Get Comfortable Being Uncomfortable-Spartan Round 3...Part 1 The Super

The title of my last Spartan post was, "Embrace the suck."  That was after running my 2nd Spartan race ever, another sprint in some terrible conditions.  2017 was going to be the year of my trifecta.  So, round 3 of Spartan would consist of 3 races-sprint (5 miles), super (9 miles), and a beast (12 miles).  In May I traveled to beautiful Colorado Springs to run the first two legs of the trifecta-super and sprint- in the Spartan military series at Ft. Carson.  I had never run the super before and now I was not only going to run my longest race to date, but I was going to turn around and run the sprint the next day!  A few of my concerns, besides the obvious back to back days, were the altitude and the hills.  The altitude ended up being a mostly non-factor-tried to drink lots of water and get good sleep.  But those hills during the races were a killer to the ankles.  You kept going up and up and up....then down and down and down on very rocky terrain.  I had to tape my ankles for the next day.  So much strain on them going down the hills.  I'll never forget the worst 2 hills I have ever seen in my life.  The first was for the bucket brigade.  Carry a 5 gallon bucket filled 3/4 of the way with rocks, without a handle, straight up and straight back down.  (I paid money for this??) I saw guys puking on the way up and folks slipping and falling on the way down (I would end up doing that on the 2nd day).  At the end of the race, the only concern I had about the next day was having to do that obstacle all over again.  Thankfully, they didn't make you go up the entire side of the "hill" for the sprint, just halfway.  That day though I stopped to make sure someone next to me was okay and I slipped on loose rock and fell

on a cactus and the bucket of rocks landed on my thigh (now I was the one being asked if I was okay!).  That left a mark.  But back to the hills!  The second terrible hill was the never ending hill right at the end of the race.  You've gone almost 9 miles (not counting the ruck carry, sand bag carry, and bucket brigade miles) and this route kept going up and up and up.  I literally could not see the top and it was just an endless back and forth going up.  That hurt the legs...and the lungs....and the morale.  At the top I can still remember the wind whipping the flags of the Atlas carry obstacle followed by the Olympus (did it), monkey bars (didn't complete that), and finally the fire jump.  I went into the super having never "rung a bell" on any obstacles.  Not all obstacles have bells but some do-rope climb, z wall, olympus, multi rig, monkey bars, and twister.  I was able to ring the bell at the z wall, olympus, and twister-two of those obstacles I had never seen before and I was so stoked to complete them that I was on a high running to the next obstacle.  I almost hit the spear throw each day-one stuck in the wooden frame and the other went in...then fell out.  So close!  Monkey bars and the multi rig are next on the list to conquer.  So is the rope climb but dang that one is hard!  There were several "carries" in this race, especially with it being a military race.  Sand bag carry, ruck carry (I saw those rucks pulling guys backwards), and the bucket carry.  At the end, without knowing what to expect for a time especially with altitude, hills, and the distance, I was super proud of my results.  3:39:38 over an unofficial 9 miles (Spartan only counts the distance between obstacles and not the distance ran while AT the obstacle "funny math"), only failed 4 obstacles (rope climb, multi rig, spear throw, monkey bars-A-mazing!), and hit 3 bells...and I was still alive and walking and willing to do it again the next day.  :-) That night I did something that's a little out of my comfort zone and went out to eat with people I didn't know, racers that are a part of the Spartan 4-0 group.  Had some good food, continued to drink water like it was going out of style (3 times a night to get up to pee might mean I was well hydrated), and then headed back to bed for another race in the morning.  1 down...2 to go!

6 Years

So, first off, apologies to my tiny blog world for falling off the radar and not blogging for the past 10 months.  Oops!  My bad!  I've set a goal to blog at least once a month in 2018...once a week would be awesome but let's set me up for success here at first.  You can hold me to it...at least try to!

Wow.  6 years.  6 years today.  January 2012.  I've written about this before but this still means a lot to me and where I am now in my life.  I had had surgery on my foot in early January to take out a growth on my nerve that had occurred due to an injury.  I had spent a few years hurting going to different doctors and getting wildly different diagnoses.  I couldn't run, didn't walk without pain.  I thought that this was how it was going to be...forever.  This surgery was going to finally get me back doing all the things I had given up doing. But about 3 weeks after surgery I got an infection and with it a lot of pain and fears.  I definitely was fearing the worst case scenario when I went back to the doctor. Would the surgery that was supposed to give me back a pain free foot going to turn around and possibly take it all away from me?  The sleepless nights when the painkillers didn't work.  The worry that I had to combat and ask God for peace when I had none, trust when I had little, and healing.  This all took place within the matter of 4-5 days (the worst of the infection) but it might as well have been a month in my mind.  But I don't write this to talk about what did happen or what could have happened.  I write this because of what happened afterwards.  This "gift" wasn't going to be wasted.  Another chance to do things I wanted to do, even though I didn't know I wanted to do them yet!  

Later that same year I did my first Warrior Dash and did 5 more after that.  I have run a half marathon.  I have done 5 Spartan races and earned a trifecta.  For every single one of these races, this event, January 2012, has been on my mind at some point.  It's usually in the form of, wow, look what I'm doing now!  And to think I almost couldn't do any of this again.  I almost broke down in tears as I hit mile 12 of the half marathon when I was so overcome with emotion.  Emotions of gratefulness, of thankfulness, of gratitude.  I learned to not take any of what I was doing for granted.  In the grand scheme of things, this was a small event.  I was never in any life threatening situation but I still came out of it with a changed perspective.  Don't take any of it for granted.

Mrs. B!

I was out buying a baby shower gift the other day and it was requested that you bring a book signed by you for the baby.  My "go-to" book for these kinds of occasions is Dr. Seuss' "Oh the Places You'll Go!"  Whenever I think of this story, my mind immediately travels back in time to the very last day of high school in Mrs. Brown's English class. I wish I could accurately describe Mrs. B....but I don't think I can.  She didn't fit the mold...she broke the mold.  As I was thinking about her, I thought I should tell the world about her, at least my little part of the world.

Mrs. B was probably one of the most influential teachers in my life.  Going to a small Christian school meant that you had a lot of the same teachers throughout the years.  Often times they taught classes for both 7th graders and seniors.  I had her for 5 of my 6 years on the high school side of the road. Every year, every week, we had spelling and vocab lists.  Thanks to her, I can spell!   Every year, we continued to diagram sentences.  We read books...we took quizzes...we took tests on Hamlet...we wrote haikus and limericks...we memorized and recited poems...we even had to memorize part of the prologue to Canterbury tales (have you looked at old english before?) She pushed and pulled us in every way.  Our senior projects prepared us for college in big ways.  Each of these projects took the whole semester to complete....on top of the weekly vocab lists, diagramming sentences, and weekly readings/quizzes.  (English in college had nothing on this lady!) 1st semester-epic poem written in iambic pentameter and a whole bunch of other rules regarding number of lines, etc.  I wrote mine on Chuck Yeager.   Second semester-thesis driven paper.  I did mine on how the Chronicles of Narnia were written to parallel the Bible.  Notecards, hours in the library, countless outlines, drafts, etc.  Mrs. B was hard...she was relentless...she pushed us....but she wasn't afraid to let loose, grab her "sword" and stand upon her desk as we read Shakespeare.  She read with fiery passion and diagrammed sentences with intensity.  Every January when class resumed, we had to come back with what our favorite and least favorite presents were and she kept a running tally for all grades.  While I will never say that English lit and grammar were my favorite subjects, I will tell you that this was my favorite class.  When I say that Mrs. B broke the mold, I mean that she didn't necessarily fit the stereotype of a Christian school teacher.  She was a woman of strong faith who wasn't afraid to be her.  She was very encouraging of me for choosing to go to a public university and choosing to take my faith to the world.  She pushed us to find who we were, what we liked doing, and to go out there and do it.  So on the last day of high school, when she got up in front of the class to read "Oh the Places You'll Go", and told us to get out there and do good and she started to cry, we knew.  We knew she had been preparing her little birds, all these years, to be ready to fly on our own.  She gave me tools that I still remember and use almost 20 years later. 

 "You're off to great places! Today is your day!" You're off to college, today IS the day.  “You'll get mixed up, of course, as you already know. You'll get mixed up with many strange birds as you go. So be sure when you step. Step with care and great tact and remember that life's a great balancing act. Just never forget to be dexterous and deft. And never mix up your right foot with your left.” Don't get mixed up with the wrong crowd in college.  "Your mountain is waiting...now get on your way." 

Thanks to Mrs. B I started to learn about getting out into the world, about getting out of my comfort zone, and that I didn't have to fit into some standard mold.  I didn't completely come to grips with the entirety of those lessons until I came to camp and it become real, but I had someone who started that long ago.  You were a heck of a teacher!  Heck, you still are from what I hear!

February 14, 2017

Valentine's Day...2017....a day I won't soon forget.  I have thought about this day every day since then.  I can tell you where I was, how I felt, and what I was doing when I got the news.  Thinking of that day, the emotions flood back, the tears have to be held back, it's like opening a scab on a wound that's still fresh. It's been hard to say out loud...we talk about the "events", the "girls" but it's hard to say it.  To say that Libby and Abby were murdered, that their lives were taken at too early of an age, that some sick bastard did unspeakable things to them and is still out there...I can't say it.  I have seen loss before but never loss that wasn't accidental or due to illness/age.  These lives were forcibly taken by the sick actions of an animal (because whoever would do this has no conscience).

Everything looked different after that...everything felt different...town, people, everything had such a solemn quiet air about it.  When you went into town, the air felt electric, but not in the good way.  News vans everywhere you can see.  You'd see them outside your normal shops but the last thing I wanted was to be stopped and asked about the situation.  It was way too fresh, too raw, emotions were running rampant.  FBI vans, lots of police, lots of activity that this little town has never seen before.  This town was not known before and now will unfortunately be known as a place of tragedy.  As much as the suspect's picture has been featured, once he is caught, I hope his face is not plastered across FB but that we remember the lives he devastated.  He should get no fame, no press from this.  The support from surrounding schools and communities has been amazing.  Sad that it takes tragedy to pull us together despite our differences.  What can happen if we do that more?

When I got the news that Monday evening that the girls were missing, something didn't feel right.  I had the privilege back in 2014 to coach these two young ladies in volleyball.  We were not the most talented group to say it lightly....most had never touched a volleyball in any organized fashion before.  Abby and Libby were always eager to learn.  Lots of life.  Lots of joy.  Honest, good teammates, good friends.  We learned a lot together.  It was my first time coaching...it was their first time in school sports.  I wanted so much to teach them more than just volleyball but about being a good teammate, a good sport.  These kids caught on much more than I ever expected.  We had instituted a "rule" that if you didn't call for the ball during scrimmage, everyone on your "side" ran from mid line to the end line of the basketball court and then back to your spot.  So your actions affected the whole team.  And your teammates held you accountable.  Of course they complained at first...who doesn't?  But eventually they stopped complaining and would just do it when I called out, "No one called!"  But one time....one time....they didn't call for it and I didn't catch it....and they looked at me and admitted, "We didn't call for it." And so they themselves called it out and they ran.  At this moment, I knew they understood.  I was as proud of them in that moment as I was the first time they won a game (and only time!).  The second time I was proud of them was when I realized that we were one point away from winning our first game and I saw that the other team's worst server was up (and she had special needs) and I called time out right away.  Everyone, even my co-coach, was super confused but I explained that, more than likely, that girl was going to miss her serve and we would win.  But I wanted to explain how to be a gracious winner.  We had lost a lot, we hopefully had taught them to lose with grace but now we needed to win with grace as well.  I didn't want them to celebrate and yell because of how that girl would feel...the same way we felt for most of the season.  I sent them back out and reminded them that they could be happy but our celebration would occur in the locker room.  As excited as I could tell that they were, they held their giddiness in and won the game gracefully.  They celebrated like fools in the locker room but that was okay.  Good kids, solid kids, kids I didn't think were capable of running away or being irresponsible.  I had a terrible gut feeling that something wasn't right and I prayed and hoped that I was wrong.  But I wasn't wrong and I wish I had been.  Your heart can break, your heart can heal, but it won't be the same.  God heals the brokenhearted.  Our God is in control.  Our world is evil. But our home is not here. Keep in mind those who go home to an empty room, an empty chair at the table for they will live this over for weeks and years to come.  Pray for justice on earth as I know that justice in Heaven will surely be done.
Psalm 34:18 "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."

Embrace the Suck-Spartan round 2

About a month ago I participated in my second Spartan Sprint.  After my first race in May, I knew exactly what I was getting myself into and I knew I had to be prepared to be pushed mentally and physically but also knew how I'd feel in the days following the race.  (Read that as..."not so good"!) But it was going to be nice to experience the race with a partner.  So Emelyn and I road tripped down to Atlanta to volunteer for the kids race on Saturday and then run the race Sunday.  It was a much cheaper way to race when you volunteer because you get a free race out of the deal.  We decided that since kids were our specialty, why not volunteer for the kids race?! We drove down Friday to Conyers, GA and got up early the next morning to head to what we would later find out to be the site of the 1996 Olympic Equestrian cross country course.  It was chilly...cold for Georgia...and we met up with some outgoing crazy fun folks and waited for the kids to show up.  Our job was very simple.  Move a ribbon from one side to the other depending on if older kids were coming through (1 mile course) or the younger kids (1/2 mile course).  It was fun to watch the kids and encourage them.  It was cold and the kids had to get wet right off the bat so by the time they got to us, they were wet, cold, and many were crying and shivering.  I felt bad for them but I was also pretty pleased to see that no one was giving up.  They may have wanted to and maybe their parents wouldn't have let them if they tried, but they stayed on course.  A big part of the Spartan founder's ideals is how do you deal with obstacles in your life?  Groan, mumble, complain?  Or run at it, conquer it, embrace the opportunity to become stronger?  Spartan races came onto the scene around 5 or so years ago.  He wanted to push people out of their comfort zones and intentionally put obstacles in their way that they would have to work through.  But let's get back to this particular race.  After eating out at Outback steakhouse and getting plenty of protein (and some carbs in those potatoes!), it was an early bedtime for us.  We'd already napped after volunteering (who knew how tiring that would be?!) but it wasn't hard to fall asleep.  We had decided to choose the early race time the next morning due to the incoming rain.  No matter what, it was going to be a chilly 40 degree rainy day, but might as well get there before the course got too torn up.

When we got to the race, no rain...yet.  As we got ourselves ready and stood in the line up corral, still no rain.  Just before our wave started though, it began to really rain.  So we're wet before we start.  Good old Georgia red mud. We get going at a good pace-jumping over walls, crawling under walls, climbing over round bales, running through the woods.  No burpees yet.  About 20 minutes in we hit the monkey bars...these aren't your average playground monkey bars.  Big bars, staggered up and down, and fairly far away from each other.  I didn't get past the first one when I did my first Spartan and I had been using the monkey bars at camp's playground to practice (however they are much smaller in diameter and close together).  My goal was to do better than last time.  And I was able to make it to the 3rd one...but it still meant 30 burpees for not finishing.  Off to the Atlas stone.  Pick up a 40 pound cement ball, walk it to the other side, drop and do 5 burpees, pick the ball back up and return it.  By now it is so wet and sloppy out.  Off to the mud pits to climb in and out of leading right into the barbed wire crawl.  It was actually a tad bit higher than the one in OH and I could crawl a little easier but once it got too low, I rolled.  And that always makes me SO dizzy...and so sick.  Still feeling pretty good. I wasn't soaked to the bone and freezing yet.  My hands were pretty wet and starting to feel cold but that was it. I think that there were a few walls after that point.  I helped Emelyn up and then I got a hand from other folks.  One cool thing about Spartan racers is that they are totally willing to help one another but will let you have the chance to try it yourself first.  I don't remember all the obstacles but I do remember the cargo net in the middle of the run.  We walked up to a straight cliff and I know that I didn't see the net at first and I was like, "Holy &*% ....how the....?" Oh wait, there's a cargo net.  Emelyn and I started up but there was a lady who was really nervous about going up.  Who knows if it was a height issue or feeling unstable on the net but she wasn't having it.  Her friends had gone up first and she was at the bottom.  Emelyn got behind her and I was beside her and we encouraged her up that net.  She was super excited to get to the top.  Somewhere in the next few miles included a bucket brigade, spear throw (30 more burpees!), and more.  When I got to the dunk wall, that water was so so cold.  It was the first time I was going to get my head wet.  As I jumped in and made my way to the wall, I had a hard time gathering myself to go under the wall.  Once I did, it totally took my breath away....actually took my breath away.  But I also had water in my eyes and didn't have anything clean to them off with and walked around blind for a few seconds until I took the inside of my shirt and wiped my face.  Once I opened my eyes, my contacts were actually fogged up!  That's cold man!  As someone else said, "Now this shit is real!"  Soon after the dunk wall was the rope climb (made it higher than last time! I've got to practice this!)....30 more burpees.  I think that the slip wall was next...no issues.  After that we ran back into the woods, away from the mainstand area.  You know you're close to the end but not too close and now it's all down to grit.
What is grit?  According to wikipedia it's, "psychology is a positive, non-cognitive trait based on an individual's passion for a particular long-term goal or end state, coupled with a powerful motivation to achieve their respective objective."  This is where I started my mantra of embrace the suck.  This was turning into a mind numbing part of the race.  You know it sucks, it hurts, you're cold and you could moan and complain and focus on what's cold/hurting OR you could completely embrace that, of course, this isn't the most desirable situation but you're going to go into it with the best attitude you can muster and tackle the challenges head on, as best you can, and get through it...and smile through it (try it, it works!)  You're sliding down hills, carrying a 20 pound sand bag through a never ending creek that's full of pot holes, your feet feel like concrete weights that hurt with every step, but the faster you do the obstacles and the faster you run, the quicker you get to the other side...in this case, the finish line.  Sometimes in life we need to embrace the suck.  While we won't know the finish line like you'll know during a race, it still helps to embrace the situation and tackle it head on with the best attitude possible.  

I didn't feel the full effect of the cold until Emelyn and I hit the finish line (we raced across!).  After we crossed and they gave us our medals, shirts, bananas, and fit aid, I started to shake.  I couldn't wait to get warm clothes on.  I tried to rinse off but couldn't and just went in to the tent to change.  I could tell that mild hypothermia was setting in because cognitive function was not so good....Emelyn can attest to that. ;-) haha  After getting dry clothes on (but unfortunately I had brought sandals to wear back to the car....my feet were not in good shape by the time we got back!) we went into the med tent to get blankets and try to warm up some.  After 10 minutes there, we had to walk the MILE back to the car.  My feet were hurting so bad...it was still raining...but finally....we get back to the truck.  First step, warm truck up!  Second step, dry feet and put them into some warm socks.  We waited there for a while to warm up and process everything.  Despite the frigidness of the day though, it was a great race!  I ran it MUCH faster than my first one (1 hr 55 min), I did 1 less set of burpees, and even though I still failed a few obstacles, I got farther on them.  It was after this race that I decided to pursue a trifecta in 2017.  That means that I will attempt to run and complete each of Spartans race distances-sprint (3-5 miles), super (8-10 miles), and beast (12-14 miles). I have committed to the Colorado weekend in May over Mother's Day-a super on Saturday and the sprint on Sunday (I'm going to be in a world of hurt!) and then the beast in Central Florida in December.  Aroo!

Volleyball and Fall

Oh my goodness...the end of October is here and I can't believe it.  Summer camp ended the second week of August and we seamlessly flowed right into volleyball (like the Monday after).  I coached a 7th grade team out of Carroll.  They were pretty fun group of girls.  This was my 3rd year of coaching.  The first year I coached a 6th grade team out of Delphi.  Those girls knew nothing and at least we won a game during our season! ;-) After that season, I got "recruited" by the head coach at Carroll to come coach his 8th grade team that, in his words, would be lucky to win a game.  They weren't the most talented of teams but there wasn't much drama and they had pretty good attitudes.  So between those two teams, we had 5 wins and an unknown number of losses.  I shifted down to 7th grade this season and I had a group of kids who had played some club ball and had talent.  They were also probably some of the squirreliest kids too.  Lots of head shaking, shoulder shrugging, and times I just went, "I don't know" went right along with times of great joy and pride in how they handled tough situations.  7th grade is definitely a hard time in life.  It was definitely one of the hardest years of my life growing up.  Kids are trying to find themselves, handle their peers, handle disappointment and challenges.  I had to bench some players, deal with some poor attitudes, and handle parents who were, well, interesting.  But despite all of that we did well!  We won 2 tournaments and ended up 15-2 on the season.  It was a long season, lasting till the middle of October.  There were games we cruised to victory, ones we eeked out despite playing poorly, and then those 2 pesky games where we were simply outplayed by better, much taller, kids.  And boy was I glad when it was over.

Unfortunately throughout most of this fall I was dealing with being sick for a majority of the time.  Right after labor day up until a week or so ago I was dealing with a persistent cough.  First I started off feeling fine and just had dry coughing fits now and then until a week or two later I was really starting to feel the strain of it.  Being woke up in the middle of the night, coughing so hard my ribs hurt, and just feeling poorly until finally after a month of this I went to urgent care, was diagnosed with tracheobronchitis, and given a host of medicines and an inhaler to deal with the wheezing.  I tried to hide not feeling well from others.  I tried to not complain about it via facebook or anything else.  But due to not feeling or sleeping well, I found myself being, well, quite pissy about anything and everything and wanting everyone to leave me alone, not by telling them but by not being in a good mood.  And I didn't want to fake being in a good mood either.  I was content being in a bad mood because I felt bad.  But the whole point of this is not about what I just said, but that I had the realization midway through this that 1) there are people out there who are feeling much worse and for much longer 2) their illness wasn't guaranteed to go away and 3) their attitude was much better than mine.  Could I have their same attitude in their situation?  I don't know really.  I'm thankful now to feel much better (minus the ribs...no confirmation but I wouldn't be surprised if one had been cracked from the force of the coughing).  I'm thankful to be able to run now after not doing so since early September.  I'm thankful for health and strength.  I hope if the situation were to ever arise, and I surely hope it doesn't, that my attitude would be so much better, so much more positive, and with much less grumpiness.  My situation was no where near what some people go through for months and years.  So lesson learned.  I got it.  Glad it's over.  :-P  Now to enjoy my favorite season of the year!!!

The Empty Finger

Now before I go too far down this road, let it be known that this is not supposed to be taken as complaining or a pity party...just thoughts and feelings....

The empty finger?  Which finger is that?  It's the ring finger that is as bare as the day I was born 36 years ago.  Most of the time I'm content to be single, to be free to take off at any moment, to be there for others when they need it.  Sometimes though, I think it'd be so nice to have someone by my side to enjoy this life with.  To go on a trip and have a companion to enjoy the time with.  That has been on my mind recently.  I had the opportunity to be able to take off for a few days this week but I chose not to.  I had a few places I wanted to go but I didn't want to go solo this time.  I've been on many a trip solo and thoroughly enjoyed myself-Traverse City, Anaheim, and several national parks. As much as I enjoyed those trips, I found myself, from time to time, wanting to turn to the side and say, "Hey, how beautiful is that?" But there was no one there.  Those times were great as they allowed me to reboot and get away and get refreshed.  But this time, I chose to not go anywhere.  To stay home, sleep, and do nothing while here.  That however has been nice in its own right. ;-)

Singleness is both a gift and a burden.  I love being single but there are times, occasionally, that I wish I weren't.  That there was someone to share this crazy ride call life with.  I know that being in a relationship is hard...it's not easy....it requires selflessness, time, work, dedication, and more work. Being single, you don't have to worry about any of that.  I can choose to do something...and I can choose not to...something that's not a guarantee with someone else in the picture. At this point, I don't know if there will ever be someone to share this ride with and the choice to be content is a daily one, although I'm human and it doesn't mean I can have wishes of my own.  As co-workers announce pregnancies and engagements, I honestly find it hard to wish them congratulations because it's a reminder.  It's not that I'm not happy for them, but it's a vivid reminder of what I don't have.  Here's my announcement...nothing's changed.  I'm still single and solo.   Just thought you might want to know.  ;-) For now I guess I'll continue to be a 3rd wheel with my married friends.