Dash

The Dash
There was a man who stood to speak At the funeral of a friend
He referred to the dates on her tombstone From the beginning to the end
He noted that first came her date of her birth And spoke the following date with tears
But he said what mattered most of all Was the dash between those years
For that dash stands for all the time That she spent alive on earth.
And now only those who loved her Know what that little line is worth.
For it matters not how much we own; The cars the house the cash
What matters is how we live and love And how we spend our dash.
So think about this long and hard. Are there things you’d like to change?
For you never know how much time is left That can still be rearranged.
If we could just slow down enough To consider what’s true and real
And always try to understand The way other people feel.
We’d be less quick to anger And show appreciation more
And love the people in our lives Like we’ve never loved before.
If we treat each other with respect And more often wear a smile
Remembering that this special dash Might only last a little while.
So when your eulogy is being read With your lifes actions to rehash
Would you be proud of the things they say About how you spent your dash?
Because that dash stands for all the time That you spent alive on earth
And only those who loved you Know what that little line is worth
It matters not how much you own The cars the house the cash
What matters is how you live and love And how you spend your dash
What matters is how you live and love And how you spend your dash.
~Linda Ellis
This poem was read at a funeral I attended this morning. The funeral was for a young father whose life was cut short by a tragic accident. 
When I arrived home, I needed to be alone for a bit to process my emotions.   I needed a run.  I could solve all the worlds problems on a good long run. There are days I am angry. There are days I just breathe. There are days I feel sorry for myself. The time out on the road gives me a chance to work through whatever I’m feeling. So I laced up my shoes and hit the road. 
I try learn from my past. The past has made me who I am in this minute. But I can not go back. I can not move backwards. If I live in the past and I will be full of sadness, anger and guilt. I need to continue to put one foot in front of the other and move forward. I can not focus too much on the future. It is not here yet. If I live in the future my life  will be filled with fear, worry and anxiety. I can not worry about what is to come. There’s nothing I can do about what has happened in the past, and the future will be empty unless I commit to living in the present.  I must live in the present. I must take each day as it comes and live it to the fullest. I can not long for the past or put off my life until the future. The time to live my life is now.
I want to spend my Dash well. I want my Dash to mean something.
 Peace.

Lucky

Today I decided to go for a quick easy 3 mile run and since the weather was cool, I invited my favorite furry running buddy, Wrigley. She was thrilled at the prospect of a run through new scents and sights especially since it has been too hot for her to run with me lately. We headed out on my favorite route here in Hill Country. It is 1.5 miles of heavy duty hills out to Lake Shore Drive which is a long gentle rolling road along the lake. It is a busy thoroughfare of bikers and runners every morning. Motorists are aware and usually swerve to the other lane giving the folks on 2 wheels or 2 feet room.

As my pooch and I ran up a slow grade going the correct direction (running towards oncoming traffic) I saw a large SUV approaching. A black Lexus I think. I could see the driver was on the phone and was not sure he saw me and my dog. I moved further onto the shoulder of the road as he approached. I thought at this point he would swerve over and avoid me….nope! His side view mirror caught my right shoulder and I heard it thunk. I lost my balance and twisted my ankle, falling right on my dog. She let out a loud, painful yelp. I skinned my knees and palms. I sat up and checked on the dog thinking the driver would slow, stop or come back. None of the above happened and I was too slow in my reaction to get the plate number. (this fact would upset my husband greatly when I told him later).

I stood up and looked around. No one was around. No one had seen what happened. My dog looked at me with her big brown eyes as if to ask, “did I do ok, mom?”. I gave her a good rub and we walked slowly about 500 yards to a house I know that has a drinking fountain out front. (thanks Hal and Rose!) I gave the pup some water and washed up my knees and hands with a Paper towel I found in the pocket of my shorts. I kept looking back thinking that this guy would come back. Soon I realized that he was not coming back…he didn’t care. I decided to try to run on my ankle a bit more but slowly. It was hurting but I wanted to continue because I was PISSED!

With a trickle of blood running from my skinned knee, Wrigley and I continued up the road for a bit. We soon turned around and headed back towards our beach steps. I took the steps down and took off my shoes and socks. The puppy started doing her happy dance. She knew it was beach time! We both ran full out towards the water and headed up the beach. As we ran, she tried to catch and bite the water. It is a favorite game of hers and I love to watch her play. So off we went for another mile and a half up the beach. My ankle was starting to hurt a bit more and my shoulder was sore so we turned And headed back. We walked up the beach and I collected my shoes and socks. I was too tired and lazy to put them back on. So we walked the few blocks home together, her all wet and sandy…me bruised, skinned and angry.

My savior!

I have to admit that continuing my run afterwards was good for my mind. I released a bit of my anger and felt better seeing my savior so happy to play in the water. But in the time since I finished my anger grows again. Why do people think that a phone call/text/email is more important than a human life? How does a person hurt another and carelessly disregard the action? Even if the driver had hit someTHING rather than someONE why didn’t he stop?

So I am grateful that I returned home with a healthy happy puppy, a bruised ankle, some skinned knees and palms and, most importantly, my life. All will heal and we will run another day. However, the karma that follows that driver ….that is another story.
 Peace.

Solemate

Being GOTR SoleMate means I have the honor and privledge of spreading Tutu Spirit along with spreading the message of GOTR. What is Tutu Spirit? Tutu Spirit is the embodiment of the spirit of every girl on the run…past, present and future. It is all of thier positive energy, joy, silliness, struggles, faith, confidence, fortitude, power, strength, and all the other wonderful, unique qualites that make up each girl.

Being a Solemate allows me to set an example for my own children, my GOTR and the children I teach. I hope that through my example they learn goal setting, balance, perseverance and healthy living.

Being a SoleMate also allows me to spread the word about GOTR to more people as well as fundraise so that more girls can join GOTR and reap the benefits of this wonderful program.

Being a SoleMate has allowed me to learn and to grow just as the girls in program learn and grow. Being a Solemate has made me a better person, a better mom, a better wife, a better teacher, and a much better coach. Being a SoleMate and sharing Tutu Spirit has changed my life for GOOD! Peace.

Do-over

Yesterday’s run was bad and it took me a while to recover mentally and physically from those 6 miles so I threw myself into chores like installing a new air conditioner.

While sitting with at dinner, I got an email with race photos from the weekend. I took one long look at the photos and realized I was smiling in every one. I was so hot but so happy. That is when it all hit me. The reasons I run.

People ask me all the time why I run. Why I like running because it is so hard/hot/cold/challenging … or whatever. I usually laugh and say I like it because it gets me out of the house and allows me to eat. But I realized last night that it is is much more.

I run for fun. I love the feeling of being silly when I run and making others laugh and  smile.  I run to inspire others. I may not be fast but I am still out there covering the distance and if even one person thinks that they can do something more because of me… That is a victory. I run to spread tutu spirit. I wish to embody the spirit of every Girl of the Run and share that spirit with all that I meet. I run not for the time on a clock any longer. Time I relative. When I started running I never thought I would be fast. . The dream of Kenyan like speed is gone along with my youth. I’m all good with that. As I get older I’m getting slower but fitter. I run now not for a PR on the clock but a PR in my heart and soul. I want ask myself did I give the race/run my best? Did I have fun with it? If not, then why. What can I do to make it better next time?

I woke up this morning with  new resolve to make it a better day. I planned a new route then laced up my shoes determined to relax and enjoy the run.  To have fun with the run. No Garmin. Just me, tunes and a water bottle.

The first mile was not easy…I’m not gonna lie. It was tough to get my head and my body in sync with each other. But soon I was smiling at my neighbors as I ran through sprinklers. I was singing to myself and dancing a bit as I ran. I probably looked like a bit of a lunatic but if I made people smile…it’s all good.  I rounded a corner and realized I was so into my run that I had made a wrong turn thus was a little lost. I know my ‘hood so I eventually found my way back home but in the process my 4 mile run had become a 6 mile run. Yup. I was in the process of a redemption run and didn’t know it!  As I ran up my block the City workman were opening the hydrant. I ran through that water like a little kid as they all laughed. It was the perfect ending to my run! 

We all have bad runs and good runs. We need both. We need the good runs to keep us running. We need the bad runs to help us appreciate the good runs. It is all about balance, redemption and a whole lot of fun! Peace.

Collision

This weekend my worlds all collided. The results were sometimes beautiful and other times disastrous.

After a carefree few days spending time with great old friends in the Northwoods,  we arrived home Saturday afternoon to the first collision. Our fridge and a power outage collided leaving the fridge with no power and full of rotting food. Time for a clean up and throw out of everything. YUCK! Out trusty old window unit air conditioner also collided with the power outage leaving the AC unit clinging to life via life support. It was time to put it out of its misery and I cried.

After a period of mourning,  I prepped things for my race the following morning. I laid out my clothes and Body Glide then continued to hydrate. It took Sleep a long time to enter into my zip code but soon my body and sleep collided. Sleep was fitful as I was afraid I would not wake up in time to run. The alarm sounded minutes after I finally fell asleep…or so it seemed. With 3 hours of sleep under my belt I got up and began my race day rituals. 


Once all the girls arrived, we buckled up Flat Sarah and we were off in the TMI truck to collide with the Rock and Roll Half Marathon. The ride was filled with laughing and joking around as per the usual. I love that we all ride together and release a little pre race stress with laughter and inappropriate conversation. 

We collided with our friends from running group outside the Congress hotel where we used the facilities and said a quick prayer. Soon my Moms running group friends appeared and introductions were made. It always seems to amaze me that runners are so accepting and generous. Runners all get along….no matter your background, if you show up at a race you can find a friend….new or old.

The giant group of us all walked to our start corral together. We chatted and laughed and new friendships were born. We all started the race together but were soon separated by our differences in pace. About mile 3 I could not hold it any more and really had to pee…I collided (really ran into it!) with a Lepre-Can (port a potty) thus I lost my little group. I had told them I would catch up but they sped up after I dropped off and continued at a faster pace. I jumped back on the course and, knowing full well that this stop as well as the heat had slowed me down, gave up any notion of finishing with a PR.

With this in mind I was determined to have fun with this race and make the most of the experience. Time was only a number on a clock and did not matter to me. So, I continued on. I collided with each water stop slowing to a walk and thanking each volunteer I passed. Theirs is not a glamorous job but they do it with a smile and an encouraging word. I collided with each and every band slowing down (not like I was going very fast!!) and stopping to dance. People laughed and cheered and smiled. I read each sign gaining energy from the crowd and soaking up the screams of “Go tutu lady!” like a sponge. When I collided with a hill I just kept repeating “hills make you stronger” as I ran up each and every one.

I collided with an old running friend who told me he had been inspired to lead a group of high school students through training for this race. He was running with a few and I was so honored and proud to join them for a mile. Soon they left me in the dust but I was doing ok and still having fun.

I was so glad to have my running friend, Flat Sarah, with me for these 13.1 miles. I talked to her, danced with her, laughed with her for the whole distance. She was a constant source of inspiration and encouragement as I could hear her voice in my head…”don’t give up!” “You got this” “Run, Bitch, Run”.
See, last week Real Sarah and I ran together. It was not an easy run for me and she kept me moving. I thanked her at the end of that run and she told me she was just paying me back for all the difficult runs I had gotten her through. Well, she did it again….I was almost to the finish.

So together Flat Sarah and I crossed the finish line …tutu and all! I was treated to a cold, wet towel, a smoothie, chocolate milk and water. YUMMY!  Sweet Rewards!

I found my friends and we all collided with one another back at the hotel where our adventure had begun. We shared stories of funny signs and funny people along the course. We shared adventure tales of our race experiences…and what an adventure in the heat it was for all of us! We shared sweat with the sidewalk!

Soon we parted ways and one group returned to the hotel as the other group returned to the TMI truck and headed for home…and a shower!

Later in the evening I was lucky enough to collide with 2 of my dear running pals that live out of town. We collided with enough food to feed an army…and the carnage left was not pretty!  It was so good to spend time with these ladies. They are such a big part of my life and I am blessed that our paths collided long ago…and even more blessed to call them friends.

Monday I picked up one of these ladies and we went to lunch…yup…more food!  I have spent the last week not falling off the weight loss train but taking a running leap and flying off as far as I could go!  Time to collide with that train again!

We went down to Taylor Street for pizza strudel and spent much needed time together, chatting about life and catching up. Back into the car and off to the airport we went. It was a sad to watch the last of my friends depart for home. We did not SAY goodbye though…we said see you soon…as in October. We will be together again for the Marathon in October…when worlds will collide again.  Peace.