tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64284821137548948062024-02-19T10:00:02.523-05:00RunLikeAGirlHow Strong Women Make Happy LivesRunLikeAGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15654268860856907306noreply@blogger.comBlogger130125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428482113754894806.post-75931845651905204182012-09-11T16:37:00.000-04:002012-09-11T16:37:04.950-04:00What’s it Worth to You to Dope for the Tour de France?
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As if I wasn’t
already thinking about <a href="http://www.lancearmstrong.com/">Lance</a>…Armstrong,
that is (because who has not given at least one nanosecond of thought to the
current swirl of events around cycling’s icon for the last many years); I was
reading Gillian Flynn’s <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Gone-Girl-Novel-Gillian-Flynn/dp/030758836X/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1347373145&sr=1-1&keywords=gone+girl+gillian+flynn">Gone
Girl</a></i> over the weekend, in which the male protagonist prefers to go by
his middle name, Nick, instead of his first name, Lance, because the latter
sounds too slick, entitled and, yes, untrustworthy; an apt coincidence given
Lance A’s situation. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
Until yesterday, I hadn’t given too much
thought to what I actually thought-thought about The Lance Events. My conversations on the topic tended to the
anodyne agreement with others, “yes, I think he probably was doping” and “yes, the
zeal of the investigation seems extreme, but…” And so on. But then in the way ideas have of coming upon
us suddenly, apropos of nothing, I had this series of thoughts about The Lance
Events, which pertain not so much to Lance, the individual, but to sports in
general and why we participate in them and what “sport” is about. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
So here goes:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
I am disappointed,
though not surprised, to learn that Lance may well have doped.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
I think it’s true,
too, that the investigation into allegations against him was a bit of a
witch-hunt. Although I think the more
apt description would be of the restive ruling classes toppling a too-popular king
(throw in a little French history in honour of the Tour de F), not ignorant
citizens chasing after older, single women with the gift of healing (what
witch-hunts usually entailed). Whether
or not the investigation was more zealous than others is both beside the point
and understandable. Lance has been the
standard bearer for cycling and it would be wrong to allow a cheater to
maintain that status. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
The more important
question, to my mind, is what is the world of cycling actually doing about the
rampant doping in the sport? More
testing? Harsher after-the-fact individual
sanctions? Those measures aren’t nearly
enough, because they do not get to the heart of the matter. Why do cyclists dope? What is at stake? And the answer is, as is so often the case,
money. Lance is not some poor cyclist,
carrying his bike down five flights of stairs from his mean garret every
morning to hit the streets rain or shine in whatever second-hand gear he can
scrape together. No, he is a
super-endorsed athlete, training with the best of the best of everything, not
to mention living a storybook lifestyle.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
To be at the top
of cycling is to enjoy the trappings of the endorsements that come with
it. Sport is big money. No wonder athletes cheat. After all, as we’ve seen, cheating is rampant
in the financial world, too. The Tour de
France has become a major media event, a spectacle that commands big
advertising budgets (it’s not the Superbowl, but still…). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
So I have two
proposals.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
First, if <i>any</i> cyclist riding in the Tour de France
gets caught doping next year, then the Tour de France will be cancelled for
2014. Oh yes, I am aware that’s an
extreme proposal, but the sport is dirty.
Not every cyclist, but far too many.
Unless there are real sanctions that matter beyond the individual; who
can always “redeem” themselves with a tell-all book, salacious television
interviews and maybe even a reality show; change will not happen. Where’s the incentive to the whole sport to
get itself clean? (And this reasoning
extends to other sports, of course).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
Second, the money
issue needs to be tackled. And I’ll
provide a spoiler alert here—I am going to get socialist on you. I’ve been reading E. F. Schumacher’s 1970’s classic,
<i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Small-Beautiful-Economics-People-Mattered/dp/0061997765/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1347395696&sr=1-1&keywords=small+is+beautiful+by+e.f.+schumacher">Small
is Beautiful</a></i>, a thought provoking look at the dehumanizing effect of
much economic theory. Cyclists (not just
cyclists, people, many people) cheat because money is at stake, because if they
don’t win, they don’t earn the livelihood they need. And the winners, like Lance, need their
competition. They need other cyclists
who are top-tier athletes to keep the races interesting. Yet many of those cyclists are not earning
enough and/or the gap between what they earn and what the Lances earns is so
large, that it is hard to be immune from the temptation to cheat. Because if they could just win, then…The
solution is to shrink the gap, to spread the wealth, as it were (I warned you!),
to acknowledge that cycling needs all its athletes, not just the winners. All cyclists earning above a certain amount
should be required to tithe (a church concept of donating 10% of one’s wealth—and
no, I’m not endorsing religion, only the charitable impulse, of which Lance, by
the way, is a great example), or contribute some other percentage to their
respective national cycling federation and the applicable international cycling
body, which money will go into a general pool, then distributed out in some
fairly apportioned fashion to the athletes who participate in events throughout
the year. By “earning,” I mean
everything they earn by virtue of the fact that they are a successful cyclist.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
Of course, I
recognize that there are many parameters that need precise definition in this
proposal. It is the bones of the idea I’m
throwing out for your consideration—that cheating risks the sport, not just
self; and that winning and succeeding financially wins for the sport, not just
for self. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
After all, isn’t
that what sport is supposed to be about?—a forum to which we bring the physical
manifestation of our highest selves, in competition with other worthy
opponents. Isn’t that what the Greeks
and Romans were after with sport? Sport is
about the purity of the physical pursuit, and yes, about winning, but not just for
the money (and for the dubious privilege of appearing in advertisements
purporting to adore some watch or shoe or some hyper-scientized sports drink), but
also for the love of the sport. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
My proposal both
ensures a clean sport and a high level of competition. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
Cycling is a
beautiful sport at risk of sinking under the weight of its own dirt. I propose we not let that happen.<o:p></o:p></div>
<!--EndFragment-->RunLikeAGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15654268860856907306noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428482113754894806.post-4183210099649435432012-08-28T09:02:00.002-04:002012-08-28T09:02:32.228-04:00Beach ReadingAs the last weekend of summer approaches, I wanted to offer up a Labour Day weekend beach read to everyone. <a href="http://www.minasamuels.com/CastlePeak.pdf" target="_blank">Castle Peak</a> is an RLAG flavoured, outdoorsy short story I wrote recently as an updated, woman's homage to Jack London's 1908 story, <a href="http://www.jacklondons.net/buildafire.html" target="_blank">To Build a Fire</a>. <br />
<br />
Hope you enjoy!<br />
<br />
And apologies to anyone who got this twice--via blog and FB, just trying to cover my bases.RunLikeAGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15654268860856907306noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428482113754894806.post-72643992398070593582012-08-16T16:17:00.000-04:002012-08-16T16:17:18.660-04:00The Fear Factor<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuwHh7JlE2CWW3DHnb8LLQC-K1KI9MEy75uk9z0kl4m_-eJ69IwHpYwiHU4RArCzOrOxm8OlZf6QF4TOASt0z0-eMIN-TQmIFv9FpnsEJm0KeHWEoK-mdR1vHPhA9Flbz1Ir7b_WBakso/s1600/Rebecca+Rusch+Leadville+2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuwHh7JlE2CWW3DHnb8LLQC-K1KI9MEy75uk9z0kl4m_-eJ69IwHpYwiHU4RArCzOrOxm8OlZf6QF4TOASt0z0-eMIN-TQmIFv9FpnsEJm0KeHWEoK-mdR1vHPhA9Flbz1Ir7b_WBakso/s320/Rebecca+Rusch+Leadville+2012.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div>
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
My mountain bike
and I have been getting more closely acquainted lately, and I think I can say
that we are becoming friends in a way we never were before. This morning, as my bike slipped sideways in
some sand on a steep-ish downhill, I thought to myself, my bike really wants to
stay upright, I just have to get out of the way of my bike’s heart-desire. Oh yes, a mountain bike deserves
anthropomorphization. I’m not 100% sure
where my Rocky Mountain Oxygen’s heart is, but I know it’s there, even when I’m
crashing sideways, adding to the colour-burst of bruises across my bum. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
My renewed
interest was partly fueled by knowing I was headed to Leadville, CO, to support
my brother in the <a href="http://www.leadvilleraceseries.com/page/show/315773-100-mile-mtb-race">Leadville
100 Mountain Bike Race</a> this past Saturday, and by riding with him in the
week leading up to the race. I suppose I
should clarify that me riding with my brother is really more me straggling some
great distance behind, sometimes on my bike and sometimes off my bike, while he
gets lovely rests to enjoy the scenery, the dense mountains, the high altitude
meadows and, most special to the area we were riding, the Aspen forests, the
trees’ brilliant white trunks, so straight and narrow, creating a dappled,
dream-world maze. Oh the places we can
go… <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
Let me pause here
for a short shout out to one of the women of RLAG—<a href="http://www.rebeccarusch.com/">Rebecca Rusch</a>—who rode phenomenally well
in the Leadville race and flew over the finish line in a course record time for
women (beating her own course record by more than 4 minutes). I snapped the pic above of her as she was making
final preparations for the race start. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
Watching Rebecca,
my brother, oh and also <a href="http://mrunslikeagirl.blogspot.com/2011/02/part-i-weve-come-long-way-baby.html">Nicole
DeBoom</a>, the founder of <a href="http://skirtsports.reachlocal.net/">Skirt
Sports</a>’ husband, Tim, and all the other superb riders was inspiration, but
not, it turns out, quite enough to quell my fear. The day following the race I woke up early,
revved up by my spectation (I know—neologism, because it’s just the right word)
the day before. I decided to ride some
trails I’d already ridden on our CO sojourn, eager to see how I would do the
second time out on them. Well…the up was
all well and good, but on the second part of the down all my newfound
enthusiasm went on strike. A trail I had
ridden without much trouble two days earlier loomed up ahead of me in the most
terrifying manner. What had seemed
straightforward 48 hours before became squirrely and scary. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Now, I knew, knew,
knew that I could ride the trail much better than I was. Yet I could not. I knew, knew, knew that the fear was in my
head and if I could just let it dissipate, then all would be well. Easier said than done. In the end, I settled on being fascinated by
the power of my mind to obstruct. Back
here in Truckee, CA, on the more familiar trails I ride, I’ve been noticing
more sharply where I’m letting things get easier and where I’m still blocking
myself. Because it is amazing how one
day, two big fat rocks seem too close together to ride between, and the next
day the gap has widened to a comfortable, slip-through space. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Isn’t that just
the way of all things in life? The
biggest obstruction to anything I want to do (you want to do) is fear. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
Which brings me
around to the <a href="http://www.spartanrace.com/">Spartan Race</a>—one of the
premier obstacle course race series (similar to the <a href="http://toughmudder.com/">Tough Mudder</a>—<a href="http://mrunslikeagirl.blogspot.com/2012/05/how-to-get-inside-my-mind.html">which
I wrote about a few months ago</a>). I
recently spoke to a couple of organizers involved with the race and three of
the top women participants in the race series.
The race tag line, “You’ll know at the finish line,” succinctly captures
the spirit of a race that presents different challenges every time. Obstacles are kept secret from racers until
they are in the midst of the course. So
although veterans can guess at what they may face, the precise blend of
obstacles and order will never be certain.
The race aims to make the racer a better person when they cross the
finish line—by facing their fears and overcoming the obstacles thrown at them;
which brings the Spartan race goal back around to my earlier observations about
mountain biking as life. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
The Spartan has a
special focus on increasing women’s participation—hurrah! They call it the Spartan Chick’d program and
it includes a closed network on Facebook with more than 5000 women. The program is working. Whereas a typical road race might have as
many as 60% women, in 2011 the Spartan racers were only 25% women. In 2012, thanks to their concerted effort to
encourage women to give it a go, the race has closer to 35% women now. And true to their goal, Spartan’s women are
changing. Here’s what I learned from
three of the top-placing women. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
Margaret
Schlachter has always had sports in her life, but for her the Spartan
experience “helps unlock an extra piece of ourselves.” In her case that’s meant that a month before
her 29<sup>th</sup> birthday, she quit her day job working in Admissions and
College Placement, as well as coaching a few sports at Killington Mountain
School, and is devoting herself full time to the risky proposition of depending
on race sponsors, writing her blog <a href="http://dirtinyourskirt.com/">Dirt in
Your Skirt</a>, and helping other women get active through her coaching
programs.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
For Andi Jory
Hardy, the Spartan race tipped the scales at a turning point in her life. Summer 2011, her marriage was in trouble,
the private school she had started was struggling financially, as so many new
ventures, and she had to close her dream down.
And 16 knee surgeries had scared her into a sedentary lifestyle. But enough was enough for Andi, she decided
it was time to eat healthier and get some exercise and after doing triathlon in
October, she signed up for a “little” mud run.
Famous last words. She hasn’t
looked back. So far her knees are
holding up, but, as Andi says, she never knows when her racing days could be
over. In the meantime, she’s in the best
shape of her life at 43; she’s inspiring women of all ages at the races she
participates in, and the racing has given her renewed energy for her teaching
job with special needs children. The
kids love learning about her training and applying the same principles in their
own goals of conquering reading and other scary subjects. That feeling of being up against wall in her
life is gone. Andi is happy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ArPYSWkEpQ4">Ella Kociuba</a> aspires to
be the “face of” Spartan racing.
Although only 18 years old, she’s had way more than her share of
obstacles, and that’s before she got hooked on Spartans. When she was 13 years old, a horseback riding
accident, aggravated significantly by a birth defect in which her spine was not
connected to her sacrum, resulted in a broken back. Four metal rods and screws, and a year and a
half later, Ella was back on her feet and running, even if it was painful;
okay, very painful. For someone with
every reason to blame the physical for any setbacks, Ella still firmly believes
that the first thing to break down is the mind and for her the racing is an
opportunity to touch her limits, something she finds “very intriguing;” fostering
a toughness that will, no doubt, come in handy as life unfolds. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
Whether it’s
mountain biking, or the Spartan, or something else that tweaks your fear
factor, take a moment to notice the way your mind can seize up, cramped with
fear, or, alternatively, open up the space between two rocks, so that you have
just enough room to pass through on the way to your future. <o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
RunLikeAGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15654268860856907306noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428482113754894806.post-61391366790423516672012-05-08T17:31:00.000-04:002012-05-08T17:31:38.401-04:00How to Get Inside My Mind<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 15.0pt;">This past Sunday I paid money for the opportunity
to plunge into a pool of icy water and swim under a wall that divided the pool
in half; and I don’t just mean ice cold, I mean water thick with a deep layer
of floating ice cubes cozying up against one another (better suited to the
inside of a martini shaker), so that when I, in my panic, tried to surface, it
felt as if the ice cubes were pressing down on top of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was participating in the Mt. Snow iteration
of the latest “physical challenge event” phenomenon—a <a href="http://toughmudder.com/about/">Tough Mudder</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 15.0pt;">An event ostensibly designed by the British
Military, this particular Tough Mudder involved 10 miles of running, much of it
up or down the steep mountain side of Mt. Snow, very often in mid-calf mud,
hiding treacherous rocks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The running
though is almost incidental to the event (and it’s running to be reckoned with),
which also includes in the neighbourhood of 30 “obstacles.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I lost count somewhere along the way and, in
any event, didn’t even know if some obstacles were official, or just part of
the terrain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The obstacles included the
above mentioned dumpster ice bath, crawling on your belly under barbed wire,
crawling on your belly in muddy water beneath live electrical wires, crawling
on your belly through underground tunnels and then again through metal culvert
tunnels partially immersed in water (you’re seeing the military theme by now),
slithering sloth-like across a cable suspended just above icy water, traversing
monkey bars above icy water, walking a narrow balance beam across a pool of icy
water, and jumping off high ledges into…yes, more heart-stoppingly icy
water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bit where we ran through
smoke and jumped over fire was actually a welcome relief from the cold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was also Vermont in early May, I might
add, meaning it wasn’t exactly hot weather to begin with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then there were the obligatory walls to
scale, and the grand finale involved more live electrical wire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hoo-rah, as many of the participants might
say.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 15.0pt;">The event is not a race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A point emphasized by the organizers and
supported by an environment that prizes collaboration over speed, and gamely
good attitude over finish time, and that’s all to the good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The event is about facing down your fears and
staying strong in the jaws of exhaustion…and having fun (lest we forget!)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 15.0pt;">Well…I am a good swimmer, but very fearful of cold
water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not a fan of that feeling of
suffocation that sets in when I’m immersed in too-cold water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh yes, I’m sure with a mad amount of
training, I could learn, if not to love, then not to fear that feeling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But how unpleasant would all that training
be, and to what end?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These were the
questions I asked myself, as I’d just settle into enjoying all the belly-crawling
and, of course, running up and down steep hills (which I truly love), when
another icy water obstacle would loom on the horizon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>WTF?—Again?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 15.0pt;">I can do it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>By now I know I can.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And by “it”
I mean plunge into icy water when necessary (or even when it’s an unnecessary
event I’ve signed up for).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The question
is, why? There are things we must do in life; and there are even things that
are very good preparation for the things we must do in life, or for making the
most of our life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyone who has read a
bit about my thinking, knows that I think sports is one of the most efficient
and efficacious ways to train in a microcosm of life’s challenges and get
invaluable glimpses into how much more we are capable of than we believe.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 15.0pt;">I agree with the general theory that it is a good
thing for us to face our fears in some fashion, and that in so doing we
strengthen our spirit (and possibly our bodies).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I agree, too, with the general theory that if
we never challenge ourselves (which necessarily involves facing some version of
fear, be it fear of a concrete thing, like cold water, or fear of failure),
then we will cease to grow; that true engagement in the world demands of us a
willingness, even a desire, to greet and even seek out challenges.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 15.0pt;">The question the Tough Mudder posed for me was what
challenges ought we to seek out simply for the sake of training our fear?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And where does enjoyment fit in?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is a challenge a challenge, or is fear really
fear, if the thing we fear ultimately turns out to be fun?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To that I’d answer a resounding yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact that’s the point, I think, to love
challenge, to find joy in engagement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I,
for example, will be sleepless before an ultra-marathon, terrified I can’t
finish or that I’ll hurt myself on the mountain or that the pain in general
might be too much, but I also thrive on that fear and am all the more thrilled
when I do finish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were many at the
Tough Mudder who loved the challenges and derived huge pleasure from the whole
event.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My compatriot throughout the event
was an energetic, inspiring woman, and the group I attended the race with
(including a dear friend) were wonderful spirits and I felt lucky to be among
them, so for all that, and for having experienced the event, I am glad I
participated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But…I don’t think I would
do it again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve proved to myself I can
do it, and once was enough for that in this particular case.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 15.0pt;">A little more than a month ago now I took on a
challenge at the opposite end of the spectrum, far from the Hoo-rah and
aggressive physicality of Sunday, but one which incited at least as much
advance trepidation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I went on a week long
silent meditation retreat at the <a href="http://www.dharma.org/">Insight
Meditation Society</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In addition to
the obvious, no talking, there was also no reading and no writing, and of
course no music, no movies, no television, no computer, no nothing really,
except me, and the inside of my mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Nor did I run, though once there I discovered that I might have. I went
for a vigorous walk everyday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 15.0pt;">At the Tough Mudder, the intense externally generated
focus of the physical activity forces you into the moment, that much vaunted
“moment” we are often counseled to live in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When we are fully committed to the activity, when we have reached the
point of casting aside self-doubt and fear, then taking action, doing, may
clear away the clutter of our minds and still the chatter, leaving only the
glorious feeling of our body in motion, followed by the satisfaction of
accomplishment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 15.0pt;">An extended period of silence and meditation on the
other hand, approaches the same goal from stillness, from an internally generated
focus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And for me, generating the
mindfulness that enables me to catch glimpses, to touch, even briefly, the radiant
expansiveness of a clear mind, is at least as difficult as jumping in an ice
bath.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seven days alone with the contents
of my head and I sometimes felt like my mind and I were barely on speaking
terms anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So much muck was in
there, roiling around, vying for <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>my attention,
trying to shade reality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But sometimes,
for the blink of an eye, a pause would occur between the thoughts, the mud
would settle, and there, for an instant, would be clarity, a feeling like
turning myself inside out and immersing myself in a mild effervescence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 15.0pt;">I’m not sure which I prefer—a challenging physical
activity that places me face to face with my own self, or the inward looking
stillness of the meditation cushion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Both have their place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For me,
they are complementary, nourishing each other’s efforts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 15.0pt;">What do you think?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->RunLikeAGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15654268860856907306noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428482113754894806.post-87530496257455852692012-03-05T17:36:00.002-05:002012-03-05T17:41:14.714-05:00Yoga Mirror<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:relyonvml/> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:donotpromoteqf/> <w:lidthemeother>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:lidthemeasian>JA</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:lidthemecomplexscript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> 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mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">I tried out a new yoga studio the other day.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Good girl, getting out of my studio rut.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Oh no—mirrors—on two walls, no less.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Inescapable.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I am partial to the notion that our alignment in yoga ought to come from the inside, from learning to feel when we are correctly aligned, with, of course, lots of help from the hands on adjustments I so love.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I tried not to look.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Unsuccessfully.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Was that really my standing split?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>My pyramid pose? <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Gumby, I am not.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I know that.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’m not naturally stretchy; and I’m even less flexible once you add in the compounding factors of running and old hamstring injuries.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>But that hasn’t discouraged me from doing yoga for the last 18 years and, at least in my mind, I’ve started to understand the poses from the inside out.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>There are some days in yoga when I feel strong and aligned and, yes, as if I’ve captured some of the grace of the practice in my pose.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Then I looked in the mirror.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>What I saw was how high my leg did not go in standing split (my poor hamstrings doth protest too much).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>How my upper body didn’t go past 90 degrees, as I bent toward my legs in pyramid pose (more hamstring chatter).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>My leg felt higher.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>My upper body felt closer to my legs.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>In my mind.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Because here’s the thing: inside of me, I was doing those poses to the highest level of excellence possible for me.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>But the mirror seemed to be telling me a different story, one that got me a little down.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Later that same day, I was having a conversation with a friend and mentioned that I’d had a big reality check in yoga that day.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Here I thought maybe my practice was deepening, and instead I looked like a beginner.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I get beginner mind.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>That’s one thing.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>But, beginner body?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>How deflating.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">You’re so judgmental, my friend said.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Where’s your humility?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">What?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Who?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Me?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Not humble?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Wasn’t I just being self-critical?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Isn’t that humble?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Turns out…not so much.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">As my friend so wisely pointed out, who was I to judge what was excellence in my yoga practice?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>My ego, the judge, was arrogant enough to think it knew better than my body what was right and good for me.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Where did my ego get off questioning that little piece of the divine that’s in me, in all of us, that part of us that strives for excellence, that strives to find the perfect balance between all that we are and all that we’re capable of.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Where indeed?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I guess it’s an ego, so we don’t look to it for humility.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Who or what knows better—a mirror, or what my body is telling me it feels about my effort?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">My experience with the mirror in yoga was, of course, an object lesson in how ill equipped we are to judge others on appearances.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I had all the information about the woman I was seeing in the mirror, and still she fell short of where I thought she ought to be.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Imagine how far wrong we can go when we have only the barest sliver of information about other people?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">The grace of my practice comes from inside me and cannot be judged based on how closely I resemble a photo spread of, say, Christy Turlington, in Yoga Journal. I'll let you take the next step and apply that same idea to judging other's efforts in yoga and in life.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; line-height: normal; "> </span></p>RunLikeAGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15654268860856907306noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428482113754894806.post-2158947383154542852012-02-01T13:22:00.004-05:002012-02-01T13:29:52.531-05:00Cape Town's Peaks<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:donotpromoteqf/> <w:lidthemeother>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:lidthemeasian>JA</w:LidThemeAsian> 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Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">4:30 a.m.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Dark.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Spitting rain.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Cold.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>At least colder than I feel like it ought to be in South Africa’s summertime.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We are barreling down the coast road from Llandudno, a seaside suburb of Cape Town, to the central market square, in my ex-pat friend’s pick-up truck.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We’re cutting it fine to get to the 5 a.m. starting line for the <a href="http://www.hikecapetown.co.za/3Peaks/3peaksHistory.htm">Three Peaks Challenge</a>, a race that defines the South African running sensibility—grueling fun in a gorgeous setting…oh, and if you’re not from here, well you better get familiar with the terrain, because there’s no course map, no actual “course” per se, only checkpoints. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">In 1897, so the story goes, with nothing better to do that day, Carl Wilhelm Schneeberger decided to hike up all three peaks, which preside over Cape Town:<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Devil’s Peak, pointed as a wizard’s hat; Table Mountain, flat and fit for a banquet of the gods; Lion’s Head, the curl of the creature’s mane flowing down its back.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>In between each peak, he returned to the Old Johannesburg Hotel in Long Street to rest.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>A friend assisted at the occasion, timing the event for posterity.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Possibly more posterity than CWS imagined.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>In 1927 and again in 1977, two others improved on CWS’s time and in 1997, Don Hartley, who had had an itch to take up the challenge for some 35 years, decided to scratch the itch in an official manner.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>So was born the Three Peaks Challenge, still run by Don Hartley, now assisted by Gavin Snell. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">The challenge is to make our way, via whatever we think is the fastest route, up to the top of each of the three peaks.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The object is to scale each peak and return to the Greenmarket Square in between each ascent; a task which sounds benign, until I see the steepness of the roads, and the roads are supposed to be the easy part.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>For each leg of the race there are checkpoints at the market square, near the base of the main trail up the peak (which may lead to many other possible trails) and on the peak.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>As we pass through each of the waypoints, our bibs are marked with rune-like scratchings, confirming the integrity of our race.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">I am clueless about Cape Town geography.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Luckily I have my friend, India as a guide and companion.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>A devout runner (are there non-devout runners in SA?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>If so, I haven’t met them), she lives in Cape Town, and did the race the year before, not to mention that the peaks are her running backyard.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">At the starting line we’re bundled up against the chill and misting rain.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I have on a tank top, a long sleeve shirt and a jacket, not to mention my peaked cap against the hoped-for sunshine.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>My bare legs would be happier in tights, a clothing choice others have made, but I’m banking on daylight bringing some warmth.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Only 120 runners get into the race each year, 60 new and 60 veterans.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Not all veterans are created equal either.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Pale blue bibs indicate runners who have earned a permanent number, by completing the challenge 5 times.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Orange bibs are the runners at 4 complete, going for the blue.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">At 5 a.m. we aren’t the only people on the street.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The clubbing crowd is winding down and they stand on the sidewalk, swaying gently, smoking cigarettes and staring at us.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The start is collegial, in the way trail races are, at least in my experience, runners happy to be together, simultaneously relaxed and fired, chatting, with the added panache (to my Canadian ears) of the purring South African intonations.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">The race starts without hoo-ha, and off we go.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Within only a few blocks runners have branched off in different directions, following whatever theory they subscribe to:<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>longer distance and shallower climbs, or shorter distance and steeper climbs.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The latter is India’s philosophy, so in no time we’re headed straight up.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I can’t tell you exactly what route we followed. I know it involved some trail-stairs past someone’s meticulous, newly planted vegetable garden and barking dog, and then up a steep, gravelly, dirt road to Tafelberg Road, which snakes around the base of the peaks.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We can see the blinking headlamps of other runners far off to our left, taking a different route up to the mountain trails. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Light seeps in around us, grey and misty.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>After the first checkpoint, we start up the official trail, or more accurately, trails, which zigzag up Devil’s Peak.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Dashes of red, blue, electric yellow and green spread across the mountainside, as runners fan out to their favoured routes.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The mountain curves around us, like a giant coliseum, then nudges up against Table Mountain.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Grey-green scrub bushes create the illusion of a soft blanket, pulled up to the mountain’s chin, above which the rock is dark and scrape-y and sharp looking.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>About three-quarters of the way up, the leaders come flying down the trails around us, with that gaspingly, sure-footed agility the best of the trail runners have.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Not I. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">The peak is cold and windy.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We miscue and end up on a different trail on our way down, the low shrubs scraping along our legs like five o’clock shadow.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The damp trails are slick and treacherous.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Back through the checkpoint, and down to the market square.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Some people say that down is worse than up.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>To each her own.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Without taking a position on that particular issue, I can say that there is no respite on this course, save the few moments of relative flat along the mountain road, which last less time than it takes to recover from an ascent or descent.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">There is really only one trail up Table Mountain, unless you elect to do some serious scrambling.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We don’t.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The thigh high steps up are challenge enough.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The addition of chicken wire covering some of the rock, misted with rain, adds an extra zing to the experience.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>If you don’t catch your foot on a rock, you can always get it tangled in some chicken wire.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>There are regular hikers on the trail, too.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Girls in thin white sneakers and tight jeans.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Mascara and eyeliner.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Boys in jeans held up by belts midway down their boxers.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Children who look to be 6 years old follow older siblings.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Young couples stop for hand-holding breaks, making way for our flow of scientifically clad participants in numbered bibs.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">I can’t decide if I’m impressed by the apparent unpreparedness of so many of the hikers, or if it makes me feel diminished somehow.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>After all, if they can climb up Table Mountain, what’s the big deal in me doing it?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Except, I suppose, that I’m going at speed (well, perhaps not speed, but moving determinedly), without breaks; and Table Mountain is number two and three is coming.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>And in any case, why can’t I own the sturdiness of my accomplishment and the hikers’? <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>What they do and I do are not mutually exclusive. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Nor is it even a competition, except inside my mind, which likes to insert itself into the wide-open expanse of a long, long race.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>But I have India to talk to, and we haven’t seen each other in a while, so my mind doesn’t get as much of an opportunity as it would like to mess with me.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">The top of Table Mountain is blowing like crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>If it were raining, it would be raining sideways. Luckily it’s not.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Though not for lack of trying.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The air is dense with chill humidity.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>From below we had seen that there was a tablecloth today—what CapeTownians call the swath of clouds that often hovers atop Table Mountain, draping over the edges like fine linen.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Any view is completely obscured by the mist.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I put on my gloves and re-don my jacket, which I’d been happy to shed at the bottom of Devil’s Peak.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The checkpoint is friendly, despite the less than ideal conditions they’re waiting in for us.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">India is crazy for the potatoes with salt and butter they’re serving.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I stick to my peanut butter and jam sandwich, cut up into tiny pieces—and yes, I’m that obsessive that I brought my own from New York, from my favourite PB, right down to the particular kind of multigrain bread I like.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">The bad weather seems to lift as we head back down Table Mountain. Cape Town is spread out below us, grids of buildings and roads, cozying up right up to the edge of the sea.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>And by the time we’re heading back up, for a third time, out of the market square, I’ve stripped down to my tank top.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">An aside, one lovely benefit of passing through the start/finish twice, is that it’s located at an Inn, with, yes, clean bathrooms.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>A special treat I avail myself of both times through.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Not to mention that I can refill my camelback with water in my gear bag, and load up on more food, if I’m running short.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>India uses passing through the market square to do a complete change of all her layers of shirts.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">The route we take to Lion’s Head passes by the German School, where they are having a huge fair the day of the race. Cars backed up trying to get into the parking lot and double-parked along the streets.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Did I mention that the roads are not closed to traffic?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>One of the many extra little challenges is navigating the ever-increasing traffic as the day blooms into a full-fledged downtown Saturday.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>There’s nothing quite like trying to sprint through traffic seven hours into a run.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>And, in my case, deal with the fact that cars aren’t coming from the expected directions—a task that overtaxes my brain late in the race, so that I look like a chicken at every intersection, turning my head back and forth, back and forth, back and forth to verify I’m clear to cross.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Since we are still operating on the shortest, steepest philosophy, the top of Lion’s Head involves chains and ladders.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I don’t have a fear of heights.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Luckily.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>And though India tells me a long story about a teenage girl she brought up here on a hike, who fell down the side of the mountain about 30 feet and fractured her arm, I manage to perform the contortionistic mental feat of believing that kind of thing will only happen to other people.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Instead, I wonder if the runner behind me has ever had the opportunity to look up another runner’s skirt in an ultra marathon before, even if it’s all very modest and there’s nothing to see.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’m the only woman wearing a skirt (and none of the men are either, which is worth adding, because you never know with the trail racing crowd, I suppose). For me, there’s something about a skirt that creates the right balance between the rugged trails and my maxed out body and psyche.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Maybe it’s the reminder than I’m not doing this race to be “one of the boys.”<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’m doing it, in some small part, as a statement of what I think femininity looks like.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">The peak affords us 360-degree eyeful of views.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I wonder if I’m disoriented, because it seems like the ocean is on every side of us.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Looking at a map later, I realize that Cape Town juts out into the ocean, like a mini boot of Italy (without the toe), so in fact, the ocean is on three sides.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>On our way down the chains and ladders, more heart stopping than the up, we encounter a runner whose leg is cramping and shaking so much, India needs to pull him over the top of the ladder he’s trying to climb.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It’s my good fortune that the rest of the trail down Lion’s Head is more benign than Devil’s Peak and Table Mountain (something I failed to notice on the way up, when the end seemed impossibly far), dusty, single track, with some rocks and steps, and sooner than I’m expecting we’re back on the road again, passing the cars jockeying for parking, through the city streets, which are, with each return, growing vaguely more familiar.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">As seems to be my penchant, I want to cry when I cross the finish line.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>And, in this case, I breathe an enormous sigh of relief, too.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Unharmed.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>By grace of the universe.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The feeling of finishing, of actually finishing such an effort overwhelms me for just a moment.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>And I get that Proustian feeling, that feeling that I am a different person in some tiny, indefinable way now, sitting on the front porch of the Inn with my friend, than I was when I sat beside her in the truck at 4:30 a.m. racing toward the starting line on the coast road. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>So that when someone’s three-year old son starts dancing around our table, I join him for a minute, shimmying on my wobbly-stiff legs, my bare feet dusty and wizened from a glorious, long day in running shoes.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">This post will appear in <a href="http://www.ultrarunning.com/">UltraRunning Magazine</a>'s April 2012 Adventure issue with photos. </p> <!--EndFragment-->RunLikeAGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15654268860856907306noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428482113754894806.post-33357182354270078822012-01-23T19:38:00.001-05:002012-01-23T19:38:58.727-05:00The Show Must Go On<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:relyonvml/> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:donotpromoteqf/> <w:lidthemeother>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:lidthemeasian>JA</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:lidthemecomplexscript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> 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0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Last week a one-woman play I wrote and performed had a two night run at the <a href="http://www.cherrylanetheatre.org/">Cherry Lane Theatre</a> in Manhattan.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It was my first effort at playwriting and acting since I was a teenager, so it was a leap of imagination, to say the least, to even think of undertaking the project.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>About a week before the show was to go on, I started to get nerve attacks at any odd moment.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>My director had upped the rehearsal intensity and, as the date got the closer, the full reality of what I was about to do flooded my nerve endings.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I was going to go up on stage and be a character I had created.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I couldn’t even blame the script on someone else.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">I cried at strange times.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Out of the blue I would be awash in an electrical nausea circulating just below my skin’s surface.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I might have thought I was having a breakdown; that I couldn’t do what I’d set out to do.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Instead, I thought, “I know this.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’ve felt it before.”<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Before big races.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>As recently as the <a href="http://www.hikecapetown.co.za/3Peaks/3peaksHistory.htm">Three Peaks Challenge</a> in Cape Town in November.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The week before an intense, new effort I’ve cried while running, so overwhelmed am I by whatever the challenge is that I’ve taken on.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’ll think, “I can’t do this.”<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’ve arrived at the starting line of marathons, of ultra-marathons and thought to myself, “I don’t know how to run.”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">But I’ve learned, over the years, that I can do it, whatever “it” is.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>That the feeling of losing control, of not being up to the task is just part of the process, part of the creation of the just the right amount of nervous energy to fire me when the time comes.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">So when I felt “that” feeling again a couple of weeks ago, as I headed into the play, it was almost like an old friend.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Uncomfortable, to be sure, but familiar.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>This was the feeling of preparedness, the feeling that it was time to go, time to go for it.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Thank you, running.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>For preparing me for all the challenges in my life.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt; line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Times"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p> <!--EndFragment-->RunLikeAGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15654268860856907306noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428482113754894806.post-68698701865665519552012-01-09T22:44:00.001-05:002012-01-09T22:45:36.940-05:00Ski 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mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">I spoke last week with Bobby Murphy, head of the Vail Ski School in Colorado, where they debuted the </span><a href="http://news.vail.vailresorts.com/article_display.cfm?article_id=1564"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Ski Girls Rock program</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">, designed by </span><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">Olympic gold medalist and World Alpine Ski Champion, Lindsey Vonn, over the December holidays.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">Lindsey’s Lessons, as Bobby referred to the program, was inspired by Lindsey’s own experience of particularly excelling at skiing as a girl when her ski mates were exclusively girls.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Not that Lindsey couldn’t give the boys a run for their money: but, as she knows from experience, sometimes it’s a lot nicer just to take the boy factor out of the equation.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Take out the boy-ballyhoo and the boy ego, which may over-fire in the face of girl strength.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">Bobby was extra supportive of the program idea, because he’d just witnessed the boy factor vs. girls’ only effect on his eight-year old daughter, Ella.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>At seven-years old, Ella had retired from soccer.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>She had played for a few years in a co-ed program and lost interest.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>As Bobby says, “it was like she wasn’t really there,” when he’d watch her on the soccer field.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The boys were more aggressive, stealing passes from her, running around her, and generally ignoring her. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>When Bobby and his wife moved to Vail, they decided to try Ella in soccer one more time.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>But this time there was an all-girls soccer program.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>“It was as if it was a different sport, or she was a different girl,” Bobby says.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Now his daughter is eager to practice her moves at home, and she’s excited to get to the soccer field.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">As Wendy Hilliard, New York City Director of the Women’s Sports Foundation’s </span><a href="http://www.womenssportsfoundation.org/home/programs/gogirlgo"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">GoGirlGo! Program</span></a><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman""> says, in terms of boys and men, the aim of the WSF’s program is to model girl strength for boys, so that they grow up in an environment where strong girls are valued, and for fathers to see and understand the impact of real access to sports (which may mean sports without boys) on their daughters.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Bobby, it turns out, is that father; and he’s already sharing his deeper understanding of his daughter’s needs with other girls, through Lindsey’s Lessons. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">An aside, I met Wendy, at a meeting with the Consul General of Colombia, Elsa Gladys Cifuentes Aranzazu, and Aurys Espinel, director of </span><a href="http://www.mujerydeportecol.com/"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">Asomujer y Deporte</span></a><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">, an organization that works on a range of issues related to empowering women through sports.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Colombia is apparently very interested in expanding and deepening the sports programs offered for girls, with the specific goal of girl and women empowerment.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>How wonderful.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I hope at some point to have more to share on that.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">In the meantime, back to Vail, CO, where the first Ski Girls Rock lessons went fabulously well.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The female instructors are clamouring for the opportunity to teach in the special environment of the program.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>That is—a small group of girls (four to an instructor maximum) between the ages of 5-15, from low intermediate to the most advanced skill levels, working on skill development and race technique in a low pressure, less-structured environment. There’s not so much standing on the side of the trail and running through race drills, as there is honing their skiing in the midst of having a good time with each other.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The social aspect, no surprise, is paramount. And if anyone thinks that the fairer sex can’t chat and excel at the same time…they can think again.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">Lindsey’s Lessons are an opportunity for the girls to be girls together, have a good time, and, oh yes, shred some, too.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>And that sounds just right.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->RunLikeAGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15654268860856907306noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428482113754894806.post-8044966532868749442011-11-15T11:49:00.000-05:002011-11-15T11:50:04.975-05:00Pedaling for the Women of Rwanda<style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Times; panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} a:link, span.MsoHyperlink {color:blue; text-decoration:underline; text-underline:single;} a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed {mso-style-noshow:yes; color:purple; text-decoration:underline; text-underline:single;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Race what you bring” is the inclusively spirited motto for the monthly races run by the Rwandan Cycling Federation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In July, Angelique Mukandekezi showed up at the race on one of the Chinese single speed bikes that are prolific around Rwanda and East Africa. Just to give you perspective, my bike, which is a pretty good bike, weighs, as I recall, since I tend not to fully absorb bike facts, in the neighbourhood of 17 pounds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Angelique’s bike weighed in at around 40 pounds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The race, at<span style="color:red"> </span></span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nyamata"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">Nyamata</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"">, drew 84 women participants (in case anyone thinks the women of Rwanda don’t want to cycle, that number should make them think again) and Angelique won the women’s field.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>True, the field was not exactly packed with top racers, but Angelique’s win drew interest from Jock Boyer at </span><a href="http://teamrwandacycling.org/"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt; line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Team Rwanda</span></a><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">, who had been paying some attention to the women’s field, wondering if he might find the right woman to add to their ever-strengthening team of men (who were profiled in a New Yorker </span><a href="http://teamrwandacycling.org/news/climbers"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">article</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman""> by Philip Gourevitch). </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">Jock brought Angelique in for a test, which basically means that she came to his house in Ruhengeri, where the team is based and trains and got on the Velotron, which essentially calculates the energy wattage output of the person riding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Angelique had the highest watts/kg ratio of any woman tested in Rwanda.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And so, in September this year, Angelique became the first woman on the team.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In October, Angelique’s first full month of training, the team paid her 30,000 Rwandan francs (approximately $50 USD) to stay out of the field (Angelique normally earns her living as a field worker) and cycle train exclusively.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>For perspective—the average annual income in Rwanda is $400 USD.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Not quite junior bond trader pay, but Angelique is making pretty good money for a 22-year-old woman in Rwanda.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">Staying out of the field means that every Monday, Angelique rides about 100 miles from Bougasera, where she lives with her parents, to Ruhengeri.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She trains Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and then makes the long ride home on Friday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">Inspired by Angelique, 24-year-old Janette Uwimana, who had been hanging around the team on and off, more on around the Tour de Kigali the last couple of years (cycling groupies aren’t only for Lance), upped her effort and has joined, too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">Being a strong woman in Rwanda is not easy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The tiny African country often feels more colonial than African, Kimberly told me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>An already very conservative ethos is overlaid with a strong Catholicism.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There’s not a lot of music.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The women still wear the traditional dress for the most part and are timid and uneducated (as are a majority of the men, too—the uneducated part, not the timid bit).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Women work the fields and have babies, while the men, in large part, hang out and drink banana beer, conserving their energy for a round of </span><a href="http://www.globalgrassroots.org/domestic_violence.html"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">spousal abuse</span></a><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman""> when their wives finish working. <span style="color:red"></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">When Angelique started at the team’s training camp, she wouldn’t look anyone in the eye.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Well that’s changing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>A few weeks on the bike, getting stronger every day, and Angelique is starting to have fun with the guys, to be part of the team. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">A couple of weeks into her training, Angelique encountered her first overt harassment on the bike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>About two and a half hours into a rainy training ride, shortly after nailing a tough, technical downhill, Angelique got a flat as they rode into a village.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Janette and Kimberly got to work on changing Angelique’s tire (something she will learn in the weeks to come).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>By the time they had finished the job, there were about 50 people hanging around, mostly young men—not unusual when Kimberly stops, since a white woman, especially on a bike, is quite a strange creature to behold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When the three women hopped on their bikes to head off, a man grabbed Angelique’s back wheel as she was clipping in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Angelique, still fighting her timidity, didn’t know how to react.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Fortunately, Kimberly had no such reservations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She screamed at the man to back off (using expletives appropriate to the situation).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He backed off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">When Angelique caught up to Kimberly she yelled, in her newly acquired English, “Thank you—Kim!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Kimberly had never heard Angelique so much as raise her voice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Later, Kimberly explained to Angelique through the interpreter that Angelique can and should say no anytime anyone touches her bike, as forcefully as she needs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Kimberly might have added, anytime anyone touches her body, but one piece of progress at a time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And perhaps, for Angelique, learning to protect her bike <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">is</i> the best initial step to learning how to protect her body.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">In her first week with the team, Kimberly had “the” conversation with Angelique.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>No getting married and having babies, if she wants to ride with the team.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Not never, but not now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Because in Rwanda, the fact that Angelique has made it this long without getting married, and is still childless at 22, is something unusual already.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She has already withstood the typical societal claims on her body for longer than many other women.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">Janette, too, is coming out of her shell, getting stronger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Against the prevalent cultural grain, or men preferring women with a nice bit of extra, Janette is losing the bit of weight she needs to shed to be stronger on the bike, improving her diet, cutting out the soda and other junk food, claiming personal control over her body, shaping it to her ends, not to what society (aka men) want.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">The next task for Angelique and Janette is to develop their competitive instinct.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>That was supposed to happen in the Rwandan National Championships on October 30<sup>th</sup>,<span style="color:red"> </span>where Kimberly was hoping that Angelique and Janette could place first and second, by working together, something they were learning in the last days before the race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Unlike the men, Angelique and Janette don’t understand yet how to be competitors on the bike and friends off the bike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In workouts, whichever of the two is lagging will cycle hard to catch up, but just that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Once they are riding together again, neither tries intentionally to outstrip or push the other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>To compete is not in the Rwandan women’s upbringing, something Kimberly hopes to change.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">Making that change is going to be hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Women’s cycling in Rwanda is not exactly top of mind, even for the Rwandan Cycling Federation, which canceled the women’s race at the National Championships at the very last minute.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Kimberly publicly complained, “I've been training these girls for the past four weeks, spent over $600 on their training, rode hundreds of miles and they are ready and wanting to race and that's it?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She went on to tell me, “I said, I was disappointed in their decision and said it wasn't right to do that to the girls and if they were going to cancel the race that it should have been done weeks ago.” </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">Undeterred, Kimberly says, “This is simply a delay.” She and Jock already have plans to put on their own women’s race in the New Year, once they’ve gotten through this hectic period of the African Continental Championships (November 8-11) and then the </span><a href="http://tourofrwanda.com/"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">Tour of Rwanda</span></a><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman""> (November 20-26).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">In the meantime, training continues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Progress, being what it is, is never a straight line.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>One week, about five weeks into Angelique’s training, she seemed to forget how to clip in and out of her pedals, cycling for miles without clipping in, and then, when she finally did, tipping over still clipped in, damaging her bike. I won’t even mention the tire changing struggles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But Kimberly will not give up on Angelique, on Janette, on the future of women cycling in Rwanda, which she sees as inextricably intertwined with the future of women in Rwanda. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">Because Team Rwanda, as you’ve guessed by now, is about more than cycling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>For the men, “we are trying to train them to be not just good cyclists, but also good men,” Kimberly says. In addition to the practice of discipline, hard work and adherence to a training schedule, learning to read and write English, for example, is part of the training camp curriculum, an invaluable skill for any advancement in Rwanda or elsewhere in Africa (or outside Africa).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Now that there are women on the team, there’s an added opportunity for the men to learn to respect their strong women counterparts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">Kimberly’s goal is to develop a field of women cyclists over the next twelve months, so that next year at least one Rwandan woman, if not more, will be competing at the </span><a href="http://www.africanccc.com/african-championships/"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: Times">African Continental Cycling Championship</span></a>, <span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">a cycling event notoriously short on women participants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">What’s good for the gander is in spades for the goose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>A survey of landscape of studies on the topic done by the </span><a href="http://www.csmonitor.com/Business/2008/0804/p14s02-wmgn.html"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">Christian Science Monitor</span></a><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman""> shows emphatically that empowering girls and women is one of the surest routes to economic and social development in a country. The fact that women may occupy political positions in government is not necessarily an indication of women’s general condition—certainly not in </span><a href="http://wfwnotesfromthefield.wordpress.com/2011/06/24/women-in-rwanda-beyond-their-high-representation-in-government/"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">Rwanda</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Women’s value and advancement needs to develop from the bottom up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>How we empower women may be through education, it may be by providing them with micro-loans, and it might just be by putting women on a bike and teaching them how to ride strong and fast for all to see and respect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">As Kimberly says, “when we ride through a village, the woman on the side of the road clap and cheer for Angelique and Janette.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I like to think that every time they see them on their bikes, they see a possible future that’s different.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Maybe it sounds pie-in-the-sky, but I think that we can change the society for women, one bike at a time.” </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">You can help that change happen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Add your voice to Kimberly’s work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Send </span><a href="http://www.teamrwandacycling.org/contact"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">Team Rwanda</span></a><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman""> (choose Kimberly as the contact person) this note:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>“I support women’s cycling in Africa and hope that Team Rwanda will develop a serious women’s team!”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman""> </span></b></p>RunLikeAGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15654268860856907306noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428482113754894806.post-4938254529535908032011-10-31T12:22:00.000-04:002011-10-31T12:23:45.076-04:00Just Quit & Just Do It<style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Times; 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margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">To find our way in life sometimes we have to just quit, and other times we have to just do it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In Kimberly Coats’ case, she did both.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">In 2008, at 42 years old, possessed of a high paying dream job as business development manager for Sysco, schmoozing the top chefs in Vegas, and generally possessed of all else we are supposed to want to “possess” in a quintessentially successful American life, a house, a car, a husband and such like, Kimberly realized that what she had was not what she wanted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She made of list of things that were important to her:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She wanted to travel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She wanted to do something that helped people, to give back to the world in a meaningful way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And she wanted to incorporate her love of cycling into that mix of travel and purpose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Around the same time, Kimberly read <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Positive Spin</i>, an article in the September 2008 issue of Outside Magazine about </span><a href="http://projectrwanda.org/welcome"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt; line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Project Rwanda</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%; font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Times">, a non-profit “</span><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">committed to furthering the economic development of Rwanda through initiatives based on the bicycle as a tool and symbol of hope.</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%; font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Times">”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>One of Project Rwanda’s main initiatives was designing and distributing at low cost special cargo bikes for the transport of coffee (one of Rwanda’s key crops).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The so-called coffee bikes significantly decreased the transport time to processing plants, so that the coffee berries were that much fresher and the resulting product that much higher quality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">The article released the proverbial bee into Kimberly’s bonnet (or cycling helmet, in her case).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Six months later, in April 2009, she was on a plane to Rwanda for a three-month volunteer stint with the project.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Volunteering turned into paid work and Kimberly got involved not only in the coffee bike work, but also with one of Project Rwanda’s other initiatives, a national cycling team, </span><a href="http://teamrwandacycling.org/"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt; line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Team Rwanda</span></a><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman""> (which was the subject of a long </span><a href="http://teamrwandacycling.org/news/climbers"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">article</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman""> by Philip Gourevitch in The New Yorker). When Kimberly’s contract with Project Rwanda finished, she increased her involvement with the cyclists and eventually switched full-time to working with the team, which is now its own entity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">The team operates on a shoestring budget.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Kimberly earns in a year now, what she used to earn in a month.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She doesn’t have health care, and she can’t count on having water or electricity every day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Her clothing occupies half a shelf.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And she and her husband are divorced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As she says, “There’s that old cliché that if you follow your heart and passion, then the money will come.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Well, I’m doing that, and I guess I have a roof over my head and no debts.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Though she adds, “I’m way behind on retirement.” </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">I believe that what that shopworn cliché really means, is that money’s importance is diminished in the face of passion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>To wake each day with a clear sense of purpose, with a drive separate and deeper than making money, changes our views of what “enough money” means.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There is, after all, no absolute benchmark of what “the money will come” looks like. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">When I speak with her, Kimberly sounds happy, except that word is too pale by far to describe the fullness she describes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>How she sounds is in love, not with someone or something, but with everything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She is traveling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She is doing something that she believes is changing life for the better in Rwanda.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And she is cycling up a storm, training with the men, and now the women, on the team, and in the best shape of her life, at 45.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Speaking with Kimberly, I was reminded of a </span><a href="http://www.zeitgeistfilms.com/billcunninghamnewyork/about.html"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">documentary</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: Times"> I saw recently about Bill Cunningham, a long-time fashion photographer for the New York Times, known for his candid street photos of celebrities and ordinaries alike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>At 82 years old, though he marinates daily in haute couture circles, surrounded by the beautiful, the rich and the powerful, Cunningham himself lives an ascetic life. He has little money. He duct tapes his rain poncho when it starts to show wear, and he has not much use for food, except as fuel. He has never had a romantic relationship.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Yet, as portrayed in the film, so steeped is he in his love for his work, that in a world of legendary bitchiness and snobbery, he maintains a DNA-deep kindness, of an authenticity rarely achieved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Cunningham made me want to try harder, to love more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So does Kimberly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">When Kimberly comes back to the US for visits, her friends and family offer her jobs and alternatives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They suggest it’s time to finish up with her “African adventure.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>On the side, some ask her what her secret is, how she did “it.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Kimberly says, “The secret of how I did it is…I quit.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>No secret.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s not headline news that we are attached to the stuff and style of our lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Nor is it news that when we find the will to voluntarily let go of our supposed needs, that many are happier for it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We make space for love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">And yet…we hang on for dear life, convinced that the next career move with a fat pay raise, the next acquisition of…some…thing…will be the one that assuages all of our desires.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And then…it doesn’t.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">I’m not ready to give up my nice life and run off to Africa, or start duct taping $5 rain ponchos; but it makes me think:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>What can I do more of?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>What can I do with less of?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I aspire, not to stuff or style, but more love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p>RunLikeAGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15654268860856907306noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428482113754894806.post-21714016170956657512011-10-18T14:43:00.001-04:002011-10-24T13:46:04.598-04:00Is Strong Sexy?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl-qVsIhO5AcCLX9_qx0Vz3wLULEpYBEOeoJ8KLyEwnRPVeY6FHChWXf4wRfmgF28KBIYwsW3xkH5_gTghXuVrEXfx7GVNN8B0927NSDfSOcfe92X91NbN1I910_EMB_cTH20hr9yt61Y/s1600/BlogHer+badge.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 120px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl-qVsIhO5AcCLX9_qx0Vz3wLULEpYBEOeoJ8KLyEwnRPVeY6FHChWXf4wRfmgF28KBIYwsW3xkH5_gTghXuVrEXfx7GVNN8B0927NSDfSOcfe92X91NbN1I910_EMB_cTH20hr9yt61Y/s200/BlogHer+badge.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667116364364435986" border="0" /></a><br /><style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Times; panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} a:link, span.MsoHyperlink {mso-style-noshow:yes; color:blue; text-decoration:underline; text-underline:single;} a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed {mso-style-noshow:yes; color:purple; text-decoration:underline; text-underline:single;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;" >I was asked recently what I thought about men watching women’s sports for the eye candy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Did I think it was bad, the interviewer asked?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>My immediate thought was, yes, of course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I don’t want men watching women athletes for the turn-on, I want men to be watching for the strength and grace and prowess of the players; because the women are just as good athletes as their male counterparts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When I thought further about the question though, my feelings about the issue got more complicated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In thinking of World Cup soccer, a sport where the women are fierce, fast, strong and covered in mud…well, if men find that sexy, how much better that is than the media-generated ideal of fragile bunny beauty, a mere willow wisp, toppling over from the weight of her surgically enhanced breasts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;" >ESPN seems to think that strong women are sexy, or at least their magazine’s <a href="http://espn.go.com/espn/photos/gallery/_/id/7030506/bodies-want-2011#6">2011 Bodies We Want</a> issue capitalizes on this new direction in women’s sex appeal, with its photo spread of modestly posed nude photos of top ranked athletes, women and men, showing off just how rippling a woman’s abs can be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;" >The bodies on display are, indeed, beautiful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And if we women are killing ourselves trying to live up to some mythical beauty ideal, wouldn’t it be nicer if the ideal were not quite so mythical, and instead something real.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I feel certain that Hope Solo is not photo-enhanced for television while she is playing soccer matches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And though I will never play World Cup soccer, I can aspire to be my strongest self.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The only thing stopping me from my own rippling set of abs is the sit-ups I don’t do (okay, and maybe chocolate cake).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Not only is the strong, tough, active woman ideal far more attainable than anything we see in Playboy or Vogue, because it is less constricted in its definition, the strong ideal is healthier, physically and mentally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;" >When I say healthier, I really mean it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The beauty ideal propagated in our society is ruining girls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Beauty and sexuality have become so completely intertwined as to be indistinguishable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>A </span><span style="Times New Roman"font-family:";" ><a href="http://www.apa.org/pi/women/programs/girls/report-full.pdf"><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;" >Report of the APA Task Force on the Sexualization of Girls</span></a></span><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;" > found that the increased sexualization in magazines, marketing, television shows, movies and song lyrics harmed girls’ interpersonal relationships, fostered greater body dissatisfaction (as if that issue needs more kindling), and its companion—eating disorders, increased depression, generally affected physical health, and even led to diminished cognitive skills (apparently they posed math problems to girls trying on sweaters and girls trying on bathing suits, and those trying on sweaters scored much higher).</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;" >The </span><span style="Times New Roman"font-family:";" ><a href="http://www.csmonitor.com/USA/Society/2011/0924/Little-girls-or-little-women-The-Disney-princess-effect"><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;" >Disney princess effect</span></a> is sucking the life out of girls, leaving them on the front stoop, waiting for Prince Charming, instead of outside running around in the fresh air, where they might not look pretty-in-pink every moment and their tiara might fall off. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The Women’s Sports Foundation <a href="http://www.womenssportsfoundation.org/home/research/articles-and-reports/mental-and-physical-health/her-life-depends-on-it-ii">reports</a> that girls drop out of sports at a rate of 6:1 versus boys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And a Girl Scout <a href="http://docs.google.com/viewer?a=v&q=cache:0QIRgpCqV6kJ:www.girlscouts.org/research/publications/original/gs_study_summary.pdf+girl+scout+study+23%25+girls+don%27t+play+sports&hl=en&gl=us&pid=bl&srcid=ADGEESjfUEPcEbHED4BRqv2GELNIup8ryHgde2IWwNeV0uynlGUvN-TU3dF3e_jwu09NdsC6j3826jKviNjRP-8OJg_F026xNalTtn2jM36tQCrFMh3pGtch1Ex2Y6D_UsX6XSyL7Ie0&sig=AHIEtbQG0rXSfKPK6b3TwWdmuRP2vQg9wg">study</a> showed that many girls between 11-17 years old don’t play sports because they think their bodies don’t look good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="Times New Roman"font-family:";" >And even if girls do think their bodies look good, there are a lot of messages out there that we shouldn’t be using our bodies for sports anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Passing through Times Square subway station these last weeks I’ve been struck by the new Levi’s ad, which shows boys skateboarding and doing tricks on bikes wearing their jeans, whereas the girl’s jeans are down around her ankles (she’s ostensibly pulling them on, after what, who knows, since she’s standing beside an SUV in the middle of nowhere), flashing us a good look at her lacy panties.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The tagline is about creating our legacy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So…boys’ legacies lie in extreme sports and girls’ in their undergarments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;" ><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I think that’s enough bad news for now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And lest it’s not obvious, when I advocate for a new beauty or sexy ideal, I’m not advocating for sexually provocative sports uniforms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Scantily clad beach volleyball players do not advance the cause. The Lingerie Football League is not part of the healthy new ideal I’d love to see. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Leveraging what Catherine Hakim calls our </span><span style="Times New Roman"font-family:";" ><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Erotic-Capital-Attraction-Boardroom-Bedroom/dp/0465027474/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1316012932&sr=1-1"><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;" >Erotic Capital</span></a></span><span style="mso-bidi-line-height: 150%;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;" > (i.e. our sex appeal) in her book of the same name, will not, in my opinion empower us, as Julie Ruvolo suggests in Forbes blog post, </span><span style="Times New Roman"font-family:";" ><a href="http://www.forbes.com/sites/julieruvolo/2011/09/11/if-youve-got-it-charge-for-it-the-feminism-2-0-manifesto/"><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;" >“If You’ve Got It, Charge For It”: The Feminism 2.0 Manifesto</span></a></span><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;" >.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Instead it sets women up against each other, in that eternally unhealthy competition for men’s attention, and ensures that aging will continue to be seen as the end of our power and worth—Ruvolo sets that age at 35, so I’m way out of time anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;" >What we want is to redefine sexy completely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There’s hope.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The ESPN body issue is a slight breeze, perhaps portending bigger winds of change.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And there’s </span><span style="Times New Roman"font-family:";" ><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2011/10/04/sports/homecoming-queen-and-winning-field-goal-on-same-night.html?_r=1"><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;" >The Kicking Queen</span></a></span><span style="mso-bidi- line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;" >, Brianna Amat, who recently became Homecoming Queen and kicked a winning field goal for her football team (all male, except her) on the same day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;" >One question is whether men will still find the eye candy soccer player (or football player or runner) sexy when they have to deal with the actual strong woman behind the shin guards.</span></p> <span style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-bidi-mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-USfont-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;" >Another question—should that even matter? </span>RunLikeAGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15654268860856907306noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428482113754894806.post-78369677225228435212011-10-10T11:23:00.002-04:002011-10-10T11:24:56.017-04:00Girl Changes Her World<div><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">You may have noticed, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the under-layers of that eternally provocative question—“why are we here?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Maybe there doesn’t need to be a reason for everything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But isn’t it nice to have a reason for something as important as our existence?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>At a fundamental level, think of how much more reliable and motivated you are when someone else is counting on you for something. Showing up for someone else feels good, right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So is that where we might locate some of our reason for being, our purpose? <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">I was reminded of this in a stark way reading Leymah Gbowee’s, </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Mighty-Be-Our-Powers-Sisterhood/dp/0984295151/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1317226351&sr=1-1"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Mighty Be Our Powers</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">, about coming into her womanhood and finding her strength and activist core in Liberia during the brutal civil war in that country.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>At one point, speaking about coming out of a long depression (brought on by an abusive relationship, not to mention the horrors of the violence in Liberia), she begins to feel the power of meaning in her life, “I wasn’t sitting home thinking endlessly about what a failure I was; I was doing something, something that actually helped people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The more I did, the more I could do, the more I wanted to do, the more I saw needed to be done.”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Leymah’s story is a we-shall-overcome tale, if ever there was one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But most of us, thankfully (!), do not face such overwhelming challenges.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Our worlds are relatively peaceful and easy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Complacence is natural.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Nothing in our direct field of vision seems to “need” us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Yet, that feeling Leymah had is, I think, still familiar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Most of us have days we sit at home feeling like failures, then something demands our presence, and I don’t mean just physically, but emotionally, mentally, spiritually, and there’s no space left for despondency. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">I spoke to one young woman who found her opportunity to contribute in her own backyard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Paloma Wiggins is a junior in high school in Yellow Springs, Ohio (pop. 3200).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She started running in the 7<sup>th</sup> grade, when one of her friends encouraged her to join the cross-country team.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The distances seemed crazy long at first, but it didn’t take much time before Paloma had fallen in love with running over hill and dale, with the feeling that comes with being involved in a sport.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">When the small team of five girls got to high school, they decided they at least needed t-shirts, so people would know they existed. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The boys’ team had shirts, oh yes, and other PR perks, like free frosties at meets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Paloma, passing over the bake sale, suggested the team organize a 5k event in town for girls and women only, as a way of fundraising for their team.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>150 women turned out the first year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>“I realized, this was about more than raising money for my cross-country team,” Paloma says.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>“I saw how invigorating and powerful and supportive it was to have a women-only event.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And hearing the women’s stories, ‘this is my first 5k’ or ‘this is my first run since my husband’s death,’ well it was amazing to feel that I was helping women through things in their lives, and helping them feel active, healthy and productive.” <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Paloma founded </span><a href="http://www.simplywomenohio.org/"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt; line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Simply Women Ohio</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%; font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Times"> three years ago, after that first 5k event.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Although the 5k is the main event of the year (217 women and girls showed up this year—a huge turnout for the size of the community), her organization embraces a broader mission. Simply Women has also established a leadership in athletics award, which will be presented each year </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Arial">to the graduating senior female athlete at the Yellow Springs high school who best demonstrates an enduring model of leadership and a lasting commitment to female athletics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In other words, not necessarily the best athlete, but the girl who is a team player, who encourages others and gives back into sports, not to mention taking her studies seriously.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: Times"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Arial">Paloma’s mission, through Simply Women, is to create broader support structures in the Yellow Springs community for young women participating in sports and other healthy activities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In the short term, Paloma is already searching for her successor, because after next year, she’ll be off to university and she needs someone on the ground in Yellow Springs to carry on the day-to-day work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Any takers?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Arial">Not all of us find our purpose so early in life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And that’s perfectly fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>If we’re listening, our minds, our spirits, our bodies even will let us know what to do when the time is right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Start simple.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>What things get you up happy in the morning?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Notice what makes you feel good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Explore those avenues and you just might find your Simply Women Ohio opportunity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>This post appeared on the <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/mina-samuels/finding-purpose-in-life_b_998167.html">Huffington Post</a> under a different title.</p></div>RunLikeAGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15654268860856907306noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428482113754894806.post-29866885968685084752011-09-19T11:34:00.001-04:002011-09-19T11:37:07.248-04:00Shoot to Score<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">When I ask, Olivia says she thinks she’s been playing soccer for four, maybe five years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Five years, her mother, Jane, clarifies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So Olivia (Liv to most everyone) has been playing soccer for half her life (and maybe it ought to count for more, since for at least the first eighteen months of her potential soccer playing life she wasn’t yet walking). <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Liv plays a lot of soccer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Last spring, for example, she played on a club team that practiced for an hour and a half on Tuesday, Friday and Saturdays, played games Sundays, and had what’s called academy practices on Monday and Wednesdays (of which Liv was only required to attend one, but always attended both). Her own hour and a half practices and extra academies were apparently not quite enough, because on Tuesdays her younger brother’s team’s academy practice was before hers, and Liv would play with them for that hour and a half, too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>For the record, Jane wanted me to add this important not-a-tiger-mum-disclaimer:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>All add-on practices are at Liv’s behest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">One of Liv’s favourite add-ons is when there’s a scrimmage between the girls and boys teams. “The games get stronger and more physical when the girls play the boys,” Jane says.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>“Like if we really want it,” Liv says, “we have to put more power into the ball, and be more aggressive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So we’re everywhere, running fast, dribbling, passing and taking more shots on goal.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Like having </span><a href="http://mrunslikeagirl.blogspot.com/2011/08/confidence-to-race-nascar-rules.html"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">the confidence to race Nascar rules</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times"> in Ski Cross, the girls’ game goes up a level when they face off with the boys, an opportunity for the girls to show themselves just how much game they’ve got.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">All the playing has paid off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Liv’s good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She plays on the best club team for her age.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In the summers though there’s no club team, so Liv participates in the local soccer camp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And it was there this summer that Liv’s commitment to and understanding of her sport was tested in a new way.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">The girls were playing Around the World, a fast moving drill that mimics game conditions and tests a player’s ability to shoot on goal from different angles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Girls rotated in and out of the goal keeping position, as they chose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Liv was up and took her shot on goal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>June, the goalie, a Hope-Solo-in-training, tried to block Liv’s ball with her wrist and broke the </span><a href="http://www.niams.nih.gov/Health_Info/Growth_Plate_Injuries/growth_plate_injuries_ff.asp"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">growth plate in her wrist</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Or at least, that’s what Liv learned later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>At the time, June stopped playing, but the no one knew how serious her injury was. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">The next day, neither June, nor her older sister, Martha (a friend of Liv’s) showed up to soccer camp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And when Liv called Martha, to ask if she’d come over to play, Martha said she was going to the doctor with her mother and June, to check out June’s wrist, which was probably broken, maybe from soccer camp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Liv hung up the phone and dissolved in tears, telling Jane, “I KNOW I broke June’s wrist.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Jane called June’s mother immediately, to confirm the story. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Despite Liv’s distress at the phone call, later that day, Liv went over to Martha’s for a sleepover, and June acted as if everything was fine between them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It wasn’t until the next morning that things got strange and uncomfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>At the swimming pool with Liv and Martha and her cousins, June started to act like her broken wrist was Liv’s fault, after all.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Even if it’s been a long time since you were ten-years old (as in my own case), I bet that, like me, you can still remember at a cellular level the pain of being shunned by other girls, no matter how brief the moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Hell hath no fury and all, well that applies equally to girls as to women.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I would not wish it on anyone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Liv retreated to her mother’s side to recoup her mojo, and Jane recommended she text her club team soccer coach, Noah. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Noah has coached Liv’s club teams for the past two years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>His philosophy is to coach the whole person, not just the athlete, and he well understands the leadership and independence he is instilling in his young soccer athletes (his “little warriors” as he calls them), particularly the girls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>One of his practice (and game) rules is that a player is never supposed to say, “I’m sorry” on the field, during play.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Something I can imagine girls having trouble with, since we’re socialized to apologize for any aggression.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>After all, a proper girl isn’t aggressive, right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Ha.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">An aside, Natalie Angier offers up this perspective, in her book, </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Woman-Intimate-Geography-Natalie-Angier/dp/0385498411/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1315943228&sr=1-1"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt; line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Woman:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>An Intimate Geography</span></i></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">, </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt; line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Aggression and depression sound like two different, even polarized phenomena, but they’re not. Depression is aggression turned inward, directed against the self, or the imagined, threatening self.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So perhaps one reason for the significantly higher incidences of depression in women is our propensity to apologize for any aggressive tendencies we might accidentally manifest, say, on the soccer field.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%; font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Times"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Of course, the girls on Noah’s team can say sorry afterwards, but so long as they are playing clean and fair, there’s no apologizing mid-flight for the accidental hurts inflicted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s sports. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It happens.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Noah’s rule saves a lot of time and breath.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Liv texted Noah that she had taken a shot on goal and broken the goalie’s arm, asking him what she ought to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Noah texted back, “Get her an ice pack,” and then, “Can’t wait to see you strike the ball when you get back [for the club team season].” <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Word got around the soccer camp community about the incident.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>One coach said to Jane, “If Olivia were a boy, she would have been hoisted on the other boys’ shoulders.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But another coach made a backhand comment to Liv about breaking June’s arm.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Liv has had some bad moments, though once she’d texted with Noah, she never revisited any guilt or uncertainty about her blamelessness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>That was solidly past tense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She’s glad, too, that the summer soccer camp doesn’t overlap with the club team, so its unlikely the story will get around the gossip mill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s just easier if she doesn’t have to answer, “You broke her arm, really?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Was it by accident?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And she is sure of this: “I felt bad, because June was hurt, but it wasn’t my fault.” <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Liv says the incident won’t hold her back in her game. Three cheers!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>That’s playing soccer like a girl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->RunLikeAGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15654268860856907306noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428482113754894806.post-74079876949554908022011-09-16T09:53:00.001-04:002011-09-16T09:56:04.723-04:00Workout With Purpose<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">We workout for all sorts of reasons—maybe we do it to de-stress, or to lose weight, to get stronger, or to be healthy, or for all those ends and others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>All good reasons, but beneath this first layer of forces driving us out onto the roads or trails, into the pool, to the yoga studio, or the gym, resides a sub-layer that is the deeper core of meaning we bring with us into everything we do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>That is:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>we nurture our physical, emotional and spiritual health, so that we can live our best life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">As integrative physician </span><a href="http://drlowdog.com/"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height: 150%;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Tieraona Low Dog</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">, MD, of the Arizona Center for Integrative Medicine at the University of Arizona in Tucson, said in </span><a href="http://newhope360.com/sleep-stress-amp-fatigue/8-top-mistakes-health-conscious-people-make"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">an article in Delicious Living</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">, “When you make health the goal rather than viewing it as a resource, it’s easy to get stressed out, rigid, and narrow-minded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Health is what helps you live the life you want—it’s a resource, not a destination</i>. (my italics)” She is talking about the negative stress we can bring to the very act of working out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>For example, working out to get thinner, and beating ourselves up every day we’re not thin enough (never mind, by what media-mediated standard we might be judging the result); or working out to get stronger or faster, but in the process actually wearing ourselves down and getting super-cranky.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">I would take this resource-not-destination thought another step further, and point out that if you are inclined to feel that we are here for a purpose, and that part of our raison d’être is to make the world a better place (after all, what else could it be?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Certainly not to make the world a worse place, right? Besides, what better way to feel that we have agency in our lives, than making a difference in our world), then having the resource of our good health and well being is a key ingredient in our ability to fulfill our purpose.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Pilar Gerasimo, in her </span><a href="http://experiencelife.com/issues/january-february-2011/fit-body/a-manifesto-for-thriving-in-a-mixed-up-world.php"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Manifesto for Thriving in a Mixed-Up World</span></a><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">, goes further still.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She says that being healthy is a revolutionary act by which we reclaim our vitality that is both our individual right and our collective responsibility.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Big words those—“right” and “responsibility.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">Indeed.</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: Times"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">How we are in the world matters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>How we approach our workouts is just one aspect of how we are in our lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Not a separate aspect, mind you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We are one person, consistent within ourselves at our essential center.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Lest this all sound a bit high-minded and unattainable, I’m not talking about becoming Gandhi, quite the contrary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I am referring to the small things, the every day things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Most action we take has the power to make the world a better or worse place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>How we treat the people around us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Did you smile at the barista when you got you’re a.m. coffee?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Or were you scowling for your caffeine, your mind already hours ahead into your day?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The very energy we bring to our life affects those around us, and ripples outward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>You know what I’m talking about—those people who make you feel good, just by being around them (and their opposites). And when we are strong and healthy, how much more likely it is that we have that positive energy to spread around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>That’s who we want to be. And in the end, that’s really why we workout.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Sounds heavy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But in fact, adopting this perspective can bring an incredible lightness to your workouts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Instead of feeling the pressure of the goals you may have set for yourself (that you may be fixating on, or beating yourself up about), you are lifted in the updraft of energy that purpose creates.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> You can also find this on <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/mina-samuels/give-your-workouts-a-purpose_b_959713.html">Huffington Post</a>.</o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->RunLikeAGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15654268860856907306noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428482113754894806.post-3425190763060823552011-09-09T18:03:00.002-04:002011-09-09T18:42:09.790-04:00Vote, Run, LeadI was privileged to meet with dynamo activist <a href="http://www.thewhitehouseproject.org/about/staff/staffbios.php#dufu">Tiffany Dufu</a> this morning, whose bracingly organized mind and big ideas on women's leadership had me glued to my chair while she talked. And I tried not to interrupt too much with questions and my own views on how sports fit with her flow. <div><br /></div><div>Tiffany is the President of <a href="http://www.thewhitehouseproject.org/">The Whitehouse Project</a>, which, as you may now guess, means the "run" in the title of the blog post does not refer to the kind of run I'm usually talking about...but have no fear, I'll bring it all together (the function of my somewhat one-track mind). The Whitehouse Project has for the past decade, through its Vote, Run, Lead program, identified, encouraged, educated, trained and generally set women on their way in politics. New initiatives coming will focus on leadership in other key arenas, like business. </div><div><br /></div><div>One of the difficulties women face on entering politics is their often innate (genetic? socialized?) aversion to public declarations of ambition. Not just, "I want to do this." But also, "I'm the best person to do this." As Tiffany said, it's as if women believe in the Santa Claus of affirmation, like somehow if we do a good job someone will notice and pat us on the back, without us ever having to call attention to our efforts. We know how well that works out. Where is that Santa guy?</div><div><br /></div><div>Politics teaches women how to own their ambitions. And if you've read my blog before, you probably already know where I'm going with this. But I'll go there anyway. So does sports. There, I said it, again. Because we're not out of the woods, and reminding is reinforcing, until owning our ambition is encoded into our very DNA. Sports (and involvement in politics) helps shift our consciousness from "maybe someone will notice me over here, tucked in the corner," to "here I am and I want this." </div><div><br /></div><div>You can vote, run (for office), lead, or you can vote, run (on the roads or trails), lead. The important part is to know, own and capitalize on your strength. That means putting your skin in the game (i.e. vote), owning your strength (i.e. run) and mining the value of your strength (i.e. lead). We're here for a reason (here as in, on this earth, in this world). Let's not waste our time waiting for Santa to show. </div>RunLikeAGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15654268860856907306noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428482113754894806.post-74229372905864432422011-08-31T13:28:00.002-04:002011-08-31T13:34:24.841-04:00The Gift of Not Finishing<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"><p style="list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 14px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; ">Last week I set out with my partner to do a 20-mile trail run in the South Yuba River canyon, from Little Washington to Purdon Crossing. There would be some elevation gain -- okay, 6,000 feet to be exact -- but we took the optimist's path, and set that detail aside. True, we arrived late to the trailhead (okay, noon on a blazing, 95-degrees-in-the-shade day and oh yes, there was quite a bit of non-shade on the trail). And between us we only had three liters of water. You wouldn't be wrong in thinking that we had taken our optimistic thinking too far, perhaps even into the realm of trail running for dummies.</p><p style="list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 14px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; ">Now when I have a goal in mind, I can get a little dogged (like, canine-sinking-his-teeth-into-a-toy-to-never-let-go dogged). Not to mention that we had cars parked at each end of the hike, so the exigencies of transportation created an added incentive. I wanted to finish.</p><p style="list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 14px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; ">By mile six things looked less than promising. The map was studied. The words "campsite" and "road" at one of the trail junctions flashed like Times Square billboards...more than eight miles further along. Running became run-hike-run, which became run-hike-hike-hike-run, and then hike. I wondered (however fleetingly so, it is not to my credit) about the appropriateness of leaving one's running-partner-in-extremis by the side of a road, and running the last five miles alone, just so I could "finish."</p><p style="list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 14px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; ">When we reached the road, at just over four hours and 30 minutes into the progressively slowing run-hike, I knew we were finished, and that what we'd done was more than enough. It was then, when I dropped my 20-miler chew toy, that I found the balance in the day.
<br />
<br />The road was un-trafficked, in an area that brought to mind <em style="list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; font-style: italic !important; ">Deliverance</em> (cue the banjo!), as unfair as that comparison likely is to the actual residents. We passed a couple of roads (or driveways?) leading off into the dense and uninviting woods. The next house, set back in the woods, was at least visible. At the gate, a tiny rock was painted with the words "inquire about our guest cabin." Was the cabin referred to the structure with the tin sheet roof and the caving-in walls, set some 25 feet from what seemed to be the house proper? Was there even a door on the cabin? Was the sign ironic?</p><p style="list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 14px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; ">And how about the large dog cage, empty of dog? I imagined a menacing one called it home. Already I was picturing big teeth, saliva dripping from the bottom of the dog's chin as it prepared to attack. I walked down the drive toward the house with trepidation. No dog. Just two little cats, heads popping up and then bounding away, tails pointed skyward. I knocked on the rickety screen door. A woman in her mid-fifties answered with a friendly smile. She offered her phone -- a landline -- to call into Nevada City, the nearest town, for a taxi. The area was off the mobile phone grid, naturally. She went back to cutting hearts out of a spot-patterned bed sheet. Still a bit worried, I asked after the dog, who was no longer, she told me. I breathed an internal sigh of relief.</p><p style="list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 14px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; ">But there was the pig. I had time. The taxi we'd called wouldn't arrive for at least half an hour. The women led me into her bedroom, adjacent to the kitchen where I'd come in, there, lounging and snorting at the end of her bed, on her own crib mattress (complete with sheets and extra bolster pillows) was Ruby, a 160-pound Vietnamese pot belly pig. Seventeen years old, arthritic and ailing, Ruby was a former service pig. She had visited hospices, hospitals and schools in her prime and had sported the pig-fashions of the day. I crouched down to pet and chat with Ruby. I looked at her baby book, which included a younger Ruby in a Sugar Plum Fairy outfit.
<br />
<br /></p><p style="list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 14px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; ">Inside myself, I felt a fresh flow of energy, as my internal rhythm re-calibrated from the truncated exertion of the run to this new, unlooked for experience, finding the adjusted harmony in the day.</p><p style="list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 14px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; ">In addition to the introduction to Ruby, the woman offered me stories: that retired miners liked to spend the summer at the nearby campground panning for gold in the South Yuba River, the very area which was the source, as she told me, of the wealth that had built San Francisco; that raising organic, pastured chickens to lay Omega-3 enriched eggs is hard work, best done by the young; that pig rescue organizations have a job on their hands (pigs start breeding at four months and are essentially as prodigious in their procreation as rabbits, much to the shock of casual pigs-for-pets owners); that her area (though not she herself) was the supplier of most medical marijuana to the Sacramento area, hence the unwelcoming cast to most of the properties around.</p><p style="list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 14px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; ">When the taxi arrived, 45 minutes later, the driver parched and unimpressed by the condition of the road, I was sorry to leave; and not sorry at all to have not finished the run. Despite my dust-caked legs and the twigs in my hair, I felt clean and refreshed. A day I might have viewed as a failure had been an unprecedented success.</p><p style="list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 14px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; ">We didn't force the run. Like water encountering an obstacle, we flowed around the challenges, finding the most natural course for that day.</p><p style="list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 14px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; ">The felt experience of that South Yuba day was like I was back on my <a href="http://www.gibbonslacklines.com/index.php?option=com_k2&view=item&layout=item&id=3&Itemid=12" target="_hplink" style="list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; color: rgb(106, 163, 177); outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; text-decoration: none; ">slackline</a> (like a tightrope -- follow the link to see what I mean), which I've been playing with, and perhaps it was the familiarity of the sensation that made meeting Ruby possible.</p><p style="list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 14px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; ">I've been practicing walking backwards on the slackline, also turning around, though I'm hardly beyond beginner in the forward walking department. What I've noticed in all of my efforts, is that I can literally feel, physically, in my body, how getting frustrated foils my intent, how I can only execute a maneuver once I let go of the angst-y need to succeed.</p><p style="list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 14px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; ">One more vivid example of that physical-mental feeling in action happened one day as I rode my mountain bike home from the grove where I usually slackline. The ride is not particularly technical, but then I'm low-skill mountain biker. There's one particular rock, maybe the size of a cushy, upholstered footstool, that's been menacing me since forever (okay, for the past three summers). The trail winds around the rock in a sharp-ish turn, flanked by thick tie-your-bike-up mountain shrubbery. I have always balked at the last minute, and put a steadying foot down. But this one day, as I approached my rock-nemesis, I was feeling a nice post-slackline calm. What was the worst? A tumble in the bushes? A chain ring in my calf? Been there. Done that. I glanced at the rock and it seemed to soften, the path seemed to widen, and around I went, and have done ever since. No force. Just flow.</p><p style="list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 14px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; ">To me that experience feels like slowing down my energy, by which I don't mean sapping or diminishing my energy, rather I mean gathering my energy inward, moving toward my center, my place of balance, a state which can never be achieved through pushy frustration.
<br />
<br /></p><p style="list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 14px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; ">And that physical feeling, practiced over and over, gets in some sense dialed in at a cellular level, and slowly, slowly translates into life itself. </p></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;">You can find this blog on <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/mina-samuels/finding-balance-giving-up-on-a-run-what-i-got-in-return_b_941080.html">Huffington Post</a>, too...</span>RunLikeAGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15654268860856907306noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428482113754894806.post-55704863730622717512011-08-19T13:35:00.002-04:002011-08-19T13:38:08.069-04:00It's Not About a Better Body <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:drawinggridhorizontalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:drawinggridverticalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:dontautofitconstrainedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">I have tried all sorts of different workouts in my time—in addition to all the outdoor things I partake of, from running and cycling (off and on road), to cross-country skiing, snowshoeing and hiking, to kayaking, rock climbing and swimming, I do yoga and what’s variously called Physique57 or Bar Effect (or Core Fusion, or Nalini) classes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In what feels like another lifetime (during my law school years), I was an aerobics instructor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And I’ve tried all sorts of gym classes (despite my non-membership), from kickboxing, to step classes (yes—that goes back some years), to pole dancing and Zumba.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Some of these pursuits promise to make me longer and leaner, to re-shape my body to the ideal—I wish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Actually wait, really?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Is that really why I’m engaging in a particular activity?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Other activities promise me a calmer mind and Gumby’s hamstrings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The first sounds pretty good, the second sounds implausible, unless I’m willing to give up running (not!).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Some of my sports make me no promises.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>My mountain trails have never spoken to me about their intentions for my body, or at least not that I know of.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">What I do know is that far too many workouts are pitched as answers to the mythic pursuit of the perfect body.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Mythic—because the very idea of perfection is a myth:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Perfect by what or who’s standard?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Society’s?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>By which we mean exactly what?—media generated images of beauty?—By which what I really mean is media manipulated and distorted (aka falsified—I mean you, Photoshop and your ilk) images of the unreal.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">How can we possibly think that there is one standard of beauty, when we know (we really know) that each one of us is an individual with our own particular tastes?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>You think steak is the perfect food and my pick would be hummus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>You feel perfect in pink and I feel best in black.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>You define musicals as the perfect entertainment and I’m not happy unless I’m crying in my theater seat, no soundtrack please.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>You get the idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s no different for bodies. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">To pursue perfection is a trap, a rat maze with no escape. Perfect is </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:18.0pt;line-height: 150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"">a confining concept, one that holds up a rigid not-every-person’s-ideal as a benchmark for all of us. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:18.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"">Instead, I propose we think of the pursuit of “excellence” over perfection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Excellence </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">is individual, though paradoxically, also less subjective.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>That’s because excellence comes from inside ourselves, it is our mastery of the particular field we have chosen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It is investing our efforts at our personal maximum level in pursuit of our best self,</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:18.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman""> holding our own selves to the highest standard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And this excellence is far different from perfection, that more confining concept, which implies the best of the best of the best, as defined by the whole entire world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">As Carl Jung said, “Perfection belongs to the gods; the most that we can hope for is excellence.”</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:18.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So to burden our workouts with the end goal of achieving the perfect body is to pursue the impossible dream.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Not because you can’t do it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Because the end goal does not even exist!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Uh-oh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>If our goal is a chimera, where does that leave us?—On the couch with a box of chocolates?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>(Not that I don’t love my couch and chocolate).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Of course not, or at least, not until we’ve finished our workouts. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">We simply cannot be working out just for better bodies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The good news is that deep down we’re not that deluded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span><a href="http://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S1469029206001142"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Studies</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: Times"> have shown that women who are encouraged in a workout setting with the carrot of positive reinforcement about the health and happiness benefits of their exercise are far more likely to enjoy and stick with a workout.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Whereas workout settings, which use the stick of negative self-image, shaming the participant into thinking she needs a smaller bum, thinner thighs or a flatter stomach, foster recidivism.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Why we workout matters.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Here’s why I do.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">At one level, I work out because I want to </span><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">be outside, rain, snow or shine, to feel the elements against my skin and know the seasons are changing by the taste of the air I’m breathing; because I want to be strong, to test my mental and physical endurance, to show myself what I’m capable of; because I will not go gentle into that good night, as the poet </span><a href="http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15377"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Dylan Thomas</span></a><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana"> says; and so I can lounge on my couch in a state of well-earned-body-tiredness and eat those chocolates.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">At another, deeper level, my workouts brings me great joy and that is reason enough. I am feeling pleasure in my very fibers, the pleasure of sweat, of effort, of turning “can I?” into “I can.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The other morning, running alone in “my” mountains, I started to wonder if my eyes were playing tricks on me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The trail in front of me was streaked with bands of unexplainable light.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I blinked, wondering if something was in my eye.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then I realized that what seemed to be coming from inside my eye was actually the sunlight reflected off the veritable web of early morning, as yet undisturbed, silk spider filaments, which criss-crossed my path at ankle level.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was suddenly filled with such gratitude for the privilege of experiencing such beauty and my luck at being physically able, that I spread my arms wide and shouted nonsense-happy-sounds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Don’t worry, no one saw or heard, so you don’t need to be embarrassed and pretend you don’t know me. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">The next time you are engaged in your active pursuits, stop a moment, feel the “why” of why you are doing the workout.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As Eckhart Tolle recommends in </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Power-Now-Guide-Spiritual-Enlightenment/dp/1577314808/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1286375160&sr=1-1"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Power of Now</span></a><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">, scan your physical-emotional being and ask, am I happy?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I hope the answer is yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>If not, find the workout that gives you that answer. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">This post can also be found under an alternative title on the <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/mina-samuels/working-out-shouldnt-be-about-getting-a-perfect-body_b_927553.html">Huffington Post.</a></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->RunLikeAGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15654268860856907306noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428482113754894806.post-4214279928937521012011-08-08T19:58:00.001-04:002011-08-08T20:00:54.347-04:00An Overdue Thank You to My Readers<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Today I received an elegant and gracious letter from a woman who had recently read <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Run Like a Girl</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Each time I receive a missive like this, I am moved anew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Selfishly, I wrote a book because I am a writer and I love writing, the very act grants me inordinate amounts of joy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Yet, what started as this selfish act has yielded me a more profound result than ever I anticipated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Some of you, who have read the book, have been inspired or moved to reach higher, and discovered that you could.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>For the opportunity to participate in the tiniest way in that discovery, I am grateful down to my bones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">I’ll leave it to Yann Martel to say better what I am fumbling to express.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As Martel wrote in <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Beatrice-Virgil-Novel-Yann-Martel/dp/0812981545/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1312846930&sr=1-1">Beatrice and Virgil</a> (italicized explanatory note is mine), “Henry <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">(the protagonist)</i> had written a novel because there was a hole in him that needed filling, a question that needed answering, a patch of canvas that needed painting—that blend of anxiety, curiosity and joy that is at the origin of art—and he had filled the hole, answered the question, splashed colour on the canvas, all done for himself, because he had to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then complete strangers told him that his book had filled a hole in them, had answered a question, had brought colour to their lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The comfort of strangers, be it a smile, a pat on the shoulder or a word of praise, is truly a comfort.”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Indeed.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> RunLikeAGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15654268860856907306noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428482113754894806.post-36371744391741870852011-08-02T14:08:00.002-04:002011-08-02T14:15:17.883-04:00The Confidence to Race Nascar Rules<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">It’s been a couple of years now since I interviewed some of the women in my book.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Granted, that’s not quite long enough for a really shocking “where are they now?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But I recently had the chance to catch up with Brett Buckles, who was, as some will remember, in the midst of recovering from a race career ending ski accident in Tignes, France.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was curious to know how she was adapting to her non-pro, or amateur athlete life in the slow lane (by her standards, not mine).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And I should be clear here, when I say amateur, I use that term with the greatest respect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>After all, the Latin root of the word is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">amare</i>, which means, “to love,” as in—we do our sports because we love them, not because we gotta.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">I also wanted to know if Brett had competed in a rodeo yet, one of the things she’d told me was on her list.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She hadn’t…yet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">That’s because Brett is busy with about a million other things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>To begin with, she’s coaching our future </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Skicross"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Ski Cross</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: Times"> Olympians.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There’s not much of a Ski Cross field in the North America yet, though it’s an established sport in Europe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s a fast and furious version of downhill ski racing, in which 4-6 people are on the course at the same time, competing head to head, with Nascar-style rules—“rubbing is racing.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>No malicious contact is allowed, in case that wasn’t obvious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">The girls she coaches, 7-10 nationally, at any given time, are, unsurprisingly, slower to take to the sport than the boys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Fear, as you can imagine, is your biggest enemy in the sport, as it is in life, though perhaps a little more obviously when you’re hurtling down a mountain, trying to avoid skirmishes with others doing the same.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Based on my fear of small rocks while on the mountain bike, I suspect I would not be good at Ski Cross.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Before you leave the gate, Brett says, you have to be 100% confident in yourself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>According to Brett, it takes considerably more effort to build the girls’ confidence in themselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She blames at least part of this on how we are socialized, what she calls, “the being feminine thing,” which tells us we can’t kick ass and still be a girl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Still.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This is still an issue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Sigh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I wish for girls (and women, of course) the confidence to race Nascar rules, in whatever they do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Fortunately for the girls Brett coaches, and injury notwithstanding, Brett-beats-all-the-boys-Buckles is still faster down the course than the 15 and 16-year old boys she coaches (I wonder how that feels for the boys?), so she can show her girls what’s available to them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So even if most of the time they are learning how to go faster by chasing the boys, at least they know, because they’ve seen it with their own eyes, what a woman can do.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Brett still feels the itch to race, if not professionally, and even if she finishes DFL (dead fucking last).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When she has that goal out there, it’s the nudge she needs to push herself to the limit, or beyond—and that’s the pleasure zone for Brett in sports.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She’s taken up mountain biking (no surprise) and may compete in triathlons, though she doesn’t love running (no surprise there, either, since even top speed isn’t going to get the wind whistling in your ears).<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">When she’s not training her girls, or herself, Brett is working on a career in journalism, writing on the gamut from snow sports to reggae music reviews.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>On the side she’s making jewelry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I think we can safely say that Brett has not confined herself to a darkened room to nurse her self-pity, something I needed to remind myself of on occasion, as I’ve traveled my own nano-length road (by comparison to Brett) to recovery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes">p.s. I got out for a first mountain bike ride this past weekend and worked up an honest-to-goodness </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; line-height: normal; ">sweat—what joy!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p><!--StartFragment--><span style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;mso-bidi-font-family:Times;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language: EN-US"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><br /></span></span><!--EndFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><br /></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->RunLikeAGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15654268860856907306noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428482113754894806.post-15561962545419580912011-07-29T15:28:00.001-04:002011-07-29T15:32:58.960-04:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiztY5ZGXQfHL9rPNFAb7wWDOD-rXZAJELw4PX5bcst2MzNXTSdIQQ0QC_1mhnlk-l7bIxwP5uhMRlx62wZXMfKyQOQSMHcyxato0y7Pn5SaIjXgwOFouQBVg7noaLUoQ-jYUQ4Q7pMYSA/s1600/erin+cococut+cookie+pic.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiztY5ZGXQfHL9rPNFAb7wWDOD-rXZAJELw4PX5bcst2MzNXTSdIQQ0QC_1mhnlk-l7bIxwP5uhMRlx62wZXMfKyQOQSMHcyxato0y7Pn5SaIjXgwOFouQBVg7noaLUoQ-jYUQ4Q7pMYSA/s320/erin+cococut+cookie+pic.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634858817429871394" /></a> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Something a little different today…a tantalizing recipe (if you are inclined to the chocoholic, as I am) from Erin Bolger, the author of <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Happy-Baker-Girls-Emotional-Baking/dp/0373892411/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1311967893&sr=1-1">The Happy Baker-A Girl’s Guide To Emotional Baking</a></i></b>.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Why?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Well, another summer weekend is at our doorstep, many of us will be heading out on our longer workouts of the week, or maybe some are even doing races.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Treats are in order, don’t you think?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But first, from Erin, by way of intro:</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">“Running. Some of us may have taken up running to get away from our exes. Some of us started for a healthier lifestyle. I basically hit the treadmill when I decided to go freelance from my comfy job with benefits and I thought running would strengthen my lungs and get me off of my expensive asthma puffers (I was right). I was also ending a long-term relationship and nothing helps you get over a break-up better than a hot post break-up bod!<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">As great as running’s been though, it’s not my go-to activity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Most of you run when you are stressed … I bake!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’m an emotional baker.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I forget about everything when I am baking and just go to my happy place. <o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">I have a serious sweet tooth and could easily replace cookie dough for all meals. Since this is not always the healthy choice I have created a yummy and nutritious cookie combining two of my favourite things … coconut and chocolate. Now this is not a low-fat cookie so you can’t eat it like it’s going out of style but I have been known to have one for breakie! <o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Happy Baking & Happy Running!”<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Ditto from me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Enjoy your weekend workouts and treat yourself!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Here’s how…</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt">Chocolate Chunk Coconut Cookies<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">½ cup coconut oil</p> <p class="MsoNormal">¾ cup coconut sugar</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">2 eggs</p> <p class="MsoNormal">1 ½ tsp. vanilla</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">1 tbsp. unsweetened cocoa</p> <p class="MsoNormal">1 cup unsweetened coconut</p> <p class="MsoNormal">½ cup coconut flour</p> <p class="MsoNormal">1 tsp. baking powder</p> <p class="MsoNormal">½ tsp. baking soda</p> <p class="MsoNormal">pinch of sea salt</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">100 grams dk chocolate, chopped (I used 72%)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Makes 2 dozen cookies</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Preheat oven to 350 degrees</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In a mixing bowl blend together the oil and sugar until combined. Add the eggs and the vanilla; blend. Add the cocoa; blend. Stir in the flour, coconut, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Mix thoroughly. Stir in the dark chocolate pieces.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Make dough into 1-inch balls. Place on a lined cookie sheet and flatten with your fingers. Bake for 8-10 minutes. Let cool & Enjoy. Store in a cool dry place in an airtight container.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">For more of Erin’s emotional (and let’s not forget, yummy) baking recipes, you can visit her at <a href="http://www.thehappybakerchick.com">www.thehappybakerchick.com</a>.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->RunLikeAGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15654268860856907306noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428482113754894806.post-79717008108459906762011-07-22T17:56:00.001-04:002011-07-22T17:58:33.682-04:00Why I Am a Vegetarian and Diana Nyad<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">I suppose I might have titled this, “Why I Am Not a Flesh Eater,” if I was to most closely mimic Bertrand Russell’s famous speech and essay title, </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Why_I_Am_Not_a_Christian"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Why I Am Not a Christian</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">, off of which I was riffing, but that sounded a bit rugged for my taste, though, come to think of it, so is swimming with the sharks, which is what inspired this missive.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">A friend sent me an email the other day asking, “What do you think about the sharks?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She was referring to the flurry of reader comments around a story about </span><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2011/07/19/health/nutrition/19swim.html?_r=1&scp=1&sq=diana%20nyad&st=cse"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Diana Nyad</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: Times">, who, any day now, will swim from Cuba to Key West—103 miles, which is predicted to take somewhere around 60 hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>If it wasn’t already impressive, Diana is 61 years old, which certainly adds a “Wow” factor to her athletic endeavour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But there was this business of the sharks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: Times"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes">Re-Posted from </span><a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/mina-samuels/becoming-vegetarian_b_904606.html">HuffPo</a><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> with title change</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Apparently, most long distance swimmers who have taken on this particular challenge have swum in a shark cage, which is, as it sounds, a cage surrounding the swimmer, protecting her from those animals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The drawback (at least, a swimmer like Diana considers it a negative) is that the cages are tied to a boat and dragged along behind, which means the swimming is easier and faster (in 1997 an Australian did the Cuba-Key West swim in 24 hours with the cage-advantage).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Instead of a cage, Diana will be flanked by two kayakers with shark shields (electric shock rods) and there will be four shark divers on board the support boat, ready to dive in and spear threatening sharks to death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">To death?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I missed the part where the sharks volunteered to give up their lives for Diana’s swim.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I have no love of sharks in particular, but I’m not sure why creatures living in their own environment, way out at sea (we’re not talking about holiday-makers at the beach a la Jaws), may be punished for doing what they are genetically engineered to do, so that one of us humans, can pass through their environment on a personal mission to prove her strength and endurance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Don’t get me wrong, I think personal missions of strength and endurance are to be celebrated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Such quests, as Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi wrote in </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Flow-Psychology-Experience-Mihaly-Csikszentmihalyi/dp/0061339202/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1311178635&sr=1-1"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt; line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Flow</span></i></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">, enable us to expand our concepts of our selves, which, in turn, builds the self-confidence that “allows us to develop skills and make significant contributions to humankind.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>All good so far.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And don’t get me wrong on this next—in the person vs. shark, I save the person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Still, there’s a difference between an accidental encounter and a courted encounter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As athletes, we take great care to respect our bodies, should we not extend that same respect to our environment, others, to other creatures as well?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Should our athletic endeavours come at others’ expense?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Diana and her sharks disturb me.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Not as much as </span><a href="http://www.foodincmovie.com/"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt; line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Food Inc</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%; font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Times">., which I finally got around to watching, which lifts the veil on the food industry, exposing the insidious cycles of corporate control, government support, animal cruelty and, worst of all, how this fosters our diabetes epidemic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Fast-Food-Nation-Dark-All-American/dp/0060838582/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1311178686&sr=1-1"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Eric Schlosser</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: Times"> points out in the movie, if our food system of factory farming disdains and disrespects animal, so will we adopt this same mentality toward other living things, humans, strangers, foreigners, people with whom we disagree.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Both Diana’s sharks and Food Inc. reminded me of why I am a vegetarian.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I have been so (with some early recidivism) since I was sixteen, close to 2/3rds of my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Why?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">I recently came across a Sikh story, told in Tara Brach’s book, </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Radical-Acceptance-Embracing-Heart-Buddha/dp/0553380990/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1304539878&sr=1-1"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Radical Acceptance:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Embracing Your Life With the Heart of Buddha</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">, which conveyed, more lyrically than I ever could, why I made this choice. The story (and I quote directly from Brach’s book):<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt; line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Times">An aged spiritual master calls his two most devoted disciples to the garden in front of his hut.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Gravely, he gives each one a chicken and instructs them, “Go to where no one can see, and kill the chicken.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>One of the men immediately goes behind his shed, picks up an ax and chops off his chicken’s head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The other wanders around for hours, and finally returns to his master, the chicken still alive and in hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>“Well, what happened?” the teacher asks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The disciple responds, “I can’t find a place to kill the chicken where no one can see me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Everywhere I go, the chicken sees.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <span style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-bidi-font-family: Times;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US">Indeed. I cannot eat something, or rather some formerly living creature, which I could not look in the eye, and then kill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The rule is my own, for me (I would not impose it on you), because not only the chicken sees, but also I see myself, and then I must live with myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>One of the cornerstones of health, something we are hyper-keyed into as athletes, is the ability to live comfortably with oneself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As much thought as we give to our workouts, that and much more we need to give to others in the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span><!--EndFragment-->RunLikeAGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15654268860856907306noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428482113754894806.post-19020171627091544072011-07-17T19:57:00.001-04:002011-07-17T19:59:07.739-04:00In Sickness and In HealthMy latest post on <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/mina-samuels/in-sickness-and-in-health_b_895827.html">HuffPo</a><div><br /></div><div><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">The words of the traditional marriage vow might just as easily apply in any circumstance in which we join our lives with another’s, through marriage, civil union, or any other long-term domestic partnership, through birthing or adopting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The promise is not always explicit, but it’s there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I will not abandon you in your time of need. Of course, we often do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We’re human and imperfect after all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Of all the people to whom we might owe this obligation, in sickness and in health, there is one we often don’t notice, one who we cannot abandon, except through the most radical means; and that is our self.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">I am stuck with me, no matter what.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’ve recently had a disconcertingly up-close-and-personal engagement with my own obligation to myself in sickness.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Five weeks ago I was colonized by bronchitis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>All during the week prior I’d been clearing my throat to the point of annoyance, my partner looking at me sideways as I ahem-ahem-ahem-ahemmed, as if I was trying to get everyone’s attention to make a very important point. Out for a morning ride with a friend, I felt exhausted and cough-y, and finally gave up on the workout and headed home after only 2 of our usual 3 loops of the park.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I got into bed and there I stayed, for one week, then another, and another.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And the bed became the couch, because in the end I couldn’t get in and out of bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>My coughing so severe, that I fractured ribs on both sides.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">I have been very lucky in life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’ve never broken a bone. I’ve never been sick for anything longer than 5 days, and even then, not felled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Even when I had chicken pox a few years ago, an experience that can be gruesome for adults in a way it apparently isn’t for children, I slipped through the illness with relative ease.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Last year when I sliced open my knee and had stitches, I was unable to do anything but walk for a couple of weeks, but the pain was manageable, the end clearly in sight from the outset.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">So these past weeks have been unlike anything I’ve been through before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">I should start by saying—I am still very lucky.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Bronchitis and fractured ribs are nothing, in the grand scheme of the available perils, and yet it is the very mundane-ness, which caught me short.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>For so little, I felt that I had stepped out of the current of my own life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The world was moving on around me, but I had slowed to a near stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Week by week, I cancelled everything on my calendar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>My most important obligation was to myself, to get well. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Things I couldn’t do with bronchitis (or at least not without inciting coughing almost to the point of vomiting):<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">--breathe deeply<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">--roll over in bed<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">--eat dairy, or vinegar, or anything spicy, and any number of other foods, which seemed to change by the day<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">--drink seltzer, or juice, or alcohol<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">--laugh<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Things I couldn’t do with fractured ribs (or at least not without pain on the Richter scale):<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">--breathe deeply<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">--lean over the sink to wash my face or brush my teeth, not to mention spit out the toothpaste with any force…wash my hair<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">--open and close the front door of my apartment and my apartment building<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">--put on and take off underwear<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">--pick up my cat for a dose of purr-therapy<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">--take a full jug of homemade iced tea out of the fridge<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">--laugh<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">At some point along the way, I read a Buddhist blog, which encouraged slowing down, savouring, for example, each small sip of a glass of water—something I was forced into doing by circumstances. And while I agree that stillness and noticing the moments in our lives is a practice worth cultivating, I recognized too, as I hadn’t before, how much joy I take in gulping down my water, of devouring life with gusto.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Noticing the small pleasures does not always require that they be slow and measured.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It is the noticing that matters more than the stillness. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But until I can zoom and gorge and guzzle again, I am noticing slow-style.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Almost daily I re-jig my expectations of myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’ve been walking in the morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>At first I walked at quarter speed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I wanted, still want to cry at times, when a fleet woman glides by, legs roped with working muscles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But I’m also enjoying the new pace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I have had time to notice the morning dogs—the big white dog of uncertain breed, with the turned out front right paw, the panting Bulldog, the fresh shaven Yorkie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Just yesterday as I caught up to a man walking slowly ahead of me, I smelled his baby before I saw the infant in his arms, that sour-milk-powdery-sleep scent of the first months of life. Running, I would never have caught that whiff, I would have passed by too quickly. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In low moments, when I longed to sink beneath the waters of self-pity (I hope I am beyond that stage now, but nothing is sure), I wondered if I’d ever get better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I wondered who <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">I</i> was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I wanted an explanation of why I was sick, but one that would jibe with who I thought myself to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In the beginning, I tried to deny the pain. I like to think of myself as having a high tolerance; therefore I shouldn’t feel so much pain from coughing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When I learned that I’d fractured several ribs, the lens re-focused.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Oh yes, this is painful, but I have a high tolerance, so I’ll get through this without depending on the prescribed painkillers. Not so easy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I needed to re-assess. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I wanted, in sickness, to hang onto some preconceived notion of strength and resilience with which I identified myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As if I might lose myself. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">But I am right here, where I have always been, by my side, in sickness and in health.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I have some weeks to go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I don’t know how many.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I know that one day I will wake up and go about my day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>At first, I won’t notice that there is no coughing to notice, no pain to notice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then I will.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Notice. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I will think, “I’m myself again.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But it won’t be true.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’m myself now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>That is a thing worth noticing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div>RunLikeAGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15654268860856907306noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428482113754894806.post-67207959100433706902011-07-01T09:48:00.000-04:002011-07-01T09:50:04.657-04:00Blueprint for a Bogey<div><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">I love go-carting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I need only get behind the wheel of a go-cart and I start laughing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>On my middle brother’s wedding day, we took him go-carting in the morning, and we laughed more than we drove.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I recently lucked upon an exhibit at the </span><a href="http://www.glasgowlife.org.uk/museums/our-museums/goma/whats-on/exhibitions/Pages/home.aspx"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Glasgow Gallery of Modern Art</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times"> called, “Blueprint for a Bogey.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In Glasgow, a bogey refers to a homemade go-cart, built of whatever is around, and then driven with reckless abandon by their child-creators.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The exhibit was about “play”—the way in which we interfere with or restrict children’s instinctive desire to play, how we seem to lose our innate ability to play as adults, and how we might reclaim that prerogative. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Did you furrow your brow at that last sentence and think, “Playing isn’t appropriate for adults,” or some version of that thought?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As adults we are so good at burdening ourselves with responsibilities, obligations, and expectations, that we sometimes feel shackled to our lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Playing is the opposite—free, light, spacious, and unbounded. After all, play is a creative engagement with the world, without end, or purpose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Sounds grand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Yet, as adults, we too often find it challenging to play.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Everything we do has to have an agenda, even things that look, at first blush, like play, are, on closer examination, really pursuits in which we are aiming toward a goal—to achieve a certain skill level, to do a race or event, to get fit or lose weight, to win.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">I was recently out playing on my </span><a href="http://www.gibbon-slacklines.com/cms/front_content.php?idcat=2&lang=1"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">slackline</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: Times"> with my partner. </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:16.0pt; line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">That is, a tightrope-like piece of webbing, easily secured around two nicely spaced trees; and, in our case, low to the soft, grassy ground.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>A dog-walking woman asked,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>“Are you training for something?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Her question gave me pause. My only objective was to have fun; to relax; to enjoy hanging out in the park, listening to the thump of the basketball on the nearby court, watching the amazing variety of dogs as they sashayed past; to lean up against the fat tree and feel the rough ridges of bark digging into my back when it wasn’t my turn on the line.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Was I being too aimless?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Did I need to get more serious?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">As adults we like to have an answer to the question “why” when we are doing something. We feel uncomfortable if there’s no good reason to pursue a particular activity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Add to that that we feel uncomfortable if we aren’t good at something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We reach a certain age and think we ought to be accomplished at everything we pursue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Think—how limiting is our desire or need to be expert.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Add on top of that our fear of looking foolish, which increases with our age.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Think more—how limiting is our desire or need to be thought well of. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Playing unfetters us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And what a relief it is to live, even if for only short interludes, in the wide-open expanse of playtime.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>How much more creativity and energy we will be able to bring to the rest of our lives. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Only days after I saw the Glasgow exhibit, a group of girlfriends took me out for a “mystery activity” night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was instructed to meet them on a particular corner, wearing casual clothes, no skirt or dress.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When I saw the mechanical bull in the middle of the appointed venue, I almost balked. No way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Not with people watching me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’d make a fool of myself (I didn’t know at the time that Sex & the City had apparently bestowed a certain cool on the activity).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then I stopped to think more about that last—foolish?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In whose eyes?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Why?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And why did I care?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">I rode the bull.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was fun, and almost as exhilarating as go-carting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Like a child, I could have gotten right back on for a second ride. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div><div><br /></div>Re-posted from <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/mina-samuels/blueprint-for-a-bogey_b_886811.html">Huffington Post</a>RunLikeAGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15654268860856907306noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428482113754894806.post-44516074081589384782011-06-17T15:30:00.001-04:002011-06-17T15:32:32.491-04:00First Huff Post...Just up--my first piece on Huffington Post: <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/mina-samuels/womens-empowerment-goals_b_876682.html">The Unifying Goal or The Goal of Everything</a>.<div><br /></div><div>Check it out.</div>RunLikeAGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15654268860856907306noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428482113754894806.post-21876774004939113342011-06-13T11:02:00.002-04:002011-06-13T11:35:10.321-04:00If You Like That...Then You'll Like This<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;">I recently read Kristin Armstrong’s new book, </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Mile-Markers-Important-Reasons-Women/dp/1609611063/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1307395938&sr=1-1"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;">Mile Markers: The 26.2 Most Important Reasons Why Women Run</span></i></b></a><span style="mso-bidi-line-height: 150%;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was moved to read the book, because in looking at my own book on amazon.com, I’d noticed that hers came up as both one of the “buy these two books together” books, and as one of the “people who bought RLAG, also bought…” books.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So I wanted to read what other books my readers were reading. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;">First, you are probably all much more “in the know” than I am, but I didn’t realize she was “the” Kristin Armstrong, if I’d ever actually internalized Lance Armstrong’s (he of so many Tour de France victories) ex-wife’s name.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In fact, to own up to my exceeding dimness on the day I read the book, I thought it was an interesting coincidence that the author, whose last name was Armstrong, had a “wasband” (her neologism, which I loved), whose name was Lance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Her ex-ness is not really relevant to the book, except to the extent that she took up professional writing and serious running post-divorce, which is an impressive and happy state of affairs, for we, her readers, and, according to her in her book, for her, too; because Kristin has a lot that’s lovely to say about running and its place in our lives, or more precisely—in our hearts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;">Here’s just a few bits I liked…<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;">The expression “sweat sisters,” which she uses to describe the girlfriends we run with and pour our hearts out too and seek solace from and laugh with and give solace to and laugh with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She doesn’t mention them, but I’d add sweat brothers, too.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;">She refers to studies (which I haven’t yet been able to track down, but which sound intuitively and common-sensically right on) that show “that the best way to foster positive body image in girls is for their mothers to speak kindly and positively about their own bodies…” Kristin goes on to say that she is careful to make a point of complimenting her own figure in earshot of her daughters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Even better, of course, would be if she actually believed the compliments enough to say them to herself out of earshot of her daughters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But hey, I’m not that evolved yet, so I can’t demand it of others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;">When talking about identity and how running can be a touchstone of identity in hard times, she writes, “[W]hen we breathe deeply into one passion, we provide oxygen for others.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Oh yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I like that idea of oxygenating all our passions, by beginning with one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;">On confidence and setting an example of confidence for others, she writes, “We have to be willing to be seen if we want to earn the relationship to be understood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>If our lips are moving but our actions don’t match, we become a badly dubbed foreign film, without benefit of subtitles.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>A bit of a mash-up metaphor, but very apt and effective. I remember the French-dubbed version of Sex & The City (the movie) I saw in a tiny gymnasium in Southern France.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It turns out there’s not much to dubbing when a large proportion of the dialogue is just squeaks and squeals over handbags and shoes. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;">And on hills, “You simply cannot become soft or complacent if you seek hills on purpose. You practice something enough times when it doesn’t count, you can bet your shapely bottom that you will have what it takes when it does.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And to give context, she means more than just the hills we run, she means all the stand-ins for hills we face in our lives. This passage vividly reminded me of the repeated passages of Owen and John practicing “The Shot” in </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Prayer-Owen-Meany-Modern-Library/dp/0679642595/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1307398125&sr=1-1"><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;">A Prayer for Owen Meany</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;">, about which I’ll say no more, for those of you who haven’t read it…except this—read the book.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I read it in one sitting during law school exams, when I should have been studying, but didn’t, because I couldn’t put the book down (p.s. I did very well on the exams).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Anyway, as Kristin so aptly points out, hills are a way of practicing our own “Shots,” preparing for the unexpected rigours that assail us in life.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%"><span style="mso-bidi-line-height:150%;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:Times;font-size:15.0pt;">Made me look forward to my summer runs in the mountains of CA.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->RunLikeAGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15654268860856907306noreply@blogger.com