Our Purpose

Every time I walk through the front door, my golden retriever (Sampson) runs around the house frantically until he finds a sock to bring me. His preference is one of my slipper socks, but he will settle for any sock. I'm not sure why he needs to do this, but it's incredibly important to him. As soon as he gets the sock (or socks) in his mouth, he gets this look of relief. It's like pure joy. In general, he is a happier dog when he has some socks in his mouth. I've read some theories as to why this is. It doesn't seem to have anything to do with chewing as he never eats the socks. Just carries them in his mouth. It could have something to do with our scents and the comfort he gets from that. I don't think he thinks it's a game in which he gets attention since we are all so used to it that no one really reacts to the socks in his mouth anymore except when he occasionally snags an expensive or coveted one. I've come to the conclusion that it doesn't really matter why he has this compulsion. He feels the need to do it and it makes him super happy...so I wonder what things are like that with people. With me. What things in my life am I just inherently and inexplicably meant to do that give me pure joy like Sampson and his socks?

Maybe the easiest way to narrow down what I am meant to do is by weeding out the things I know I am not meant to do. There are plenty of things that might feel good for a minute, but ultimately make me less happy. Being lazy, eating junk food, staring at my phone or the TV for a long time. Don't get me wrong. I have my moments. And these things can be ok sometimes...if I've earned them. Taking breaks and relaxing is necessary. But it's not what gives me joy. It's most likely the recovery I need from whatever I did that gave me joy. I think we are meant to be healthy and fit. Our bodies are these amazing machines that are capable of doing incredible things. I don't know why we would be capable of doing these things if we weren't meant to. Just like we're built to learn. It doesn't make sense that we would be born with not just the ability to take in information, but the persistent interest and curiosity to desire it if we were not meant to continue learning for our whole lives.

As for specific things that make me feel total joy, well I think these things may be specific to each person. The things that I love to do and I find relaxing and fulfilling might not cut it for someone else. And vice versa. I know that I love running. I get into this place that is like a clarity. I feel at peace and I can do my best thinking. If I know that I have some things weighing on my mind, I go for a nice long run to figure it out. Something like swimming is in the same vein...but not for me. There are people who get very relaxed while they are swimming whereas I generally experience the exact opposite of that. It feels closer to a frantic fight for my life while simultaneously getting extremely frustrated with myself for not being able to do it correctly or being able to shake the feeling of panic. Other sources of joy are more in the creative realm. Music, art, etc. I love sewing, cooking and coloring with colored pencils. I cannot knit and I'm not particularly into drawing, although those may seem similar to my interests. I have no musical talent whatsoever. The point is that we all have something, probably a few things, that we seem to be meant to do. And these things that we seem inherently meant to do seem to be really good for our minds or bodies. We're improving ourselves while simultaneously bringing more joy into our lives. And that joy leads to an overall sense of happiness and peace. I think if we watch for these things that lead us to this feeling of fulfilling our purpose, we can assume we are on the right path to leading the life we were meant to. And we can assume that we are all meant to grow and learn for our entire lives.

Maybe it's easier for dogs to know what they're meant to do because they have fewer options. We have a lot of choices to sift through. And we like to analyze. Dogs, and Sampson in particular, are not generally analytical. From what I have seen, Sampson is not at all discriminate about what he puts in his mouth. And to describe his behavior as impulsive would be a gross understatement. Maybe the fact that it's our socks that he eats is what matters. Not something random. They smell like his people. And we all seem to desire connection. It's part of our chemical makeup as mammals. The socks make him feel connected to his people. And we do seem to live more fulfilling lives when we share them with others. We're clearly meant to spend time with our families and friends. But relationships are complicated. Trying to find the balance of the give and take of a relationship is so tricky. Yet somehow, not at all for dogs. They are our loyal companions. They just love. I think that is something I overthink and overcomplicate. I don't just love. I analyze and carefully consider who I love and why. And how I will show it. And if I will show it. I think I would be a lot happier if I took a cue from Sampson and simplified. He overthinks nothing. I think it is our purpose to be kind and loving to others. Starting with our friends and families, but including strangers too. And the way to remove the analytical element is to remove the idea that there will be balance. Expect nothing in return. Such a hard concept for me after so many years of thinking that you get what you give. Like I've earned the right to be treated nicely because I did something nice. It probably does all turn out ok. But maybe the reward is really in the act. If I'm kind and loving to others, I'll feel good because I was kind and loving to others. Not because they were kind and loving back. The joy is in the act and not in the response.

I've been learning a lot recently about the importance of giving back and volunteering my time. I'm realizing that the greatest gift I have are my own experiences. Not because they are my memories to hold, but because I have them to share. This is how we inspire one another to keep going. Being an example or a testament to what is possible is perhaps the greatest reward we can get in our lives. That is how you know for sure that you are giving back to the world and making it a better place. When we're constantly trying to grow and learn and improve and are sharing ourselves and our knowledge and our experiences in a kind and loving way, we are living our purpose. We have meaning. Love really is everything. And love is an action. Love is greeting your best friend at the door with their sock in your mouth.

What do I Think

Someone asked me recently what I think about when I'm on long runs. They felt like they would get really bored being out that long. You know, I've never really thought about what I think about. That was a really great question. I know that the killer for me is to start thinking ahead. Picturing challenging parts of the run ahead or thinking about how far I still need to go. Over the years, I think I have worked on redirecting my thoughts in those instances to getting back into the moment. I think about how lucky I am. Just to be out running. That my body is able to do it. And that somehow I found a running partner who is also my life partner. It's amazing that my life, through all its ups and downs, has led to this point. I seem to be describing gratitude. Gratitude is the easiest way for me to shift into positive thinking. And stay in the moment. Let's be honest, staying in the moment really only works if you like the moment you're in.

Sometimes, when Steven and I are running together, we talk. We talk about whatever. Places we'd like to go, things we'd like to do etc. Sometimes we talk about work, family or real life goings on. A lot of the time we talk about pretty random things. We make up stories about the people we see. We'll make up names of people and conjure up some drama in their lives. And we will discuss, at length, the possible rationale for not waving or nodding hello. My brain needs to have an explanation as to why someone would not say hello back when out running or cycling on a bike path. What kind of a monster ignores a friendly hello? Sickos. That's who. We talk about what hurts and what doesn't. We talk about whether we're digging away in our pain caves or not.

Pain caves. A term we learned from world class ultra runner Courtney Dauwalter. The idea that you know you're going to be in pain on these long runs. And each time you are training yourself to understand that you can withstand more pain than you thought. So you go into your cave and you chip away at the wall. And the next time you're in that much pain, you already know you can handle that much. So you go back in the cave and chip away some more. It's not so much about focusing on how much pain I'm in. It's reminding myself that although it's very uncomfortable, it is actually tolerable. I can handle it. And shifting the perspective back to reality. I'm not dying. I'm not injured. I'm pushing my body and it wants to stop. But I will regret that. I will only feel better for a minute if I quit. Then I'll feel worse. A physical pain is way better than a regret in my book. So that's more or less the point. That's the pep talk I give myself so I can ignore the pain and keep going.

Steven and I like to binge watch TV shows. Especially after a long run. We'll lie on the couch, eating junk food and watching a show. (We have a rule that if we run over 15 miles, we are allowed to eat whatever we want. It really incentivizes running at least 15 miles.) I often get very invested in these shows and think about them while running. We talk about our theories and opinions of the stories. It's a good jumping off point for whole thought tangents in my head or a conversation with him. I also often start to fantasize about what I will eat or drink when I'm done. It's rarely anything healthy. I crave absolute junk while I'm out there. Mountain Dew. Nachos. Pizza. Fries. Fried Pickles. Mmmmm. But if I'm worn out and slowing down, I can get myself moving with the mere thought that I'm going to get to be lazy and gluttonous as soon as I'm actually finished. I'll usually start repeating the mantra to myself: 'the faster I run, the sooner I'm done.' In my experience, this works better later on in the run. If I start thinking this way too early, I just get anxious and don't enjoy the experience much at all. Best to stay in the moment as much as possible. Or escape into nonsense fantasy. But it doesn't work out to spend the entire run wanting it to be over.

When people say that running is mostly mental, they're really saying that your thinking is what makes or breaks you. I don't know if I agree with the idea that it's mostly mental. It's a physical activity that requires physical training. But requires mental training just the same. And if you don't teach yourself to stay positive and confident, you're probably going to struggle. Thoughts gather momentum. They gather steam and push forward in whatever direction they're going. People love to be right. If you start saying "I can't do this" your thoughts will try to reinforce that idea. It becomes "I can't do this because..." But the beautiful flip side of that is that if you say "I can do this" your mind will still just want to be right. Try to use this to your advantage. If you're thinking about being bored, try to think about what you would be doing so you wouldn't be bored. We are all gifted with imaginations and the ability to make up stories in our heads. Or little tricks to pass time. Sometimes I'll just count. Or try to recite things from memory. Lyrics to a song, lines to a movie etc. Try to be grateful for the opportunity to learn to get to know yourself and establish the ability to become your own source of entertainment. The greatest gift we can give ourselves is to become comfortable in our own skin and to find out that we're the most entertaining person we know.

Off the Rails

One of the hardest parts about life for me is accepting that I don't always do what I want to do or make what I believe to be the best and healthiest choices for myself...and that doesn't make me an absolute failure of a human being. I know that eating nutritious and healthy foods will make me feel happier and more productive. I know that if I'm running and working out regularly that running and working out regularly feels really good. I think one of the best feelings in the world is going for a nice long run and just feeling like I could run forever. But sometimes I find myself so far off the rails. It just happens. Maybe I got sick or had a bunch of stuff going on with kids and work or whatever. Doesn't really matter what the reason is. Life is basically never going to go as smoothly and according to my plan as I think it should. So, I need to rally and get myself back on track. Ideally without beating myself up. The physical pain and stress of restoring discipline should be enough punishment without adding in a bunch of negative self-talk. But that is a struggle. I consider myself to be a very capable person and I get disappointed when I'm not living up to my own ideals. And a certain amount of negativity can be a good motivator to change. Like, I don't want to feel this way anymore, so I'd better do something about it. The trick is to not sit in that negativity for long. Start turning things around and start focusing on the positives.

We recently bought our first house. Which is a very exciting thing. A very busy, time consuming, expensive and exciting thing. I now find myself off the rails. My path of healthy living is somewhere off in the distance and I need to figure out how to get back to it. Sometimes when this happens, I will take an extreme hard turn to get back there. I will follow a strict meal plan and exercise regimen until it feels natural again. That strategy has worked out just fine for me in the past. It does require some serious mental fortitude though. Self discipline is like a muscle. It needs to be trained and built up. Routines form and become easier and easier to follow. This time I have decided to take a week to ease back into the swing of things. I made the majority of our meals at home this week. Man, did that help. There is something so instantly satisfying and rewarding about cooking a nice meal. It's really easy to pull positivity from that. There is this feeling of fulfillment that I am always looking for. When I find it, that means I'm doing the right thing. I'm doing exactly what I'm meant to be doing. I get that feeling when we're gathered around the table eating a meal that I made. Throughout the week, I cooked dinner for 4 of the 5 weeknights. We did leftovers on Thursday because it is just a hectic night of chauffeuring kids around to their activities. Saturday night, I was simply too tired to cook. We had gotten up early and ran a trail race (*it was a really challenging race called the Soul Crusher AND we hadn't trained for it. So. We were wiped out afterwards). Made terrible food choices all day that day. And I'm ok with it. The options were either: A) I didn't stick to the meal plan, I'm still off the rails, I can't do this, I give up. or B) Oops. Took a little detour. Life goes on. Definitely B. Sunday didn't go much better. But Monday. That's a new day. First day of all day healthy eating. And meal planning. I think I'll even hang up a little white board with the meals for the week.

Also getting back into the swing of working out this week. We decided to try running on the bike path near our new house. Holy moly. That is a hilly route. We ran mostly in silence except for the moment when Steven said "how do you feel about turning this 8 miler into 6?" I can't remember my exact response, but something to the effect of "Oh my god yes, please." Then I got chatty the last mile or so with some whining about knee pain. Ooph. That was a rough one. The next day we went to the gym to do some upper body. Arms, back and chest. My armpits were very sore for a couple days after that. Hopefully it was worth it and they'll look very toned soon. The whole objective that first day back at the gym was to practice some restraint. Light weights. Sometimes I want to go right back at it like I haven't missed a beat. Then I can't move for several days. I want to be sore. Feels like I've accomplished something. But if I get too sore, I don't really accomplish anything else for awhile.

On Saturday morning we ran in our trail race. I'm going to go on a whole tangent about where I now stand on the importance of training for races and events...another time. Today I'll just say that we made it. The beauty of running with Steven is that we are able to push each other when we need it. I needed it that day. I struggled and basically could not wait for it to be over. But eventually it was over and I got to feel really proud for finishing that effing race. And it strengthened my determination to get back on track. I don't like struggling that bad through a run. I didn't enjoy much of it and I know that was because I wasn't prepared. I robbed myself of the reward of feeling my hard work pay off. The reward I got that day was from grit. Don't get me wrong. I love the feeling of doing something that seems impossible. I seek out that feeling too. But a race gives me the opportunity to feel both the reward of grit and the reward of hard work paying off. I only got one reward that day. But I got the motivation to work harder and get my life back to the path I want to be on. Not instantly. I kinda laid around like a bum the rest of the day. We hit the gym Sunday morning and did a leg day. Hurt like a mother. Woke up on Monday morning, cringing from posterior pain going up the stairs to the kitchen...where I made some steel cut oats with apples and cinnamon. Starting the day off on track. Meal planning, scheduling our runs and workouts, the routine falling back into place. And the peace of mind that comes from a plan and a routine that I know will make me feel fulfilled, healthy and productive. Back on that path that I know is leading somewhere good.

Wild Human Thing

We're getting back into the swing of things. Working out consistently. The only way I can describe Steven for the majority of our runs and workouts is pathologically encouraging. I don't get how he stays so upbeat. My idea of easing back into things has kind of gone out the window. My whole body felt like a knot this week. Mainly when I tried to use it, but I also noticed it when I was just relaxing. Like, we went to the movies and I realized my neck was struggling to keep my head up. I mean, it's a good feeling to know that I pushed myself and made my muscles sore. That feeling of accomplishment. Also a good feeling to know that it's working. Watching myself go up on weights at the gym or run faster miles. And without as much struggle. We did a 6 mile run that was nice and easy (that just means a slower pace. Not that it was actually easy.) I pretty much hated the whole thing. I had this urge the entire time to not only stop, but to literally lie down. Just like on the sidewalk. That's generally a gauge of what kind of shape I'm in. How long I make it before I just want to lie down. We did another 6 mile run about a week later and had shaved more than 30 seconds off our miles. I didn't hate it until about mile 5. Progress!

I'm not always sure how Mr Sunshine knows that I need some encouragement. Maybe because I slow down, get quiet or the labored, raspy breathing of someone who really wants to just lie down. I tend to think I hide it well when I am struggling. But he always seems to know. I think the reason is that he really doesn't care what the reason is that I'm struggling. He reminds me of that drill sergeant from GI Jane. You know when Viggo Mortensen reads that poem by D.H. Lawrence "I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself." But I am not a small bird. We went on a 10 miler recently and I felt VERY sorry for myself. I didn't bring a water source and I was really dehydrated. My mouth was all frothy and dry, I felt dizzy. And grouchy. And pathetic. I kept making Steven walk. And when we went by a bowl of water on the ground that someone had put out for doggies, I was tempted. That water looked amazing. A wild thing would have drank that water. I did not. Instead, I felt sorry for myself. Because I am a human.

It's hard to find the balance of knowing you're pushing yourself and trying your best and also knowing your limitations. I have heard people say that running is all mental. Nope. It's also very physical. I'm planning to be a runner for my whole life. I don't want to injure myself from overdoing it. Also don't want that to be an excuse to not try as hard as I can. I guess that is the plight of anyone with ambition. Finding that sweet spot. I mean, that bird may not have ever felt sorry for itself...but it froze to death on a bough. Maybe if it had felt sorry for itself it would have realized it was way too cold and tried to warm up. I get that it's supposed to be inspirational. But that bird was kind of an idiot. I need a better role model than that bird. A certain amount of self pity may be a good thing. It's all about balance. Setting realistic goals and taking the steps to achieve them. That's the human part. I think, for me, the "wild thing" part is in being flexible and forgiving in the way the plan goes. As a human, I want everything to go my way. If it doesn't, I get defeated. Too much self pity. As a wild thing, I need to accept that life doesn't always go the way I want it to and I need to adapt and roll with it. Not like "Oh, it's freezing. Better stay put and die here." But also not like "I'm getting off this bough and NEVER standing on a bough ever again!" Don't overthink like a human. Don't underthink like a dumb bird. But whichever way your thinking is leaning, it seems to build momentum. I feel fortunate to have a clinically encouraging training partner who doesn't let me ride that runaway train to my pity pot. I'm also a big fan of inspirational books and quotes. Generates a nice pool of thoughts to pull from when I'm down. Team Hoyt videos on youtube. Books by accomplished super humans like David Goggins, Dean Karnazes or this awesome one called Never Too Late about late in life athletes. I need the reminder of what is possible and what I can be capable of. And the perspective that whatever I'm doing is maybe not the worst or hardest thing that anyone has ever done. And that I'll feel really good when I finish.

The Ripple Effect

IThe routine of being healthy can be somewhat tedious at times. I'm noticing that although I sometimes just go through the motions and question 'whether it's all worth it'...someone is always watching and it's definitely worth it. It feels good to live a healthy lifestyle. Better mood, more energy and more opportunities as I'm not bound by physical limitations. But the discipline required for the day to day can become tiresome. Does it really matter if I eat breakfast? Take out for dinner would be so much easier. I don't need to run today, I can just go tomorrow. Or maybe this weekend. The gym is going to be crowded, I don't really feel like dealing with it. The dogs are going to interrupt if I try to workout at home. Why am I craving potato chips if my body doesn't need them? It's obviously a sign that I need potato chips! My natural inclination is almost never to do the harder thing. I want to do the easiest and most comfortable thing. I have to convince myself to do harder and less convenient things all day long. Over and over. Every single day. Gets easier as routines form. But the question does tend to cross my mind; "does this really even matter?"

Remember the saying "do as I say, not as I do"? Yeah. Does anyone really do that? Is there anyone who really does anything and adopts it as a lifestyle simply because someone told them to? I think I'm more one to emulate the behavior of people I respect and admire. That also gives me the feeling of autonomy. No one told me to do something. I made the choice. I'm more likely to follow through with something if I feel like it was my own bright idea. I think this is the case for most people. If you look at someone living the life you want, you think "how did they get that?" This is not to say that we should put the people we admire onto pedestals and assume they are infallible. They are not. They are human. But maybe there are some things that other people are doing that you would like to attain as well. Like, 'Hey Jones'...what kind of fertilizer are you using on the lawn to make the grass so green?'

I recently had an experience with my daughters that really shed some serious light onto this idea that what I do and what they see definitely matters. We were sitting at the dining room table and my older daughter said that they'd been learning in school about the importance of eating breakfast. The teacher told them that most parents set a bad example by skipping it and opting for just coffee instead. She said she raised her hand to let her teacher know "not my mom. She always eats breakfast. She sets a good example." Back at our dining table, my younger daughter responds "yeah, because mom always sets a good example with everything." I adjusted my halo and basked in these glowing revelations. Of course that is absolutely false. I screw up all the time. Daily. But I took that moment to think "they're actually watching me!" That realization has been incredibly motivating for me. I like my girls to see what is possible. And it made me think that if they're watching, who else is watching? I'm just a regular, average person. Hopefully the choices I make to be healthy or achieve different physical accomplishments make some other regular, average people think "if she can do that, I probably can too." The ripple effect of being a living example. Our small actions in our own lives can lead to others making small actions in their own lives. This happens over and over so that our small positive actions result in positive actions far beyond what we can see. It is kind of a bummer that we don't necessarily get to see the results. But I think just the awareness that we can cast positivity out like a stone onto a pond which creates this little positivity ripple is an incredibly inspiring thought. Living a good and healthy life means you're a good and healthy example. You're casting all these ripples that are bound to roll over others who will cast their own ripples. Kinda makes it all seem worth it, doesn't it?

Midwest States 100

I ran my first 100k. Although it was actually 65 miles since they threw in some bonus miles. So, 100k plus 3 miles. It was a doozy. I felt like I was as prepared as I could be. In hindsight, I still feel that way. And I knew that showing up prepared did not mean that it was going to be easy. It wasn't. It was crazy hard. I think being a trail run made it extra hard for me. My knees appreciated the cushier ground. The rest of my body was less grateful for the terrain. Particularly the rocks and roots and all the elevation changes. As with all the hard things in life, I'm very glad it's over. And I'm so happy I finished. It was worth it. I'd heard that it would be worth it. And I suspected that it would be worth it. And it really was.

When I got up on race morning, I was a little anxious. The forecast had been for a dry race, but the skies had opened up the evening before to a torrential downpour for a couple hours. Sleeping in the tent, it seemed as though it rained through the night. I figured it was going to be a rainy day. I drank a little iced coffee, ate a banana and got ready to go. Didn't realize until we got there that it wasn't actually raining all night. It was just the rain falling off the trees and hitting the tent. Normally one of my favorite sounds. That night it was a little different. Like, I'd wake up for a second and think about how nice it sounded. Then be like "oh yeah. Uh oh." Just back and forth like that all night. So I was relieved to learn that it wasn't raining. Although we did have mud to contend with in the morning, it certainly could have been much worse. And the temps were pretty ideal throughout the day. Considering the fact that it had been literally 100 degrees just two days before, a high of 72 was a miracle. Shout out to Mother Nature and the super weather for race day. It was awesome. Too bad there were so many rocks and roots on that trail. Plus the elevation. Really dragged down Mother Nature's yelp review. A lot. The trail was very narrow in most spots. A single file situation. The first mile took 17 minutes because we were marching along like little ants and weren't able to pass. Once we finally broke free, we ran for awhile with a gal running in a pair of yellow crocs! I'm a croc enthusiast. But it has never occurred to me to run in them. She said they're the only shoes she's found that don't give her blisters. Based on what my feet looked like after this adventure, I'm seriously considering running in crocs.

The first 20 miles or so were feeling good-ish. Felt good endurance wise. Knees felt good. Ground was all squishy and delightful...except for all the rocks and roots hidden in there. And the sketchy logs laid over the streams and big puddles. Navigated my way over the logs surprisingly well. Me landing a foot squarely in a big pool of muddy water would have been the expected scenario. Didn't happen though. Go me. I did start stubbing my toes really early on in the day and that was a persistent problem throughout the entire race. So persistent. So painfully and unbelievably persistent. It was infuriating. I'm still mad at roots. I am putting all positive references to that word on hiatus for the time being. And it will all be reflected in my yelp review of Mother Nature. I didn't like stubbing my toes early on. I hated it during the mid to late parts. But by the end I basically didn't care anymore. At some point it was like something just snapped in my brain and I fully accepted the suck. It was like "this blows. Everything hurts. It's not going to get better until it's over." But it still went in ebbs and flows. Just the cycle of the ebbs and flows got shorter.

This trail was like a metaphor for the whole experience of running. Literal and metaphorical ups and downs. Some parts were so pretty and felt so rewarding. Other parts hurt and made me want to just lie down on the ground. But one of my biggest takeaways from this experience was the realization that ultra running is a team sport. Not the running itself. But the people volunteering at the aid stations and the other runners you spend some time with or pass along the way. The encouragement you get is everything. Your mind is going to keep trying to tell you that you should quit. It's not possible. You will feel better when you just stop. You need those reminders that it is possible. And that it is worth it. In the grand scheme of things, this is a very small amount of time. It won't feel like a long time when you look back on it. But it's going to be a really big deal to finish. It's the kind of accomplishment that changes how you identify yourself as a person. Your bad ass status will be cemented. At any point in the future, if you aren't sure if you can do something or withstand something, that doubt can be removed.

Although it isn't an enormous amount of time in the grand scheme of things, it sure does feel like a ridiculously long time when you're in it. Getting that time to feel like it was still moving forward was the real challenge. At many points it seemed to be stalled. You know the theory that Santa Claus is able to make all those deliveries in one night because he is able to slow down time on Christmas Eve? No? There are dozens of books and movies about this. My favorite is The Night they Saved Christmas starring Art Carney as Santa Claus and Jaclyn Smith as the mother of the children in the story. It's a classic from 1984 that has really stood up to the test of time itself. At any rate, this was largely my experience while running for 20 hours. It's already a very long time. But it felt somehow even longer. Especially later on. The last few hours felt like at least half of the race. I started making a game of the time. I'm not going to look at my watch until I get around that corner. I'm not going to look at my watch until I count to 500. That kind of stuff. I have this fantasy that I'm going to have some kind of JK Rowling moment when I'm running. I'll come up with this whole amazing world in my head. I'll totally escape into it while I'm running so the time flies by. Then I'll get home and write it all down and become a millionaire. Yeah, well that hasn't panned out so far. Unless someone wants to read a book about me counting to 500 over and over. I think I also started to get concerned about my well being and sanity. Like, I started having issues with my vision. The peripheral went black for awhile. I don't mean dark. I mean black. With a clear straight line where the black began. Almost like someone had put a piece of black plastic through the center of my eye separating the front and back. I didn't know what could be causing that. But I assumed it wasn't good. Like I was about to faint or die maybe. It was very concerning. I feel like if I had let my mind wander at that point it would mean that I was hallucinating or crossing over the line into the spirit world. So I kept myself focused on the here and now. Reality. Counting. Maybe next time I'll start imagining my version of a wizarding world or a thought provoking mystery a little earlier on. I'll work on managing my imagination more effectively. I think all that matters is that I survived out there. One way or another, the brain protects itself.

Another thing that kept me going was Steven. He knows how to play my ego and stubborness. I was seriously contemplating dropping out at one point. The vision thing freaked me out. And the pain in my shins. I have never run through that much pain before. Similar to how they felt when we'd hiked the Presidential Traverse (a 21 mile hike through the presidential range of the White Mountains.) It was significantly more elevation gain, but a lot less time. I didn't have to deal with the pain as long. Also, there was no Plan B for getting back to the car that day. I had to use my feet. On the 100k, the pain started to feel intolerable. Literally. Like it was not possible to tolerate that much pain. And I knew that I could quit at an aid station and get a ride back. When you don't have to do something, when you have an option to quit, it creates an option in your head that you need to wrestle with. I started to lose the battle. All Steven had to say was that he thought I should quit. And that he would keep going. Um, excuse me?? No. That's not how that would play out. No way. Gauntlet thrown. Option to quit gone. Yes, running is mainly a competition with yourself. But, in my case, it's also a competition with Steven. I'm not necessarily proud of the lengths I will go to in order to not let him outdo me. But, it is what it is. If he was going to keep going, so was I. That's why running with him gives me an advantage. It's like an extra layer of mental fortitude. And it's like being on a team. I'm not only letting myself down if I fail. I'm letting him down too. That's a very motivating thought.

I often think about how you never know who is watching. But the things we do end up mattering to others. Even if it's not right away, the things we do make differences. Like ripples being cast out onto a pond, somehow our actions will touch the lives of others. It's inevitable. In this instance, I did something that seems like it would not be possible. When I was about 20 years old, my mom decided to thru hike the Appalachian Trail. It took lots of planning and about 6 months of her life to accomplish it. And in that moment, I realized that a 50 year old woman doesn't have limits. That myth was unlearned by my brain. The idea that a goal is just a dream with a plan became a philosophy of life for me. Running my first 100k means I put that philosophy to the test and it passed. I'm a 41 year old mom who ran for 65 miles over hilly, rocky trails. I trained for it and willed myself to finish. I don't have limits. If I do, I haven't figured out what they are yet. Maybe someone else will think that if a 41 year old mom can do that, maybe they can too. And maybe my two little girls will think that if their 41 year old mom doesn't have limits, they don't either. Life gets to be way more exciting when you start thinking that more things are possible. you.