Honolulu 5K for Kids 4.28.13

Today was the Honolulu 5K for Kids.  5K is not a race that I generally sign up for but since this race had a 1 mile option for kids we decided to sign up as a family.

Our kids are very active and our daughter especially loves to run.  We don't' want to push our kids but over the past year have talked to them a lot about mommy and daddy racing.  They have recently taken an interest in the sport and so we have decided to slowly expose them to the racing culture.

This was to be their 2nd race. They participated in a 500 meter fun run last May and I had to carry the 4 year old for most of the way.  In preparation for today's race we went on 1 mile "adventure jogs" with a lot of skipping, jumping, hopping, and fun stuff.

Our favorite Kindergarten teacher and our fitness friends all signed up for the race since it's a big fundraiser for the schools.  We all planned to hang out after the race and leading up to it the big event was getting more and more exciting.

Because I am competitive I signed myself up for the 5K race and the hubby and the kids for the 1 miler. The plan was to have the kids and hubby run with our other friends.  We knew that our kids would all run at different paces so we were hoping that we'd have enough adults to keep up with all the kids.

Getting the kids up early was not easy and we got to the race right on time.  I had to run to my start while the hubby went to the other start with everyone else.

Coming off from the North Shore Marathon and injuries 2 weeks ago I didn't do many long runs and I wasn't exactly sure how my left knee would hold up. Being that I don't run 5Ks I also didn't know what to expect.  I had PRd all my races in 2013 up to this point but as far as 5Ks go, I have only ran three of them and only one was an officially timed race.  At the start line I voiced my goal pace to a friend as "26 minutes."  I figured that that would be a good goal as the last time I wan a 5K I did it in about 27 minutes last year.

When the bomb blasted to start the race I took off and was amazed to see how many little ones were running faster than me.  As I looked down at my watch I noticed that I was running at a 7:50 pace but didn't feel at all uncomfortable so I decided to hang there for awhile.  I watched as little person after little person sped past me and I wondered if they would be able to keep pace and whether I was really slow.  At mile 1 I was at just about an 8 minute pace and was still cruising along.  With no training background I wasn't sure if I would crash and burn at this pace or be able to hold it another 2 miles so I decided to slow down a bit.  I was feeling good, foot was feeling good, knee was in check and I was okay.  At about this time I saw my family at the starting line of their race and they were cheering for me, it was an awesome feeling!!!

At mile 2 I looked at my Garmin and saw that I was still at the 8:00 pace.  I knew that the winners were crossing the finish line and my family was just starting the 1 mile run. With no idea how to "finish" a 5K run I told myself to hold it here and kick when I had half a mile left.  At this point I began passing other runners who could not sustain their pace.

At just about 2.5 miles I saw my friends and family with my little guy walking on the 1 mile route.  I knew the end was near so I decided to pick up the pace a little.  Again though, not having any concept of this distance I wasn't sure how hard to run.  With other races that I run on the same route I know exactly where I need to pour it on (Tennis courts at Kapiolani Park) and I know how long I can sustain my kick.  But today, I was clueless and in uncharted territory.

As I approached the shoot I had no idea where I was on time (another no no on my running) and I decided to just run all out.  As I crossed the line I saw that my time was 25:15 on my Garmin.  I was ecstatic because I had never before clocked a 25 minute race and at the same time a little confused since I still felt like I had so much more energy to give.

I neared the refreshment tent and saw that my husband was there with my daughter.  She was having a grand old time and the hubby gave me her re-cap.

According to the hubby the little princess had an awesome run and came in as the first girl.  She ran very hard during the whole mile and pushed on even when her friend stopped to walk. In fact, he had to run really hard in order to be able to catch up with her!!!

At that point the rest of the 1 miler runners started to come in and it was time to celebrate.  When all the dust settled I had another 4th place finish, once again missing a medal by another thirty seconds and of course that drove me nuts again.  I began to pick my dear friend K's brain about running and came up with a plan to work on my speed.  As the kids played at the park, running around enjoying life and the adults watched them and talked story I was just so happy to have friends who share so many of my passions and with whom we can just hang out at the park with and enjoy one another.

And so another race comes to a close and this racing mommy with an over-active mind begins thinking, plotting, scheming, and looking for the next 5K.  You heard it here.  I am committing to more cross training, more speed work and will slowly begin adding more 5K races to my schedule...but first up!  Do I run the Pineapple 10K?  And more importantly, time to start training for the Half Marathon in less than a month!!  Let's do this!!!

Fear

Some people let fear get in the way of achieving their goals.  I use fear as a tool to drive me in my preparation of meeting my goals.

Just when I needed it...

Just read this post.  It came when I needed it. I love my daughter but struggle to be a mom, a woman, a human.  I hope the world changes for my daughter so that she doesn't have to struggle the way I do.  I wish I knew who to credit for this:

25 RULES FOR MOTHERS OF DAUGHTERS

1. Paint her nails. Then let her scratch it off and dirty them up. Teach her to care about her appearance, and then quickly remind her that living and having fun is most important.

2. Let her put on your makeup, even if it means bright-red-smudged lips and streaked-blue eyes. Let her experiment in her attempts to be like you…then let her be herself.

3. Let her be wild. She may want to stay home and read books on the couch, or she may want to hop on the back of a motorcycle-gasp. She may be a homebody or a traveler. She may fall in love with the wrong boy, or meet mr. right at age 5. Try to remember that you were her age once. Everyone makes mistakes, let her make her own.

4. Be present. Be there for her at her Kindergarten performances, her dance recitals, her soccer games…her everyday-little-moments. When she looks through the crowds of people, she will be looking for your smile and pride. Show it to her as often as possible.

5. Encourage her to try on your shoes and play dress-up. If she would rather wear her brother’s superman cape with high heals, allow it. If she wants to wear a tutu or dinosaur costume to the grocery store, why stop her? She needs to decide who she is and be confident in her decision.

6. Teach her to be independent. Show her by example that woman can be strong. Find and follow your own passions. Search for outlets of expression and enjoyment for yourself- not just your husband or children. Define yourself by your own attributes, not by what others expect you to be. Know who you are as a person, and help your daughter find out who she is.

7. Pick flowers with her. Put them in her hair. There is nothing more beautiful than a girl and a flower.

8. Let her get messy. Get messy with her, no matter how much it makes you cringe inside. Splash in the puddles, throw snowballs, make mud pies, finger paint the walls: just let it happen. The most wonderful of memories are often the messy ones.

9. Give her good role models- you being one of them. Introduce her to successful woman- friends, co-workers, doctors, astronauts, or authors. Read to her about influential woman- Eleanor Roosevelt, Rosa Parks, Marie Curie. Read her the words of inspirational woman- Jane Austen, Sylvia Plath, Emily Dickinson. She should know that anything is possible.

10. Show her affection. Daughters will mimic the compassion of their mother. “I love yous” and Eskimo kisses go a long way.

11. Hold her hand. Whether she is 3 years-old in the parking lot or sixteen years old in the mall, hold on to her always- this will teach her to be confident in herself and proud of her family.

12. Believe in her. It is the moments that she does not believe in herself that she will need you to believe enough for both of you. Whether it is a spelling test in the first grade, a big game or recital, a first date, or the first day of college…remind her of the independent and capable woman you have taught her to be.

13. Tell her how beautiful she is. Whether it is her first day of Kindergarten, immediately after a soccer game where she is grass-stained and sweaty, or her wedding day. She needs your reminders. She needs your pride. She needs your reassurance. She is only human.

14. Love her father. Teach her to love a good man, like him. One who lets her be herself…she is after all wonderful.

15. Make forts with boxes and blankets. Help her to find magic in the ordinary, to imagine, to create and to believe in fairy tales. Someday she will make her 5 by 5 dorm-room her home with magic touches and inspiration. And she will fall in love with a boy and believe him to be Prince Charming.

16. Read to her. Read her Dr. Seuss and Eric Carle. But also remember the power of Sylvia Plath and Robert Frost. Show her the beauty of words on a page and let her see you enjoy them. Words can be simply written and simply spoken, yet can harvest so much meaning. Help her to find their meaning.

17. Teach her how to love- with passion and kisses. Love her passionately. Love her father passionately and her siblings passionately. Express your love. Show her how to love with no restraint. Let her get her heart broken and try again. Let her cry, and gush, giggle and scream. She will love like you love or hate like you hate. So, choose love for both you and her.

18. Encourage her to dance and sing. Dance and sing with her- even if it sounds or looks horrible. Let her wiggle to nursery rhymes. Let her dance on her daddy's feet and spin in your arms. Then later, let her blast noise and headbang in her bedroom with her door shut if she wants. Or karaoke to Tom Petty in the living room if she would rather. Introduce her to the classics- like The Beatles- and listen to her latest favorite- like Taylor Swift. Share the magic of music together, it will bring you closer- or at least create a soundtrack to your life together.

19. Share secrets together. Communicate. Talk. Talk about anything. Let her tell you about boys, friends, school. Listen. Ask questions. Share dreams, hopes, concerns. She is not only your daughter, you are not only her mother. Be her friend too.

20. Teach her manners. Because sometimes you have to be her mother, not just her friend. The world is a happier place when made up of polite words and smiles.

21. Teach her when to stand-up and when to walk away. Whether she has classmates who tease her because of her glasses, or a boyfriend who tells her she is too fat - let her know she does not have to listen. Make sure she knows how to demand respect - she is worthy of it. It does not mean she has to fight back with fists or words, because sometimes you say more with silence. Also make sure she knows which battles are worth fighting. Remind her that some people can be mean and nasty because of jealousy, or other personal reasons. Help her to understand when to shut her mouth and walk-away. Teach her to be the better person.

22. Let her choose who she loves. Even when you see through the charming boy she thinks he is, let her love him without your disapproving words; she will anyway. When he breaks her heart, be there for her with words of support rather than I told-you-so. Let her mess up again and again until she finds the one. And when she finds the one, tell her.

23. Mother her. Being a mother - to her - is undoubtedly one of your greatest accomplishments. Share with her the joys of motherhood, so one day she will want to be a mother too. Remind her over and over again with words and kisses that no one will ever love her like you love her. No one can replace or replicate a mother's love for their children.

24. Comfort her. Because sometimes you just need your mommy. When she is sick, rub her back, make her soup and cover her in blankets - no matter how old she is. Someday, if she is giving birth to her own child, push her hair out of her face, encourage her, and tell her how beautiful she is. These are the moments she will remember you for. And someday when her husband rubs her back in attempt to comfort her...she may just whisper, "I need my mommy."

25. Be home. When she is sick with a cold or broken heart, she will come to you; welcome her. When she is engaged or pregnant, she will run to you to share her news; embrace her. When she is lost or confused, she will search for you; find her. When she needs advice on boys, schools, friends or an outfit; tell her. She is your daughter and will always need a safe harbor - where she can turn a key to see comforting eyes and a familiar smile; be home.

I write

I write to find answers.

Because mothers rarely have time to connect.  Friendships are not easy.  Time is scarce.  Quiet time to talk on the phone is non-existent.  The days are for work, the afternoons are for family.  And this is the life of all my friends.

So the computer is my shrink and my words are my drug.  I send them out there in hopes that someone will hear my voice becuause I feel as if I have none.

This strong, able woman is drowning in life and unsure what can save me or if I want to be saved from this life that I have chosen.

My words are bleak, but do not read into them.  I love my kids and would never abandon them but I am just so tired of being strong and holding everyone and everything together.  Of being responsible.  Of having all the answers.  Of not being able to hide.  Of not being able to find quiet.  Of not being heard.

The exhaustion has no end.  Because as soon as my head sleeps on the pillow a new day is here with the same demands and new demands and old tantrums and new tantrums.  And as I rush to keep up and as I strategize to avoid new disasters I continue to lose myself.  Lose myself in being mommy.

Numb

Living numb is now who I am but sometimes it's the only way to survive.

How do you turn off your emotions and live detached?  I don't know how to do it but I am going to try.  For my sanity.

Life is much gentler when lived in my running shoes.

It was a rough day today.  The storms torrented my life and I have felt distracted, disengaged, disgusted.  The noise in and outside of my head threatened to take over and drown me.  After dinner I escaped to my room to try and find quiet.  Every time my kids approached me I pushed them away and the guilt corroded me inside and my anger grew.

When it was finally quiet I put on my running shoes and ran out the door to find my quiet.  I used to smoke. I used to drink. I used to shop.  Now I run.

Each step was like a tear letting out some of the pain.  Each step brought me closer to whole.  Each step cleansed the darkness out of my heart.  The farther I ran, the calmer I felt, the quieter the noise in my head got, the lesser the rage in my heart, the screaming in my ears.  As I ran I composed this blog.  I tried to understand what the running does for me.  How it eases my frenzy and how it makes me able to give to my family again.

On the run I realized that it's been awhile since I had time for a cleansing run.  Lately they've been runs of hurry.  Hurry up and get it done while the kids are at gymnastics.  Hurry up basketball practice is almost over.  Hurry up its about to rain.  Hurry.

Tonight it was just me and the road and I was in control.  There was no need to log miles, no need for speed, no needy kids to get home to.  Just me searching in the darkness.  Trying to find myself out there.  Looking for peace.  Yearning to be whole.  Crying for calm.

It only took two miles for me to feel like I could come home again.  Twenty minutes of time to myself to find my sanity.  Some people think I am demanding. But how many people can find nirvana in a mere twenty minutes?  Twenty minutes on the road.  Free therapy, zero calories, nothing harmful, artificial, illegal, or sinful.  I find the comfort in pushing myself on the pavement, not in the arms of another, not in throwing back shots, or taking a hit from a bong.  I can find it inside of me when given the chance to get out there and run.

More ranting and raving.

I am going mad.

Like Edgar Allen Poe mad.  Like Tell Tale Heart mad.  The pounding in my head is as loud as the noise of kids and mishmash of my world.

I am screaming for help and no one can help me.

The friends who try to help by telling me to get a drink piss me off even more.  Don't they know that I don't have that kind of liberty?  The kind of freedom to dismiss my responsibilities and run away to get wasted?  That getting wasted would only cause more problems because I would have to come home and return to mommy duties and do them wasted?!!!

The frustration and anger festers and grows and is taking over me.  The darkness is closing in and the clouds have blocked out the sun.

Saving myself from myself

I am one of those emotionally over charged females that suffers from incredible highs and gut wrenching lows.  I have always been one that cries easily, infuriates often, and loves madly.  My emotions on speed have always been my handicap.

It's taken a long time and a lot of work to keep my tears in check and my anger under wraps and there's still so far to go.  Today I have come to the conclusion that I need to will myself to be more stoic in order to save myself from total combustion.  I am just so tired of living on this roller coaster and I need to get off.  Now.

No brain no headache, no heart, no heart ache.  And so I begin the process of checking out.  Of not giving a damn, of turning the other cheek, of giving in to blah.

The curse of a woman.

I am woman hear me roar!

Girl Power!!

Destiny's Child Independent Woman

The curse of being a woman in the year 2013.

I recently wrote a post on Facebook that read, "I hate that being a single married mom makes me feel trapped and resentful."

It wasn't receieved very positively and in fact I someone had the nerve to tell me that I should "Count my blessing that I have time to run every day."  As you can imagine that response pissed the shit outta me because 1) I thank my friends, family, and even complete strangers at least two times a month for the gift of running and 2) Why the hell should I be thankful that I have given EVERYTHING up EXCEPT running to be a full time working mother of two?!!!!  Damn it all to hell.

I am angry, and resentful and that's because I am a perfectionist and cursed by my sense of responsibility. I am not able to blow my job or my family off, I do not run away for extended amounts of time for me time, I do not have Girls' Nights Out or couple time where we fly away for a romantic weekend without kids.  I have not left this island since before my son was born (he's 5 now) and the only time I have spent an evening without my kids was when I was in the hospital with an emergency surgery.  Wait.  I can't even count that because they cut me open, woke me up, and then sent me home. Ok, then, the only time was the night before the Honolulu Marathon and that's only because we needed to be at the Starting Line by 3:30 am.

But I digress.  My real anger is directed toward the fact that we women are too good at what we do.  We fought for equality and wanted the same rights that men had.  The right to vote, the right to work outside of the home, the right to earn wages equal to men and so on and so forth.  We have worked hard to prove ourselves as equal to men in so many different aspects of life.  In doing so we shot ourselves in the foot.  Why?!!

Because men are smarter than we are!!!

Have you ever seen a man's movement to prove that they as a gender are as capable as we are in the home?!!!

Sure, we all know a few men that can cook, clean, and take care of a household as well as we do, but do you see men banding together, staging protests, burning their jock straps to be looked upon by society as serious contenders in the home-making department?!  HELL to the NO! They don't want our jobs in the home and we enable them to never have to!!!

I have talked to a million of my girlfriends who are as angry and frustrated as I that they need to work outside of the home AND take care of the household and yet they also admit in the same conversation that they do everything for their husband because they don't "trust" them to do a good job, OR it's "easier to just do it myself because he'll do it wrong."  Some of my friends don't want to look like a bitch, think it's their job and not their husbands, and many others have just given up.

So here we are, strong, capable women who work just as many hours outside of the home, make as much as our husbands, and still continue to carry the brunt of household chores and child-rearing.  We have worked so hard to get to where we are today and what it is is that we're doing the work of our moms and our fathers!!!  Have we evolved?  Have we won anything?  Are we better off than our mothers were?  Will our daughters be better off than we are?

I rant and rave constantly and my husband looks at me like I am a raving lunatic and goes on with his life.  A month ago I asked him to clean out the two cars. I ended up doing one but am still waiting for him to clean the other.  I watch him step over messes, yell at him, then pick them up myself.  I leave him notes, text him messages and he still gets it wrong so I end up doing it for him.  I am my own biggest enemy.  My sense of responsibility and my need for organization breeds this vicious cycle that I will probably never be able to escape.

And even worse?  I pick up after my son when he complains that cleaning is too hard.  I give my daughter jobs in the home that I let my son skip.  I make my daughter responsible for looking after my son.  I further reinforce these awful stereotypes with my own children even though I know it is wrong. It is such a difficult cycle to break!!!

So what's the answer?  I have no idea.  I rant and rave, I get more and more angry. I continue to try different things and I lean on my girlfriends that are experiencing the same frustration.  And yes, I run. I run strong, and long, and far away from home to escape the noise, the crying, the needing and my reality.

Tired.

The past week has kicked my ass and I am tired.

It's been a long time since I have felt so emotionally bankrupt that I just want to lie in bed with my pajamas and cry into my bag of potato chips with a side of ice cream.

I feel overwhelmed but underwhelmed, empty but guilty because my life is full, unlovable but loved.  Living an oxymoron life is distressing.  Even for a Gemini Rat.  Although being a dual personality is in my nature life as I know it has really become too much even for a self-described multi-tasker (ADHD/ADD), insomniac.

Life as the able capable responsible confident wife, friend, and mother can really kick you in the ass.  Especially once you get into the habit of planning everything, taking care of everyone, and doing it with grace and panache.  Because when you become that person it's just expected that you'll get everything done and  not be frazzled by it.

But I am frazzled and frazzled to the core. I am not myself.  I am on the verge of tears. I am distracted.  And I am holding on by a thread. I am looking for anyone...anyone to take care of things for a little while, to take care of me.  Because I am tired of thinking and planning and doing and fixing.  I don't want to choose, I don't want to make the decisions.  I am tired of being the family calendar keeper and tired of being the one that has to look out for and remember everything.  I don't want to have to step in to fix, I am tired of refereeing and I would love to have more than 5 minutes in the bathroom before someone comes barging in.

Tired.  Flustered.  In need of a hero. Searching for a hero.

For Boston

Today I had the kids dress in their Race T-shirts and we ran a mile together. I told them that we're training for their race in two weeks which is the Honolulu 5K for kids (they're doing the 1 mile run and I am doing the 5K).  We had a blast on our training run.  I put on my Katy Perry Pandora channel and we ran, danced, skipped, hopped and had a grand ole time. I know anyone that saw us thought we were nuts and that's exactly the way I like it.

My kids don't have to know why we're running although they did see some of the news about the Boston tragedy and have a lot of questions.  But I want them to always be free to run. I always want them to enjoy the pleasure of watching mommy and daddy run a race.  I always want to have my selfish needs of wanting my family at my races granted.  And some day I want them to be able to run a marathon with no fear for their safety.

Today I ran free with my kids and that's the way it should always be.

Run Streak Day 476

Today is the day after my second marathon and I am the walking wounded.  Seriously, it hurts like hell to walk. I considered taking the day off from work but decided it was probably a better idea to move around. So I got dressed and tried to walk out to my car.  Ouch.  Got to work and looked at my office on the 2nd floor and cringed.  I let the kids go ahead of me because I wasn't sure how the hell I was going to get up there.  I got up there.  Yeah it took awhile but I did.  Going down, well that was more painful than going up.

I went about my day doing things that I normally had to do and a bunch of people asked if I injured me leg, including my big boss.  I found that the longer I sat with my legs hanging the worse the pain was when I tried to stand up and move so I decided to move as much as I could.

Then I began reading the messages on Facebook about the Boston Marathon bombing and even a call from my mom to tell me about it (that's how you know it's big news).  From the moment that I learned about the bombing I have been totally disturbed.

I posted a picture yesterday of my family meeting me at the finish line.  This picture is priceless to me because it signifies everything that is good in my life, everything that I have worked so hard to become.  This image has come back to me time and time again today, haunting me. I kept thinking about all the runners in the Boston Marathon who worked so hard who made so many sacrifices, whose families made so many sacrifices, who were there at the finish line to celebrate something so magical.  Because of today, something so special will always be tainted.  It is horrifying.  They have been robbed of something they earned and we don't know why and may never know why.

I am relatively new to the running community. I have only been racing for two years.  It is not a fraternity I have ever thought I would be a part of.  I am not a runner, I thought.  I am not good enough. I am not fast enough. I cannot run far.  In the two years that I have been running I have met incredible people.  People who are generous, knowledgeable, incredible!  People who have taught me so much and  have given to me with no ask for anything in return.  Think of the Honolulu Marathon Clinic who trains and provides refreshments for free.  Think of all the volunteers at races who wake up before the sun to pass out water and cheer strangers on.  Think of the runners on the course who beat your ass on the road then wait at the Finish Line to cheer you on.  The camaraderie is amazing.  I think of the runners I have met in real life and in the virtual world and I am amazed at the heart, spirit, will, determination that these people have  and it PISSES THE SHIT out of me that anyone would callously target then to make whatever sick point they feel they need to make.

And yet, in many ways their miscalculation is ironic, for they truly messed with some bad mutha fuckahz, because you have to be of strong mind, spirit, and will to run 26.2 miles and these sick bastards have truly under estimated just what it takes to run a marathon.  Because running a marathon is not for sissies.  A marathon is a strong that only another marathoner can understand.

A popular marathon quote comes to mind:

"At mile 20 I thought I was dead.  At mile 22 I wished I were dead. At mile 26 I realized I was too tough to kill."

This truly captures the spirit of a marathoner.  Something about enduring those 26 miles and battling with yourself in your head, fighting through the pain makes you tough as hell and a tragic event like this will not stop the running community.  Already there are movements of people planning to wear their running shirts and working on qualifying for the Boston Marathon next year to show solidarity and to fight back.  Standing united, showing no fear, it is awesome coming out of such a sad, tragic event.

Three years ago I would have viewed this event as tragic but I would have been far removed. Today I take the attack personally and plan on striking back.  It is doubtful that I will be able to run the 3:45 time needed to qualify for Boston in my age group but I will be DAMNED if I will let any insane bastard rob me of my passion and the freedom to run free and wild. I will be DAMNED if I shield my kids from learning to love to run because it is dangerous.

Today the passion burns brighter than ever and I will share it with the world.  If more people were high on running endorphins the world would be a better place.

And so, on this day, the day I planned to end my 475 day running streak I pushed through the pain, put on my shoes and hobbled, shuffled, and walked at times through my one mile run.  It was ugly but I sure as hell hoped that everyone passing me in their cars saw me running.   I hoped they looked at me as a crazy injured hobbling runner running through the pain and kicking some ass. I hope they understood just why I was out there running. And I sure as hell hope that tomorrow we'll see race shirts at work and on the road and a helluva lotta people hitting the payment.

No medals for 4th place

Did I really miss out on a medal by only 6 minutes?  Granted 6 minutes is a long time in racing, but spread out over 26.2 miles, that's what?!!  Ok, I don't know because I am too tired to do the math but I am sure I could figure it out.  That's probably the equivalent of my bathroom break and walking through the water stops so I wouldn't spill all over my face.

Anyway, this is going to cause me to: 1) lose sleep, 2) have to run it again, 3) train harder.  But with my luck the fast 40 year olds will show up to the race.

Still happy though, this is my best finish ever (place wise).

Kudos to my supporters.

My running journey has been an emotional one. Being athletic all my life when I looked at myself in the mirror at 38 post two babies I was so sad with what I saw. But it wasn't only the weight that I had gained but the fact that I was tired all the time and was so far away from playing soccer, running around, being fit and active. I have come such a long way since January 2011 and there have been a million people who have helped me get to where I am today. I can never thank my family enough for watching kids and giving me the time I needed to run far far away. And it may sound crazy but thank you to my FB Friends near and far old and new who have commented and liked every ridiculous facebook post (and there have been many) about my running journey. You have all inspired me, supported me, and kept me accountable in ways that you don't know. Thank you so much for helping me find my strong.

North Shore Marathon

The North Shore holds special meaning for me because I spent many summers at the beaches there.  When I am in the North Shore I feel a special calmness, as though I am home.  So, after I was able to complete the Honolulu Marathon in December I really wanted to give the North Shore Marathon a try. There were many reasons I was concerned about this race:  1) the heat--no shade, black asphalt, lots of sun, and 2) the smallness of the race--no crowds cheering like the Honolulu Marathon and with a small entry group it was likely I'd be running solo for most of the race.

I asked a bunch of my running peeps including my hubby to run with me but I got no takers. I was a little nervous but determined to do the race. About a month before the race I found a brave soul to run with me and was grateful and a little nervous. My running partner J is way younger than me, totally fit, super fast, and ultra competitive.  I was so worried about keeping up with her!!!

J and I trained a bit together and were pretty well-prepared.  We talked about goals and her's were a little lofty for me but I knew that she'd push me a new PR.  So very exciting!!!

Race weekend came faster than I would have liked but I knew I was as ready as I would ever be and I was eager to get it done so I could take a break from training mode.  I went through all my routines like getting my outfit together, eating my same meal at Bravos, and the like.  I got in bed at 9am and the next thing I knew the alarm was going off!!

Hubby aka biggest supporter drove me out to the North Shore and we arrived at the pitch black park nice and early.  The race started at Kaiakea Beach Park and it was so calming compared to the craziness of the 20,000 of the Honolulu Marathon with all its pomp and circumstance.  No gun sounded off but when the crowd began to move I turned on my little flash light and got going.

The first part of the race is 1.5 laps around Haleiwa Town.  It was dark, quiet and peaceful. J took off at a quick pace and I stayed as close to her as I could.  By the 2nd lap I decided to hold a slower pace and ran at about a 9:30 mile. As we ran out of Haleiwa and out toward Waialua I was feeling pretty good and able to stay on pace.  My goal for the entire marathon was to stay under 10:17 pace so that I could hit a 4:30 time.  So far, so good.

At Waialua we had to take the street before the Highschool and run up a hill through residential.  Not what I was expecting but it was nice to see the beautiful plantation homes, one even with a cute old dog lounging outside the with no leash, no gate.  It totally reinforced my love for the little old town and made the hill work go by easily.

The next portion of the race was just Farrington Highway with nothing much to look at.  Just miles of road and a few homes on large lots.  A dream of mine is to live out there like that some day and it was nice to be able to see the houses in slow motion as opposed to flying by them in the car.  At this point I was having a lot of conversations with myself in my head.  Just me, myself, and the highway.  Lucky for me I am slightly neurotic and have no problems talking to myself.  My pace was at about a 9:45 by this point but I was feeling good about staying below 10:17.

The next few miles were tough but it was nice to see familiar areas that we'd drive past a lot as kids.  I kept looking for landmarks that would let me know I was nearing the turn around at Ka'ena Point.  Dillingham Lodge, the Polo Fields, Dillingham airfield and finally Camp Erdman.  The end was near...but where?  To be honest, I had never ever driven out all the way to Ka'ena Point!  It's so far away that I have never ever gone out there.  It was such a challenge to stay focused with myself to make it.

At about mile 16 an elderly man came up to me and wanted to talk story. If you know me, I don't enjoy talking while I run--at least not small talk and I couldn't figure out whether I was going to try and push ahead and ditch him or fall back.  I didn't have the energy to ditch him so I was stuck running with him.  At about mile 17 we ascended the hill and neared Ka'ena Point.  This is when I saw J again and she was running strong.  I was so proud of her!!!  After going down the little hill I saw Ka'ena Point but was too distracted by all the damn mud that I couldn't take in the scenery (will have to go back).  I did see that there were a lot of people fishing but that was about it.  The mud was everywhere and my pink shoes were going to be thrashed!!  awwww always the Fashionista, even when struggling at mile 18.

Mile 18 was the marker for major burn out for me during the Honolulu Marathon.  It was the point that I wanted to cry and quit so I was surprised to see that I was mentally ok as I began heading back to the Finish Line.  I knew that I was over half way done and had only single digits to go.  With renewed vigor I pushed on.

At this point the rain was falling off and on but not so bad that it was unbearable.  In fact it was welcomed as it kept me cool.  I had been worried about the weather all week long.  The vog had been bad all week causing breathing issues and humidity, then we had news of a possible thunder storm and flash flood.  But the weather was cool, the air clean, and the rain gentle. I was sure the Marathon Gods were watching over me!!

Miles 18-22 went well.  At mile 22 I began to feel aches and pains in my knees and I had to slow down a bit.  I willed myself to keep my pace below an 11 minute mile so that my average pace would stay below 10:17, the magic number.  A lot of mantras were shouted in my head reminders about how strong I was, how much I have trained, how much I wanted this.  They kept me going.

At mile 24, the marathon gods once again gifted me, this in the form of a great laugh.  An older man was sitting outside his house cheering everyone on and he shouted at me, "Come on little sister, you're doing great, your mom will be so proud of you!!!"  It was refreshing and hilarious to know that at mile 24 I did not at all look my 40, almost 41 (in one month) years and the laugh propelled me forward.

As I passed Wailua High and Intermediate I could taste the end.  Just a jaunt through Waialua and we'd be in Haleiwa!  The police on Special Duty were awesome at this point, cheering us on and keeping me going.  A look at my watch told me that if I could keep the 10 minute pace I would be rocking a new PR.

As I got into Haleiwa I poured it on.  I asked myself how bad I wanted it and the answer was loud and clear.  Time to burn, burn it.  I passed many people in that last mile and as I neared the beach park entrance I went full throttle.  Entering the park I could see the Finish Like.  Looking at my watch I knew I was there.  I ran as hard as I could and as I made the turn to the end line there was my family and friends.  My hubby, J, Danni and Noah.

Danni yelled for me and I signalled for her to come run with me.  She sprinted forward and I grabbed her hand.  Together we sprinted through the chute and to a fantastic PR for mommy.  It was one of the best and proudest moments of my 40 and 11 month old life.

This experience has taught me so much about myself.  In 2013 I have run 5 races and I have set a new PR in each race.  I have learned that hard work can get me to the goals that I want.  I have learned that my body is becoming as strong as my mind.  It is the most rewarding feeling ever.

I am also excited about the effects my running has had on my family.  We're running our first family race in two weeks and we have been training together.  Danni is a natural runner and has no problem. Noah who hates to run is asking to go on training runs.  The kids have been asking about marathons and want to do one one day...the same way my dad's completed marathons inspired me to want to do one too.

Running has changed my life in a million ways and I am so thankful for all the gifts it has given to me and a new outlook on life.

Grateful running van mommy.