The Pain Ends, Lives Changed Is Forever…

A few months back, you may recall a post about being a part of a REAL RACE TEAM!!!  A brief recap, this team is running in various marathons and half marathons raising funds for a ministry that provides pastoral care for people in full-time ministry.  They do this by providing cost-free retreats for these people so they can rest, recharge, and hear God’s voice in fresh new ways…all so they can be more effective in the ministry they have been called to.

You may also recall that I had declared a personal goal of raising $1000.00 for this ministry by running the Nashville Half Marathon.  My life was changed as a volunteer at one of these retreats and I saw other lives changed and continue to hear about the work of those same missionaries and pastors that came for a time of rest and are now continuing to change lives.

I am quite pleased and thankful and a bit overwhelmed to be able to report that thanks to a whole bunch of really generous people, that goal has not only been reached, but it has been exceeded!!!!  My unofficial count is $1174.00 which will sponsor almost 4 people to attend a week-long retreat!

Thank You!!  Thank You!!  Thank You!!  and for those who were not able to give financially, but have been with me in prayer or in encouragement as I trained for this race and in the rest of my journey….thank you too!!  All the methods of generous giving have not gone unnoticed or unfelt!

Now for those of you who care to know ALL the details of how my Nashville Half Marathon went…read on friends.  If you have been around a while, you know my race reports get quite lengthy.  The short version is in a previous post called “it’s Coming.”

I traveled to Nashville once again with a group of friends, some who ran and some who came simply to cheer!(but being a race fan involves so much more than cheering when it is for me!)  The crew this year consisted of Ben, Jen, Leann, Aaron, Erin, Mitch, Holly, and Rebecca…and we met up with my cousins down there, Thomas and Elizabeth.

The Crew of fans and runners, sans Thomas...

Once again, it was a super fun trip with lots of laughter.  It is those memories that make me forget the struggle and want to do it again next year.

This year, I went into Nashville, feeling very under trained.  I had gotten sick smack in the middle of my training and didn’t run for 3 weeks.  In fact, I didn’t workout at all during that time.  As I headed into Nashville, my  longest run was 8.5 miles.  I knew it would be painful.  I knew it would be rough.  I knew what I had done to train for this last year and I knew I truly was not nearly as prepared and it was painful then.  But I also knew, I would do my best.  I would give it my all…and I would cross that finish line.

On Friday, after spending the day in Downtown Nashville and getting our race numbers, we came back to my cousin Mike and Catherine’s for what seems to be the annual pre-race spaghetti dinner.  All was well and good.  Lots of laughter.  Elizabeth is a riot.  Super dramatic and a great story-teller so we were quite entertained.

Soon though it was time to head to bed and suddenly…I was anxious.  Suddenly I am in a panic as I gather my race gear for the next day and make sure I have everything.  I double and triple checked everything…then I went and took a shower and checked everything again…and I knew….just like last year, sleep was not going to come easily.   I told Mike it was time to put in a movie and I immediately began texting Coach.  Lo and behold…I was asleep on the couch by 10 PM.  I kid you not, this is a miracle.  Last year…well…it was at least 1 AM before I fell asleep and then it was fitful at best.

I awoke in a panic on race morning and quickly got ready.  This didn’t take too much doing since I had slept in my running clothes.  (I told you I was a bit nervous).  All I had to do was put on some deodorant, brush my teeth, my shoes and my bib # had to go on and eat some breakfast. Oh and put my hair in a ponytail.  Crap!  don’t forget the heart rate monitor!

We headed downtown by 5:30 AM.  It was a brisk, early, Nashville morning and was predicted to be 80 degrees and cloudless.   Jen and I decided that regardless of where our bib numbers told us we had to start, we would start in the same corral, even though we knew we would both run our own pace and quickly separate.

While standing there, I realized I never put on any sunscreen.  I knew this would be a painful race already and I knew I didn’t want to have to deal with the pain of sunburn too…so I texted my #1 Race fan, Aaron, one question.  “Does Leann have her sunscreen on her?”  The message was clear, regardless of whether she does or not, I need some.   I put my phone away, it was time to run, knowing that somehow, I would be taken care of and protected from the sun’s rays.

And I was.

Aaron and Leann ran around the streets of Nashville and found a gas station that had sunscreen.  Erin stayed on the course to catch up with me somewhere around mile 3 and then called the others to let them know where I was…they then sprinted and caught up to us and ran with me as I applied some sunscreen (while running-because the hula hooping walkers were close behind and I could NOT let them pass me).  Then they sent me on my way…and told me they would see me at mile 8 to run me in.

Now you  may want to note, to be a race fan of mine, you may be called on to do some actual work.  These guys are amazing friends to have in your corner on race day…and I am not sure I could ever do a distance race like this without them there nor would I want to.

Backing up a bit, my cousin Elizabeth made a special IPOD playlist for me for my run.  I had no idea what was really on it.  She was playing through so much music Friday night, I just didn’t know what made the cut and what didn’t.  At about mile 1.5 I almost fell over laughing as a song she joked about putting on there, was actually put on there.  Suddenly I heard…

“when you know the notes to sing….you can sing most anything….do…re..mi…”

For about half a mile I was singing at the top pf my lungs (because who can’t sing to this song) and skipping and frolicking as if I were on the grassy hills of Austria.  Ridiculous.  I am used to getting looks and comments when I run…I mostly ignore them…but this was looks and comments of a whole nutha level!

So now, I have skipped and frolicked, I am sunscreened up, the hills are growing by leaps and bounds(I swear they are bigger than last year), I have already stopped at a gas station at mile 1 to go to the bathroom(just like last year)…and I am at about mile 5 when I glance over and what do I see…

a cloud of pink is on my right.  Yes folks, the freaking hula hooping walkers are starting to pass me by!  It was here, I started to really get discouraged and I began to fight.

I looked at a girl who was trying to be encouraging, thanked her…then I cursed the hula hoops (not the people just the hoops) under my breath and sprinted to get ahead of them.

We kept up this little dance of going back and forth for about a mile or two, before they passed me and I just couldn’t sprint long enough to get a good lead on them.

I began counting the miles until I saw my fans/friends again.  The hills felt obnoxiously bigger and longer than last year.

At various points I would run with a woman who was walking.  She was awesome.  She came with a friend and was supposed to be walking with her, but her friend kept ditching her, so she walked alone with an amazing attitude.  She really kept me going at times because I would somehow catch her or she would catch me at a point where I really just wanted to be done and we would talk for a bit.

At about mile 7, I really was praying for mile 8 to come quick.  My achilles was starting to hurt(never had that body part hurt before) and the last  2 aid stations had run out of water and cytomax.  I was hot.  Overheating I think and seriously needed water.  I had some gatorade in my bottle but was nervous to drink that too fast.  I had also been eating shot blocks like crazy and really just needed water to get rid of that sick, too sweet taste in  my mouth.  To pass the time, I talked to 2 ladies who were walking the course for a bit.  Then I looked back and saw the official tale vehicle.

Crap!  There aren’t that many people behind me if the tale vehicle is right there!!

I told the ladies I had to go, that as long as I wasn’t last, I could be ok…

I ran through a stretch of outdoor cafe areas that was full of people sitting, eating and watching the race.  I was the only runner around and suddenly one person stood up and started cheering and yelling and before I knew it, all along both sides of the street, everyone was standing and cheering and shouting at me to keep going.  I looked around and truly I was the only one around.   I realized they were cheering for ME!!!  I almost cried…and to push back the tears I started raising the roof and gesturing for more cheers…I had to make light or I would have seriously fallen down crying.

Everything hurt.  I was so tired and I knew I just had to keep going.  I was almost to mile 8…I would see my friends soon…At this point I am walking up the bigger hills and running everything in between.  I could go faster that way.

Soon I looked up and I saw the most wonderful sight in the world.  When you are out running and you feel physically awful and you are wondering if you can even finish or if you should finish, there is nothing better to see than…a friend.  Aaron was there….ready to run with me.   Thank God he had water in his bag…and was more than willing to share.

He checked in with how I was doing…and we ran.  Soon Leann joined us with her camel back on, and I moved to her left and started drinking from her straw while we ran.

Leann took over the administering of my nutrition and hydration.  She remembered that Ben had told me that I should be eating a shot block ever 15 minutes or so.  I was NOT eating them that frequently any more.  I like them but at this point I was so sick of them, it wasn’t even funny.  They tasted far too sweet. At some point Aaron and Leann took over the carrying of my ipod, my hip pack and my water bottle.

I filled my water bottle with water from a hose at some point and every 15 minutes this girl was offering me a shot block and water.  At mile 10 Aaron peeled off to go meet Jen at the finish line with her fresh t-shirt.  So it was Leann and I from 10 on.  I was ready to kill her and her shot blocks and her “encouragement” to keep running.

Now to her credit, I SUCK at communication during times like these.  In my mind, I was doing all sorts of things.  I was assessing my achilles for injury or just use pain.  Since it was a new pain I was hesitant to push it too hard and risk blowing it out.  I was also getting sick to my stomach from all the shot blocks and the water in my bottle was actually a really weak water/gatorade mix that was awful.  So sweet Leann is just trying to get me to the finish line without me passing out and I am refusing her nutrition and hydration for perfectly valid reasons that I was not communicating to her.  Nor was I communicating how sharp the pain was getting in my achilles.

We ran and walked for 2 more miles, mostly walking and slowly so.  As we hit the 12 mile marker, we got stopped by a van.  Yes a SAG van.  I was too slow on the course.  If I wanted to continue on I had to sign a waiver or I could get in the van and they would drive me to mile 13 and I could still cross the finish line.  Neither option seemed good in my head.

All I remembered about mile 12-13 was that it was a long slow uphill battle with a final fast downhill into the finish line.  I knew at my current pacing it would be another 30-40 minutes before I got to the finish line…and I knew that my achilles was hurting pretty bad.   I did not know the course to go it alone and I did not know if I had it in me to go another 30-40 minutes.  Leann believed I did.  But I did not…and regrettably, I chose the van.

As soon as I got in and the doors closed I regretted my decision.  I began to second guess myself big time and at the same time, I knew I had given it my all on that course.  It was tough.  Probably as tough as the River Bank Run last year, and I pushed through a lot of it when I really wanted to quit.  So while I second guessed myself, I did not beat myself up.

At mile 13 I got out and hobbled my way to the finish line, with Leann  and  Aaron and Erin running along the fence cheering me on.I crossed the finish line, knowing I didn’t really finish with a deep sense of disappointment.  But I didn’t linger in that space.  I posed for post race pictures that seemed to be mandatory before they would let you into the area where they have the food…and I couldn’t wait to get there.

For the first time ever, I wanted food immediately following a run.  I RARELY eat the post race food.  This time, I did.

I got food, and drink and headed out to meet my friends and to rest and then find the other group of us.

While waiting to hear back from the other half of us, we sat on a curb, ate food and I talked to Coach…who completely understood the odd mixture of deep disappointment and pride in my accomplishment.  It was good to talk to him.

Ben showed up and he helped me assess my achilles….then we got the phone call.

Holly called to tell us we had to meet her and the others by the ambulance on the bridge at the  mile 13 marker.

We raced over there…(ok I tried to race over there) to find Mitch had passed out an hour after he finished his race and was being treated for cuts and scrapes from his fall.  While scary, in the end he turned out to be ok…Thank God…

I limped for the rest of the day.  We had pizza for lunch and sushi for dinner and hit downtown Nashville for a while before heading back to sleep.

I even limped the next 2 days…then I was all better.  My pain over this race has long since ended.  In fact it is far enough in the past for me to begin wondering and pondering where next year’s half marathon will be…we all insist it will NOT be Nashville but rather somewhere flat.  However, there are groups of people getting ready to head into week-long retreats whose lives will be changed forever…and as their lives are changed, they will be refreshed to go be a catalyst for change in others lives…the kind of change that lasts forever…and that…my friends is worth running/limping/walking/crying/praying for!

Progressive

You all have read about the amazing Coach and all the ways he has encouraged me, motivated me, and gently chided me over the years all in efforts to see me succeed.

Well, there is a new guy in town who is proving to be an East Side version of Coach.  His name is Steve and he looks NOTHING like Coach, except they are both incredibly tall.   However, sometimes, he says things, texts things, or does things that is soooo incredibly Coach-esque that I have had to double-check the source (text address etc) to make sure I am responding to the right person.  It is weird.

So here is a recent thing I have been wanting to blog about and since I don’t really want to get ready for work yet…now seems to be the perfect time.

I am a slow runner.  I know this. 17 minute miles is NOT gonna win any races, but it WILL get me to the finish line, which is ultimately all I care about.  Steve does NOT like when I call myself slow.  Some mumbo jumbo about what you tell yourself becomes the reality(I am teasing you Steve about the mumbo jumbo, I get it).

We have gone back and forth with him trying to get me to stop calling myself slow.

He would tell me why I am not slow and I would come back with proof that I am.  For me, it turned into somewhat of a joke as I tried to convince him that I was and am in fact SLOW!One night, I was meeting Steve and Sharon(she will be getting and introduction of her own soon)for dinner and I had just posted on his FB wall that anyone who takes 2.75 hours to run 8.5 miles CERTAINLY qualifies as slow, right.

His response was somewhat threatening and ominous as he simply told me he had words for me…at dinner.

I show up to dinner, somewhat nervous because, well I don’t know Steve that well and I have no idea what kind of words he has for me and since he is Coach-esque, this could be really funny or it could be a truth in love kinda talk(which with Coach I end up crying)

It was funny.

Steve showed up and handed me 4 pages of web definitions of a word that he believes describes me far more accurately than SLOW.  I got a good laugh out of this and a good head shake as I had to double-check WHO just gave me this….Steve or Coach.

The word you may ask?

Progressive.

some of its many definitions include:

• proceeding or progressing by steps or degrees
• Moving forward; advancing.
• Proceeding in steps; continuing steadily by increments

Steve and Sharon(introduction coming soon)

So progressive I am…oh and in Nashville this year….I was ULTRA progressive 🙂

Demond, thanks for introducing me to these wonderful folks, they have been a great encouragement to me.

It’s Coming…

It's all about the bling

I know.  You guys are all looking for the Nashville report.  It is coming.  I have been really working to get to bed earlier this week AND this week seems to have a lot of things going on in the evening that have kept me busy until 9 PM or later…meal prep, a weird non-massage….so I haven’t been able to sit down and write my usual report….but it is coming.

Here is the short story for those of you who don’t care to read my mile long report.

I went.

It was awful hard.

I ran….sort of.

I finished.  sort of.

I have amazing friends and the criteria for being a fan at one of my races has increased.  Applications being taken.

I will never do a race like this again…when I KNOW I am under trained for it.

Details coming this weekend!

Oh and as much as I SAY I am never doing this again…I am already looking forward to next year…

Kensington Fears

In preparation for Nashville, I had two more really long runs scheduled before I begin to taper off.  Today was one of them.  In my typical fashion I procrastinated all day finding all sorts of things to be doing instead of just getting out there, but I am ok with that.  I really DO like running in the evening.  However part of my day was spent going back and forth between where to run my 9 miles at.  I could go to Kensington Park where it is a very clear 8.5 mile path around the park…but it is constant rolling hills with a few really big ones thrown in for good measure.  My other option was to go play a guessing game with mileage and run trails, which is my absolute favorite place to run.  Hills and guaranteed mileage would be great training for Nashville, but trails make me oh so happy and are such fun!

I chose Kensington and the hills.

It was a fantastic choice.  I forget sometimes the beauty that is to be beheld at Kensington. Not to mention, there are so many runners and cyclists and walkers out there, you can’t help but feel part of some sort of group even when running alone as you greet and encourage each other along the way.  And I must say, it was nice this year to be ABLE to greet and encourage other runners.  I remember last year not having enough breathe in me to even acknowledge there greeting to me!

As I ran, I had a plan in my head that to do my 9 I would run out 4.5 miles then turn around and come back.   In my mind, by doing this I could do 2 things.  1.  It might help me to avoid the “hill from hell” by turning around before reaching it. and 2.  I wouldn’t have to fight the battle of passing my car to go an extra 1/4 mile and come back to make it an even 9.  This was a perfectly acceptable plan.  I mean, I am doing constant hills so who cares if I manage to skip the “hell from hell”, right?

Well, as I ran, I realized I have NEVER run completely around Kensington.  Last year I ran here but the most I ran here was 6 miles.  3 out and 3 back.  So I didn’t KNOW that the “hill from hell” came in at mile 3.5!  There was no avoiding this hill.  Ironically, just as I was climbing it the park ranger happened to come down the road and stopped  to watch me get up it.  I wonder what he was thinking.  Was he concerned?  Amused?  I was determined to give him a show, so I kept running when I wanted to walk.  I kept running when I thought I had no oxygen left in me.  And after I got to the top, he waved and left.

So now I am thinking to myself, so why not go all the way around, Kim?  You made it up the ONE hill you didn’t want to hit.  Besides, once you hit mile 4.5 you are more than halfway around this place.  Just keep going forward!

I found myself having an argument with myself.  1.  That wasn’t the plan!  I can’t just change the plan mid run!  Or can I?  2. I found myself filled with anxiety because I know what lays behind me.  I know the path I have just run and even if it meant climbing back up the “hill from hell” it is familiar territory to me.  It is now my comfort zone and oh how I don’t like to be uncomfortable.

I realized, the only thing stopping me from moving forward was fear. Fear of the unknown.  Fear of an unknown path.  What if there is ANOTHER “hill from hell” that I don’t know about?  What if it gets dark, how will I know the path to get back?

I began to wonder how often I let fear of the unknown stop me in this journey.  I know fear stops me all the time on the stairmaster.  I wonder how fear is stopping me from achieving my goals.  How often do I return to the familiar and the comfortable out of fear instead of pressing forward and gaining new ground.  How much of this plateau is not really a plateau but my own fear and my own affinity towards comfort?

Well, this line of questioning just pissed me right off!  And I decided, at LEAST for this run, fear would not stop me.  So as I came upon the 4.5 mile mark and my previously planned turning point, I gave that marker the finger and said out loud, “Fuck being comfortable!”  (Coach, you would be proud, it was such an appropriate use of a word I rarely use!)

I ran on past that marker and as I ran I did get a bit scared as I ran on paths unfamiliar.  I ran up some big hills and some little ones.  I ran along the lakes edge on one of the few flat stretches on this whole course.  I ran in the dark and missed the 8 mile marker.  And when I finally got to my car and the newly planned point of going past it to the 1/4 mile marker, I found the park ranger waiting for me so he could clear the lot.  So I stopped running.

Despite fears, I ran 8.5 miles of hills straight without stopping to walk. I did stop to dig my shot blocks out of my bag and once to let some geese cross my path.  But there was not one hill I walked up.  I ran head first into unknown territory and I lived to blog about it.

What does this mean for the rest of my journey?  I only hope that I will recognize when I am being stopped by fear and that I will have the courage to press on through the fear and anxiety to new territory, to new Beauty.

“Run For Their Lives”

Who knew that 2 years ago when I started running that I would ever be let on an official race team?

Who knew that as slow as I run, a race team would welcome me with open arms?

Who knew that my running could help change lives?

Really?  Is it all that?

Yup.

And so much more…folks.  So much more.  Let me explain.

Three years ago I had an opportunity to volunteer with an organization called Barnabas International.  BI does several things but their focus is pastoral care to those in full-time ministry whether it is overseas missions work or right here at home in America.  One of their ministry areas is a retreat they put together called E.L.I.M.  This is a week-long retreat for ministry workers to come to where they can rest, recharge, and in so doing perhaps hear God’s voice and direction for their lives in fresh ways.  This retreat provides, meals and lodging as well as people ready and available to be with them in whatever capacity they might need, whether it is prayer support, a listening ear, counsel, or someone to play a game or take a walk with.

I got to be one of those volunteers 3 years ago, and while I went to serve, my life was changed. It was at this retreat that God spoke clearly to me about his intent to heal my heart from the sexual abuse I went through as a child. It was here that I would say that my commitment to this journey to Beautiful began.

Besides, what I gained, I met some amazing people who are doing amazing work in the world. I have met a woman who has a vision for providing hand pedaled bikes and trikes to people in 3rd world countries. I have met a woman who works on Bible translation work in Africa, another woman who works with children in another part of Africa, then there are my friends in France who are making such a difference in their neighborhood-one conversation at a time.  I met so many more that week who are making a difference for Christ in the world and who desperately needed a time of rest and refreshment so that they could go back out into the world.

The neat thing about this retreat is that the guests come free, as long  as there are scholarship funds available.   Think about your own pastor or missionary friends.  They don’t often have tons of extra money to spend on themselves for a week like this.  Couldn’t they use a time of refreshment?

This is where my running comes in.  I have joined the ELIM race team and am now running the Nashville Half Marathon with not only a finish time goal but a dollar goal to raise by the time I get there on April 30th.  This time it is not a matter of proving I can.  I know I can.  This time I am “Running For Their Lives”! I would love to be able to raise $1000.00 for this cause and to be able to sponsor at least 3 people to be able to attend a retreat this summer.

I don’t always feel like a “real” runner.  But despite my feelings, I am so very proud to be able to be accepted on to this race team and to be able to raise funds for an organization that by taking care of the ministers, they are having a worldwide impact of grand proportions.

Would you consider sponsoring my race? All proceeds go directly to the ELIM Retreat scholarship fund. Your
gift is tax deductible you will receive a receipt. And I promise to follow up with you after the race to let you
know how our team—and I-did!

If you would like to know more about ELIM and their schedule of retreats and locations check this link out.

If you would like to find out more about the race team and where we are all running at go here.

And, if you would like to help me reach my goal and donate, go to this page and when you have to choose a runner, choose me.  I am the only Kim running!