RunSingTeach

I love when a local running community has a “must-do” race of the year. The Annapolis 10-miler was my must do for a long time. I only ran Peachtree once, but I imagine if I’d gotten closer connected in ATL it would’ve been a repeat. PDR in Philly is always a fave, especially now that it’s back to being PDR. And then the hidden gems like Pike’s Peek, Riley’s Rumble, AFC in San Diego, or the Austin 8k.

Last year, I’d lived in Charlotte for 7 weeks when I did Around the Crown 10k. I had nary run a single step since the Baltimore Ten Miler that previous June, but it seemed like “the race people did”, so off I went, and I got my butt kicked. I had no idea what to expect, and that Queen’s Climb was a deeply humbling experience. It was the start of what I thought might be the end of running. (See previous post!)

This year, I loosely trained, focusing on just getting going, having a regular running practice. My longest run was 5.23 miles and my highest mileage week was 12. Memories of 40-50 mile training weeks sit dormant. I made it through the summer uninjured, and had a strong 5k the weekend prior so I made a game time decision. Rather than maintaining 3:15/:45 walk intervals, I would run as much as I could knowing full well I would walk at least a portion of the deceptive Queen of 277.

I positioned myself between the 70 and 75 minute pacers. My mental math and, perhaps, my ability to be a game-day player had me thinking I could beat my 2023 time of 1:15. (Small aside: in the past I would have been embarrassed to put that sort of time for a 10k…my long ago PR is 42ish…but I honor now that this is where I am and that’s ok.)

The first mile was good, the density of the pack meant I had to stay the course geometry while getting passed by the excited, ambitious, and tardy to the start line, but that was fine. Entering the highway, it was delightful to see the hoard of runners storming forth. I did not witness the wild car accident on the other side of the highway but prayed for those involved passing the aftermath while heading out on tricky part of the course. I say tricky because it’s hard to make a plan and stick with it as the road surface shifts from concrete to asphalt, and often has hip imbalancing pitches that make it tough to find a sweet spot. I tried to stay steady until the climb began as the humidity and full sun started to create just an amazing shower of liquid awesome off my arms and head.

The climb came-I kept good form, and finally succumbed to the rise in the pavement with a walk break. Those who’ve run with me on intervals know I don’t lollygag when walking-no prancercise here-we are full on trucking as we give the impact a break. Once I reached the top, it was time to get back to a steady pace, and coming off the loop was a gift. Back to the Uptown streets.

By mile five, I was feeling pretty good, less the screaming back that is normal since the GBHI.* Coming around Fourth Ward, we had a small climb that I decided to give myself :45 to relieve the impact and bring down the HR. Once I did, I was able to create a steadiness. By about 5.75, I was ready to mentally count laps on the track and uptick a bit. I don’t love the rise by BoA Stadium, because that last left turn had me pumped to finish. A proper leg turnover in the last 100 was nice.

I ended up taking almost 8 minutes off from the previous summer and was about a min/mile faster. My splits were a hot mess, and it will take some time to get back to my old nickname of metronome, but overall I was thrilled. It was a GIFT to see friends at the finish to celebrate with and share fellowship. All in all, it was a perfect kickoff for what I hope is a nice autumn of one foot after another. Onward.

*Great Bounce House Incident of 2022.

First, I acknowledge that I haven’t blogged on this site since 2018. It was pre-pandemic when my household had two fur children, and we were headed from Montgomery to Atlanta. So much has happened in the six years since. Three states (GA, MD, and now NC), three schools, two choir participations, lots of life experiences, and now settling in after a year in Charlotte…. Last week, I read a stunning personal narrative that made me go down a rabbit hole of my former posts and reminded me how much I love writing about life…so here I go…

I’ve been running a bit more lately. Last weekend was the longest I’ve run in a year, and it was a whopping 5.23 miles. I was incredibly intimidated by the 200+ runners at the local club run, and my social anxiety was on full tilt. But then I started running. It was a beautiful creekside trail. Like most runs in the last year, I was by myself–not many folks run as slow as I do or do a run/walk in the hopes of preventing yet another injury–but there were many people and no way to get lost. I settled into a pace, listening to an audiobook, which at one point made me laugh so hard I had to pause. My goal was simple, get to five miles. I saw ahead a water stop, and even though it would’ve put me slightly over 2.5, I kept going. It was such a gift to see a running acquaintance there and be able to connect before traversing back.

For about fifteen years, running was my everything. My social circle, my focused practice, where I spent my time and energy. I was a runner, running coach, and running supporter, and most of my friends were running people. I even ran fairly quick for a while. But more than anything, I ran long. So much of my self-worth was wrapped up into my running.

So, about ten years ago, when the bottom dropped out of the world, my running changed. I became inconsistent and injured. I coached a little while and tried running long still, but I just lost it piece by piece. And I lost a huge part of myself in the process. While I was trying to figure out who I was as Sarah as supposed to Sarah & Ken, I grew deeper into a hole of physical decline. The loops of “plan run-don’t show up (for lots of reasons)-feel guilty” became more frequent and fierce. When I reached Charlotte a year ago, I recognized the pattern and how it was harming my sense of self. So, I completely stopped running for six months. I didn’t try; I didn’t plan. I didn’t put running on the calendar and then not show up. I just didn’t. I took the many months to consider who I am with and without running. I am many things: a teacher, a student, a reader, a dog-mom, an aunt, a chorister, a Wingnut, an Episco-nerd, and I am a runner. I finally wanted to be a runner again.

Then summer came when the life of an administrator became just a bit more civilized. I could join up for the 6:15 run and still safely make it to work by 8. (A luxurious hour later than the school year.) I remained very clear that my primary goal was to show up and start. My secondary goal was to keep from getting injured. (I honor that my current physical size and continued challenges with the great bounce house back injury of 2022* have a huge impact here.) So I set the goal. Six coffee runs in three weeks before the schedule changed. And I made it. I actually squeaked out seven. People were generous with their welcome and Strava likes. My introversion + social anxiety + Enneagram 5 + general weirdness make it so hard for me to connect sometimes, but runners are amazing people.

I started at the back of the pack on Saturday, and because I was running shorter than most, I turned around and was pretty much done before the main packs came home. But that was fine. The win was the showing up. The win was what I needed to keep reminding me that it is a molasses-slow road back, but I have the strength and know-how to get there. Thank you to everyone who has seen me, the real me, on this wild and wonderful journey on the pavement and beyond. Let’s go run.

*this is a fun, over-coffee story. 10/10 don’t recommend this injury.

So my heat has been out for two days and I woke up to 47 degrees in my house this am. I hermited all day yesterday with the boys hoping it would come on. I fell into an emotional hole. We went over to work for a few hours to enjoy the heat, run the empty halls, and actually get a little done. I also had a meltdown with sister. (Thank you for listening, sister.) I came home with the realization I had to pack up for a few days. (My landlord is sending us to a hotel until it’s fixed.)

I’m sitting here for a few minutes, in full on parka, packed and ready for our 3pm check in. And it hit me. I’m already breaking my one goal of 2018….to be grateful. To express gratitude and focus on joy rather than pain. Oh goodness, an inauspicious start, indeed.

So, in the midst of my pity party….

I’m grateful that I have a home. It is quirky and has issues with heating and cooling but it has room for my boys to run and has character.

I’m grateful that I have friends who have reached out offering numbers for repair folks, space heaters, and a place in their home.

I’m grateful for my warm clothes and blankets and my north face beanie which hasn’t left my head in three days.

I’m grateful for my fur babies who don’t seem to care that it is either 47 inside or 25 outside. They are lovey and sweet.

This inconvenience is temporary. And it’s a first world problem, for sure. So my grumbling is over for today.

Onward.

Our kids left for winter break this morning at 9:30 and our offices close at 1pm. Two whole weeks to rest, renew, and re-engage with sleep, a clean house, and quality time with those I love the most in the world. These breaks are so necessary in this line of work. Our work is mental and physical. We put all of ourselves into our work each day and spend school year months out of balance–break offers us time to reset.

I am purposely not putting anything on the calendar for three days of my break. I want these days to be completely unaccounted for in the scheme of time. It might mean pajamas or it might mean a hike with my boys in the woods, who knows? I need that time to just be.

And…I know that if I don’t put any structure in my two week time that I will feel anxious come January 1st. So there will be some planning and a few goals. Here they are:

• Move every day. I’m still in healing mode from a stress fracture and torn gastroc and running is still pretty much non-existent. Moving every day is KEY.
• Declutter. I do this every holiday and truly enjoy it. (Now I must actually get the bags OUT of the car and to the goodwill.)
• Put down my phone, turn off the screens and read. (Finish The Miseducation of Cameron Post and Barbarian Daysfor sure and then see what jumps off the stack.)
• Practice my ukelele.

Those seem pretty do-able and realistic. But rest. Rest will win the day.

Also, some wisdom and peace from Sara Teasdale:

Last night in our small group, we lingered for a while on the subject of hearing and following God’s call. I listened and did not share. I did not share not just because I am the new one to this group or because I am definitely the most theologically and socially liberal in the group, but because I am in such a period of discernment these days I’m not even sure how to use words to describe it. I was texting with the best mom ever yesterday and  I said, “I just want to lay roots.” And she said, “you were laying roots when it was sadly taken away.” This is a true point. When the world collapses around you and when you lose your earthly anchor, where do you turn? What comes next? I cannot go back to the trajectory that I was on because the partner on that journey is no longer here. I can move forward vocationally, physically, and spiritually, but so much of what I thought was the “plan” just doesn’t exist on earth.

Fact of the matter is, I have moved forward. I have tried so very hard to hear the “what’s next” from God. I am comfortable in being alone-eating alone in public, going to the movies and concerts, traveling…but this comfort does not prevent loneliness. That longing to be emotionally connected to others. I am so blessed to have a wide network of friends and family with whom I have these connections. And, they 100% live at least a one day’s drive away. While facetime and google make visual connections possible, it simply isn’t the same. How do you rebuild close connections in a place that seems content to keep things as they are and doesn’t seem to have room for an outsider?

How also, do you really move forward with trust that God’s timing and God’s call is the best? I don’t think it is wrong to feel sad or mad or frustrated by the state of things. Some might say that isn’t being true to God but I think it is honoring the range of emotions that we have been given as humans. The key is to move forward even in the midst of the sadness or anger. To not allow discernment to cause stagnation. And as I have said a million times, if God could just shout instead of using the still small voice, that would be awesome.

So what comes next? I do not know, but I know that many have walked into that unknown before me with confidence. Daniel and the boys did not know if they would be delivered from the fiery furnace but instead chose to stand firm against idols (Daniel 3.) Ruth did not know what to expect when losing her husband and staying with her mother-in-law, Naomi, but she pressed on (Ruth 1.) So press on it is…a step in faith that it “all” will make sense at some point. I will know where and how to lay roots because I am rooted in the One who makes all things new, heals the broken hearted, and sets the captives free.

It is December 31, 2016 which means people are wrapping up after a long 365 days and starting fresh plans. I have monumentally failed at every reading list challenge I’ve taken on in the last few years but I still make a list! This doesn’t mean I haven’t read abundantly, it just means I get distracted. I found a great and long list of categories to consider for 2017. I changed two categories and deleted one but I’ve spent the morning finding 49 books that I hope to tackle in 2017. Some will be easier than others and some will likely find their way to the bottom of the stack. Some will be replaced as our book club tackles other titles but I’d like to set the goal of NOT buying books for at least the first six months of 2017 so all of these books except for two are in my current stacks. (Anyone wanna be an accountability partner here?) This list has some things out of my comfort zone, some deep thinkers, some fluff, and I hope to immerse in the pages as a new year wanders forward.

Here’s the list:

A book with more than 500 pages: The Innovators (Walter Isaacson)
a classic romance: Persuasion (Jane Austen) (ugh…I’ll try again.)
a book that became a movie:  Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children (Ransom Riggs)
a book published this year: The Underground Railroad (Colson Whitehead)
a book with a number in the title: 13 Gifts (Wendy Mass)
a book written by someone under 30: The Opposite of Loneliness (Marina Keegan)
a book with nonhuman characters: A Dog’s Purpose (W. Bruce Cameron)
a funny book: Choose Your Own Autobiography (Neil Patrick Harris)
a book by a female author: Americanah (Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie)
a mystery or thriller: The Ocean at the End of the Lane (Neil Gaiman)
a book with a one word title: Lit (Mary Karr)
a book of short stories: The Short Stories of Ernest Hemingway
a book set in a different country: Everyone Brave is Forgiven (Chris Cleve)
a nonfiction book: Just Mercy (Bryan Stevenson)
a popular author’s first book: About Grace (Anthony Doerr)
a book from an author you love that you haven’t read yet: Close Your Eyes, Hold Hands (Chris Bohjalian)
a book a friend recommended: My Summer of Southern Discomfort (Stephanie Gayle)
a pulitzer prize winning book: Middlesex (Jeffrey Eugenides)
a book based on a true story: Caleb’s Crossing (Geraldine Brooks)
a book at the bottom of your to-read list: Plenty Ladylike (Claire McCaskill)
a book you mom loves: Return of the Native (Thomas Hardy)
a book that scares you: Atlas Shrugged (Ayn Rand)
a book more than 100 years old: Heart of Darkness (Joseph Conrad)
a book based entirely on its cover: On Such a Full Sea (Chang-Rae Lee)
a book you were supposed to read in school but didn’t: Invisible Man (Ralph Ellison)
A memoir: Barbarian Days A Surfing Life (William Finnegan)
A book you can finish in a day: Auggie & Me (RJ Palacio)
A book with antonyms in the title: A Crooked Kind of Perfect (Linda Urban)
A book set in a place you’ve always wanted to visit: The Vacationers (Emma Straub)
A book that came out the year you were born: The Enormous Crocodile (Roald Dahl)
A book with bad reviews: Brave New World (Aldous Huxley)
A trilogy: Chaos Walking Trilogy (Patrick Ness)
A book from your childhood: A Wrinkle in Time (Madeline L’Engle)
A book with a love triangle: Far from the Madding Crowd (Thomas Hardy)
A book set in the future: Ready Player One (Ernest Cline)
A book set in high school: A Separate Peace (John Knowles)
A book with a color in the title: Seeing Red (Kathryn Erskine)
A book that made you cry: Watership Down (Richard Adams) (they say it’s going to make me cry)
A book with magic: The Golem and the Jinni (Helene Wecker)
A graphic novel: Fun Home (Alison Bechtel)
A book by an author you’ve never read before: Mosquitoland (David Arnold)
A book you own but have never read: The Handmaid’s Tale (Margaret Atwood)
A book that takes place in your hometown: A Blue Spool of Thread (Anne Tyler) (no books are set in my hometown, Severna Park, so I chose Baltimore.)
A book that was originally written in another language: The Reason I Jump (Naoki Higashida)
A book written by an author with your same initials: Flame & Shadow (Sara Teasdale)
a book of inspiration: No Mud, No Lotus (Thich Nhat Hanh)
A banned book: The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian (Sherman Alexie)
A book based on or turned into a TV show: The Magicians (Lev Grossman)
A book you started but never finished: Killing Lincoln (Bill O’Reilly)

What’s on your list for 2017?

I’m sitting in our sweet, little regional airport waiting to take a quick trip home. The coffee from the local shop is adequate at best but they are winning the morning by having  espn college gameday on the big screen. I am perpetually early for flights and this makes the wait enjoyable. 

While watching Kirk and Rece and Coach, the word of the day came to me: spin. 

How often to we watch commentators and coaches spin the story to highlight their side or preference? How often do we hear political commentators and professional spinners move the story to their side? Sometimes the spin is so fierce it leaves me dizzy and disconcerted. Where do we go to escape the noise and find balance? 

Turn it off. Open a novel. Get outside. Snuggle the dog. Run in the sun. Drink a beer on the back porch. Have dinner with a friend and absolutely no electronics present. Sleep an extra hour. Write down prayers. Breathe deeply and be content with the world passing by for a while.

The world will keep spinning even if we take a break from it. In our constant spinning world, we will not miss as much as we think we will. 

Need some inspiration to escape the spin? Check out today’s gameday tear fest: http://www.espn.com/video/clip?id=17974494

Also……

^“And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?” Luke 12:25, nrsv

Worry-wart. Nervous-nelly. Anxiety-girl. All terms that fit my personality quite well. My desire to please and to get things right can lead me to undue worry. About outcomes, about perceptions, about responses. And yet, as I get older I realize that all of this worry is completely for naught.

Some worry-fight or flight reflex in actual danger situations-is so very important. If I’m being chased by a bear, I want the worry chemicals to kick in. But, in most situations, worry will only cause unnecessary energy outputs to a situation.

We are currently in a significant uptick of worry as a nation. It has become, in the words of the New York Times, an epidemic. My family and friends feel this as the election looms eight days away. I feel this workplace as we navigate the waters of change. I feel this in my time as I want to give my all to all the things.

But, we are reminded both in Luke and Matthew’s Gospel that worrying adds nothing to our lives. No value. No time. So I must fight the tide of worry and focus rationally on important tasks at hand, one breath at a time. Care to join me? Let’s consider the lilies together.

I am rarely bored. My mind, alas, swirls a mile a minute from the time I am awake to the time the melatonin kicks in at night. I am, for better or worse, connected for all of my waking hours. However, as a child, I was not connected. We had cable, but were one of the last families to get nintendo. I played Oregon Trail and Carmen San Diego on the big IBM computer with the floppy disk, but not all day.

I had the chance to spend hours outside in the creek behind our house or at a friend’s house. In my teen years, we would walk around downtown Annapolis without a cell phone or hang out at the beach in my neighborhood without wifi. (Wifi didn’t exist.) We had the chance to be bored. I didn’t go to a lot of summer camps so after swim team each day, I would have to make my own fun.

In our 24/7 connected world, our kids don’t know how to be bored very well. It can be scary for them to be left to their own without the security of electronics or someone telling them how to make their fun. We know they need the boredom to be creative. Not just from common sense, but most recently from this study published by the World Economic Forum. So what do we do when a connected kid says, I’m bored? We should treat it as a gift. We should say something like, “wow, that’s so great that you don’t have something specific to do, imagine all the things you could do.” And then, walk away. Allow kids to sit with their own boredom and figure it out.

I love this list that I’ve seen on many a blog. It doesn’t have to just mean in the summer. Boredom can strike us at any time–if we have the control to challenge ourselves and embrace, oh the things we could think, do, create, and learn. Time to get bored, friends…

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