It is kind of sad when you have to learn a life lesson from your seven-year-old child. I am not too proud to admit it, but I am hoping that I can take this lesson and actually follow it for once.

I know it might be hard for you to imagine this, but I can be quite intense at times. I have been training so hard to this ultra-marathon, and now that my knee is giving up on me lately, it is really hard for me to dial back and not get too stressed about it. I am being good and resting like I know I need to, but that doesn't mean that my mind always lets it go.

Last week, I had a very telling dream. When I was a waitress before my teaching career, I used to have these dreams where I felt completely out of control. My restaurant had more than twenty tables, and I would have dreams where one by one the hostess would seat every table so that I couldn't possibly keep up. And when I did try to keep up, everything would go wrong. All the customers order complicated things like shakes, I can't find any silverware, and the customers are super needy and impatient. I wake up in a sweat. Stress brings these dreams out in me.

Last week I had an Ironman nightmare. I was an hour late to the event, after the swim I forgot to bike before my run, so I had to run back to my bike and start over. Then I realized I also failed to bring hydration or nutrition, and every time I would get back on track, someone would ask me to do something other than the race, and I would once again be going in the wrong direction.

I know that I am having this kind of dream because I am worried about my ultra marathon at the end of May. My knee is still not where it needs to be to put in that many miles, and I know I will need to revise my goal before the event. I am actually resigned to the fact that I probably will never be ready for the hundred-miler, but I have not completely given up hope of at least doing a shorter event on that day. As I mentioned, I am a little intense at times, and this is making me stress out over this event more than I probably should.

While I am not able to run right now, what is wrong with my knee is still allowing me to swim and to bike. In fact, last weekend, despite the fact that I haven't been on my racing bike in a few months, I was able to easily do a 30-mile bike ride without any knee pain. A funny story that came out of this bike ride again illustrates how intense I can be even when I am not trying. Once we got about halfway around our Lake Elsinore bike loop, I asked Sean to take the lead, and I noticed that Sean and my friend Karrie took off. I couldn't keep up with them no matter how hard I tried. Now I am used to actually being quick on my bike, and I was trying to dial back and go slowly because of my knee, but I still couldn't stand how far they were able to get ahead of me without a chance of me catching up. Once I arrived at our designated meeting point, I looked down and realized that I had been riding for almost two miles on a completely flat back tire. I was so focused on pushing myself to catch up, I didn't even notice the signs of a flat.

Yes...I am still not able to run, which has been frustrating as hell, but I am trying to put things in perspective in order to keep from falling into the hole of sadness and self-pity that I have found myself in over the last couple weeks. My spirits are higher this week for sure, but that doesn't mean that I am where I would like to be where it concerns my attitude.  I have been looking for inspiration, for a way to get back my positivity, and this week I came across some inspiration to move me in the right direction.

To be proactive about healing my knee, I made an appointment with my doctor in hopes of getting an MRI to obtain a definitive answer about whether my knee is better of worse than what is going on in my head.  In order to get the soonest appointment, I chose to go to a different physician than my usual.  Luckily, this doctor was just what I needed. She was thorough, and when I asked her if she was going to tell me not to run anymore, her response was exactly the message I needed to hear.  She shared that as she looked at my chart she could see that I had once been categorized as OBESE.  I knew this was true, but I sometimes forget how far I have come over the last six years.  She told me that in order to ensure that I never move back into the obese category again, she wanted to do everything she could to get me back to what I loved.  She shared something that wasn't new to me, but what is truly important in changing your life. To maintain a healthy lifestyle, you have to love what you do!  If you find your diet unsatisfying, or your exercise a monotonous chore you have to do, the new lifestyle will be difficult to maintain. 

This doctor fast-tracked my path to an orthopedist by not forcing me to do the required three-weeks of physical therapy, but no MRI yet.  So while I am moving forward, there is no specific reason for the knee pain nor time-frame for when I get get back out there.

While I have overcome the weight loss odds by not having gained all my weight back and more, I don't feel like anything I have done through this process has been brave.  I think I can be strong, I am persistent, and at times I have been able to inspire others to make changes in their lives, but none of this is brave.  Today I came across two very brave people who have once again inspired me, and helped me to put my current situation into a reasonable perspective.  I want to share these two people's story stories in hopes that you too will find them inspirational, because bravery abounds with these two individuals.

Lately, the subject of mental illness has been in the news for various reasons.  The fact is that people with mental illnesses feel ashamed, feel isolated, and they usually don't share their stories for fear that others will judge them.  Today my friend's daughter Jordan shared her journey with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). Jordan is a beautiful young girl who has been afflicted with this challenge since the age of fifteen.  Not only is her story inspiring, but her bravery in sharing her journey, despite possibly having others view her in a different and possibly judgmental way, brings strength to a new level.  Please share her story with anyone you know who is having difficulty pulling themselves out of the grips of depression or other mental illnesses. Hope Diaries--Jordan's Story

The final story I want to share is a little closer to my journey, because it concerns how we feel about our bodies. While being obese does not compare to having a mental illness, the shame and isolation we can feel is very similar.  I have no personal connection to Matt Diaz, except that I have had similar feelings about my body. Matt lost almost 300 pounds over the years, and if you were to see him in clothes, you would not have any idea what was underneath the fabric. Like me, Matt finds ways to hide those imperfections.  This video is so brave, because he takes off the cover and shows all his imperfections to the world.  Like Jordan, he faces criticism, judgement, and people leaving nasty, unkind comments.  For some reason, people seem to think that they can hide behind social media and leave harsh comments, and still, Matt shared his story. Matt Diaz Video

Sorry about last week's dive into self-pity, anger, and unhappiness.  I don't find myself there very often, but since this blog is my arena to get my thoughts and feelings out, I needed to go there last week.  I hope this week's blog is a little more of what you are used to getting from me.  Be kind to yourself by remembering how far you have come on your journey, and don't be ashamed to share your experiences with others.  You never know who you might be inspiring to make positive changes because of what you share.

Bounty From "The Box" March 14, 2015

With this running hiatus that has been forced upon me, I need to be more careful with my eating.  This makes me even more thankful for my weekly box full of organic goodies.  Today I want to share two dishes I created for lunch today.  One came from the box, and one I share because I love it so much.  If you have never eaten rapini (also know as broccoli rabe), you are in for a treat.  It has a more bitter taste than broccoli, but when paired with creamy textures, it has a perfect balance.  Today I made one of my favorite vegetarian sandwiches. I steam the rapini, pat it dry, then spray it with olive oil and sprinkle on some red pepper flakes.  I serve it on soft sourdough bread with a spread of lite mayo and a slice of soft cheese like havarti or muenster.  I also made a refreshing endive, grapefruit, and avocado salad.  The recipe is included below in the slide show.  

I have been writing this blog for over four years now. From the very beginning it was meant to be a place where I could capture my experiences, feelings, and resources and strategies that have helped to improve my overall health.  My weekly entires are a diary of sorts for me.  In the beginning, it really was just a place for me to place all the feelings and thoughts that go on in my head during the week.  I can be very hard on myself, and this blog gives me an outlet to get that negativity out so I can find room to be kind to myself.

I have to warn you that this week I am not in a good place.  I get in funks, and I am in a huge hole right now and finding it hard to get out.  If you were hoping for an uplifting entry this week, log off now and come back next week.  I have to get this off my chest, because my frustration and anger at being injured and so far off my training is pulling me down into a funk.

I listened to my body this week, although it was not really a choice.  I couldn't have run if I had tried.  My muscles all around my knee were so seized up that it was even difficult to walk around at work let alone exercise. So, instead I got plenty of sleep in hopes of healing quickly.  I iced, I stretched, and hoped that this weekend, if I was good, I could get back at it.  I knew that I couldn't think of going right back to the crazy number of miles I had built up to in the last month, but I was hoping to get back out there pain-free.

This morning I got up early to beat the heat.  My amazing running team was there to support me, but my leg was not.  I didn't even get to the bottom of my street before I realized there was no way I could even run one mile, let alone the five I was hoping to conquer.  This is the point where I lost it.  Running makes me happier than I can even explain in words.  As I drove around town today all I could see were runners--single runners, groups of runners, fast runners, slow runners, they appeared to be everywhere I looked, and I wanted to be out there with them. The more runners I encountered, the deeper my sadness grew. I know it doesn't seem reasonable, but I find my sense of reason has become like a petulant child with fingers firmly placed in her ears refusing to listen.  "La, la, la, la...I am not listening!"

I know it has only been a week, but what you need to understand is that running doesn't just make me happy, it keeps me sane.  While I absolutely love my job, it can be very stressful at times.  Add that to the responsibilities of being a mother, a wife, and everything else in life that takes time and patience, and I need an outlet to let off that stress and energy, and running does that and more for me.  

Running also allows me to eat the food I love, and without the ability to get out there and burn calories, I need to be much more careful than even my usual healthy eating. I have the worst metabolism ever, and only running seems to give me that calorie boost I need.  I like biking, I like swimming, but I don't seem to get the same endorphins, calorie burn, or happiness that I get when I am out running the streets with my buddies.

And speaking of my running buddies, not only are they amazing running partners, but I consider our early morning treks around Murrieta a form of therapy.  I can share my frustrations, my stresses, and my triumphs with them. I run ideas by them and ask for their suggestions.  If I have a decision to make, our long runs allow me time to share my options and to get some advice.  Can you see why I am freaking out a bit about my hiatus from running? 

Add to that the fact that in just over two months I am hoping to run my first ultra marathon.  If this injury persists much longer there is a chance I won't be ready to run the 50 let alone the 100-miler.  In my head I know this is just a stupid injury.  It is not cancer.  It is not the loss of a loved one.  It is not a permanent problem, but I cannot get my heart to a sensible place.  I am reminding myself constantly that this is not the end of the world, but all I get back is, "La, la, la, la...I am not listening!" Hoping that the reasonable side of me will take over soon--that or a miraculous healing of this knee so I can get back out there to my happy place.

I am still trying to reflect on what happened today. This day did not turn out how I expected it to. I have been waiting for a whole year to run the San Diego Half Marathon to honor our friend Kay and her successful battle with cancer. I love this race!  It is my favorite course of all the ones that I have competed in, and this is why I decided to do it for a fourth time. I had convinced a whole group of our friends how amazing this race was, and how awesome it would be if we were to honor Kay by running this race with her. But from the time I got up this morning, I knew that this wasn't going to be my day. My knee was hurting a bit, and I just didn't feel like myself today. I don't know how to explain it...I just didn't feel right. 

It started yesterday when I tried to complete a portion of my ultra marathon training miles. In the morning I ran the Undy Colo-Recal Alliance 5K with Kay and Gaby. We were in full butt-er-fly costumes including wings and masks, but I forgot to wear my knee braces. Mistake! When I got home I ran another 3 miles in the heat of the day without having first eaten or having hydrated after the morning's race--it was a brutal, not stellar run. I then tried to sneak in another 5 miles at 5:00 pm in hopes of getting somewhere near the 15 miles I needed for the day's training. But I knew I needed to be reasonable since I had a half marathon the next morning. Problem was, last night my knee started to bug me a bit. 

I tend to try and be careful when I have injuries, but I didn't want to miss this race. I only completed 3 miles before I realized that my knee was going to pose a bigger problem for me than I expected. By mile 4, walking was becoming harder. I love this race so much, that I decided to try and just walk the remaining part of the marathon and take it a little easier than I had planned. I attempted to use some spray to freeze the area, and I even stopped at the aide station at mile 6.5 to have someone stretch and massage the kinks out. I pushed as hard as I could, I kept going as far as I could, but at mile 8 my right knee decided it had had enough, and one final step stopped me right in my tracks. I was done!

This was tough for me! For those of you that have been following me over the years know that I do not give up easily. I was humbled to realize my body could give out on me. I knew I had limits, I have just never actually reached that limit. I was humbled, I was sad, and I was frustrated--my first DNF (Did Not Finish).

It is hard for me to describe the dejected feelings I experienced as I watched some of the final runners move past me as I sat on a folding chair waiting for the race van to pick me up for my ride to the finish.  When I saw the truck that had been collecting all the race mile markers pass me, all the cones collected in another truck, and as they broke down the water stop around me and picked up the volunteers, I tried not to cry.  Silly, right?  I was trying to put it in perspective--this little blip was not the end of the world, it does not define me, and I hope it does not affect my confidence.  I have never NOT finished a race--in some ways I have taken my ability to race for granted.  

I think that the thing I need to focus on is the beauty of what this day represented.  This was a day for Kay and her friends that love her to celebrate her return to health by running through the streets of a city that brings her so much joy.  Even when she was at her lowest points in her cancer journey, she could go for a walk or run at the beach and it would instantly raise her spirits.  I might not have finished, but a whole group of those that loved and prayed her back to health were able to experience the same joys that Kay and I have running this race. I don't want to ruin the amazing experience everyone had by having a pity party over a little set-back.  

And in my frustration with my temporary injury, I almost failed to see and feel the love that was extended to me by all my running buddies that refused to leave me by myself until I threatened them to move on.  Every one of them would have sacrificed their races to make sure I was safe.  One by one as they ran up behind me, they all spent a long time refusing to move on without me.  This is what I need to remember about this race.  I was surrounded by love, I was surrounded by beauty, and this is just another little hurdle for me to overcome.  I am temporarily down, but certainly not out.  

When I was a little girl, I remember thinking that 50 seemed ancient. Now that I have slowly approached closer to this age, I realize that 50 is anything but ancient. Especially personally…I look at myself and feel that this part of my life has actually included some of the best years of my life.

I do find it funny, however, that society seems to still label people in their 50s as older than they truly are. I had the experience last week of going to a new dentist. As I looked up at my digital chart on the screen, I noticed that there was an area for decade. Under decade it said 5, and it surprised me to realize that because I am 48, I actually am in the fifth decade of my life. I have spent the last few years relieved that I have not yet reached that half-century mark, not necessarily because I'll be old, but more because it marks half of my life having passed.

And the doctor's office is not the only place that I have felt old of late. Recently I have been rereading Fifty Shades of Gray, and the main character has several times in the books when she suggests people are old including one scene when she states that someone in their 30's is old--REALLY??

Well this "old lady" had to dig deep this week and channel her inner beast to push through some training obstacles. I have been trying to work my way back to where I was before I got that dreaded flu, and all this while still recovering with a little cough and some lower than usual energy levels. Yesterday and today were the first days I have been able to really push to try to get back my long run stamina. Yesterday I was able to run almost 13 miles. and today I wanted to get in at least 20. Despite the rain, despite the cold, my friend Gaby and I got out there and did 10 very wet, early morning miles. That left me with ten more miles to complete on my own. I was not motivated at all to get back out there. I was cold, wet, a bit sore, and I was not looking forward to all that time running by myself.  I really had to dig deep and tell myself that running solo needs to be part of my training. I knew the hardest part would be starting, so I put on dry clothes, fresh shoes, and reminded myself that I could do this.

I have little tricks to keep me going.  First, when I know I am not as motivated as I should be, I do a longer out-and-back route instead of choosing to do loops around my house.  That way, once I get to the half-way mark I have to finish my miles to get back home.  So I ran a little more than 5 miles out, and then I had to complete the last 5 to get out of the rain and cold wind.

Another strategy I use is to think of people in my life that are going through difficult situations and overcoming those challenges.  I often think of Jim and Kay and their battles with cancer.  I might not want to run, but I remind myself that my little challenge is nothing compared to what they have gone through over the last three years. Both of them have now received clear cancer scans, but I use their strength to push me through.

I also give myself little goals along the route to break a long run into smaller distances.  I tell myself if I can just make it to a certain spot, the Del Taco, the light at a certain street, the 4-mile mark, that I can take some nutrition or take a drink from my water bottle.  I am not sure why it works, but it does for me.

In the end, I used all the above strategies to actually push myself to complete 20.7 miles today for a 33.5 mile total for the weekend. I was able to do this despite a hillier more difficult second 10 miles, despite the fact that the rain and wind were brutal for about 17 or the 20 miles, and despite there not being another soul out there exercising in the brutal elements. All this actually made me push even harder to get it done. Today I proved to myself that I have an inner beast inside that kicks in when things get tough. I am hoping to channel this same strength in May when I tackle the Nanny Goat Ultra marathon, because this "old lady" is stronger than she thinks!