Acceptance

Wow. This one keeps coming up again and again. And no matter how good we think we've got it down, another situation crops up to challenge us from another angle.

In the end, we have to realize that there is nothing we can control completely. Not our lives, our health, or even our thoughts. With practice we can achieve some measures of control for some small amount of time, but that is all.

But the gem of what we must accept is also this - the perfection in our imperfection. No matter how imperfect we are with respect to our ideals, our plans, our intentions - we are always as we should be already. Truly. The hard part in this life is not getting to where we want to be - but accepting where we are already.

That doesn't imply that we shouldn't have plans or goals, that we shouldn't reach high. Accepting that there's no reason we should aim high inherently implies that there's also no reason we shouldn't aim high.

That's the beauty of it. And the simplicity. We can be, change, or do as we want, not because we should but because it makes us happy (not happier), and satisfied (not more satisfied). And if it doesn't do those things, then we don't need to be, change or do them. Because where you are right now is where you should be.

Angry, sad , frustrated, lovesick, deflated, guilty, fed-up, scared - even those, when you are in them, offer some insight, some benefit. With an open heart, with acceptance of them, you can move through them more quickly, from the pain to the insight.

The good feelings too (too many to list) - ephemeral. But useful, and beautiful and fulfilling. Soak them up only - don't cling to them or doubtthem or feel guilty about having them - just soak them up for as long as they last.

Bruised and weary, but finally 'round the bend of tears today - that's where my head is. Acceptance... we meet again.

(Why the goats? That's another story entirely.)

Getting Better at Listening

Its been a while and there have been so many times I've wanted to find the time to get back to my blog here with some nugget of insight that hit me. I still don't really have the time I would like to create this post, but I'm gonna wing it because too many of my thoughts are passing through without leaving a trace lately.

Driving back from my run on the Rail Trail this morning (its been weeks since I last had time for that too) I was thinking about how much I notice when I am in the present and how much I miss when I am caught up in the past or future.

The irony is that when I spend so much of my thoughts on the past and future, usually questioning them in some way, the answers that invariably come, only come in the present, which I am not focused on, and so I often miss them.

What does filter through quite often seems like coincidence at first - a song on the radio with a phrase that slaps me upside the head with its clarity, an unexpected call or email from a friend who can add some perspective, a sudden change of plans that provides the needed opportunity for pause and reflection, an out-of-the blue conversation with my seven, ten or twelve year old that cuts to the chase in terms of priorities and the experience of time.

While I can try to spend less of the present time focused on the future or the past, I still can't always quiet the questions. And maybe that's okay so longs as I also spend most of my time in the present, able to receive the answers I am seeking.

Lately it comes in the Mick Jagger classic "You can't always get what you want - but you get what you need." I hear it all the time, everywhere, pulling me out of my worries about upcoming deadlines and career moves. So much so, it is obviously beyond the realm of coincidence.

Like the flash of red I see now so often in the lush green landscape I get to live and commute in, the flash of a good friend's favorite bird (recently revealed). The abundance and constancy of these small creatures is quieting my concerns that the coming changes will 'take me away' from the friendships that mean so much to me.

The universe is always talking to me. In the midst of chaos and change, it practically shouts to get my attention. I just hope I'm getting better at listening.

The Beauty of Becoming

"Life is about the journey, it is not about being, but becoming."

In a conversation with a friend who creates beautiful works of art with his hands, he commented that thinking about a project is fun, finishing it is wonderful, but beginning it was so much stress, because he was necessarily starting so far from the finished piece as he could see it in his mind, and there may be so many practical modifications that must be made to it that its never certain if the beauty that exists in his mind will be realised.

I am so envious of those that can create beauty with their hands. The closest I come to that is in my writing which flows most often from some inspiration. I am actually working towards the ideal of envisioning a piece and then determinedly creating it as my friend needs do for his art. It seems easier to know the way, to know what is needed, to know how to make adjustments when needed. But maybe that's just the grass being greener. (I'm sure he thinks it would be easier to write.)

But something even more significant crept into my mind and that is about finding the joy in the process. For me and cooking, this is effortless. My senses are engaged in the process, constantly being petted and fondled by the sensations, smells and sounds of washing, chopping, sauteing fresh ingredients and using spices like magic pixie dust. For writing, its a bit harder because the phrase I have just written either flows and evokes something in me, and hopefully other readers, or is just unsatisfyingly reaching for that effect. And then it becomes a process of rearranging words and phrases, etc., like pieces of furniture, looking for that often elusive feng shui of communicating feelings and images through words.

How can we find more joy in the process? Why is it easier in some types of projects than others? What is the challenge or lesson to learn from doing so? We have become so much a 'before' and 'after' culture, with what happens in between more and more hidden. The challenge, I think, is to find the beauty in the 'becoming', the evolution of a project. I think this is easier the less 'in our heads' the project is, the more it uses us physically, the more it engages our senses. I often experience this from training and racing triathlons. Early on I was constantly reminded by a seasoned triathlete that the point was to enjoy and be present every moment of it - the training, the racing, the post race reflection. Even at the most painful point of my recent races (not so much time for training these days) I remind myself of just how happy I am to be there, to have the time, the money, the physical ability and the desire to be in this very painful and yet exhilarating moment.

A confession; Sometimes when writing, I print out what I have so far, for no other reason than to see it, to hold it, to remember it as I watch the pages grow over the process. That's why, too, its hard to throw out my scrawled notes from the very beginning. That's why I print out nearly everything when finished, even these blog posts. (I have a special folder). I am capturing the process by which my writing was becoming.

So to my friend regarding his projects, always more free advice - anytime the stress starts to creep in, stop and look backward, not forward, to see how far you've come. Stop and look around, not forward, at the moment at hand - sweat running down your brow, sun on your back, arms tired from your efforts, and the careful tending of the project that is beneath your hands, becoming - becoming in ways you could not have imagined, both before you, and inside you. It takes your breath, your thoughts, your dreams in with its becoming and its becoming is a journey you share. It will be finished, maybe even before you are ready to let it go. So enjoy every moment of it. That is your challenge. Not finishing it by XXX or making it as close to your mind's eye as possible, but letting it become, enjoying being the creator and being changed yourself in the process. That is the true reason for even beginning something new.

Happy creating to all!

Brian's Beachside Boogie

(picture from 2008)

Brian's Beachside Boogie Duathlon - the multi-sport season opener in the Connecticut coastal region, was held this past Sunday at scenic Hammonasett State Park in Madison, Connecticut on a beautifully sunny but ridiculously windy and cool day. The race is smallish, being an opener, usually fielding 150-180 competitors, and the three-deep five-year age brackets make it easy to be noted for your efforts. Its also good to see the familiar faces, many who, you may never know their names, but you root each other on at a variety of race courses, year after year.

Race start was 9am and by 8am when I arrived the temps had only climbed into the mid-40's which would have been okay except for the steady wind, 10-15mph, with gusts up to 25mph. If you know Hammonasett, you know that its never a matter of if you'll have wind, it's only a matter of how much wind you'll have and what part of the beach park its hitting the most. Its a mixed trail/road event at each leg following a 2mile run, a double 5mile bike loop, and repeated 2 mile run. It has great familiarity factor; halfway through the race you know exactly what comes next throughout the rest of it and whatever starts to slip due to fatigue you can keep hold of or even add to because of the familiarity.

O'Grady, my good friend and competitor, his wife and 9 year-old grandson arrived about 8:20am. It was cold and windy yet O'Grady was in shorts and a single loose drift running shirt looking ever so macho. Registration, getting the bikes and gear into the transition area, standing in the porta-john line left only ~3-4min for a gentle jog warm up before the start, just enough to convince yourself to leave the extra layer with your fans. I did notice, waiting for the starting gun, that the field of competitors looked smaller than last year and very few were women. I commented to O'Grady that I might get to be considered a big fish in such a small pond today (we laughed).

After the first 25 yards I didn't try to keep up with O'Grady, he's got great running legs for his age (jab) but by the time the pack had gotten to the first turn at the back of the field, maybe 0.2-0.3miles in, I picked the woman in front of me as my rabbit, someone a bit faster than I could convince my body to go on its own to keep in sight. She was ~3 inches shorter, ~20lbs lighter but soft where I have muscles and about the same age. She looked at ease and was running what looked like a comfortable pace, so I kept her within 20-30 feet until we hit the transition area. Within another quarter of a mile, not even one mile in, the pace hurt, not in a crazy/can't sustain it way, but in a consistent way, the way I used to feel when I had someone pacing me during races when I first started competing a couple of years ago. That made me realize that even though I've been training and completed my second marathon recently, I haven't really pushed myself for a long, long time.

The marathon training all fall and winter had gotten me into a long and slow mindset that was hard to push myself out of. Just the day before this race I had run close to 10min/mile in a friendly 5K also at Hamonassett (Feed the Need), so running around 8:30's/mile, which was what I saw when we came back into transition with two miles knocked off, was not something I would have thought possible. Also during that first leg of the race, when the course allowed for O'Grady and I to pass by each other on the back loop, I marked my watch and then arriving at the same spot myself a bit later, I saw I was only four minutes behind him. Our bet was that he had to beat me by more than ten minutes, so I realized I was very much still in the running and it put some energy back into my step. I'm sure it quickened O'Grady's pace a bit too. (This is how friendly competition improves both our final times.)

2 mile run; 17min 20seconds (8:40/mile)

I took my time in transition, shedded another layer, got some liquids and headed out on the crushed rock trail. Throughout the first couple of miles I concentrated on the Zendurance (an awesome book for spiritual triathletes) advice of blending (becoming one with your bike, the frame and wheels mere extensions of your body's efforts) and keeping, as much as possible, a continuous even and constant cadence. The return along the paved road was fraught with a strong headwind. I cranked down to my easiest gear, assumed a modified aero position and passed almost a dozen folks with their fat-fat mountain bike tires (I have a hybrid bike, slimmer wheels). O'Grady, when we passed by each other (another loop), looked taxed but like he was having fun. The very back section is on hilly twisting single-track trails through the woods, but it was a great break from the wind and competition aspect and brought the focus of blending with the bike back in sharp.

1st 5mile bike loop; 23min 29sec (12.8 mph)

At the start of the second bike loop I found myself in a pack of eight or so, some moved on, some fell behind, but it was my first inkling that I was doing a competitive time for the day's crowd. That got me pumped a little and I aimed to make even more gains on the second loop. My split for the second loop was a little longer but tiredness and the wind, which was claiming so many, touched me very little. The last mile of the bike I poured it on passing at least 6 more.

2nd 5mile bike loop; 24min 00sec (12.5 mph)

A short transition this time, dump the bike and helmet and begin a slow jog towards the transition exit. I exchanged some friendly banter with a couple of 60+ male age groupers that quickly and effortlessly passed by chatting the whole way. I am so envious of them. I think - I want to be like that when I grow up. Left by myself, I noticed I had some brickiness in the legs (they feel like bricks each step), some fatigue, but I was relieved to be on the last leg of this first race. No rabbits in sight to chase this time (I was later told that I was the rabbit for someone else. Such is the karma of racing) but as I reached the back turn again, I recalled a good friend's pre-race advice reminding me to have fun. The sun was out, it had warmed up, I felt decent, if tired. This was spring, true spring and so many wonderful races to come this season. This made me break into a huge smile, at least half a dozen times, and that carried me through any sense of fatigue. (Smiling really can make you feel better.)

Again, I passed O'Grady when he had just 0.3 miles to go, me another whole mile, but, looking at my watch, I realized I was very likely going to win our bet. There's was no way he could gain much time in such a short distance and so long as I didn't trip and lay sprawled for more than two minutes, I could WIN! So at this point, no matter how I felt, I didn't yield one iota to any depleting messages my body was sending out, although I did make sure not to trip. At a ~9:30/mile pace, I wasn't going fast to anybody watching, but I was going steady. I bumped it up a bit for the last 0.1 mile, almost a finishing sprint and came in at 18min 33seconds (9:15/mile) for the last two miles and a final time of 1hour 23min 22sec. O'Grady graciously let met me in the finisher's chute to let me know I won our bet by ~2min!!!!

2 mile run; 18min 33seconds (9:15/mile)

Final; 1:23:57 run-17:12 --> bike-49:03 --> run-17:42

We were both tired and happy. His last year's time was 1:18 and this year was 1:16 and that was his goal. My only goal was winning the bet we had. We brought our picnic and our water bottles full of cheap champagne (from my win) over to the awards because O'Grady was hopeful about possibly placing (he was 5th in his age group last year). They read the women's results first and when they got to my age group, just to be sarcastic, I kept saying my name as they announced the names of first, second and third place finishers. O'Grady was ready to cuff me for it when we both realized that the announcer also said my name for third place. We exchanged a look of disbelief and then burst out laughing. No sooner did he finish laughing when he started teasing that this was gonna go to my head and now he'd never hear the end of it. So I took the suggestion and rubbed it in at every opportunity. He didn't place in his age group (70-75 year olds? Just kidding.) so that made my job even easier too. He loves the attention.

For my efforts I received a hand painted tile of a lighthouse/beach with an engraved bar that reads "Brian's Beachside Boogie 2009 - Age Group Champion" to show off. My kids are easily impressed. My husband too, and he's jealous when I place.

It was a good morning. I never expected it. Not that I broke any world records, but its a wonderful way to start the season. A wonderfully satisfying race!

... That's strange ... I just checked last year's times and #1 - they're almost identical to this year, and #2 - I placed 3rd in my age group last year too! I never knew. LOL. Too funny!

2008: 123rd/161 1:23:57 age group place 3/9 run-17:12 bike-49:03 run-17:42
2009: 108th/153 1:23:22 age group place 3/8 run-17:20 bike-47:29 run-18:33

Opportunity

From Evan Almighty -
GOD asks: ” If someone prays for patience, you think GOD gives them patience? Or does God give them an opportunity to be patient? If they pray for courage, does God give them courage or give them the opportunity to be courageous? If someone prays for their family to be closer, do you think God sends warm fuzzy feelings or gives them the opportunity to love each other?”

A lot of what I post here comes from a warm fuzzy place, a place of security about where I am in relation to the message I want to help get out. Its much harder to do that, to feel secure enough about getting a message out when I'm struggling to feel its truth in my own life. But its come to that.

I've been spending much less time training for my upcoming race season, much less time looking for ways to move my career forward, much more time eating and drinking what I want, much more time at this computer playing Mafia Wars and watching old DVDs than writing decent posts and finding balance in my life. And I'm increasingly more frustrated by doing what I want rather than what I should. Its the dreaded 'slide into complacency' that I've feared ever since I was relieved of my day job, and night job, and , well, any job.

So as I was lying on the couch yesterday morning at 10am, still unshowered, watching the rest of the movie the kids started before the bus came - the dialogue from the beginning of the post jumped out at me - I am being given the opportunity to pursue all that is important to me. Why, then, am I on the couch feeling sorry for myself? How did I get to this place? But more importantly, how can I get out?

Any of you that know me know that I am wonderful to be around in a crisis. When challenged I become this superwoman that you can count on for anything and nothing phases me. But give me tons of free time, relative security in finances and an open book on life and watch me stumble, watch me falter.

I want to write. I want to train. I want balance.

I haven't got the answers yet, but I did get the memo. I have been given the opportunity. Knowing that is a decent start.

Namaste

In India, when we meet and greet and we say "Namaste", which means: I honor the place in you where the entire universe resides, I honor the place in you of love, of light, of truth, of peace. I honor the place within you where if you are in that place in you and I am in that place in me, there is only one of us. --Ram Dass

I want to be one of those people...

I want to be one of those people you read about that started with nothing, made a million dollars, lost a million dollars and made another million dollars a totally different way. And then maybe they lost it again, who knows. I don't care, its not about the money, its about risk. What risks am I willing to take? And am I ever 'All in'? Because I don't think you can make a million unless you are willing to risk losing a million. I think its that simple.

We're taught to think of 'risk' in a negative sense mostly. Risk is a liability. It seperates the prudent from the foolish. We are constantly calculating what is an 'acceptable risk'. And this is valid for many practical life applications - driving in bad conditions, etc. But when it comes to our life decisions, decisions we should be making based on our inner voice, our instincts, towards satisfying our goals and dreams, those are the times we should never be hedging our bets. We should never be less than 'All in'. That's where I want to risk a million, make a million, lose a million and risk it all again. Throughout all my life. Always All in.

CwG CH8 - Relationships

Conversations With God, Chapter 8 – Relationships
Neale Donald Walsch
(excerpts and limited paraphrasing) SLM

[Note: If you're familiar with these books and the work of Neale Donald Walsch, this is a good brush up on relationships. If this is new, enjoy! I like to think of it as divine practical philosophy, useful every day.]

Relationships are constantly challenging; constantly calling you to create, express and experience higher and higher aspects of yourself, grander and grander visions of yourself. Nowhere can you do this more immediately, impactfully, and immaculately than in relationships.

Once you clearly understand this, once you deeply grasp it, then you intuitively bless each and every experience, all human encounter and especially personal human relationships, for you see them as constructive, in the highest sense. You see that they can be used, must be used, are being used (whether you want them to be or not) to construct Who You Really Are.

That construction can be a magnificent creation of your own conscious design, or a strictly happenstance configuration. You can choose to be a person who has resulted simply from what has happened, or from what you’ve chosen to be and do about what has happened. It is in the latter form that creation of the Self becomes conscious. It is in the second experience that Self becomes realized.

Most people enter into relationships with an eye toward what they can get out of them, rather than what they can put into them. But the purpose of a relationship is to decide what part of yourself you’d like to see ‘show up’, not what part of another you can capture and hold.

Relationships do not ‘fail’, they change. When they no longer produce what you want or when they change in ways no longer conducive to their survival, they may end. But these are the wrong reasons to be in a relationship. There can only be one purpose for a relationship – and for all of life: to be and decide Who You Really Are.

It is very romantic to say that you were ‘nothing’ until that special other came along, but it is not true. Worse it puts incredible pressure on the other to be all sorts of things he or she is not. Not wanting to ‘let you down’, they try very hard to be and do those things until they cannot anymore. They can no longer complete your picture of them. They can no longer fill the roles to which they have been assigned. Resentment builds. Anger follows.

Finally, in order to save themselves (and the relationship), these special others begin to reclaim their real selves, acting more in accordance with Who They Are. Its about this time that you say they’ve ‘really changed’.

It is very romantic to say that now that your special other has entered your life, you feel complete. Yet the purpose of relationship is not to have another who might complete you; but to have another with whom you might share your completeness.

Two people join together in a partnership hoping that the whole will be greater than the sum of the parts, only to find that it is less. They feel less than when they were single. Less capable, less able, less exciting, less attractive, less joyful, less content. This is because they are less. They’ve given up most of who they are in order to be – and to stay – in their relationship. This losing of the Self in relationship is what causes most of the bitterness in such couplings.

When you lose sight of each other as sacred souls on a sacred journey, then you cannot see the purpose, the reason, behind all relationships. The soul has come to the body, and the body has come to life, for the purpose of evolution. You are evolving, you are becoming. And you are using your relationship with everything to decide what you are becoming.

Your first relationship, therefore, must be with your Self. You must first learn to honor and cherish and love your Self. And so I tell you this: be now and forever centered upon your Self. Look to see what you are being, doing and having in any given moment, not what is going on with another. It is not in the action of another, but in your re-action that your salvation will be found.

When you do get hurt by the actions and words of another in a relationship, you must honor your feelings, for honoring your feelings means honoring your Self. If your first feeling is a negative feeling, simply having that feeling frequently is all that is needed to step away from it. It is when you have anger, have the upset, have the disgust, have the rage, own the feeling of wanting to ‘hurt back’ that you can disown these first feelings as ‘not Who You Want To Be.’ Mastery comes from living through enough experiences to know in advance what your final choices are. The master is one who always comes up with the same answer – and that answer is always the highest choice.

What is the highest choice? It is the same to answer the question ‘What would Love do now?’ No other question is relevant, no other question has any importance to your soul. And the answer – the highest choice, what Love would do, is that which produces the highest good for you. It may take lifetimes to understand this but the highest good for you is the highest good for another.

If you ask ‘What promises should I make in a relationship, what agreements must I keep? What obligations do relationships carry? What guidelines should I seek?, The answer is simply ‘none’. You have no obligation in relationship. You have only opportunity. Opportunity, not obligation is the cornerstone of relationship, is the basis of spirituality. Never do anything in a relationship out of a sense of obligation. Do whatever you do out of a sense of the glorious opportunity your relationship affords you to decide and to be Who You Really Are.

Do not confuse longevity of a relationship with success. The success of a relationship is measured by the amount of opportunity for mutual growth, mutual expression and mutual fulfillment, no matter how long or how or short.

To have a good relationship, be sure you and your mate agree on purpose. If you both agree at a conscious level that the purpose of your relationship is to create an opportunity, not an obligation – an opportunity for growth, for full Self expression, for lifting your lives to their highest potential, for healing every false thought or small idea you ever had about you, for ultimate reunion with God through the communion of your two souls – if you take those vows instead of the vows traditionally taken, then the relationship will have a very good beginning.

Know and understand there will be challenges and difficult times. Don’t try to avoid them, welcome them. Gratefully. See them as grand gifts from God; glorious opportunities to do what you came into the relationship – and life - to do.

Extend the depth of your vision to see more in your partner than what they show you. For there is more there. Much more. It is only their fear that keeps them from showing you. If they notice that you see them as more, they will feel safe to show you what you already obviously see.

Expectations ruin relationships. But opportunities help them flourish. People tend to see in themselves what we see in them. If we limit our vision of them to fit our expectations, we limit them. Yet the grander our vision is of them, of what they can become, the grander their willingness to explore the part of them we have shown them.

Is that not how all truly blessed relationships work? Is that not part of the healing process – the process by which we give people permission to ‘let go’ of every false thought they’ve ever had about themselves and reach for the opportunity they have to become their True Self?

The work of the Soul is to wake yourself up. The work of God is to wake everybody up. We do God’s work in a relationship by seeing in others Who They Are and reminding them of Who They Are and we can do this best by being Who We Are. That is all you need to remember.

Each New Day

What would you do today if you knew you could not fail?

What would you choose today if you knew it was your last?

What would you begin today if it was your very first?

Three simple questions from three different outlooks all pointing to the same truths about the choices we make and the perspective we make them from. Every day we make a million choices and most of them we make unconsciously, we make them without regard to our options, to our goals, to their ramifications. We choose a lot of things but feel as if we have no choice about them which is patently false. If I convey nothing else in this post then I hope I convey this – in every action we not only have a choice, but our choice reflects our inner self, whether we are comfortable and happy there, whether we are uncomfortable, whether we are searching and even whether we recognize ourselves any longer.

Fine, you say, to ask philosophical questions and pose lofty answers. But take work for instance, sure I could stay home – that’s a choice, but who will pay the bills? (Please, substitute your own ‘what I don’t feel I have a choice about’ here.) Okay, I’ll take work then. Boy would I love to. (Pun intended.) Because of the practical issues, you may not feel you have a choice about going to work, but you do have a choice about how you go to work, what frame of mind you arrive with and what attitude you apply to the work before you. It sounds trivial but actually the most important choice we make every day is what perspective we take in making the choices that we make.

If you could not fail, would you plough ahead with some plans you want to make but have been hedging on? Would you barge into your boss’s office and ask for the raise or recognition or responsibilities you feel you deserve? Would you address a difficult situation in your life? Would you walk away from a dead end situation confident that you have options? Would you make entirely new plans or goals? Would you choose to do something great or even more daring, would you choose to step back and make time for yourself? Feeling that you could not fail is a perspective of strength. But it is not dependent on our strengths. In your life, of the things that have truly mattered, have you ever failed? In my own life, things do not always turn out as I had planned, but the goals I have made I have always achieved one way or another. I have not failed. And I know that, I feel that, whenever I am choosing a new goal these days.

If today were your last, already set before you as it is (you aren’t suddenly rich, a babe magnet or at an ashram in India), would you spend your time in the same way? Forwarding the same emails, surfing the internet, flipping through the TV channels? Would you spend more time with people? With people you enjoy being with? Would you have different conversations? Would you leave them with a different sense of who you are and what you bring to their lives? A clearer understanding of what brings you together? Would you let them know you care about them? And even just being around people you don’t particularly like or don’t even know, would the knowledge that they were a part of your last interactions here on earth change the nature of them? Would you see them more clearly as another fragile human, with their own stories, their own baggage weighing down their hopes and dreams? Would you take offense as easily or dismiss them as easily for things you don’t like? Would you see more clearly in them and acknowledge to them the things you identify with or even admire? This is a perspective of what value things hold in our choices and not having regrets about our choices.

My favorite choice is choosing compassion over judgment in a difficult situation. It is compassion I feel for the horrific mom freaking out at her kids in the most obnoxious way in the line at the grocery store. I always try to convey a genuine smile because, face it, I have been shades of that mom. Maybe I never called my five year old a ‘stupid fucking idiot’ for some small infraction, but I don’t know her story. And if I can ease her stress by not looking like I am judging her for the outburst, she may just soften inside enough to let it pass. That usually is what happens, to varying degrees. Only once have I gotten a truly hostile response, and that was preceded by utter confusion. Someone so removed from expecting any kindness from a stranger that they couldn’t recognize it. I backed off, but still I couldn’t bring myself to judge. If I was hit by a bus at the next crossing, I know I wouldn’t regret showing kindness over passing judgment.

What if today were your first day here? Would you start fresh? Choose a healthier lifestyle in what you eat, how you spend your free time and how you interact in your relationships? If you had no bad habits to break, would you continue the behaviors that led to them? If you held no hurts and grudges inside, would you treat others the same as you treat them now? If you felt young and fresh and new, a life ahead of you full of possibilities, would you have more optimism, more energy, and more love to give?

There is no reason we cannot begin each day with some sense of what these perspectives convey. This is the first day of the rest of your life. This may be the last day you have. You are incapable of failure if you are willing to believe in yourself. Your choices do matter. Each one of them. Make the choices that you would make, an optimistic, aware and infallible you, your true self.

And if all this seems too removed from your current perspective on life, try this; for the next two weeks make two conscious choices every morning, choose something that you will do for yourself and choose something you will do for someone else. Do that for two weeks and I have no doubt you will begin to see how much your choices matter, how much your perspective matters, how much can be gained by waking up each morning with a true sense that it is truly a New Day.

Steeling Their Courage

Click on the title of this post to connect to a wonderful story from the Boston Globe on how steel workers on the new center at the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute are connecting to the pediatric cancer patients watching from their windows across the way.

For me the story highlights many wonderful truths; how easy it is to give courage to someone, the power of the written word, especially our own names and the value of human connection (more on those later).

A couple of days ago a good friend relayed a happy hour conversation about me and my ability to poke, prod, wheedle and coax people out of their comfort zones to accomplish things they never knew they could, all while making it a comfortable or pleasant experience. (I'm paraphrasing... maybe embellishing.) What made me happy about the comment was the last part, that challenging people to reach for all that I see inside them, isn't a negative experience for them. It certainly isn’t for me.

Giving someone courage is as easy as communicating your confidence that they are capable of enduring, overcoming, achieving or winning the challenge before them. Your opinion of whether they will or won't, whether it will be hard or painful is not relevant - but simply communicating that you know they are capable, that they can – well – it often has a huge effect. That's all most people need to know to find it within themselves the motivation to move forward. To see that such a simple small act on our part can help others achieve great and difficult tasks - that feels really, really good.

The picture at the top of this post is of two close friends just after their first 10K race last April. Don’t they look genuinely happy? Amy had had the 10K in her sights for a while, I’m sure, when I suggested it a month before. Mike, on the other hand, had no such foolish illusions. In our conversations about running, what I did sense within him, though, was that he didn’t really feel tested with the 5Ks he’d been doing for years. That he knew he was capable of more. That’s all I needed to see to ‘encourage’ him to try it. I’ll bet he tells a different story about my methods, but as it has come to pass, he also finished his first half-marathon last year and still doesn't feel he has reached his limit. (I'm not surprised at all.) And you know what that means, right Mike?

Wayde’s inaugural 5K was out in Sedona a few weeks ago and Jason’s is coming up in March and I’m just thrilled every time one of the dozens that I’ve encouraged to run crosses the finish line. I share in their celebration. Not just of their running, but of their willingness to test themselves, test their limits. It becomes addicting, seeing just what you are capable of, and maybe even trying something, you had always dreamt of, or had never dared to dream of... Its a beautiful thing to watch unfold in the lives of your friends and loved ones.

I don't think I have any special abilities to 'see' inside people, to sense their abilities, their hopes, dreams and fears. But they are almost always very clear to me. It’s usually written all over them, in their body language, the tone they use when discussing certain subjects, the interest they show when listening to others. Sometimes it’s easier when you know them well, but sometimes that makes it harder because you see our own version of them (some would accuse me of this). But whenever I see an opportunity to convey support, sincerely, I don't hold back. What may seem like a little or insignificant thing at the time, taking the risk that they would care that I care, is usually a huge boost for them. Because it is that, underneath it all, that I am communicating – that I care. Its not as risky as it sounds because I haven't found anyone yet who didn't appreciate knowing that somebody cared about them.

They say the devil is in the details, reflecting that it’s often the little things that get us down or trip us up. Don't sweat the details, right? But it’s also the positive little things that can save us, that can change our views internally. Turning the mundane into a gift by simple gestures can communicate how often we think of someone or how deeply we value them. Martha Stewart has made millions off that simple truth. We can enrich our own lives and those we love by embracing it too.

Compliments, encouragement, support, celebration and sharing; those are at the core of giving courage to others. They’re free, painless to give and usually return tenfold. In this economic climate, that’s a hell of an exchange!

The Timelessness of Friendships

From the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy – Friendship
“Friendship is a distinctively personal relationship that is grounded in a concern on the part of each friend for the welfare of the other, for the other's sake, and that involves some degree of intimacy. As such, friendship is undoubtedly central to our lives, in part because the special concern we have for our friends must have a place within a broader set of concerns, including moral concerns, and in part because our friends can help shape who we are as persons. “

So what is it about some friendships that you can lose sight of each other for months or years and yet within minutes of a phone call or visit, you find yourself back in that sweet spot of mutual understanding, a common sense of humor and platonic intimacy?


These thoughts came bubbling up as I sat alone at the bar at SBC’s in Branford waiting for my family to join me for dinner. Just after I arrived, a couple of guys walked in talking animatedly, laughing loudly, back-slapping and carrying-on, just having met up in the parking lot. Within minutes they were joined by two more in a similar manner and the conversation continued with guesses and pronouncements as to who would brave the elements for their social event (it was between rain and snow since early afternoon hours before). They pulled out cell phones and began strong-arming anyone who answered from home. Drinks were ordered and sometimes treated, one friend to another as a surprise. I sat there drinking it all in, an addicted people-watcher, trying to catch all the little conversations, trying to imagine their stories…

Their stories are long.

Did I mention that not a single one of the two dozen that eventually crowded the bar looked under the age of 75? Or acted over the age of 25? That’s what was fascinating to me. Their playfulness, sense of familiarity, the evidence of deep bonds, and the mischievousness – it betrayed nothing about their ages. The only truly unusual aspect was that nearly 18 of the two dozen ordered wine and just barely a handful still able to sling back beers. Promptly at 6:30, they headed to a back room and the aha! - Rotary, Loins or whatever - hit me. I also noticed the stiff legged limp of more than a few and calculated that most of them had likely seen and fought in the Korean War. You couldn’t tell any of that by the rich and genuine depth of their laughter though. You could only tell that they had been getting together like this for a very long time now.


I still had time at the bar to reflect on the scene before my own clan arrived. Time to think about my friends, how ridiculously silly and immature we can be when we’re together even though we’ve ‘grown up’; gotten jobs, got married, became parents, moved far, far away and dealt with things way more serious than we had ever encountered when we first met. There are the Orange Dress stories (to come, I promise), the ‘Duct Tape’ parties (I will find those pictures), the summer’s eve dinners in the backyard of the Eastern European grad students (the vodka flowed like water but you’ll never find more graceful Waltzers), climbing road trips and hiking vacations. The best part of those get-togethers is how young you feel in the midst of it, usually the same age as when you met, or first bonded for whatever mundane or bizarre reasons. There’s a sweet affinity for your closest friends, a fierce loyalty, reluctance to judge, a sincere longing for their happiness, a deep wish that they’ll turn to you for support when they need it and a hope that you’ll always find time for one another.

Those are the best friendships. The long ones. They keep you young. But there are lots of other kinds of friendships, and they all keep you young if you allow their sincerity to infect your soul.


There are situational friendships – I think of the time spent in Mississippi helping clean up after Katrina, infinitely rich layered experiences over the course of a few days starting out as virtual strangers and ending close as family. And there are instantaneous friendships; the moment shared in the checkout line when you realize you went to the same high school more than 500 miles away, on the sidelines of your kid’s soccer game when you share anxieties for every fall, every missed play, the nervous idle chatter of two triathlon newbies waiting for the race to start, the first time flyer next to you on the plane for an international flight. They are opportunities to connect, to find commonality, to communicate interest or caring for another person, for no other reason than the pleasure it gives both of you.


Really good friends I call keepers. I would like to always have them around because they add something valuable to my life. They are of all ages, political and religious stripes, life situations, professions. They cover a broad spectrum of beliefs, goals, hopes and dreams. When I think of each one of them, it is often a single trait that stands out; the sheer volume and depth of Jane’s laughter, the youth of Wayde’s giggle, the breadth of Joe's smile, the drama of Bwana, DaveZ and Tamara, the slapstick mishaps of Rebecca and Mike, the hyperactivity of Annette and Mikita, the corruptiveness of Jason and MOG, the willingness of Kathleen, Christy, the mischievousness of Martina, Mick, Taco and Woody, the hilarious cynicism of Sarah, Bart and Joanne, the fringe preferences of Nathan – and here I feel a bit like Miss Judy from Romper Room, looking through her magic hand-mirror, saying hello to all her friends at home, the boys and girls that watch her show – I have many, many more and I’m thankful for each one of them.


Finally, for those of us lucky enough, there are the friendships of our families. Hopefully, our spouses or significant others, our brothers and sisters, our parents, our children. I remember how grown up I felt when my friendship with my mom first blossomed, one woman to another, when I was in high school. And I remember how good it felt to rediscover the friendship with my sister, now elective since we had moved away from one another, after her first child was born. With my own daughter, I hope I am laying the groundwork for a bond beyond parent-child that will help us through the approaching teen years and all their excitement.

Maybe the sense of timelessness that comes from the experience of friendship has everything to do with their ability to get us in touch with our true selves, which is often found in doing something for the sheer pleasure of it, but when it is shared, our enjoyment is reflected in the smiles and laughter of those we feel close to. Maybe. And maybe it’s as simple as this; laughter, the key ingredient of any friendship, feels really, really good and is easier to share, with one or many, than the big-O (not Obama), which is also timeless. (I hope you’re laughing now.)

Epic Family Hike, Sure to be Lore

Yesterday we planned a simple hike with the kids, almost all downhill, from friend's remote cabin in the northwest corner of Connecticut. (Throughout this post I'm suggesting background music themes to help set the mood. We begin with innocent, happy lets have an adventure music here.)

We got a late start heading out there and arrived closer to 2:30pm to one of Wayde's many houses where he had homemade chicken soup waiting for us. Wayde lives simply, rustic. His house is small - three single rooms piled one on top of each other on a steep hillside, what used to be used as an-ice house but converted a few decades ago to a rental 'home'. Wayde's lived there since his early 20's, just up the hill from the house he was born in (upper left-hand windows if you drive by) which his mom still lives in. When we arrived, Gabe scampered off to help a neighbor split wood, Rose commenced to chasing the chickens around the yard and Isabelle, a preteen through and through, refused to leave the car. She put on the Smashmouth CD and took a nap in the backseat. Its always hard for the kids the first hour at Wayde's, no TV, no bright plastic kid toys, mostly just the rustic indoors or the great outdoors. It was sunny, though cool, when we headed up to the cabin around 3:00pm.

The cabin is near the top of one of those classic Connecticut mountains, steep, studded with trees and old mining/logging roads. I thought the adventure of the day was going to be riding in the back of Wayde's truck, Harry holding tight to Gabe, me to Rose, whipping along at 50 miles and hour up the steep wide roads to the cabin. (Isabelle got to ride in the truck cab with Wayde since, unbeknownst to her, we were all hiking back down and I wanted to foster some goodwill before that time.) The driveway is a 3/4 mile long trail, passable by vehicle about half the year (snow, ice and mud claiming the rest of the days). We got halfway in, sliding a few too many of the turns for my comfort, before I insisted that we walk the rest of the way. As we jumped out of the truck I noticed, with a mom sigh, that I was the only one wearing the hats, gloves, boots, etc. that we brought for the hike. The rest was in the back of my car in Wayde's driveway. Wayde had loafers, Harry, Gabe and Rose had sneakers (no socks for Rose either), Isabelle had her stylish but tractionless Uggs. The slipping, sliding and horsing around on the ice packed trail began immediately, the sense of adventure having set in on the ride up. The wind and the kids laughter were the only sounds one could hear on Wayde's side of the mountain, a fact he's very happy about.

We got to the cabin within ten minutes with only one seriously bruised knee (Isabelle's). The cabin, even more remote, rustic and devoid of manufactured entertainment, the kids started exploring. There were the many entrances to go in an out of. The loft bed perched twelve feet above the kitchen/living room area took Gabe and Rose a long time to get bored of. The running water coming from an ancient bright red hand pump thrilled them. Isabelle feigned disinterest in the National Geographic library that skipped its way back to before I was born, October 1965 being the oldest issue I could find. One the back cover, an advertisement for the 'new and improved' 4-flash camera flash cubes! Wayde didn't remember them at all (such a kid) but my first camera had them. Eventually she settled into a book on Feng Shuei. Wayde made hot chocolate from real chocolate shavings on the gas stove, not so rustic afterall, to which he and I added Maker's Mark. Less than an hour puttering around there, with the sun sinking low, I asked Wayde if we should still hike out, like, how long would it take since it was just past four and the sun would be gone soon. He paused, smiled and said "Uhmmn, 20 minutes, maybe a bit longer..." It was a lie. We both knew it, but I figured even a 45 minute hike would still get us back to his house before dark and it was all downhill anyway. (intro foreshadowing music)

Gabe kept up with Wayde, leading the way through the woods, to a trail I assumed. Harry and Isabelle trailed, Isabelle nursing her bruised knee for all the attention is was getting her. I had to hold tight to Rose's hand since the cross country nature was particularly challenging for such small legs, stepping over branches and fallen logs, hopping from rock to rock. She was also the least convinced that the hike was a good idea, that we wouldn't get lost or run into bears. My constant reassurance only helped a bit. Wayde and Gabe got far enough ahead that cresting the next rise, I didn't see a sign of them. I stopped and gave a four-finger whistle to get their attention and maybe a response. After the third whistle (it was really inobvious which way they headed) the reply came from somewhere close by but out of sight, three more whistles and replies as I moved forward trying to locate the direction, only to find them 50 feet to my right hiding behind a rock and giggling wildly. Yeah, yeah, okay.

Isabelle was smiling and laughing now, her knee forgotten. But the way was getting pretty steep, what snow was left was mostly packed ice and getting more plentiful as the grade steepened. We were still, 30 min later just skirting around the top, not heading down. Harry suggested heading down and Wayde thought we could maybe pick up the trail he had been heading for by heading down and the right. Rose was tired, cold, feet frozen and slipping often. To forestall a breakdown, I offered her a piggyback until we got to level ground. (foreshadowing music resuming briefly here)

As we began to pick our way down the hill, heavily using low branches and saplings for balance, it got steeper and steeper. The hiking slowed to carefully considered falls from one tree to the next. Isabelle and Gabe, after having slipped so often, found it easier to slide down on their bottoms. Harry kept positioning himself below them to catch any unforeseen slides which increased in frequency. Wayde kept saying 'follow me', 'over here's okay' and 'this looks pretty good' then suddenly disappearing from sight as his feet gave way beneath him, reappearing wide-eyed and laughing. With Rose on my back I was extra careful but didn't want to go too slow because it was now more than an hour after we left the cabin and I knew we had much further to go. Eventually even I had to slide down on my bottom. And once, (alarming shrill music) unexpectedly taking the sapling I had trusted to hold us with me, was saved by Wayde grabbing the collar of my coat as Rose and I slid by the tree we had been aiming for. I'd say we spent a good 30 minutes picking our way down the hill in thus fashion; 9/10ths adrenaline but saved from the fear of the reality of it by the need to be absolutely focused, the constant slapstick falls and the kids' laughter.(playful music)

Eventually we found a popular deer trail to follow which had Gabe warning "Poop!" about every 4-10 feet. 20 minutes on this brought us by a beautiful ice-encrusted powerful waterfall, 10-feet across, about four cascading 10-15 foot drops. We kept our distance because of the ice but as our energy was flagging, the powerful force of the water on the rocks gave some back. Soon we saw the back of a house and aimed for it and its driveway. Wayde counseled Gabe "If someone comes out of the house shouting 'No trespassers!', pretend you're a deer. If they have a gun, don't pretend you're a deer."

When we hit the road, finally, some 90 min after we set out, cars were just putting on their headlights. Only a mile to go, half of it uphill. Rose was 'shimmering' so much we put an extra coat on her and didn't insist she walk. It was only two hours of packing a six year old on my back, but I was thinking I'd probably do okay as a Sherpa. (pastoral music fading in and out interspersed with quiet conversation about the dark houses and empty factories we're passing by along the banks of the Housatonic)

Entering the Wayde's house at last around 6:30pm, its comforts seemed lavish. Rose got three successively warmer foot baths to stop the shimmering, Isabelle surfed the web on a laptop at the kitchen table, Wayde and Harry cracked a bottle of wine and I ladled out hot soup for everybody. Seeing my family tired but happy, huddled around that tiny kitchen table eating homemade soup and talking over one another with their own versions of the hike, I was happy for it all although my arms ached almost too much to hold my steaming soup-bowl. I hope it sticks in their memory for all time as it will mine. (sentimental reverie fading out)

Shimmering, Glowing

I love it when thoughts and messages and ideas collide. Like this morning which gave a new and full meaning to the word 'shimmering'.

First, the kid-speak part of it. Don't you love how kids hear words in line with their thoughts and they come out fancifully garbled. Gabe told me about the President's Day history lessons, learning about the founding forefathers and the 'Decoration of Independence', Rose always asks me to put her hair up in 'pink-tales' because the first time I did, I used pink hair bands. Rose again, on a couple of occasions, before a long anticipated pool-party birthday and during a very scary movie (yesterday), announced that she was so excited/scared that her legs were 'shimmering'. I laugh and laugh inside and I don't make any attempt to correct them.

Next was a gorgeous run this morning, my first since the marathon, but beautifully sunny and crisp. Before I left I was feeling shaky-quaky, not bad, but so full of energy that I couldn't wait to begin. As Rosie would say, I was 'shimmering'. When I finally hit the trail, the overflow of energy I had kept prodding me into a faster pace, which I would catch myself in the middle of, breathless, and slow down laughing. I was in no hurry, not racing, had nothing in mind but enjoying the harmony of the weather, my body and my spirit, in that timelessness of an early morning run. When I finished an hour later I was not really tired, but the energy had smoothed out all over me - I felt I moved from 'shimmering' to 'glowing'. Glowing is my own term, one I use for the post-race or post-workout high, not just adrenaline or endorphins, but the satisfaction of it. Its when something you've done physically causes more energy in you than what it cost, quite often because of the harmony of what you've done. Harmony, as on my run.

And finally, what brought it all together for me was the message of the day from a wonderful and inspirational web-site called the daily good (http://www.dailygood.org/) about our own unique energy;

"There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is nor how valuable nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open." --Martha Graham

-- a life force, an energy, a quickening --

A shimmering, a glowing - do these happen to you? Are you close enough to the sense of yourself as an energy spirit to feel these from time to time? Are there times when the very act of breathing is an immensely pleasurable experience? Maybe you think I'm a kook, and maybe I am, but its the kind of kookiness that I wish could infect everyone. And I'm ever thankful for the kid speak and early morning adventures that make it all clear.

(Thanks to Danny for the lovely picture.)

Enjoying the Freefall

'Change' is the new catch-all word for these times. I'm sure that just about everyone reading this is experiencing or expecting major changes in their life these days. Many of you, like me, have been relieved of their jobs recently. Connecticut ranks third in the uptick of job losses since the economic collapse of last fall and the biotechnology/pharmaceutical industry, which many of you share with me, has been hit particularly hard. Some of you are in the midst of a more blessed change, a new baby arrived or on the way. Many of us are in that famed 'mid-life' roller-coaster of emotions and realizations. In my own home, that will be paired, interestingly enough, with the dawning adolescence of our oldest child. Wow.

Whatever the flavor of change in your life, whether you volunteered for it or it was thrust on you, embracing it is the key. While I learned this early on, due to my father's playfulness with the truth and subsequently being raised on the fruits of Mrs & Mrs Taxpayer ( aka welfare), throughout my life, every time things settle into a comfortable pattern, inevitably colliding with change, I have to learn this lesson all over again.

We moved a bit when I was young; at the beginning of third grade, the summer between my freshman and sophomore years of high school, and then endlessly throughout college and graduate school. I found that I could recreate myself with each new arrival. They were chances to realign who I felt I was inside with how others saw me on the outside. In third grade it was deciding not to be timid anymore, taking more chances. By high school, it was stepping out of my sister's shadow, not being such a follower and ditching the 'bad' crowd who's fast ways seemed to burn them out before the end of high school. Leaving high school for college I decided to stop being the quiet girl whose name nobody knew and then college to graduate school, maybe I did like sports after all. I could go on (as I'm sure you know) but my point is that change is always an opportunity to re-evaluate who we are and how we want to be in this life.

Why then is change, even when we choose it, so unsettling? Because true change is rife with unknowns. Because even the best planned and tightly controlled changes, once set in motion, cause unexpected effects. Because, ultimately, change changes us! And yet so much of our life expects and depends on our consistency. Consistency is only a virtue in the short term. It communicates to others that we are dependable, we can be counted on, we have made a commitment. But it is not necessary that we be 'constant' to be dependable and committed. As the saying goes, 'The only thing that is constant is change.'

How can we 'embrace change' then? Can you remember, when you were young, the thrill of learning something new? Whether it was something in your world, a new place you discovered, or something about yourself, that you could ride a bike, that you could climb to the very top of a tree, there was always a domino effect to learning something new, a series of unexpected effects from this new knowledge. As a kid, secure with the belief that someone was watching out and caring for you, these changes weren't usually threatening. And the consistency demands on us as a kid were likely very small. We were free to enjoy the changes.

Change is inherently not 'good' or 'bad', but it is valuable. 'Bad' changes are usually necessary changes, they are the inevitable changes that can come from not making a voluntary change long before. Because they are necessary, 'bad' changes are often the most valuable. When things are stripped away from us by change, we can see how much of our identity was tied to those things, and how much value they added to our lives. Then we can evaluate whether our previous assumptions about them were valid. Change often breaks our routine and allows us to step outside of time and sort through our life, reclaiming things that had gotten squeezed out, discarding things that don't fit us anymore. Change allows us to discover what we are capable of and who we are at the core. That knowledge is invaluable.

There are a multitude of ways to think about and describe change and how, the degree to which we accept it determines the degree to which it is enjoyed or causes pain in our lives. Two of my favorites follow;

Do you know why, in a car crash involving a drunk driver, it is not unusual for the drunk driver to walk away unharmed? Their mind was impaired in communicating to their body the imminent danger and they didn't tense up. Like a rag doll, the impact of the crash was spread over their whole body meeting no resistance from muscles, attenuated by no fear from the mind. Quite often the pain we experience from change is due to our rigidity, our resistance to it and our fear of it. If we can consciously let ourselves fall into it, accepting the known and unknown aspects of it, trusting in the intrinsic value of it, its impact will be spread out, the sharpness of it softened. The pain and trauma of it can pass more quickly.

Coming from a more positive angle and almost every one's childhood, remember the allure of the swing, the trampoline, downhill on a bike, falling back into the snow to make a snow angel, roller coasters or just the occasional belly-flop hill, spinning around and around, arms opens until you could barely stand... the addictive sweetness of letting go, of the freefall, of being weightless for an instant and just feeling this life, the breath we are drawing in, the wind on our skin, this very moment. Change takes us out of time, however briefly, and roots us in the present. It allows us to let go of our expectations, our preconceptions. It can open us up to new and better possibilities. And it leads to new knowledge about ourselves and our world and that is a blessing.

When change comes, if we can let go of the past and accept not knowing future, we only have the present in all its weightlessness. And only in the present can we appreciate all that we are, all that we have, all that we have the opportunity to become.

Embrace your change. And enjoy the freefall.

Some Sedona Back Stories

Yet more pictures from Sedona, these ones compliments of Danny from Chicago (below) who was the angel that captured any images I have of the race. See, after taking both pictures and video before the race, I decided to leave the camera with Wayde instead of carrying it all 26miles. Wayde, as we joked later, seemed to have brought some of the 'black hole' effect he was looking for on our hike to the vortexes back with him to the race. After his impressive 30min27sec first-ever 5K performance, he promptly dropped his cash heavy wallet in this black hole (likely the parking spot beneath the car). Discovering it only when he hit the neighboring town of Cottonwood to buy a cell phone charger, he grabbed my makeshift wallet, which was actually the camera bag, to use for the afternoon. This too found its way into the black hole before I had even finished the race. At dinner that night, which Danny graciously treated us to, I assured him that it was fate that we met because he had my pictures. And what did I have for him? The poking, nudging and prodding supportive encouragement to start the swim lessons that will allow him to begin his triathlete career. And you've already started looking into it, right Danny? (I know he'll be reading this.) Thank you for the wonderful pictures, they bring back wonderful memories.


Just before gun time!

The in-park loop.

Somewhere around mile 4.

Coming back out of the trail section, mile 14?

Sedona, Arizona - February 2009

Driving into Sedona

Thursday Night's Sunset

Trails by the Airport Mesa

Hiking around Bell Rock

The Sedona Marathon

I awoke at 5am, Mountain time, showered and donned most of my race gear; bike shorts, tri-tank top, yellow bike shell, road ID and triumph bracelet, Nike running hat, Asics gels and camel back waist-belt. Wayde got up by 5:30 and we headed out for breakfast in the dark by 6am. I barely swallowed more than six bites of the oatmeal I ordered but enjoyed the coffee while pumping Wayde up for his inaugural 5K. We got to the race site, the Sedona Cultural Park, by 6:40am and got one of the last on-site parking spots. Dark, chilly, breezy but lots of energy in the air as we walked over to register Wayde and get any last minute info on the race start. The weather was predicted to be cool and possibly rainy or overcast. Cool it was, but beautiful large nimbus clouds dotting a brilliant blue sky once the sun came up just after 7am. They had separate starts for the marathon (first), half marathons (second) and 5K races so Wayde and I said our goodbyes minutes before 8am.

I decided against bringing the camera since I never picked up a decent armband holder for it but I ran into a new friend Danny, from Chicago, at the start and he grabbed a couple of photos just before gun time. It didn’t look like more than 200 runners for the full marathon.

The initial loop in the park goes steeply downhill, around the corner, then back up past the eerie abandoned outdoor amphitheater. Just past the first mile (at a 10:30 pace) we were on Dry Creek Road, away from the main traffic and headed down into the red rock canyons. I decided I did need the inhaler by mile 2, which was downhill but still bringing on a slight wheeze. It was hilly, but gently so until mile 4 which had a 10-15% downhill grade. My out loud comment to runners nearby that this was mile 22 in reverse elicited a few groans. But I wanted to envision the return and manifest my acceptance of this intimidating hill long before meeting it again. The aid-stations were many and well stocked, the temperature, starting out at 38F, climbed into the mid 40’s with a strong happy sun reflecting off the red rock giants to either side of us. It was 1hour 12min for the first ¼ of the run down. People’s spirits were good and the crowd around me became familiar. Curious, I tried to keep a tall brunette in view as the miles wore on. She looked a fit mid-twenty something but was alternately walking and running at 2min intervals, apparently both at a good clip since she pulled away by mile 8. What was up with that? We hit the transition to the trail section with just over 5 miles to the halfway point and turn around.

It was a relief to get off pavement after 8 miles of it and the trail felt remote and lush with pristine beauty. We were running out of the red rock formations but into the desert prairie with looming dark mountains 30 miles in the distance. So much sky out there, you feel as if there’s more air to breath, more sun to soak up. Up through mile 11 was energizing and uplifting. That's about when the fleetest of foot passed by us on their return. The first guy at ~1 hour 27min, the first woman at ~1 hour 42min, me at ten-plus miles, they at 16-plus and mostly looking good for it . Lots of smiles, encouragement and high-five in those passings. As the miles piled up, the footing took some care and the last bit to the turn-around got steadily more hilly. Cresting what looked like the last hill, seeing the aid station at the bottom and the sigh of relief just escaping my lungs, I looked further up to see the actual turn around at the TOP of the next not so small hill another 0.2miles on and dug in for the “Oh yeah, marathons have to be earned” phase. Almost exactly 2hours 30min to the half.

Although the temperature didn’t get far above 50, it felt hot and dry the first few miles of the return. And slowly, the optimism and high of the first half gave way to the focused determination needed to get through the second half. Miles were slower, creeping past a 12 min/mile pace, and I was looking forward to getting off the dirt road and back on to pavement by mile 15, three more to go before that would happen. Miles 15 to 18 were a constant effort to conserve energy, focus on form, exit stray thoughts. There were about 6-10 of us keeping the same distance, more or less, passing each other repeatedly depending on which aid stations one stopped at. A woman from Vancouver whose husband had run the half, a woman from Denver who had a support crew of six driving, riding mountain bikes and running beside her in turns. An Indian guy from Boston that decided to walk from mile 18 on. An older guy from Nevada that steadily pulled away by mile 20. Three women that seem to run/walk many marathons, talking the whole way about their entertaining personal dramas.

Once back on pavement with eight miles to go, I was happy but calculated I still had close to two hours at my current pace. All thoughts were on getting out of my physical body any sensation beyond what was needed to keep going. I clung to the idea that the vortex energy I had tried to absorb the day before on our hikes around Sedona would get me through. All hills were walked at this point, race-walking, as much as I could manage. The steep mile 22 wasn’t as bad as it looked going down, especially just walking it. My spirits were good, back among the beautiful red giants. Their timelessness pulling me out of my own telescoped experience again and again.

The steadily increasing headwind from mile 15 on didn’t bother me much, because there seemed to be more down-hills coming back than I remember up-hills on the way out. That's where the ability to hold tenaciously onto positive thoughts becomes priceless in a marathon. I actually ran almost the full account of mile 24 because of its extended down-hill and did get a 12min pace for the distance. That helped put something back in the tank for the last two-point-two miles, happy to join the traffic on Rt89 with less than a mile to go, happy to see the little hills before the last turn, the finish less than two hundred feet ahead, 5hours 33min. Danny got my picture coming in and Wayde met me a few minutes later, patiently waited while I got a much needed massage before heading back for champagne, and ice bath, an in-room Jacuzzi and a chest full of happiness.

A marathon is a journey, both inward and outward, both physical and mental. And at some point you have to relinquish control to see yourself through. You have to enter a state of acceptance for how you feel physically, which is challenged, if not downright awful, and then transcend the physical to keep moving forward, to cross the finish line. Not once, this process, but a dozen or a hundred or a thousand times, quite possibly, as many steps as there are between you and the finish. The closer that line gets though, the easier it is to do, to accept, relinquish and transcend, accept, relinquish, transcend...

And then you’re there, across the finish line and whatever that means for you, personally and uniquely, for whatever reason you first got the idea to run this marathon in your head – you have now made it part of your personal history. And your chest, no matter how ragged, deserves to be overflowing with inner happiness.

Physically, emotionally and especially biochemically, I feel very stripped down and raw the hours and days after the marathon. But this is useful too. This is what I am without my comfort zone wrapped around me. I am open, sensitive and vulnerable. The mightiness of the finish, which was 9/10ths adrenaline anyway, long since faded. But the memory of the run can come gently now and be examined without ego or regret since those take too much energy.

And still, there’s this undeniable satisfaction. This is the feeling I’ll still be able to pull out years from now with the memories of this journey – the deep satisfaction of accepting, relinquishing and transcending until it became as natural as breathing, as putting one foot in front of the other. All in the presence of those sacred red giants that embody this trinity longer than we humans have been walking the earth.