To Mia

My mom FINALLY said we could get a dog.  After being screened by big adoption agencies that made us feel like we weren't good enough for the dogs they were trying to place, we decided to go to the local shelter that sat off the highway.  It would be our luck that on the day we went, there was one lonely dog in the kennel - the rest, the guy behind the desk told us, had been taken to an adoption fair in the town over.  They'd be back, he assured us, but of course, only the ones that hadn't gotten adopted would be left.

One dog came back.  She was a puppy, with paws that definitely had room to grow in to.  Her kennel-given name was Megan and she looked like a Siberian husky who had been rolled in Moab-red dirt a few times over.  She was perfect. 

Thirteen years later and on a Wednesday, my mom called to tell me that our Mia had died in the backyard sun, just beyond the door to my parent's bedroom.  It was at this door that she had always waited in the morning darkness for my dad so they could go on their daily run.  Those two were true buddies.  It could be said that you never know someone until you run in winter mornings along frozen trails that line dead corn fields.  These two had. 

Mia was a runner from the beginning.  In the cool evening between summer and fall on the day we brought her home, we took her up to the high school track and let her loose.  Part Siberian husky, part red heeler, she moved in a manner that would make Shalane Flanagan jealous.  Her love of it was contagious - soon we were all running around the track.  Were we chasing her or was she chasing us?  In the fall, she traveled with us to my middle school cross country meets, lolling around in her hot pink collar and matching leash.  She was the cutest.

She grew, we grew.  We moved, made new friends and started new jobs.  The line is familiar and the next one will be too.  She was loyal as any dog is expected to be. 

But her love for running never, ever, ever decreased.  As my mom cried in the background that Wednesday night, my dad reminisced on the memory of 13-mile-Saturdays, with Mia by his side. She was running half-marathons before I ever finished a 10k.  Tears dripped down my face onto my comforter as we laughed about how dad always brought water for himself, but never thought to bring any for Mia; she never complained.

She never made a peep, either, when the vet found tumors in her.  Not just one tumor.  But the next one.  And the one after that.  And those that continued to grow, those that my parents decided not to go after because they had had enough.  Mia had had enough.

Lucky for me, I never saw her as a dog I wouldn't want to remember.  I didn't have to see her splayed legs when she tried to get up to greet you as you walked out the back door.  I didn't have to see the huge chunk of her hindquarter gone as the one last attempt to give her more time.  I get to remember the hot pink collar.  And the long walks.  The way her hair used to come out in chunks in the summer because she had so much of it to shed; we used to say we should knit all of her hair into a sweater.  I get to remember what an amazing runner she was - a true running partner.

Thank You

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Google "pictures of soldiers" and many of the resulting images show soldiers and puppies.  Playing with them.  Feeding them.  Pups in the soldier's fatigue pockets.

I immediately smiled at these pictures.  And I couldn't help but wonder whether my boyfriend had ever found small pleasures like playing with street puppy while he was deployed.  I knew, though, that that Google search was barely scratching the surface of all of the pictures of war.  These were the happy pictures, the ones that we all fall in love with.  We all hope that those photos portray what war is - scary enough to have to carry around a gun, but stable enough to be able to find time to play with puppies.

Google "soldiers crying" and war becomes more real (as real as Googling images from the comfort of a climate-controlled building can be).  That is where the true, raw emotion comes through, the unrestrained sadness and grief.  These are the pictures that scare the living daylights out of me.  Why?  Because I imagine my boyfriend in those situations.  I imagine him seeing the same things that caused the soldiers in the pictures to shed those tears.  I imagine him being vulnerable and shaken, being rocked to his core by something as powerful as death.  And my breath catches.

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I'm still learning about the military, about what it means to be a Ranger, and how a soldier deals with the tragedy that is guaranteed.  I understand that I will never know everything.  And of course, I will never understand the feelings and thoughts and relationships that form while in war.

But I can be supportive and thankful.  And that extends beyond people who are in relationships with soldiers.  Sometimes, we just have to think of our soldiers & veterans like the puppies in the pictures.  They're scared and sometimes helpless.  What they probably need most is a hug.  And a lot of lovin'.

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Fast Girls Finish First

Firehiwot Dado of Ethiopia wins the 2011 NYC Marathon

 

I caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of my eye.  I could immediately tell she was a runner.  Not just a person who runs to lose weight or to clear her head (although those are always nice perks).  No, she was someone who had speed and had probably run while in college.  She had a purpose to each step and held her body in such a way that seemed comfortable, like she had had that same running form for years.  I watched her as she ran out of my line of sight.  She was fast.

As someone who considers herself a "runner," it's hard not to notice the fast girls that are in my neighborhood.  And to my surprise, there are a few.  There's the one I saw this morning (blonde ponytail, has a small dog she walks in the morning).  There's also a smaller chick with long brown hair who wears it in a braid.  She always runs in the road (which I think is one of the signs to spot a "real" runner).  And then there is a middle-aged woman who wears shortie shorts, but I haven't seen her in a while...maybe she moved.

Yes, I've made some stereotypes here of who a real runner is and the tendencies of such a person.  But these are the girls who get up early to squeeze in their run before the rest of the day happens.  These are the girls who probably eat well and often, but aren't afraid to down a few beers or an ice cream sandwich (like I did this weekend).  They cherish their GPS watch and favorite running bra, but still like to get all fancied up for a night with their special someone.

Sometimes, I consider myself one of them, one of a small group of women who aren't afraid to run in the dark or in the rain (like I did this weekend).  When people casually mention that they run, I have to throw my two cents in and one-up them.  You ran five miles yesterday?  Well, I ran five miles...uphill yesterday.

But sometimes, I am not them.  I lack motivation.  I don't have a set training plan to follow.  I eat one too many cookies even though I know I should stop reaching for them.  Sometimes, I take a week off  for the heck of it because I just don't feel like running. 

When I catch glimpses of these fast runners, I'm jealous.  They always look like they have a purpose to their running, like they know exactly what they are doing and what their mile splits are for each of the five routes they have around town.  I want their resolve to train for something big, for not being afraid to push to the absolute brink of exhaustion, both mentally and physically.  I want their swagger and confidence when they say, "Yeah, I'm a runner" because deep down, they know that running is their gift, their talent that other people just don't have, but something that others crave.

Maybe I'm a fast-girl-in-training.  Maybe I need to focus my mind and create a real training schedule for myself.  Maybe I need to work on my speed so that the next time someone sees me, they think...wow, she's fast.  And I'll feel confident enough to know they are right.

Check It Out!

There are days when I get bit by the creative bug, so I decided to change some things on my blog. 

I really wanted a super clean layout, so I scrapped the backgrounds.  Although they were fun to change, like a scarf that you layer on with your outfit, it wasn't giving off the correct vibe that I was looking for.  Hence...white...a totally under-appreciated color.

And then of course, I needed a new header.  While Austin was great as a placeholder for a while, I wanted to create something that captured me, what the blog was about and the fun that I hope we're all having here.  It needed to be punchy, but not KO-style.  Going with the theme of clean and sleek, I decided to use black and white pictures with pops of color - those are always fun.  And of course, the title had to be in typewriter set.

It's amazing how a few tweaks and changes can make the blog feel different and brand new.  I hope you all like it.  If you have suggestions for other additions, I'd love to hear them!

Losing (and Using) My Mind

 By Fatima Azimova

I recently stumbled upon the Run Barefoot Girl website, which is run by Caity McCardell, a barefoot runner (of course).  She does a podcast that focuses on women who run barefoot, who she thinks are underrepresented in the general population of barefoot runners.

I listened to an episode of her podcast with Dr. Cindra Kamphoff, a sports psychologist (and more specifically, a running psychologist) and was truly intrigued.  I have always been interested in the mind part of sports and how what goes on between our ears can have such a profound effect on how we perform on the field or on the dark streets in the morning.

Dr. Kamphoff works at a sports psychology consulting practice that specializes in the psychology of running.  She had several points that I thought I might explore in this post:

1. She suggested having a mantra that you repeat during hard runs or when you need a little motivation.  I've heard this on numerous forums and in Runner's World before.  Using a short quote or positive refrain can often help you focus on what you are doing and remind you of the reasons you run.  I've actually never had or used a mantra.  I've noticed that if I do repeat something over and over again in my head while running, it is the catchy part of the lyrics of the last song I heard while heading out the door.  It's almost as if these lyrics are "running" through my thoughts without being heavy or burdensome - it doesn't feel like I'm actually thinking them.  They seem to just be thoughts that my brain is repeating.  I guess the same thing could be true of a mantra.  Maybe I'll try to come up with a mantra that is personal and special to me and see if it works out.  Do you have a favorite saying that you use to pump yourself up?

2. Why is it that we don't train our brains while training our bodies?  We spend so much time doing fartleks and tempo runs and sit ups but we don't work out our minds.  Maybe it's because it's easy to get tips and tricks for every type of workout under the sun, but getting mental advice is few and far between.  Also, mentally, you are different from the next person.  And while a tempo workout can be modified based on your half-marathon goal time, what your brain tells you in the middle of a long run is not going to be the same as anyone else.  This part can be frustrating, because as someone who wants to learn more about how to train my brain, I would probably need to get a one-on-one consultation with someone like Dr. Kamphoff and wouldn't be able to "self-diagnose" (which believe me, I wouldn't want to do). It just seems that if I am really dedicated to getting into my own brain, I'd need someone to help me and wouldn't be able to do it on my own.  If you know of other ways to go about doing this based on help books or other materials, I'd love to hear about it.

3. Dr. Kamphoff had a really interesting point, saying that we need to go through the several stages of grief when we get injured.  Being a runner inevitably means that you are going to be injured.  You are going to feel aches and pains that make you question why you run in the first place.  But she suggests that it is ok to feel upset about being injured, but then move on to accepting that you are injured and stay positive about your recovery.  This really struck a cord with me today, especially, as I am starting to feel some top of the foot pain again (sigh).  I was in a really low mood early this morning when I woke up and realized that things hurt too much to go out on a run and that I should instead rest a bit.  While I definitely made the right decision, it still didn't make me feel any better...everyone hates being sidelined .  But as I got through the day and took into account Dr. Kamphoff's advice on accepting the "injury," I started to focus on what I could do to recover and get back on the right track.  And I understand that this isn't a full-blown injury that would cause someone to totally and completely lose faith in all things good, but it was still a small blow to my happiness.

So, what's my conclusion to all this?  Remember that your brain is in charge of everything, so take care of it and take the time to train it.  Believing in your mental abilities and being mentally tough can change how you physically feel and react to certain situations. 

A Few Good Reads

Spent my lunch break reading...and reading...and reading some more. There's almost nothing like getting lost in a good story.  But because of that, I didn't have the time to write a proper blog post.  So, instead, let me give you a brief look at what was taking up my time.

Remember His Name - Sports Illustrated

"Even as a boy Pat Tillman felt a destiny, a need to do the right thing whatever it cost him. When the World Trade Center was attacked on 9/11, he thought about what he had to do and then walked away from the NFL and became an Army Ranger...."

We all know Pat Tillman's story - football player leaves big bucks to help Uncle Sam win the war against terror, but dies on the battlefield.  The truth eventually comes out that he's killed by friendly fire.  The detail and powerful narrative of Tillman's story is incredibly well-done here.  Reading this, especially after the tenth anniversary of 9/11, and recently being semi-connected to Army Rangers, helped me to understand more about how the Army covered up Tillman's death.  It is mind boggling to think that a government branch, one that is in charge of the well-being of so many people, would continue to keep secrets, even after its poster boy died.  

Frank's Story - Runner's World

Frank Shorter is the father of the modern running boom. An enduringly popular speaker, he spins a captivating narrative about winning the 1972 Olympic Marathon. The story he hasn't told is the dark truth about his own father.

Wow. This was an eye-opening story about the physical and mental abuse that Frank Shorter endured at the hands of his own father, a beloved small-town doctor.  The memories that Frank has of being beaten were, at times, hard to read.  "Often Frank could smell liquor on his breath, which was both good news and bad. The bad news was that alcohol would juice his father's fury. The good news was that, if he were sufficiently enraged, he might grow befuddled and use the strap end of his belt instead of the buckle end."  This is the first time that Frank has ever spoken publicly, and at length, of his abusive father.  There's also a video interview of Frank within this story. I found it intriguing when Shorter said that he had learned to compartmentalize the pain while being beaten, and that translated to him being able to push a little harder while running in big races.

I believe that long-form journalism on the Internet, where it can be as long as the author wants, has become really, really well done in recent years.  Some of the places I find these types of stories are below:

Grantland - Any Bill Simmons fans out there?  This is his off-shoot site where he has some great writers contribute on sports and pop culture topics.

Runner's World - They do fantastic features/bios on runners.  While I read a lot of their smaller, more instructive pieces, I really enjoy the longer stuff they have to offer.

Longreads - They compile the best long-form journalism pieces on the web. Super great place to start for good reads.  Bonus: they tell you how long it should take you to read the piece, which helps when you only have an hour lunch break. :)

New York Magazine - Mainly read this for Will Leitch's sports articles (like his latest one about attitudes towards gay athletes, which was superb)

If you have other good sites for long-form journalism pieces, please, let me know!

Go Pre!

Quotes can be cliche.  They get overused and in turn, under-appreciated for the true tidbits of awesomeness that they really are.

I'm not the kind of person who spouts lines from movies ad nauseum.  Nor do I use lengthy quotes from important people to make me sound high and mighty.  But, there are a few quotes that I've taped to my computer or memorized to give me a little push when I need motivation.

The first is a no-brainer for a runner:

"To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the gift."
- Steve Prefontaine

This is a slice of magic.  I truly believe in what this quote says and while it can often be in reference to running, it has instead become my life mantra.  We each have at least one gift - how can we let it go to waste?


"A winner's strongest muscle is her heart."
- Cassie Campbell, Olympic Gold medalist, women's hockey

Each coach that anyone will ever have will tell you that your heart & spirit fuel teams to wins.  I bet Coach Taylor probably told his Panthers that as long as you put your heart into the game, everything else will fall into place.  Sometimes these sentiments fall flat - teams lose, no matter how much "heart" they showed.  But sometimes they make athletes (and people in general) realize that their motivation and drive will eventually, if not right away, bring them victory.



"Great effort springs naturally from great attitude."
- Woody Hayes, college football coach

I always try to have a positive attitude.  I've found that it makes everything else much easier: connecting with people, enjoying life, tackling projects.  When I have a good attitude, it is extremely hard to get me down and in turn, I want to do things.  I want to help where I can and affect change.  Everything starts from doing your best at keeping smile on your face.


"Promise me you'll always remember: You're braver than you believe, stronger than you seem and smarter than you think."
- Christopher Robin to Pooh

That Christopher Robin kid was brilliant beyond his young years.  We as human beings are burdened with doubt, something that other mammals do not have to deal with.  Doubt is an ugly, ugly thing and causes people to do crazy things, often giving up on themselves and others.  But as Christopher Robin says, you are better than doubt.  Do not ever sell yourself short.

Get It On!

It never failed.  On a daily basis, Abby Farson Pratt's face showed up on my newsfeed.  Every day, like clockwork, she posted a link to a new blog post on her blog, Little Stories.

I thank Abby for those daily posts.  Not because I read every single one (or even one every week).  But more so because I saw someone who was blogging regularly and realized that I could probably do the same.

You see, I want to be like Abby.  I want to have a consistently-updated blog that people find intriguing and want to read.  This blog started out strong but as of late, has been sorely neglected.  I fell into the trap of thinking that each post needed to be about running (because it started as a running blog, of course). But writing only about running pigeonholes me.  And no one likes to be put into a corner.
Small aside: why would your nickname ever be Baby? As a term of endearment, sure. But other than that...

Getting back on track here...the name of the blog is A Barefoot Journey.  Sure, I'll write about running when I get the urge.  That is, after all, a huge passion of mine.  But I'm also going to be writing about my journey through life (cliche, I know).  But there is so much out there to be explored and questioned and written about; how could I ever leave it by the wayside?

So, armed with a trusted buddy and some jump-starting inspiration, I'm ready to begin. Let's get it on!