten and only me and my coach have my goals.
Self improvement has lessons every day and on various subjects.
I had just gotten out of the pool and finished my run/swim brick when I saw an old friend and greeted him with a big, wet, sopping hug. It had been a few years since we had talked and caught up quickly under the beating sun by the pool.
“I was worried for you for a while. Just a few years ago you were on top of the world in Real Estate and at Rotary Club.” He beamed a huge smile when he said that.
“But then it was like the weight of the world was on your shoulders. And you bounced back. I see it every day but you probably don’t. You have touched so many people with what you have done. Don’t ever forget that.”
He went on to tell me that he’s heard of so many women who had similarly taken a back seat to their family once they reached a certain age or pivotal point in their lives. He also said that those same women saw what I was doing and challenged themselves to attempt their own similar goals regardless of their age or athletic background. His words were so validating to the laps I had just finished and the goal that swam around in my head. THANK YOU PATRICK!!!
Most of my life (with the exception of my pageantry years), I sat on the side lines in the stadium stands cheering on those I loved and taking photographs of them doing awesome physical feats. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought I would be doing what I’m doing today. I am lucky – seriously lucky – that I entered this journey with some highly experienced athletes that had incredibly generous, patient hearts. They understood my personal goals. They respected them and never once tried to alter them. They were MY goals.
I had a goal many years ago to become Miss Texas and then Miss America. I was fixated on it. In four years, I entered 22 pageants and won or placed finalist in 20 of them. The only 2 that I didn’t place or win was Miss Texas. I was really really good at winning. I was uber competitive. So much that I became another person. I was constantly checking out the other competition, reviewing their stats and videos, finding their weakness and making that my strong point. I became that wicked evil girl that pageant reality tv shows spotlight for the drama and ratings.
And that really wasn’t who I was but it was quickly who I was becoming. Thank goodness for Julie and Noe who both sat me down and opened my eyes about their friend they missed inside of me. Noe’s words in the courthouse parking lot will forever echo in my head… “Why are you ALWAYS comparing yourself to them?”
I aged out of pageantry, retired and hung up my heels but went on to “train” countless winners successfully with that lesson in mind. “Don’t compete against the others. Compete against yourself. Make yourself a better person.” And that’s exactly how my pageant trainees won.
These women didn’t find a characteristic about another contestant to make fun of while saying it was all fun and games. They didn’t use passive aggressive antics to play with the minds of other contestants nor spread gossip and innuendo around the contestants. They won on their own merit… not by trying to dim the light of the others.
Your light does not shine brighter by dimming the light of others.
Long story short(er)… I understand that some people thrive on competition. I, however, DO NOT. I do not like who I become when my ruthless, competitive spirit emerges. It takes great effort to muffle that person that I did not like within myself (nor did anyone else like). I am a goal oriented person. My focus is on MY finish line… not someone elses. My goals are measured by me, internally, by small incremental babysteps that go in one direction… FORWARD. So that when I fall, when I fail to achieve that step I was planning on, I know how to get back up and keep moving because I’ve been there already.
Larisa, my Matron of Honor, at my wedding almost 20 years ago!!!
On Tuesday, I was able to put those mental blinders on my Matron of Honor, Larisa, as she ran two miles with me for the first time. She was inundated with the same fears we all have.
I’m too old to run this fast
I’m too old to run this far
I’m too fat to run this fast
I’m too fat to run this far
I’m too out of shape to run
I haven’t run since high school
My knees hurt
My ankles hurt
My hip hurts
I stayed by her side the entire time and put my iPhone on my arm with the speaker towards her. “Keep the pace of the music and we’ll be just fine. Pump your arms and keep your hands above your waist at all times otherwise you’ll get chorizo fingers at the end of the first mile.”
“YES!!! I do get chorizo fingers!!!” she exclaimed. That’s when the light bulb turned on and she gained faith in that I knew a little bit about what I was talking about.
“Ok, we’re going to jog from here to the light pole and then walk to the next but still keep our hands relaxed and up. You’re going to feel yourself losing your breath. That’s ok. Sing or whisper Mary had a little lamb. Trust me. I know it sounds crazy but it will get your breathing back to normal.” Ya, I think I lost her trust on that one.
I kept her stride short like the marathon shuffle and the conversation shorter so she didn’t feel pressured to talk and show the embarrassment of losing her breath to me because I know I am embarrassed to hear my own gasping breath. I needed her to finish this with strength and confidence to come back and double what she did today the following week.
Those last two light poles she hit the fastest pace she ran the whole time! She ended her two miles strong and fast and our conversation ended with the topics of glide and sports bras. SHE DID IT! SHE DID IT! And then she joined the rest of the gang for a beer. *I went home 😦
It doesn’t matter what your limitations are. With the right people around you who understand and share and/or respect your goals, anything is possible. A few people can do this all by themselves. I am not one.
Like I said before, some people thrive off of competition. I do not. I thrive off of the positive energy and enthusiasm of those around me who also have big goals. There is a BIG difference.
If you are considered a friend of mine, please, know that I will never compete against you. If you try to force me to compete, I will either distance myself from you or let you beat me by not putting forth effort… or both. Beating you is not my goal.Beating CANCER is.
So to clarify, my next event is not including fundraising for a cancer organization. It is to make myself a better person inside. I am still healing and thankful that I have found a healthy outlet to do so for myself and my family. I have to do this one for myself so that I can know that I can keep moving forward. I fell off the horse at CapTexTri. This is me getting back on the saddle again. I gave my goals to my coach. In a nutshell, my goal is just to finish it.
That’s all I need to make me happy with myself again. Just finish it.
And then I’ll get back to my promise to Sissy and Momma in the right state of mind, love in my heart and surrounded by good, supportive people.
Shortly after the tragic death of Eddie Arguelles, Wally announced that the Hell of the South would officially be re-named Eddie’s Hell of the South in remembrance of him since it was his favorite race to do. I had been looking forward to this race this year from the moment I finished it last year.
The difference this year was that Eddie was not riding by my side. What remained the same was that Monette, his wife, and their children were.
There is an incredibly high degree of honor and pride in being a part of this underground, not-so-talked-about, super secret squirrel race. There’s even more pride in taking first place! The bragging rights hold the utmost prestige among the riders not only because of the degree of difficulty of the course but because of the camaraderie that surpasses competitiveness… it is the ultimate example of good sportsmanship that I have ever experienced. Which makes my experience last year with Eddie, Javi, Kelly, Ramon and Wally that much more special because everyone made us feel as if we came in first even though we were the “back of the pack”.
Finishing HOTS made us winners.
This year, as I had hoped last year, I was not the only girl. Everyone knows I adore a good love story and this year love was in full bloom! This was all my blessing because the better halves rode the course with us this year and made for some excellent company!
When you are out for hours at a time on a bike ride, you begin to pass the time with some pretty deep conversations and trusted friendships between cyclists are often formed. At least this is what I experienced this year. So hearing their stories of new love or enduring love fed into my romantic side and I looked forward to each new ride.
Ok… lets get this story started!!
At 6:00 a.m. a huddled mass of eager cyclists circled around Wally. He gave a sweet, short talk about how Eddie loved this ride and it was enough to move several of us to tears. Clearly this was not the crowd to break down in front of so we all quickly manned up and wiped away any trace of emotional liquid escaping from our eyes and we tried to disguise our actions by adjusting our glasses and/or wiping lens. He quickly went over the rules and course description and then called for a group photo.
I have to admit… I did get a little nervous when he did the head count. Did he think some of us wouldn’t come back? (Wally, if you’re reading this, please don’t answer that if you thought I was going to be one of the lost heads)
The girls stuck together as we all ventured off into the rolling start. Lisa was clearly the most nervous of us all. Laura was her chipper self and completely unphased of the challenge ahead of her. But at this point, what I’ve learned about Laura is that she really CAN do anything she sets out to do. This would be papitas for her. Irma, like her husband, was a quiet force. Without a word, I could see the intensity of her desire to conquer this challenge. And then Velisa… the supreme wonder woman who had finished the SB250 just days before. How she convinced her sit bones and legs to ride 250 miles from McAllen to San Antonio and then another 56 from McAllen to Sullivan City and back in the roughest toughest terrain ever imaginable is completely beyond me.
So the rolling start was nice paced. It gave me time to catch up with Ironman Billy who updated me on his new puppy and field questions from the girls on what to expect in the next coming miles. The troops of SAGs were vigilant in keeping us safe and photographing us every split second of the ride. They were certainly the most cheerful paparazzi I’ve ever encountered!!
The expressions on our faces should say it all!!!
And before I knew it, the pavement ended and the games began!!! The pros hit it hard and zoomed off as if the Tour de France started with them. Where’s the cloud of dust? What happened to the tree branches slapping me with thorns? What happened to all the guys who had flats in the first segment???? Ohhhhhhhhh yaaaaaaa…. nice job Border Patrol for making the trail wider and for flattening out the road and for adding more gravel and caliche to the pot holes!!!
The increase of illegal border traffic had clearly pushed our Federal system to make changes to these little dirt trails so that their jobs could be done easier. Nice! It made for a much better and easier ride than last years!!!
Well… except for THAT pot hole! Oh! and that one there!!!! Oops! Oh God! Velisa! Watch out for that one! ugh! Whew! Ok, that first part was a lot easier than I expected it to be. We had already reached the overpass by the Butterfly park and my confidence was starting to sky rocket. If the rest of this trail was taken care of like this first part… maybe this was going to be papitas after all for me, too!!! And then I remembered… Hey, didn’t I start thinking like this at this very point last year? And then I vocalized it…
“This is where I got fooled last year.”
Velisa caught on and immediately warned the rest of the girls… “Myssie just said that this was where she got fooled… that must mean there’s something coming up!!!” She deciphered my coy smile very well.
The pavement ended once again but not before Ramon forewarned us “Keep some distance between us.” Ahhh yes, the gravel!
My eyes immediately went to try to identify tire tracks of trucks that had compacted the gravel trail the most and the bike tires that followed them. All I saw were fishtailed bike tracks swerving from one to the other. Oh NO! Which ones do I follow???
Stay to your right Myssie!! Go right!!!
Oh thank God! She’s back! My sarcastic inner voice has returned and seemed to offer some helpful… demands. I go right and although I fishtailed like the rest, I was able to keep my Mimi steady enough to not fall. The additional gravel, I thought, would help with the road. I was wrong. It seemed to make the fishtailing even worse.
Don’t you let go! Don’t let go! Keep her steady. Come on! You got this. You did it last year. Don’t you dare DNF this one. That’ll surely put you at the top of XXXX’s hater stories if you mess this one up.. and this one will finally be true! Do you want that to happen?
No! No! I don’t! I can’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen! Nor will I let those stories and gossip limit or define me. No! No!!! I WILL FINISH THIS! And I’m going to do it to the best of my ability and I’m going to have the most fun doing it, too!!! So there!!!
Suddenly I was filled with a quest. BEST. FEELING. EVER.
I looked up. The sun was shining. It was beautiful! I looked down. My hands weren’t in their “death grip”. In fact, I had two fingers sticking out. I was loose. I was in control. I was having fun!!! Lisa yells out “I think I feel my brain rattling.”
Hahahahaha!!! Yep! That’s the feeling!!! That’s what I like about her… she’s exactly the way I was last year with my fears and she’s gutsy enough to vocalize them genuinely to the world. Javi, her husband was right by her side. I knew he would take great care of her. There was absolutely nothing to worry about with those two. Onward I went passed the rail road tracks and the gravel ended. Then I heard the woes from the other girls… “What is that? Is that a… ”
Yes, it’s a field. A field where they grow crops like sugar cane, grain sorghum, cotton, etc. Without looking I could still see their heads wonder.. “Oh my God, are we riding through a field???”
But then I hear Laura say “What’s that sound?”
Every couple of seconds I’d hear a squish. Was it a bird? There were a lot of chachalacas. Is that what a chachalaca sounds like?
“Wait, it sounds like it’s coming from my bike,” I say.
“Do you have a flat?” Laura asks.
I look down. “Yes… oh no!!!”
The whole back of the pack stops and I dismount Mimi. Ugh! I have to change my tire. Last time I tried to change a tire, I ended up ripping the tube apart. And just like that… it was almost like the heavens parted and the angels sang… and Fernando walked up as if he was the love child of Chuck Norris and McGyver.
“Ill take care of that for you.”
And faster than you can say Speedy Gonzalez… it was all over with. Done. Papitas! Flat fixed.
Lisa counted this as a blessing for her to catch up with the group and Laura took this time to go potty behind the SAG truck.
“It’s Wally,” says Laura. “He’s probably calling to see where we are.”
Guilt overwhelms me. Because of my flat, we broke off from the rest of the group and he was worried about the love of his life. Awwwwww!!! 🙂
“I’m sorry Wally,” I cried out as we rolled past him now at this point since he stopped during his freak out session. “I had a flat and they stayed behind with me.”
I could tell he was a little upset. Ok, a lot upset. I felt bad.
But that feeling didn’t last long because just ahead of us was the steepest caliche hill of the course. This is the one where my sarcastic voice let me have it when I got off.
Ok Myssie. This is a tough hill girl. You know what to expect. You know you can do it. You conquered Nevada. You can do this. *See, last year, I didn’t make this hill. I had to unclip and walk up.
I saw the rest of the gang slowly climb the hill. Lisa was right in front of me. Yay!!! She did it!!! Oh you should have heard her voice when she got to the top!!!
Argh!!! But I didn’t!!! Again. I lost hope in myself and got off. I walked it just like last year. My sarcastic voice had it with me. She gave me the silent treatment and I think that was probably the harshest thing to do to me at that point.
I hopped back onto Mimi and mashed it hard. We were riding along the Border Fence. The feeling was surreal again. The pot holes were deeper and scattered all over the place but that didn’t seem to phase us one bit. My Garmin marked us at 23 mph on that caliche.
I knew what I was feeling was exactly the same thrill that the others had in their hearts. We were all concentrating so hard on not falling victim to the caliche pot holes that all our problems were nonexistent. The hot humid wind was blowing in our faces and as we kept fighting the circumstances, the border wall kept getting higher. Yes!!! We’re doing it! We’re doing it!!!
But first… lets take a selfie.
The back of the pack took formation. I walked over to the Border Patrolman sitting in his SUV and simply said – I did not ask – I said…
“Excuse me, this day last year, we took a picture like this with Eddie Arguelles”
As soon as I said that he responded “I understand. It’s my pleasure to do so.”
Wow! Wow! Wow! He took my phone and took the photo. No questions asked.
Can you imagine??? That is respect! All I had to do was say his name. That was awesome! That was the sign. He was right there with us.
“Andale Myssie! Take the selfie!!!” I heard his voice in my head…. and my heart.
And we all rode off once again. It didn’t seem to take as long as I had remembered it from last year so when the descent of the caliche hill approached, I warned Velisa, “Hold on!”
The downhill ended in polka dots of three foot deep potholes. At the speed we were doing, it was extremely difficult to maneuver our steeds. But we all did it!!! Yay!!! We all did it and didn’t fall!!!
Ohhhhhhhh except for Laura who didn’t unclip in time. Sassss
I swear to you, she had THE most graceful fall I’ve ever seen in my life!!! It was like animated blue birds and rainbows exploded around her. Her hand shot straight up in jazz hand formation – spirit fingers for you 90’s kids – as if she was going to pop up and yell out “Ta-daaaaa!!!”
A scrawny little stray mutt that looked a little like my Woo-Woo but taller and skinnier came over to check us out. I remembered that a couple of girls were afraid of dogs so I did my best dog whisperer act. It worked. His tail wagged as he circled us. He was harmless. Thank goodness because I wouldn’t want this experience to go sour on them with a pack of rabid pit bulls!!!
Another short part of pavement came up. Ahhhh yes, I remember this part very well. This was the peaceful pavement by Walker Lake. The pavement is fresh and solid – except for the part right by the rail road tracks and that wicked sharp turn. It’s lined with tons and tons of sunflowers and scenic farms. Along the fenceline I saw a birdhouse with a boot hanging below it. Birds were singing the most melodious tunes. Two rabbits with poufy white cotton tails ran across us. One scared Velisa thinking she was close to running over it!!! A coyote crossed as well. It was the best of Mother Nature coming out to greet us and cheer us on!
And this part zoomed by quickly, too! Way too quickly… for the next part was the dreaded sand pits. This was the part that I feared the most. Thankfully the rains had blessed us for a few days before packing down some of that loose sand. Don’t get me wrong, it was hard to manage but certainly not as hard as last year. The sand was way more compact than last year and I was way more grateful, too! My conversations with Velisa, who was by my side almost the entire time, was light and colorful… and then just like that I was reminded of the real dangers that surrounded us. I red laser beam held it’s grasp on her and then me for a couple of seconds each. We stayed quiet until we got to the half way point where we saw Mike, Wally and Kelly waiting for us.
You know, it’s a great feeling to be a tough independent woman who can conquer a physically challenging endurance race… but it’s another thing to be a defenseless woman with another defenseless woman when a red laser beam shines on you. It was really really really awesome to see the three tough guys there.
I took the opportunity to wait for the rest of the girl gang to come in..YAY!!!! Laura, Lisa and Javi roll in. Wally jokingly says “It looks like a kid and her parents riding” poking fun at Laura’s petiteness…. and she falls a second time and even more gracefully than the first!!!
“You know there are expectations to being Wally’s girlfriend,” The guys teased. “This IS THE Wally after all.”
“Did I embarrass you babe?” Laura looked up to Wally.
We all knew that answer. He is soooooo in love.
Of course, we took a group picture! yay!!! 50%!!! Yan Yan is seriously the coolest photographer in the world!!
A random cyclist rode by us.
“Suuuup?” she yelled out to him.
Instant smiles on all of us!!!
Monette and the kids all get down from the truck. Cheese!!! *I’m going to take my time photoshopping that picture. COOLEST PICTURE EVER… ok, well in a long time!
And then we return the same way we came.
Half way through the sand pits, a man in a white truck with a Hidalgo County logo on the door driving head on to us locks eyes with me. I see his smile. It wasn’t a nice smile. It was an evil grimace kind of smile. Fear filled me. I knew exactly what he was going to do and so did everyone else. Immediately, Velisa swerved to try to avoid him but the sand was too thick to move that fast. She fishtailed and lost control and fell. She landed perpendicular to me causing me to run over her back wheel and in my fear I lost control and fell. It was a chain reaction and another rider who was behind me did the same thing just missing me by inches.
The driver stopped and opened his door laughing at us.
“Don’t you laugh at us!!!” I screamed at him. “Velisa, are you ok? Are you ok Velisa?” She didn’t answer at first so I repeated until she did.
The driver’s face then turned white. He realized quickly that in all his bravado… he took down two GIRLS!!! How cool is that?!?!? What a man!!! (that is sarcasm)
“Just leave man! Just leave!” Wally snapped at him. By this time, all the surrounding cyclists had seen what had happened and gathered around in support. Still on the ground propped up on one elbow, I glared at driver. They unclipped me and warned me to take control of my temper.
I do not understand how people can be so mean. He really thought he was doing something funny. He could have hit us! All three of us have families. We have children. We could have died! What was so funny about that? Does that not enter their head???
I dusted myself off and charged back. I felt really really bad about running over Velisa’s bike. At my speed and my weight, I could only imagine the impact that put on her body and bike as I rolled over. I looked up and the others were gaining speed. They must have been just as angry as well.
Wait, no… They’re just fast naturally.
By the time we got to the short paved portion, I had calmed down a bit. I had asked Irma where the big huge tree was. She said it was at the first Levy entrance. Maybe it was the result of my brain jiggling around during the ride but I seemed to have asked her “Is this where? Is this where?” at every single levy entrance and hill. Poor thing was so intense in her concentration, I am sure my questions got on her nerves.
Kelly and I hadn’t ridden together in ages so we took this chance to catch up on everything. He gushed and gushed about his new found love. Let me paint this mental picture for you. Kelly is probably the palest human being in the Rio Grande Valley. So the combination of flushed red cheeks due to this wicked bike ride and his love blush during the conversation turned him completely tomato red!!! He was absolutely adorable!! Clearly his heartbeat was working overtime after bragging about his girlfriend’s love of running and fine food that he said “You go on ahead.” He needed a break from the speed.
Not to worry. Just a few minutes later, the oasis appeared. Mr. Alaniz, Wally’s dad, had parked his truck by the side of the road with tons of ice cold bottled water and endless boxes of honey buns!!! His dogs, Pee-Wee and Herman, herded us all like lost sheep and stood guard over us and we hydrated our worn, limp bodies. Mel passed out Sport Beans and a few laughs later… we were good as new.
Onward!!!
As Laura and I gained on Wally (who was obviously slowing down for a reason), he grabbed his leg and yelled out to Laura “Want some of this?” She giggled back to him in a flirtatious way. I was literally the third wheel. I zoomed off so they could continue their love games in private but not before I yelled out to them “Oh go get a room! This is a family show!”
I caught up to Ramon who was also slowing down. He said “I’m waiting for my beloved.”
Awwwww.
I looked back and Javi was by Lisa’s side the entire time. The examples of love they showed here are reflections of how they live their lives everyday, not just in cycling. They truly truly adore each other. And it wasn’t just the men who openly displayed their affection. The posts afterwards that Cheryl had of Mike was evidence that the adoration matched equally.
These are really great people.
Maybe one day I’ll be able to be that lucky and share this experience with my hubby. Maybe, one day.
Ok…. you don’t wanna hear about all that mushy gushy stuff, eh?
So, here we go. It was getting close to noon time. We had been on this trail for almost four hours and the sun was beating down on us hard. I found myself entering the “bite me zone”. *For running marathoners, this is the mile 23 mark for 26.2. So close yet so far away.
I climbed up the caliche hill and didn’t get off. I made it. Yes!!! The SAGs called out to me if I needed anything. I gave them the thumbs up. From this point forward, the SAG cars were not allowed to come up to the Border Wall. I was on my own for a while. I was up a good distance from all the love birds behind me and I kept Mike at about a block ahead of me. I felt comfortable but also needed some distraction from the heat and jiggle brain syndrome.
Time to SING!
What do I sing?
I don’t know why this song entered my head… maybe it was my love of pizza… maybe it was because this song was sung by Ramon last year on a similar hot ride. All I know is that this song got stuck in my head and it wasn’t going out… so I sang.
I probably scared the heebeegeebees out of all the creatures that Mother Nature had surrounded me with earlier. But I had fun.
As I recognized the part of the fence that matched last years photo with Eddie, I slowed down. All the memories flashed at once. I’m going to keep this part sacred but I will tell you that it was more powerful than expected. Yes, he was certainly there with us.
“Was it here that we took the picture?” The heat and fatigue had eaten up all our senses.
There we were. The 5am Riders at the top of the levy.
“Andale Myssie. Take the selfie.” he told me.
Invigorated with his memory… we all blasted off. Probably faster than we expected. Mike shrieked like a little girl as he zoomed down the last caliche hill.
I wanted to get out of the heat as soon as possible. I was beat. Those last few miles on Military Highway were the absolute hardest. The rider in front of me yelled out “Gravel!!” and did his hand sign… I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Are you serious? After what we just rode through, you’re gonna call ‘gravel’ on THAT?!?!?”
We both burst out laughing.
As we rolled into the finish line, we saw no one was there. It took all of two seconds to decide to ride back to Wally’s shop as fast as we could so we could eat some burgers!!! Again, my legs had other plans. I struggled going up the 2nd street turn. I saw him look back and I had to apologize. “I’m sorry. My legs are burning!!!”
“We’re almost there. We’re almost there,” he said trying to comfort me.
As we crossed Old 83 and entered the parking lot, the cheers exploded.
YES!!! YES!!! I MADE IT! I did not give up. I did not fail. My inner sarcastic voice softly said “I knew you would.”
Best feeling ever: a few minutes later the back of the pack shows up. Lisa wobbled up and gave me a huge hug. The smile on her face was priceless. “I am so proud of myself! I feel like I can do anything now!”
And you know what? I think she can, too.
Eddie convinced me of that of myself and of those around us.
Thank you Wally from the bottom of my heart.
It’s been a tradition that every 4th of July I wait at this very spot to cheer on our superhero!! Today was no different!!! I know you were there today and will be there every year!!! Congratulations to all who finished ‘Eddie’s Hell of the South’!!Much love to you all!!!! You made my day!!! ~Monette Escaname-Arguelles
Me riding my “Mimi” custom Felt bike from Wally’s Bike Shop and wearing my sunflower trisuit from http://triflare.com/
After last weekend’s disappointing DNF at CapTexTri, I entered the Duathlon last minute with the promise to myself to just finish it.. not for time… not for anyone… not for any cause… not for glory or “I told you so” or “I knew you could do it” or even the whispers of “I knew she wouldn’t beat me.”
I needed to finish this so that I could prove to myself that I was not going to give up. Still sick, I pushed through.
My legs felt heavy during the run. I hadn’t run like I was supposed to so I expected this to hurt… but I didn’t give up. Didn’t stop once. But boy oh boy all that mucus that had accumulated over the last few weeks all of a sudden wanted to come out… and it did!!!
I wore my brand new beautiful Triflare sunflower one piece triathlon suit. I got so many compliments (although I wish I was 20 years younger and had the body of Alex when she wore her Triflare trisuit in Brownsville). I loved it!!! Well, until I tried to figure out how to get OUT of it in a hurry while running straight past T1 and onto the bathrooms while asking the race volunteers to unzip me!!!
What happened in the bathroom is seriously TMI. Don’t even ask. All you need is a good imagination.
I spent a good 10-15 minutes in there.
I walked out and found another fellow runner who was relaying and asked her to zip me back up.
I looked over to transition and saw just three bikes left racked… including mine. “Eh… might as well be the last one out and enjoy this one.”
What????? Is my inner sarcastic voice having a nice day????
Well, alright then! Let’s go have a great time!!!
I gently took Mimi off the bike rack and maneuvered her to the mount line. Stroked her seat, said “You ready Momma? Let’s go!” Jumped on and the fun began!!!
That feeling came back and boy did I need it!
I remember Sissy saying that she wanted me to find a way to deal with stress in a healthy way because she knew things were only going to get harder on me. She was right and I did.
I remember every single person’s advice along the way. I remember every helping hand and loving gesture from supporters, donors, sponsors, coaches, friends and family. Best of all… when I’m riding my Mimi, I forget all the pain, sorrow and anger I hold inside and feel more alive and happy than I’ve ever felt before.
So I understand what Mike Padgett said a few weeks ago about how if he died riding his bike, he’d die happy. As much as it hurt to think that it could happen like that, I understand that feeling. I hope it doesn’t happen like this but if it does… I’ll die happy.
And as promised… the latest from the media regarding Eddie Arguelles
Hundreds rode in remembrance, honor and solidarity. It was monumental for this community that is just opening it’s eyes to the vast numbers of people who are taking huge strides in managing their own healthy lifestyle. I was in awe… until I rode by Eddie’s ghost bike. I lost it. I completely lost it. Thank you to the unknown rider who stayed by me patting my back until I was able to wipe away the tears.
Being sick this last week has been a blessing. Laryngitis restricted me from mouthing off with emotion when ignorance was blaring and a lesson I learned a long time ago was you can never make sense to those who are senseless. Being stuck in bed gave me the needed rest to far exceed what I thought my body was capable of doing and this will be tested late this month. And best yet… I am convinced now more than ever that not hundreds but THOUSANDS of people around me see that change needs to happen and we are now all willing and able to do this TOGETHER.
Eddie Arguelles helped me become a cancer awareness advocate. Because of that, he helped me keep my promise to my mother and my Aunt Sissy who both lost their lives to cancer. Eddie had a cause of his own. He wanted to ride his bike with his family safely through the streets of the Valley. He was one of the biggest bicycle safety advocates I knew.
It was beyond tragically ironic how his life ended.
Now, his fellow cyclist friends and communities have come together to finish what he was not allowed to.
After all that I witnessed this week, there are no words in the English language that can capture the energy, the unity and the willingness to make the changes needed to run, ride and drive together here in the Rio Grande Valley of Texas.
Many of my local cities invited me to and my fellow cyclists to unify efforts to make running, riding and driving safer together. Incredibly progressive strides are being made in record time by multiple municipalities. Never before have I witnessed such a desire for needed change!
______
I had my cardiology exam today. I have a real good close relationship with all my doctors and their staff. They keep abreast of all my shenanigans and call me in before my big events to check up on me and make sure my body is running well.
As my nurse asked me to lift my shirt and place the stickies on my chest for the EKG, she mentioned how well my blog was coming along and how proud the staff was of all that I was doing and how far I had come. I couldn’t help but think how much better this scenario was as opposed to the mammogram and colonoscopy a few months ago.
Dr. Manohoran came in shortly afterwards and had told me it was time to do another stress test because of the irregularity that was found that first time around. *I was born with a genetic heart defect that he monitors quite often. He also noted that I was completely off my cholesterol medication and doing quite well.
He asked me about my trip to Washington DC and wished me well, scheduled my stress test to happen after my trip but before my triathlon. AND he didn’t leave the room without a “selfie” and his big bright smile.
Doc Manohoran is ECSTATIC with my cardiac results!!! Can’t you tell???? That IS his #happy face!!! Seriously!!
If any of you all have made the decision to begin your own fitness journey, I hope you do it the right way with doctors who understand and encourage you the way mine have with me.
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And I’m not posting the latest media stories about Eddie today because my fellow cyclist friend who sat by me in court today said it better than I or any other journalist could. I am reposting his words:
I had a surreal experience earlier today at the bond reduction hearing for the man who killed my cycling buddy Eddie Arguelles. The judge opened the proceedings by asking: “Why are there so many people in my courtroom?” We then got about to the business at hand, which was the defense’s contention that the bail violated the defendant’s Eighth Amendment rights. The judge said something I found curious, namely that he was sure most of the cyclists and Eddie’s family members wanted to see instant punishment in this case. The judge argued that this, very human sentiment, violates our constitutional liberties.
I agree. The defendant deserves the chance to explain his actions which, given the circumstances, may in and of themselves represent a second level of punishment for the crime he purportedly committed. The defense argued that, lacking a toxicology report, there is no way to support the idea that the defendant was impaired at the time of the incident. The judge retorted that if he was not impaired, then the defendant’s actions (in trying to dispose of the remains of my friend) are inexplicable.
I looked at the defendant for some time today. He seemed almost pitiable. The proceedings seemed to be far above his ability to understand. He had a dull-witted, almost animalistic look to him. He seemed to represent humanity at its most basic level, a product of a self-indulgent and degenerate individualism that values sensual gratification at all costs. I saw nothing evil in the defendant, but I did discern something that is foisted on us all through popular culture, a bombastic braggadocio, an amoral dislocation based upon a fin-de-siècle mindset that unfortunately has at its end no promise of the brighter and more ethical future essential to creating a happy society. He is a symptom of a fundamental disrespect for the other that is spreading like a cancer in our society today.
None of this brings my friend back to life. None of this eases the immense sorrow the defendant has unleashed on the world. I wonder what can be done to change this, to save people such as the defendant before he becomes the terrestrial equivalent of an asteroid, lacking a moral sensibility and vaulting through space and time with little recognition of his impact on others.
I’m going to do something different for today’s entry. I’m not entitling this post with the name of a song. I’m not going to gracefully dance around the severity of a taboo topic. I’m gonna slug you in the gut with the story of an incredibly amazing person and hopefully move you and this whole community into action… because the worse thing you can do is absolutely nothing.
A few years ago, I worked for a studio with several different television and radio stations. I loved my job mostly because I was given the ability to befriend so many incredible clients who entrusted me with their business and event marketing/promotions. One morning my co-worker had announced that she was going to sign up AHSTI as a client. However, that afternoon I received a phone call from a soft spoken nice gentleman asking to meet with me to plan out a promotion for his event – the same organization that my co-worker said she would sign up. Now, the way that my office worked was that if you called out your possible client that morning… it was the equivalent of calling “shot gun” for the front seat. She called dibs.
I met with him and went over a few ideas and he quickly blurted out “We wanted to work with you because you are trusted and don’t BS anyone.” I’ll never forget that. He could tell I had great ideas and he could tell I was worried about something.
I admitted that I had just received some worrisome news about my mother who was at MD Anderson at the time. He let me vent and then we planned one of the most successful events that AHSTI ever had together.
I had never fought for a client before. I’m so glad I did.
So that’s my side of the story and how this friendship began.
Martin grew up poor and knew the challenges that this area had to overcome to attain a home, an education and a good life. He dedicated himself to helping the poor get homes through the local Affordable Homes program. And he was really good at it!!!
And then one day, out of the blue, I got a phone call. I was in a meeting so I couldn’t answer it but I did see the caller ID and was a bit puzzled when I saw his name. About two hours later, I was able to listen to his message.
I dropped the phone and my heart sank. He told me that he was diagnosed with Stage III Colon cancer, was weak, needed help and wanted to partner up with me on some ideas that he had and to call him back. He knew I understood what he was feeling. He knew I understood how expensive this disease is. He knew I understood.
I held the phone in my hand for a good thirty minutes. I couldn’t call him back. I knew that if I spoke to him, I’d break down in tears and that’s not what he needed from me. He needed positive reinforcement. He needed someone strong. He needed someone I could not be at that time. I was so distraught. He was so young! How does this happen? Why does cancer strike the good ones? Why him? He has so much to offer with his good heart and his youth and his ambition and his… (the list went on and on)
Long story short.. I never had the guts to call him back. I didn’t trust myself. I cried.
Truth is, he never needed me or my support. He dug in his heels, went through treatment and continued with his plan.
Now, if any of you have gone through surgery, radiation and chemo… you KNOW how that knocks you down. This guy did it, got knocked down and used that down time to create a non-profit for others who are going through the same thing to receive a revolving loan to pay for expenses related to dealing with cancer treatment.
Seriously, who does that? Who creates a revolving loan fund for OTHER people to utilize when undergoing cancer treatment, after they’ve lost their job, their income and still have mortgages to pay, utility bills, travel expenses, children’s expenses, car payments, insurance, yada yada yada????
MARTIN MEDINA DOES that’s who.
So when you come home and complain about having a hard day at work and plop down on your couch in your home with a roof over your head and a big screen TV and dinner in front of you with the air condition/heater blasting, able to put in your crossfit workout or daily jog and a warm shower to ease you… think about what you did today and count your blessings. Ask yourself… WHAT DID YOU DO YOU HELP THE WORLD TODAY?
Were you inactive? Were you indifferent? Were you silent?
What excuse are you mustering up in your head to give me? I’m not going to buy it anyway. Wake up. Do something. If you can’t think of something to do, to say, to be… then help Martin Medina.
This is his facebook page. Become his friend and offer your help, your talent, your voice, your anything… just whatever you do, don’t do NOTHING.
“No matter what life tosses our way, there are always those individuals who will take their given situation and turn it into something positive. Martin is one of those individuals. Despite his battle against cancer, he took time this weekend to introduce his friends to each other in efforts to create a foundation to help people in need at a local level. Thank you Martin for your inspiration, our world can use more people like you. We love you dearly and are here to support you any which way we can. We pray that you continue to recuperate and return stronger than ever. Si se puede!” –Lori Michelle Ruiz
This is Martin Medina surrounded by his friends who contacted me. Together, we’ll be organizing a RAVE RUN, concert and dinner to help him with HIS expenses and establish his revolving loan fund and nonprofit to help others.
THANK YOU LONESTAR NATIONAL BANK FOR SETTING UP AN ACCOUNT FOR MARTIN SO THAT ANONYMOUS DONATIONS CAN BE MADE TO HIM!!!! *I’ll set up a link here shortly so that people can donate here online from my blog to him.
RunMyssieRun 