4. Poetry Patience

258.jpgPatience.

For your voice.

For what to say.

For when to say it.

For who to say it to.

For mostly to listen.

Do you know what you are waiting for?

Do you know when it will be here?

Are we there yet?

Why?

What?

When?

Did you even know you were waiting?

Say something.

What are you waiting for?

What are YOU waiting for?

What ARE you waiting for?

WHAT?

Listen.

Carefully.

Listen for your own voice.

I’m finding mine here.

Thanks for your patience.

Thanks be to God.

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The Story of the Marathon Part 3

So 15 miles went by me and 16 did also. I kept running like Forrest and I was enjoying every minute. And while I pounded onto mile 17, my mind wandered to the memory of training…of running 16 miles the day after Thanksgiving. It started like this.

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It was the most ill prepared training run that I did. I had had too much food and drink the night before, but I was sticking to my training plan no matter what. I didn’t have enough KT tape to tape my feet and my good socks were dirty. I set out that morning ready for a long haul, and 6 miles in found myself in a common situation for runners. I had to go. And I was in the middle of nowhere. On a highway. All I can say is that I’m thankful to the rancher whose pasture I borrowed in a little grove of trees. I felt like a fugitive; it was an emergency.

I ran and ran on that training run until I could feel the blister forming on the bottom of my foot. It was the longest I had ever run, and I struggled hard from mile 14 on. I remembered the very moment my watch said 16 miles, I slowed to a walk. My muscles had tightened and I bent over to stretch…then I saw that tears were coming out of my eyeballs. Then I noticed that I was sobbing actually and I couldn’t pull myself together. My husband had come to pick me up in his truck at that point, and with a look of concern asked why I was crying and what was wrong. I shook my head. I didn’t know. My feet had hurt like hell at that point, but not enough to cry. I cried for awhile and then I stopped and I was okay. I just needed ice for my feet. I felt so released.

Jolting myself back to the present, I saw that 17 mile marker flow passed my line of vision. I grinned….I had gained some grit along the way in all that training. I looked around me again, and the same folks I had seen before were in front and behind me. I also saw a member of the sideline crowd with a sign that said, “Run fast, in two weeks, Trump will have nukes!” I laughed loudly, and I exhaled long, satisfied with my pace and feeling connected to people. I made a quick pit stop…as quick as I could realizing how tight my muscles were getting. It was hard to get going again, but eventually I found my rhythm. I don’t remember much about mile 19, but passing 20 was triumphant. I had heard all these stories about how people break down at 20 and start crying and walking. I was feeling alright, and I was beginning to get excited about how this race was going to end for me.

Then I passed mile 21, and my legs began to ache. My feet were starting to cry out, and I thought about how far away mile 22 was. So. very far. All my bravado at 20 was gone, and then I saw the beer stand. Just what the doctor ordered right? The smiling man shoved the beer cup in my hand as I kept running, and I drank it fast, sloshing most of it out. It did help some, but I kept thinking how long the park in Houston must be for it to go on and on and on. I knew that the city had to be coming up at some point, right?

I felt around in my runners pouch and my fingers wrapped around an energy chew. I’m mostly an energy gel person, but I had brought one chew to mix it up. I popped that chew in my mouth, and started chewing. It was tough to get it down, but it helped me increase my speed to get to mile 23. I heaved a sigh of relief seeing that dumb 23 but then my tired old brain freaked me out with the thought of 3 more miles! 30 more minutes of running! Good God! I had to make it. I couldn’t tank in the end. I was out of nutrition. I was out of motivation. I was out of grit.

And so…I turned to the playlist…

To be continued…

2.  Nature and History

You have to discover what brings you rest and rejuvenation.

Nature and history are two friends of mine that have always brought me peace. 

Experiencing days immersed in nature settles me through a journey/series of reflection and aesthetics. 

Learning and seeing history yields an emotional walk that inspires me to follow strength and to pursue transformation and redemption. 

Day 2: Create space for you to experience nature and history. You might find the way to peace and that jump you need during a break from work. 

Photo credit….L. Sciba

1. I had a baby yesterday 

She said this is Clickbait. But I really did have a baby yesterday 17 years ago. And look at her now! Also, do you see that cake?  I made part of it before work yesterday morning and finished the rest when I got home. She picked it from some website called Sally’s baking addiction and said, “only if it isn’t too complicated Mom.” It was certainly worth the effort that I got because of it. 

That’s the reason I didn’t blog yesterday. So today is day one people. This day I became a mother. What a magical day that was! Truly it was. 

And every day since has been magical! Not. Someone told me the other day that I made parenting look fun. Yay! I was so happy. 

Then I thought about all the things that aren’t fun. And I pondered about the evidence that caused my friend’s conclusion. 

Parenting is fun. But you have to make it fun a lot of times and I work hard at that. I truly enjoy my children but I also have to help them learn to be enjoyable to be around. A wise woman told me the other day that making any situation fun is a poor man’s therapy and the way to cope with the hard parts of life. 

So Day 1 of the story of 30 days:

Make it fun….what ever it is. 

P.S. Goodness! Look at her 17 year old face…she’s having fun. 
 

The story of 30 Days-

Yes, we are playing the Oregon Trail. Three of the girls are still alive. Also I just died in the game so now I can blog. Hey so instead of being perfectionist and all that I’m just going to post every day for 30 days. Cool, huh? Probably not but I’m inspired by a podcast about this 30 Days of New Things. And I’m in. But with writing. Oh no, there’s only two girls left on the Oregon Trail. At least they’re splitting their supplies to survive. With teamwork evidenced, I’m going to sleep!

P.S. You should play board games with your kids. It teaches patience. Also you laugh a lot. Then you wonder about the level of competition that has been passed on. 

The Story of the Marathon Part 2

So, I guess I’m still at the 10K mark right? You’ll have to forgive the delay. Blame it on rodeo. Seriously. We are in the State Finals right now. Serious business. Here’s the map so you can get my drift.

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The 10K sign was welcomed, and I found myself in rhythm with the road. I was watching my running watch pretty close, and I was happy with my pace. I relaxed into the run, and I began to observe first the surroundings and the atmosphere. It was a nice view as we ran out of the downtown area and into the city. It was humid and the coolness was dissipating.

At this point I started to notice the other runners around me. There was a younger lady a little in front of me who was keeping a nice pace. There was a purple haired gal to the left of me. I saw the packages of nutrition gels on the ground in front of me. I noticed the middle aged guy who was keeping my pace with me. I smiled. We were all in this together.

Suddenly there were signs and workers pointing to the signs of the course separation between the half-marathoners and the wholes. “We are the Champions” began playing in my ear buds from my carefully crafted race list. I waved to the halves and turned right with the wholes. I felt a little pride that I was moving on from that race distance to this new goal. I felt strong as I pulled out an energy gel to take in. I was glad for the advice my new friends in the Runner’s Club had given me about nutrition. I didn’t want to become depleted of electrolytes, and gels and water seem to work well for me.

When I reached the half marathon distance, I remembered my very first Half-Marathon Race a few years ago and how accomplished I had felt when I ran the Tyler Rose Half Marathon in memory of my mom. I thought about the year I ran the half marathon in Dallas and how sick I was that day and how my ankle was badly bruised and taped up. I had a good time that day even though I had to use my inhaler to get through.

Half way there rang through my mind, and I was excited and energized by how my muscles were performing. Then I reached the 14 mile mark, and I remembered my 14 mile training run. I had started in the park and run 7 miles with the runner’s club, grateful for the conversation with new friends. The last 7 I had looped around the park and our downtown in the cold wet, and I was slow and sluggish and feeling like I didn’t fit in marathon training. And yet, somehow I had continued to train through the sluggish, through sickness, through rain and ice, through kids’ schedules, and on and on.

I heard my name, “C’mon Katie! Let’s go Katie! You’re doing great!” a crowd member cheered to me. I looked down and saw my name on my bib. I looked back up grinning like a fool and found tears coming to my eyes. Wow. Encouragement. Never underestimate the power. Or the power of the moment you need it and don’t even know.

And then I was beside them. I had seen her earlier, the runner with the jogging stroller. But, I hadn’t looked on or really seen her. And all of a sudden, we were running together. She kept one hand on the stroller and reached down to adjust the sunshade on the man in the stroller. He looked like he had maybe cerebral palsy or something similar. At this point we are at the 15 mile marker, and I marveled at her strength. He looked tired too, and he pushed his neck over to look at me. His eyes met mine, and he smiled big. It was the biggest smile I’ve ever seen and the most encouragement I’ve ever received. Tears fell down my cheeks and it took me a moment to feel them. I was overwhelmed by gratefulness. I was still running, and I said thank you to the lady pushing my new friend. She gave me a thumbs up and said, “We are all going to cross that finish line, right?” I nodded.

I flashed back at my attempt 15 years ago to run a mile with a jogging stroller with a baby in it. How weak I was. How easily I gave up. How lazy I was.

I wondered but I knew in my heart how she was doing it. Determination, commitment, discipline, love. It’s all you need.


To be continued….

The Story of the Marathon

Five months, I had trained, I thought as I sat in the green portapotty doing my pre-race thing, appreciating the cleanliness. I had done everything right the day before….ran a mile to loosen up, ate carb-heavy, didn’t stay on my feet, and early to bed.  I had reveled in picking up my marathon packet and number. Then my sister-in-law and I carefully applied our tattoos.  I had slept horrible. My running watch so nicely described that I had only 1 hour of deep sleep. Thanks, Garmin. How does it know anyway? That’s what I’d like to know.

I finished my business, and moved out into what was a sizeable crowd in the what I thought was respectable “C” Corral. My sister-in-law had moved on to the “A” Corral where the serious runners are.


My hand moved down my taped leg as I stretched slowly wondering what this day would be like. The crowd was gathering, and the portojohn lines were crazy long. The announcer was blaring and the gun went off. I squinted through my corral barriers trying to see my sister in law as they let out the “A” group. There were so many people running this race. The crowd pressed in on all sides as friends chatted about their goals. I was glad I was alone. I caught the eye of the stranger next to me. We both smiled nervously and then we both took a deep breath. I chuckled. Let’s go already, I breathed.

And then finally, it was our turn. We all started walking out of the corral toward the starting line, and then as one big mob, the jog started, and then the announcer was talking to us and I was across the starting line. Here we go!


Almost immediately, the bruise on my left quadricep began to throb with each pound of my foot. I had fallen in my last training…tripped by some dumb wire at the park. It was so ridiculous and frustrating, but I had that damn injury iced as much as it could be and now taped up like a champ. I talked to the leg…settle in, come on, you’ve got this, get over it, just give me 5 hours…you get it.

My heart was pounding. This is going to be a long adventure, I said to myself, breathe and go! So, I did. By the 2nd mile, I couldn’t feel the pain anymore in the leg, and I was going at a pretty good pace. Mile 3, 4 and 5 went by pretty quick, and then–there–the big sign said 10K. I finally felt my breathing smooth out and I ran past the sign feeling consistent and steady.

To be continued….