Don't worry. Be happy.

I write solely on inspiration.  If it hits, I write.  If it doesn't, there is a looonnnngggg gap of time between posts.  Plus lately my passions have been lured over to my other more serious blog.  Warning:  if you go there, you will see another side of me.  It may not be pretty.

So back to running ..... here's the thing.  Other than my Marathon Year, the annual highlight of my summer is the Hood to Coast relay and it is now less than three days away.  This week, one and two years ago, I was in serious need of therapy, anti-anxiety meds, and/or someone's strong hand to grip.  I was the team captain, desperately keeping my mental boat afloat.  Being cursed with the need for perfectness ..... I typically drove myself close to The Edge, with worries and last minute details.  You may recall this and this post.

However this year ..... I just came off the whirlwind of Favorite 2nd Son's very recent wedding, shown in Favorite Daughter's blog.  Involved were visiting relatives, lots of sewing, luncheon planning/managing, cleaning, and cooking, cooking, cooking.  Details were stuffed into, and falling out of my brain and I had lists written on many scraps of paper.  It all turned out to be a wonderfully beautiful (and exhausting!) event and this family totally SCORED with a perfect and beloved new daughter-in-law.  And it completely overshadowed the Hood to Coast.

PLUS as I have said recently, I am not team captain this year!  Have you heard that enough times yet??  And the wedding is DONE.   AHHHH ..... do you feel the serenity  ..... the calm ..... the lack of concern for this weekend?  Yes, there are still a few unaddressed HTC details, but whatever .....

I've done my training, finishing with an easy three miles yesterday, and am in full taper-mode until Friday at about 8:00 a.m. ... when I begin my first leg.

No problem!  All is good.  Rest, sleep, eat carbs .....  don't worry .... be happy.

Freedom ain't free, Part 2

This is a follow-up of a previous post.  No need to provide a link; just scroll down a bit.

In my not-young age, I am free to run 5+ miles non-stop.  T'was not always so.  And that freedom came at a price.  It takes work, darn it.  I have to give up an hour or more, several days a week, and go out into the cold, or the heat, or the wind, or the drizzle, ... and run.   Alone.   Most of the  ... Pretty much ALL of the time, I don't want to. And too bad if I wake up to a good hair day.  After the run, the hair is toast and demands a complete do-over.

There is a saying that speaks to me nearly every morning: "If you started running when you first thought about it, you'd be done by now."  I get up from THE Most Comfortable Bed, put on my running clothes, and if I can get myself out the door within the next hour, it's a good start.  I'm a shameless procrastinator, letting the minutes slip by while I dink around on the computer.   Once I remember walking RIGHT PAST my laptop as I headed to the door.  I actually ran BEFORE going online!  ONCE!  And for me, the BEST part of a run is after it's over.

There are plenty of runners, or cyclists, or swimmers, etc., who make me look whiny and lazy.  One friend, a mommy of toddlers, runs in the early morning darkness (while I'm still in my Most Comfortable Bed) before her husband goes to work.   And sometimes she has to run, not only in the dark, but in the cold and rain.  And she does it.  As a result, she was free to experience the heady fun of running in her first relay this summer.  It's this kind of diligence, that says "marathon" in her future.  Not many are willing to pay the price for the freedom to do that.

So essentially, it means giving up something significant, for something better.  This principle is true on so many levels.  From the price of skipping some calories during the day, so as to have semi-guilt-free ice cream that evening ...To the sacrifices of our hallowed military for the freedom to live as our Founding Fathers intended.

Most freedoms don't come cheaply.  But the reward is so worth it.  And my next reward is just three short weeks away, when the BEST team of 2012 (which will include Diligent Friend mentioned above, plus Favorite Daughter, and a bunch of other cool people) returns to the ....

... drum roll .....

Hood to Coast!  AKA The Mother of ALL Relays!

YES!  And did I tell you that I'm NOT team caption??

Dedicated to slow teams

In a relay, a fast team is awesome to behold.  You know those teams.  They're comprised of actual athletes, all 20-something in age, and not an ounce of fat to be seen.  In their sport, they are focused and determined to win.  And not just determined, they're confident.  They're tanned and ripped and they sail silently past the rest of us as if we were not even there.    Some of their teams even require qualifying times and are the teams from which the rest of us have no hope of ever receiving an invitation.

That is not my world.

The teams in which I have ran, are not fast.  Oh, we've had our fast runners to be sure.  I want to give full credit to Mark, Ben, Anne, Ricky, and others who have patiently added their low-minute miles to our team's average time and put up with the ultra-early starting times to which slower teams are typically assigned.

I prefer a slower team.  Slow teams have more fun .... in my opinion.  Reasons:  Less pressure.  In fact, as far as the rest of the team is concerned, the only pressure is what each of us put on ourselves.  We know we won't win, so there's no disappointment when we don't.  When assembling a team, we don't look for highly skilled runners.  We look for fun people who run.  The kind of people with whom we won't mind spending 30+ hours in a crowded van.

But the main reason I prefer slower teams is that on those teams, miracles happen.

Remember this post about my 2nd Hood to Coast?  That was the Year of Amy.  She was new to running yet agreed to join her husband on our team, worried about it all year, then ran all of her legs from beginning to end without walking.  She DID it.  She faced her personal beast and KILLED it.  Her words at the end:  "I never knew what I could do.  Now I know."

Last month was the Epic Relay.  We were so slow that our last six legs had to be run simultaneously so that the finish-line party would still be happening by the time we got there.  That was the Year of Carrie.

Carrie had always been athletic, but was new to running.  She was so scared, but agreed to take on some of the most difficult legs of the route.  Her first leg was brutal with long uphills, and she said that when she finally saw the exchange up ahead and realized SHE HAD DONE IT, she almost cried.  The rest of her legs she ATTACKED like a warrior.   Carrie defined herself as a runner in that relay.

It was also the Year of Ellen who, over the past year, had diligently lost a great deal of weight, and became something she never used to think was possible.

And also the Year of Anna, who also overcame personal fears and limitations and showed herself what she could do.

I could say the same for Val, Justin, Anne, Dave, Chery,  and others.  People who may not have been the fastest at first.  People who didn't dare call themselves runners ... at first.  But after being invited into a team, doing their part, and running their legs -- they personally allowed themselves to own the title.

When teams take a chance on beginners, lives are changed.  Beginners who, although terrified, accept the invitation and the challenge, then DO IT.  They prove what they can do to their biggest critic -- themselves.

That was me once.  I remember the fear, the intimidation, and the complete lack of confidence.  I still feel it a little.  That first year when I was actually invited on a real team with real runners -- was the year MY life was changed.  It was the Year of Me.

Hooray for the slow teams!  Sometimes their hurdles are the hardest of all.