A to Z Challenge 2015 – Page 2

E is for Eating (not, as I had hoped, Expectations and Eeyore)

Published on April 7, 2015 by PamLeave a comment

This is my fourth attempt at today’s blog. I have three drafts that remain unpublishable, not one of which has anything to do with food, but all of which try to parse the meaning of Expectation. No matter what I write, none of them meet my expectations, so I’m going with this blog instead:

I admit it—I run so that I don’t have to watch what I eat. After many years of struggling with my weight, I have finally found a solution that works for me. Instead of dieting, I run five miles five or six times a week.

I have a strong aversion to most healthy foods—not a fan of much of anything green and leafy, and I truly love my carbs and fats. I’ll eat the occasional salad—I don’t mind a green salad with tomatoes, avocado, carrots, green onions and the like, but don’t make me eat beans, broccoli, cauliflower or, god forbid, brussel sprouts.

I think I spent too many long and lonely nights at the family dining table with a plate of cold vegetables in front of me. Before we could be excused from the table, we had to clean our plates. These nights of eating cold congealed vegetables scarred me, as so many childhood experiences do. Tall cold glasses of milk only do so much to disguise the nasty taste of cold canned spinach or to cover the texture of frigid canned peas.

So, you can keep your kale, your asparagus, your squash, yams, cabbage, and lima beans. I’ll take a long run and a big bowl of pasta any day. I’ve tried to go dairy and gluten free, but I would rather run another lap than put soymilk in my morning cup of coffee instead of half and half, and I really don’t want to have to drink that beer that’s brewed without wheat.

On the other hand, I don’t eat much of anything that’s processed and I never eat fast food, or drink soda, diet or otherwise. So while I may not be the poster child for perfect food pyramid eating habits, my body is not a dumping ground for the food equivalent of toxic waste either.

I eat to live and
run to eat. I Expect that
this will have to do.

C is for Compassion

Published on April 3, 2015April 3, 2015 by Pam7 Comments

On my run this morning, I spent most of the time pondering what to write today, what C word I wanted to focus on. Running brings to mind many things that start with C: competition, clothes, chafing, character, courses, Carol Frazey (Fit School Guru, coach), Cami Ostman (inspiration, writer, runner of marathons, friend). Circles (as in my favorite running route, which is essentially a circle).

Between thoughts of what to write about, I discovered I was chastising myself rather relentlessly. And that’s when my topic for today came to me: Compassion. For myself and for others.

I saw a headline on Facebook the other day that said something like “imagine if we talked to other people the way we talk to ourselves.” I thought about that for a moment (I didn’t click through to the article, but I could imagine well enough how it went). I don’t think I’d have many friends if I talked to others the way I talk to myself.

Imagine if I said these things to my running buddies: “Come on you lazy ass—get out of bed already. You can sleep when you die.” “Ugh, you really need some new running clothes. These are so unflattering.” “Jesus, pick up the pace already.” “Don’t breathe so loud! You’re scaring the other runners.” “How can you still be so slow after a whole year of this?” “I HATE running. Why do I torture myself?” “You should be better at this by now.”

Then, I considered not just what I say silently to myself, but what I think about other people as I run. I make up all kinds of crazy stories and confer relentless judgments on people I see on my routes, especially if they impede me in some way. Like groups that take up the entire width of the trail, or folks that smoke as they walk, or parents with children (in strollers, on bicycles, or running free range), or those that don’t keep their dogs on leashes. Never mind the people that don’t pick up after their dogs.

I have HUGE judgments and my internal monologues about them can be just as brutal as the ones I have about myself. This is not an easy admission—in fact I feel a great deal of shame as I even write it. And once I had this epiphany this morning, I immediately started practicing compassion. I don’t know what is going on in anyone’s life but my own, so it’s time I started cutting everyone some slack. What would it hurt me to give folks the benefit of the doubt? To show a little love to my fellow travelers and cut down on the snark and self-absorption?

I know for a fact that I’ll feel better. I’ve written a lot about running happy and how running does in fact make me happy. But maybe it’s time I start spreading some joy while I’m out there. Smiling instead of grimacing.

I have made a few friends on the trail in the past year—there’s the lady with Buddy the Dog who walks nearly every morning. And Diane, who stopped me one day last summer to tell me how great I looked. We talk now and then. And John, who is out there religiously. There are the women with the stroller, one of whom wears bright orange shoes and a skort. We wave and smile and warn one another if we see something suspicious.

I feel a little bit like the soft drink commercial—the one where the bottle of soda gets passed around to whomever is in the most distress. As sappy as that ad is, it still makes me misty. Something magical happens when ease up and spread a little love.

Compassion falters,
and then I remember: We’re
in this together.

A is for Accountability (And Also April and Anxiety)

Published on April 1, 2015April 2, 2015 by Pam6 Comments

When I started running seriously about a year and a half ago, anxiety propelled me out of bed and into my running shoes every morning—that relentless pounding thrum that only abated after my endorphins released around mile three or so. I wasn’t sure what would happen if I didn’t lace up my sneakers every morning, but I certainly didn’t want to find out. Once I hit mile three, the agitated voices in my head calmed down, and I could go on with my day. Until the next morning when we (the voices and I) started again.

I’d met April sometime around Christmas 2013 and joined her and other members of Carol Frazey’s Fit School on occasional weekend runs. In mid-March April announced she was training to run the Vancouver BMO half marathon and needed someone to run with on her long run—11 miles. Up to that point, my longest run ever had been seven miles (and not easy ones, either), but I agreed to join her on her long run anyway. What’s the worst thing that could happen? I’d have to walk part of the way? I’d get in really good shape?

We made the 11 miles and struck up an alliance along the way. I don’t remember exactly what transpired next, but eventually April and I were meeting up three or four mornings a week to run and train together. We didn’t actually run together after that first 11 miles—we have wildly different paces and distance goals, but we held one another accountable.

And accountability is key. Knowing someone is waiting at the trailhead or in the parking lot at 7:30 or 8 a.m. is a good motivator. Even if I don’t feel like getting out of bed, let alone going for a run, I can’t leave April hanging, and I am confident that she won’t leave me out there to face the early morning hours alone either.

I’ve lost count of how many races we’ve done in the past year or how many laps we’ve traveled around Lake Padden or how many miles we’ve logged on South Bay trail (actually, not true–I could tell you exactly, but I won’t). But I haven’t lost sight of how important it is to have her there so I’ll get out of the car and run in the rain, the wind, even through the thunder and lightning (though I don’t recommend the latter).