Sooooo I had an interesting conversation the other day with an extremely experienced super athlete. Honest to God, I truly tried to hold my temper and sarcasm but I know it didn’t take long for my squeaky high pitched voice to mimic that of Karen Walker’s.
“Face it Myssie, you aren’t getting any younger. Your times are not going to get better. If my …. times can’t get better, then yours won’t either.”– I’ll leave their name out of it.
Ok… so maybe I am old. OK… so maybe I’m not a naturally gifted athlete. OK… so maybe my times will never get better.
What in the world makes someone think that it’s ok to squish the hope of someone else just because THEY can’t do it themselves? Their light will not shine any brighter by trying to dim someone else’s. I would NEVER tell someone that they can’t climb a mountain just because I haven’t climbed a mountain.
People like this drive me nuts! Now, I’d like to think that I’m a pretty positive and strong person but if people like this go about their day ranting to anyone gullible enough to believe just one ounce of this shhhhiii….tttuuuffffff, well then no wonder we have so many emotionally damaged people around us!!! Seriously, if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all! I really don’t care if it’s true or not. I love the Rotary 4-way test:
1. Is it the truth? 2. Is it fair to all concerned? 3. Will it build goodwill and better friendships? 4. Will it be beneficial to all concerned?
Taste your words before they leave your lips.
Whether you believe it’s coincidence or another sign from my guardian angels around me.. this was the very first article that was on my Klout (p.s. have you added me as your “influencer” on the subject of triathlon and/or cancer on Klout? – please do) feed this morning when I logged in:
She’s older than I am. However, just like me… she signed up for a triathlon before even knowing how to swim! AND SHE DID IT! And so did I! And we’re OLD! She finished last in her age group last year and hopes to improve. I finished 3rd to the last in my age group and I hope to improve.
I’m going to be real… I know I will not podium this Sunday at Stanley’s Triathlon. The age group that I am in have some incredibly seasoned triathletes with surreal times. In fact, the woman who won the entire women’s category was in my age group. I believe in my heart of hearts that my time WILL improve but still will likely not be enough to medal. And, trust me, I’m ok with that. Here’s why…
For the first time in my Team in Training history, I will not be using my “Mimi” – my custom Felt bike. I rode “Neo” – the Cervelo that was donated to me recently – for the first time a few days ago and felt very fast. I rode the course on both bikes and actually felt better in Neo. I will practice mounting and dismounting the bike tomorrow afternoon but even with the practice, let’s be honest… every athlete knows better than to use ANYTHING new right before a race. This is a gamble for me. But I’m also in the mindset that I am using Stanley’s Triathlon as a practice tri for CapTexTri in May. If ever there was an opportunity to see if I can handle Neo under fire, it’s on Sunday.
I am officially one of the “gang” now, eh? Honored but I’ll always prefer the BRC. š
IF I do well, I can guarantee it will be because of the time made up on the bike, the experience and training all this year, and the amazing positive encouragement from my fellow peers who will likely be cheering me on along the streets of the course. IF I don’t do well… it’s because the jerk was right. I’m too old and my time won’t ever get better. I’m not getting any younger afterall.
Ahhhhh but here’s the reality of it all… regardless of the outcome, I will continue to TRY to make myself better. Because what TRULY matters is NOT whether or not I make it onto that podium and it is NOT even about my time getting better, or keeping cadence king or having proper swim form or running chi… it’s about someone who is scared to death right this moment because they just received the news that they have cancer.
I don’t give a damn how old I am… I’m gonna fight for them.
Sarah doesn’t care how old I am. She just wants to live a cancer-free life.
These are the Cyclepaths exactly one year ago at our very first triathlon. Only 2 of us in that photo did not participate in that triathlon because we did our first triathlon the very next day. One year later, all but 3 of us pictured here have completed at least a Half-Ironman. We are all one year older… and all their times got better.
The test wasn’t in the water… It was in my head. Once again, too much stuff going on in my head. Worrying about things out of my control and things I know I shouldn’t worry about… But I do.
Our regular pool was closed and my sponsor GOLDS GYM was kind enough to let us use their pool for today. Sad to see a fellow triathlete (who was not part of TNT) give me the cold shoulder as a result of team taking up their lanes during their training time.
I actually got up out of my lane and offered it to them so they could swim, and I shared a lane with another teammate and then they LEFT. They left the lane, the pool, their workout…
That’s when it hit me… A text sent to me earlier, moments before my swim by an old friend about how he trains for life… And this was exactly what he meant.
No matter how well I try to better myself, no matter how nice I am and no matter what I offer to do for others… Some people are just mad. Always mad and it has nothing to do with me although they may take it out on me… It’s not me that they’re angry at. I need to train my mind and heart to not get hurt when they do that to me.
So anyway… My swim was ok. I still feel like I’m sinking especially when doing one arm drills. I know this is my weak point. I need to spend more time on this so I can do better.
Last night Jean Gearhart, the woman who pushed me further than I ever expected someone other than my own mother could, broke down into tears and she surprised me in front of my fellow Team in Training alumni marathoners, survivors and current triathletes. However, she mentioned something in error.
She said between sobs “She did it all by herself…. and it shows her dedication to the cause.”
But truth be told.. I was never by myself. I had more people push me, support me, run with me, swim with me, bike with me, donate to me, advocate for me, spread the word, encourage me, give of themselves so that I could move forward to that very first crown. Oh! And add a few stubborn and over protective angels to the mix, too!!!
If you are reading this on a computer screen, look at the links at the top right side of the screen. Those people never once left my side. NEVER.
Triathlon is a very individual sport.. true. But I was an exception. I was never ever alone. This triple crown is not mine.
This triple crown is OURS.
Dezma, today is yours baby. One year. My heart breaks for her friends and family. I know that pain all too well. You’d think by now I would know what to say. Still at a loss.
Wow! What a wish I had!!! It’s half way through the day and my Facebook has exploded!!!! The number of well wishes are overwhelming. And the sentiments shared via private message are beyond surreal.
Best of all… The donations are trickling in $10 by $10!!!! Last I checked this morning between meetings I was just over One Thousand dollars!!! Incredible!!!
Thank you! Thank you everyone for proving to me and the world that what I have been doing has not been in vain.
My brother was once asked if he thought his glass was half empty or half full. He responded with “My cup runneth over.”
And that’s exactly how I feel today.
Thank you!!! Keep those donations coming!!! Please! Together we can help makes other birthdays a reality.
Wow! What a wish I had!!! It’s half way through the day and my Facebook has exploded!!!! The number of well wishes are overwhelming. And the sentiments shared via private message are beyond surreal.
Best of all… The donations are trickling in $10 by $10!!!! Last I checked this morning between meetings I was just over One Thousand dollars!!! Incredible!!!
Thank you! Thank you everyone for proving to me and the world that what I have been doing has not been in vain.
My brother was once asked if he thought his glass was half empty or half full. He responded with “My cup runneth over.”
And that’s exactly how I feel today.
Thank you!!! Keep those donations coming!!! Please! Together we can help makes other birthdays a reality.
I am very grateful to have so many wonderful friends wish me well on my birthday every year but this year my wish is for those wishes to turn into $10 donations. In exchange for your donation, you’ll receive either a necklace or an orange or purple beaded bracelete with my Momma’s signature “I LOVE YOU” hand sign silver charm. Turn my birthday into someone else’s birthday to beat cancer. Together we can! Anything is possible. Donate online here:http://pages.teamintraining.org/sctx/txtri14/mcardenasb
After every race, I have a photo made with me holding up my medal with one hand and throwing an “I love you” sign with the other hand. That was originally done so that my mother could see my progress on facebook while she was at MD Anderson getting treatment. We always held up our hands with this sign to each other in the same manner that Carol Burnett tugged at her ear after each show for her mother.
It is because of this that our little sign has now suddenly become so popular at our local races… many of us are racing for someone that we love and when we see the photographer around, lots of us show our love to others by showing the sign.
Please continue to spread the love! On Tuesday, my birthday, I have challenged my social media friends to donate $10 instead of posting a HAPPY BIRTHDAY on my social media walls. In exchange, they’ll receive a necklace or bracelet with the symbol that means so much to me… and hopefully will allow others to beat cancer and experience a new birthday for themselves.
Anything is possible. Together we can.
Oh… wait… you’re a guy? Or you don’t like to wear jewelry because you’re always working out??? Well, you must stink. A lot.
(How’s that for a sales pitch, eh?)
No worries, you can still help on my birthday!!! Because all those technical dri-fit jerseys, sports bras, bike jerseys, cycling shorts, etc… in fact… anything that is NOT cotton that you wear while you sweat can use this.
Click on the photo to get WINdetergent to launder your own sports gear and finally get that funky smell out!
WINdetergent has offered to partner with me on helping me fundraise in memory of my Momma and Sissy and Rodney and Donny and…. ya, it just goes on and on…
So why don’t you click hereĀ http://tnt.windetergent.com/myssie
and you can smell sporty fresh, celebrate my birthday AND help us with the fight again cancer!!! WINdetergent will donate $5 for every two-pack that you buy to my Mimi’s Miles fund with the Leukemia and Lymphoma society… but you HAVE to use THIS link
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.
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.Ā
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. Ā How about them apples? Again, the high fives and hugs and cheers were awesome! Overwhelming at some times, too! But very welcomed š
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 thatĀ JaviĀ 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 onceĀ 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 wasĀ 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 camerasĀ Ā 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…Ā
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.Ā
I think I may have screamed a little and that may have been what caused her to laugh a bit.Ā
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.Ā
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.Ā
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.Ā
Katherine posted this on our facebook page:Ā
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! CauseĀ CynthiaĀ 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.Ā
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.Ā
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.
RunMyssieRun 