The first 5K I did as an adult was The Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure. I signed up for many reasons, but the main reason was to honor my grandmother who was a survivor of breast cancer. I remembered her struggle and strength. The RFTC was a great way to take action and feel like I was doing my part to combat the disease that afflicted my grandmother.
Years later, again I decided to embark on a journey in honor of this cause and signed up for Komen's Breast Cancer 3 Day. A three day walk of a total 60 miles, this journey would not prove to be easy. However, I was empowered by the feeling that I was doing something to fight the horrible disease of breast cancer. The spirit of the walkers and crew was amazing! It was if in we were in a bubble within the world where people were united and we really did treat our neighbors as ourselves.
Thinking of what got me started in racing, I decided a few weeks ago that the Ironman experience would be so much more meaningful if I did for a cause. Being an attorney who is devoted to child welfare issues, choosing my charity was easy. The Children's Law Center in Washington, DC, is THE source when it comes to advocating for children in the District. The CLC employs attorneys and staff with the simple but noble goal of protecting DC's children. I have followed the CLC since I was in my first year of law school and cannot think of a greater place to raise funds and awareness for. I am really, really excited to part of their team for now!
Watch for fundraising events and follow my progress at www.mktris.webs.com. Also, you can make a donation by going to
http://www.januscharitychallenge.org and clicking on "How to Donate."
Thank you for all your support!!!
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Monday, April 19, 2010
The Impetus
I spend my weekends at a shoe store. Well, we sell shoes, but it's not just any shoe store. It is one where dreams literally do come true. People walk into that store in every shade of life you can find. Young, old, fast, slow. Most are somewhere in the middle and just trying to be healthy. Many people come simply to replace their old shoes, the ones they've loved for miles but are ready to retire. Others come because they have received a prescription from their doctor saying, "go to them, they will help." Still others wander in just because it's there. We welcome all and take all. Whatever the need, the store usually has something to provide.
When I found my way to this store about a year and a half ago, I was down. I mean really down. Unemployed, overeducated, and with little "career" prospects headed my way, I had gone to the classifieds to find seasonal work. Thankfully, they took a chance on me and I on them.
It was in this store where I learned some of life's most important lessons. Lessons about hard work, determination, and finding a way to sometimes just let it be. It became more than a job to me, it was a community, a network, and a family. Some of the best people to walk the Earth can often be found within that store.
Getting this job at this running store was one of the best things to ever happen to me. It was a situation that I never wanted. I wanted to be a lawyer, using my degrees, and out in the "real" world. But, in the end, being there did more to shape me into who I am than many other "professional" experiences I have had.
It really is funny the way life works. Did I move from to Washington, DC, to work at a shoe store? Nope. But, would I have if I had known then what I do now? In a heart beat. Unfortunately, it took me a year of being in DC to stumble onto this place. Only in this space and time, did I really dare to open the doors to myself. And only under these circumstances did I decide to push myself to the physical limit and dream of the Ironman.
If not for this store, would I have set out on this journey I am on? Probably not. But, like I said, this store is a place where dreams come true.
When I found my way to this store about a year and a half ago, I was down. I mean really down. Unemployed, overeducated, and with little "career" prospects headed my way, I had gone to the classifieds to find seasonal work. Thankfully, they took a chance on me and I on them.
It was in this store where I learned some of life's most important lessons. Lessons about hard work, determination, and finding a way to sometimes just let it be. It became more than a job to me, it was a community, a network, and a family. Some of the best people to walk the Earth can often be found within that store.
Getting this job at this running store was one of the best things to ever happen to me. It was a situation that I never wanted. I wanted to be a lawyer, using my degrees, and out in the "real" world. But, in the end, being there did more to shape me into who I am than many other "professional" experiences I have had.
It really is funny the way life works. Did I move from to Washington, DC, to work at a shoe store? Nope. But, would I have if I had known then what I do now? In a heart beat. Unfortunately, it took me a year of being in DC to stumble onto this place. Only in this space and time, did I really dare to open the doors to myself. And only under these circumstances did I decide to push myself to the physical limit and dream of the Ironman.
If not for this store, would I have set out on this journey I am on? Probably not. But, like I said, this store is a place where dreams come true.
Week 18
April 19, 2010
Today is the first day of week 18 of our 36 week training plan. By this time next week, we will be half way there. Do I feel half way there? No. Am I telling myself that I am? Yes.
This weekend was a turning point for me. There was a moment where I really knew within my heart of hearts that my goal is one I can obtain. It was on a five mile run that completed my four hour brick. A brick is when you do two disciplines in a row; so swim, then bike; bike, then run; etc.
On the run, I had a moment where I felt in my bones that I would finish this race. It was going to be rough, long, and the hardest thing I've ever done. But, for a moment, I believed I would finish.
Hopefully, the belief made a connection in my brain and the seed only grows stronger as time goes on. Either way, in 18 weeks, I'll set out on my 17 hour race that I've spent thousands of hours working towards.
Today is the first day of week 18 of our 36 week training plan. By this time next week, we will be half way there. Do I feel half way there? No. Am I telling myself that I am? Yes.
This weekend was a turning point for me. There was a moment where I really knew within my heart of hearts that my goal is one I can obtain. It was on a five mile run that completed my four hour brick. A brick is when you do two disciplines in a row; so swim, then bike; bike, then run; etc.
On the run, I had a moment where I felt in my bones that I would finish this race. It was going to be rough, long, and the hardest thing I've ever done. But, for a moment, I believed I would finish.
Hopefully, the belief made a connection in my brain and the seed only grows stronger as time goes on. Either way, in 18 weeks, I'll set out on my 17 hour race that I've spent thousands of hours working towards.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Back in the Game
Sunday was the first time I have run more than five miles since the day of my worst decision ever. Almost six months ago, I did a marathon. I had an amzing time in the destination city, I had an amzing race, and I was so happy to finally run a marathon. So happy, in fact, that I figured why not do another one a couple weeks later?
A bib came across my lap, and I simply could not resist. I went into the Marine Corps Marathon thinking, "You can do this, you just did one, don't push yourself, but get to the finish line." After the first mile, my knees felt as if I'd already done ten. Mile eight and a sharp downhill forced my knees to buckle under pressure they weren't ready to bear. It was just too soon. I knew right then that it was going to be a looong day. Four and a half hours later, I crossed the finish line.
Doing that race was one of the worst decisions I've ever made, and one that I am still regretting to this day. My eyes were bigger than my body. All the racing I had done that year led me to believe I was up for back to back 26.2 milers. That day was a humbling one. I spent the better part of five hours debating whether it was better to quit and save my body the beating I was giving it or to finish despite the pain and adversity. Unfortunately, my sticktoitveness prevailed on that day.
The following weeks, then months, were spent hobbling, icing, stretching, medicating, and phsyical therapying. This was the first time in my life where I could not do what I wanted to do because of an injury. I never realized the frustration and fear that comes with injury. As someone who lives by making plans and setting goals, it drove me crazy to have no idea when these injuries would recover.
Since extra time in the pool never hurts, I spent my days doing what I could, minimizing my impact, and working with what I had, so to speak. About a month ago, I put on my running shoes again for the first time since race day, I laced them up and set out. My legs were strong, but my tendons tender. The conversation kept me going, and in the end, I did the whole five miles. One of the happiest days of my life! Knowing things would be ok was huge.
So over the next four weeks, I would run or run/walk up to an hour but never go near the ten miles that I would face at Cherry Blossom. Ten miles for average Joe Shmoe is hard, but ten miles for the former me was a breeze. So I wondered, where on the spectrum would I fall? I hardly slept the night before, worried that I might not even be able to go the distance. Race day came, the weather was amazing (even though the cherry blossoms had long since peaked and withered), and I was excited about being back at the starting line.
An hour and forty-three minutes later, I crossed the finish line, screaming and pumping my fist the whole way! Another best day.
A bib came across my lap, and I simply could not resist. I went into the Marine Corps Marathon thinking, "You can do this, you just did one, don't push yourself, but get to the finish line." After the first mile, my knees felt as if I'd already done ten. Mile eight and a sharp downhill forced my knees to buckle under pressure they weren't ready to bear. It was just too soon. I knew right then that it was going to be a looong day. Four and a half hours later, I crossed the finish line.
Doing that race was one of the worst decisions I've ever made, and one that I am still regretting to this day. My eyes were bigger than my body. All the racing I had done that year led me to believe I was up for back to back 26.2 milers. That day was a humbling one. I spent the better part of five hours debating whether it was better to quit and save my body the beating I was giving it or to finish despite the pain and adversity. Unfortunately, my sticktoitveness prevailed on that day.
The following weeks, then months, were spent hobbling, icing, stretching, medicating, and phsyical therapying. This was the first time in my life where I could not do what I wanted to do because of an injury. I never realized the frustration and fear that comes with injury. As someone who lives by making plans and setting goals, it drove me crazy to have no idea when these injuries would recover.
Since extra time in the pool never hurts, I spent my days doing what I could, minimizing my impact, and working with what I had, so to speak. About a month ago, I put on my running shoes again for the first time since race day, I laced them up and set out. My legs were strong, but my tendons tender. The conversation kept me going, and in the end, I did the whole five miles. One of the happiest days of my life! Knowing things would be ok was huge.
So over the next four weeks, I would run or run/walk up to an hour but never go near the ten miles that I would face at Cherry Blossom. Ten miles for average Joe Shmoe is hard, but ten miles for the former me was a breeze. So I wondered, where on the spectrum would I fall? I hardly slept the night before, worried that I might not even be able to go the distance. Race day came, the weather was amazing (even though the cherry blossoms had long since peaked and withered), and I was excited about being back at the starting line.
An hour and forty-three minutes later, I crossed the finish line, screaming and pumping my fist the whole way! Another best day.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Ironman it is!
After a year of racing in triathlons and road races of many distances, I decided that 2010 would be the year of the IRONMAN. Looking back on the last three years, I can say that this goal would not even be in my realm of being without many seeming mistakes and missteps. Of course there are also many "on purpose" things that have contributed to this journey, but even more situations where my lemons just happened to turn into lemonade.
A person I was speaking to on the phone once said, "First things, first." Sure, it's a common phrase. But his context made it relevant to me and the choices I make in life. I can plan, analyze, and over-program with the best of them, but ultimately you have to take care of what comes at you first before you can deal with anything you can speculate for the future. In this vein, I will start at the beginning.
In July of 2007, a very close friend said she was thinking of doing a triathlon and encouraged me to sign up. I thought, "Hey ya know, I'm only spending my days studying for the biggest test of my life (the BAR exam), so why not?" She broke down the distances in a way that I could comprehend, saying, "the swim is only one-third of a mile, that'll be less than fifteen minutes; the bike, just twelve miles, less than an hour; and the run, an easy 5k cool down." Sure, I'd walked a three day, sixty-mile fundraiser for breast cancer. But my motivation and fear of disappointing friends, family, and supporters kept me going. Not my own internal compass! And yes, I had technically completed a marathon (fortunately for me, it was one that didn't have a cut off, and they let me walk my happy self across the finish line nearly six hours after the gun went off). But this triathlon was different. This was something I had never done before and not something I had even considered. Sure I could move my two feet across a set distance, but my hesitation came from the essence of what a TRIathlon is. Swim? Bike? And only then do you get to run? Maybe...
I'd learned how to swim when I was eight years old so that I could go to sleep away girl scout camp without the threat of realizing my parents' fear of death by drowning. But I had never, ever attempted to move through water with the deliberate purpose of getting from point A to point B. This was new. Thankfully, my apartment complex had a kidney shaped swimming pool that allowed me to go about fifteen yards, round trip. It wasn't ideal, but it was enough to convince me that I could train enough to complete my two goals with swimming. First, don't drown. Second, make it out of the water.
I quickly learned that my Gary Fisher mountain bike that I'd just purchased for a whopping three hundred dollars wouldn't come close to cutting it on race day. Luckily, my friend knew a friend who had a spare road bike that I could use for the race. The day before the race, I showed up at his place of work, slipped on my borrowed shoes with cleats and did my best not to ruin his obviously expensive bike. Clipping in and out was tricky for any newby, but especially for one who totters through life, daily wondering when the next mishap will be. I climbed on, got my balance and successfully skated around the parking lot. Now, I was ready for the bike.
The run was what I looked forward to and what I was most comfortable with. My shoes were at least a year old and were probably lacking all the support I know now I would have needed. But I didn't care. This was the one part of the race I knew I could do. I wouldn't drown, crash, or look like I didn't even know this sport existed two weeks ago. Of course on race day, it's a whole different story. When she told me about the run, my friend failed to remind me that I'd be starting this little 5k over an hour into my I-can't-breathe-please-be-over race. The thing that I was proudest of in that run was that I made it three whole miles without music. I'd been too chicken to sneak mine into the transition area. It was probably the the longest run I'd done up till then sans my usual musical motivation.
When I rounded the last corner and saw the finish line down the stretch, I saw my friend. Later I learned she'd finished long before me. But in my race, she was right there at the finish line, cheering me on and pushing me across the line. My heart filled with pride because I was so happy to have shared this race with her. Not to mention the fact that I really could not believe what I had just done. And for that short amount of time, there was no bar exam, there was no job search, there was no life transition. There was only me, the distance, and the finish line.
A very wise man once said, "It's about having a goal. The goal gets you up every day and gets you to keep pushing on when you don't want to otherwise." I couldn't agree more, and for me, the Ironman, if nothing else, is the ultimate goal of what I can physically do. That first race showed me that I am capable of doing much more than I think, and the reward is the surprise itself. Can I make it all season? Can I finish the race? I don't know, but I sure am training as if I can.
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