Even a bad day can make a good story

My mother once said of me that if there is a hard way to do something I will find it, so perhaps it is not surprising that the lyrics of Jim Croce's song "The Hard Way Every Time" appeal to me.  The last few verses go like this...

"But in looking back at the lessons I've learned
And the mountains I wanted to climb
I just look at myself to find
I've learned the hard way every time

'Cause I've had my share of broken dreams
And more than a couple of falls
And in chasing' what I thought were moonbeams
I have run into a couple of walls
But in looking back at the faces I've been
I would sure be the first one to say
When I look at myself today
Wouldn't done it any other way"

One of the reasons I have few regrets on the races that went wrong, is that they were not only good learning experiences...but they make great stories later! Whether they are weather-related like the third one here (and I have more of those...which I'll share later) or result in a DNS or DNF...there is always something to learn and something to share later.

I have had plenty of hard days since I started running and racing, but there were 4 that were bad in especially epic ways...I share the stories here.

A FAILURE IN AUSTRALIA

Wearing an Austin Duathlon tri top....maybe that's where I went wrong.

My first open water swim never happened!

This story begins on the flight to Australia, long under the best of circumstances. We were on our way for Glenda to compete in her first ITU World Long Course Triathlon in October 2009. We made it to LAX with no trouble...but the next flight was to Melbourne (with one more leg to Perth to follow).  Unfortunately there was a medical emergency on our plane...and we were told to land in Fiji to remove the passenger for medical attention.  Upside...I got to see the sunrise in Fiji.  Downside...it was through a tiny airplane window as none of us had the appropriate visas and so on to de-plane.  Other downside...4+ hours added to the flight.  I must say that Qantas and all their employees handled a double deck plane full of cranky and concerned passengers with grace and professionalism.  They didn't tell us until we took off again that we were only the second plane of our size to land and take off from this airstrip (probably better we didn't know).

They handled the re-booking from Melbourne to Perth well too.  But despite all the efforts after more than 30 hours en route, it was going to take longer than the 24 or 36 hours available to me before my race, a "friends and family" aquathon, to recover. So I was already at a disadvantage, but wait, there's more...

This race was to be my first open water swim.  It was in a tidal river and pretty wavy as you can see above. The distance was 500 meters...which was at the edge of my comfort zone.  I arrived at the dock only to find out that we would have "a little warm up swim out to the start buoy"  (so 500 meters). Umm.....

But I gamely started out, and got about 2/3rds of the way there when I came to my senses.  I was just not ready for this and there was nothing to be gained by pushing the issue. It wasn't like we'd traveled all the way here for me to race.   I waved down the motorized launch with the safety crew. Said, " I've decided it's not my day." And they hauled me in and back to the dock in time to run to the start of the longer warm up event for the athletes, and tell Glenda I'd bailed.  I had a great time cheering her that day and again when she did the tri. No regrets.

OH NO, SAN ANTONIO

Fall of 2009 was definitely one for stories, if not for races.  This particular race, the Rock N Roll San Antonio in November of that year was such a race disaster (mostly due to my own stupidity) that I have no photos of the day.  

So we came back from Australia after Glenda's event.  This half marathon was about a month later, and was one that many of our running friends did.  Glenda went back to Austin and I returned to Rhode Island where I was working at the time.  I was feeling great, no jet lag or anything.  Went and taught my class the evening after I got back, went home....woke up 3 hours later with chills and a fever of 102.  I had contracted swine flu while on the trip!  

Still there were several weeks until the half marathon.  I was much better, but still had a nagging cough and I considered skipping the race.  I even told my coach...who called me.  He encouraged me to go for it, as did Glenda at the time. And truth be told, I kind of wanted to be talked into it. I had a huge coughing jag during bib pickup, but I still decided (perhaps against my better judgement) to go ahead. 

The next morning I was still having cold symptoms, and without much thought I took some cold medicine (not a great idea blood pressure-wise). We arrived at my assigned corral (30 of 33, I believe), and stood around.  I had a fleeting thought of not starting, but thought...well, I'm here.  The fact that they sent off a corral every 3 minutes meant that some of our running friends were finished or nearly finished before we ever started. But finally, at long last , 90 minutes after the first corral began, we were off. 

By miles 5 the wheels were coming off....more coughing, etc. I determined it was not my day.  And in some ways that is where this story really begins.  We were told that there was a sag to the start if someone had a problem.  So we stopped at medical and asked about the sag...the response?  Blank stares, followed by, "We can send you to the ER."  No, I can't finish, but I don't need the ER.  

Glenda stayed with me until someone (not an official sag, just a volunteer) came along with a golf cart and said he'd take myself and another lady to find the sag.  I sent Glenda on her way.  And off we went, asking cops and volunteers along the way and always getting the same answer "Gee I don't know, we can send you to the ER I guess, but I don't know about a sag."  I was getting very frustrated.  The golf cart was running out of battery, the other person on the cart bailed and decided to walk the rest of the race.  I decided to get off at the next medical tent.  Same story.

So I started walking, and asked again at the next medical stop.  They said "not here, but cut across to the medical stop on the marathon route, sag is there"  I went where they pointed me, and asked. The answer "no idea, we can send you to the ER...."  I said never mind and stomped back to the previous station.  I wasn't feeling well and I was frantic because I knew Glenda by now had finished the race and would be looking for me...but this is before we routinely carried cell phones during the race, especially when we thought we'd be together the whole way. I exploded, and told the person who had sent me through gritted teeth, "They tell me they don't know anything about sag!"  After a brief exchange, he said, "I will walk there with you." We got there and he asked where the sag was parked.  The people at the tent said, "We don't know anything about sag, " then the lady turned toward a man standing a few yards away and said, "do you know anything about a sag?" The man answered, "yes, I'm the sag." Ho-ly Cow! Talk about lack of communication.

I FINALLY got back to the meeting point and Glenda was not there, because she'd gone to the race people to see if they could locate me.  I spotted one of our group and fell into her arms sobbing in relief. A few minutes later Glenda arrived and once we were done crying and hugging, we got laughing about how I'd given Glenda an amazing negative split on her race.

I'll be honest about this one.  It is an epic story, but I still have not brought myself to do another Rock and Roll branded race as this left a bad taste.  I think I'm almost ready....ALMOST. 

DOC NEEDS A DOC

January 2016 we were at Disney doing the Dopey Challenge.  Well Glenda was doing the Challenge, I was doing a challenge of my own creation.  The Doc Challenge, I called it. 5k Thursday, Half on Saturday.  I figured I'd call it the Doc Challenge because a. I have a Ph.D. and b. I'm too smart to even attempt the other one. :)

The 5K (with Glenda as the White Rabbit and me as Alice) went well.  But the day of the half was humid as only Florida can be.  I was dressed as Doc, and Glenda was Snow White.  About mile 9, we spotted the dreaded Balloon Ladies behind us, and were just seconds ahead of the sweep busses.  I was struggling.  (Side note: don't dread the balloon ladies, they are very sweet and encouraging).  By mile 10 they were passing us and I knew I had to pick it up.  Mile 11 was my fastest one in the second half of the race.  Once we were into the park I was pretty sure that we wouldn't be swept, but it was still a slog.  The comments between runners and Glenda's encouragement kept me going.  I crossed the finish line and my legs said, "no mas!" and I flopped into the nearest wheelchair.

This was not the way I wanted to finish my race, but I have to tell you the finish line crew and the medical crew were amazing! The photographers made sure to get our photos even as I was being taken to medical.  The medical folks were quick to diagnose moderate dehydration (no IVs needed) and gave me power ade to start...but since I am type 2 diabetic they also checked my blood sugar which was a bit high and switched to water.  They helped me out of my soaking and hot shirt, gave me ice, and an oversized leftover 5k shirt from the year before so I was wearing something dry. (Still one of my favorite shirts!) They took care of me efficiently and were kind to Glenda as well. 30 minutes or so later, I was relatively recovered and on my way.

I never want to end up in medical again, but if I do, I hope they are as wonderful and efficient as run Disney.

HIS BITE WAS WORSE THAN HIS BARK

The final story in this blog happened just last year.  The first weekend in August, to be precise.  On that weekend, I had planned to do a pool swim sprint distance triathlon on Saturday and a 2-person relay on Sunday (I was swimming and running).  The first was a very small race, with a somewhat shortened swim in the pool and very hilly bike ride and a run.  The swim went well. The bike...well not so much.  And I never got to the run...

The swim went well and the transition was very smooth. I had worried about the bike because I'm not strong on the hills,  and it was a struggle.  But I had reached the top of the worst of a series of hills and even enjoyed one downhill segment with an endless (and gorgeous) view from the bluff across a sweeping vista of Wisconsin cornfields.  

I then began to climb one of the last hills on the course, and there halfway up the hill I saw them.  Two farm dogs yapping and fussing generally.  I shouted at them and picked up my pace as much as I was able (not much)...but one of them darted out and I felt a sharp pain in the back of my right thigh. I chased him off and re-mounted my bike (I did not fall, but I was forced to hop off to avoid it). I thought I was alone and the only way to get out of it was to keep going. I was crying more out of frustration than pain, when a truck pulled up on me and asked if I was OK.  They were from the race and had seen it happen from down the road.  They asked if I wanted to go on and I said, "I don't know.  I know he nipped me, but I can't tell how bad it is."  So they took a look and said the skin was broken and there was one puncture.  I decided I was done as the shock wore off and it started to ache. I was also worried what Glenda would think and how I was going salvage anything of the relay the next day. 

Meanwhile Glenda was finishing the race (in first place) and did not know where I was.  The guy in the truck radioed ahead that they were bringing me in, and that I'd had a dog bite.  That information was relayed to Glenda and she was freaking out. A vivid imagination can be a bad thing in those circumstances.  They had also notified EMS and the Sheriff, because dog bites have to be reported by law.

In what seems like an hour, but was in reality, minutes I was back at the transition area.  EMS looked at the bite and sent me to the local ER to have it cleaned and dressed.  While Glenda gathered up our bikes the race people called ahead so the ER was expecting me and the animal control people could take my report there.  I heard the announcer say that awards would begin in 10 minutes and it dawned on me that Glenda probably placed. So I said to the race director who was making sure I was taken care of, "how did Glenda do?  I don't want her to miss awards."  She told me, "she won...and we will make sure she gets her medal."  And off we went to the ER.  

The Reedsburg WI emergency room was very good.  They cleaned the wound efficiently and prescribed a few days of antibiotics, just in case. I think the doctor was a bit bemused when I started asking about my race the next day.  I really wanted to do it.  I mean really, a relay team named the Sisterhood of the Flaming Lederhosen...who wouldn't want to do that?  Especially since we had costumes!  So the doctor finally said, I could run if I didn't hurt too much...but it would not be wise to swim.  As we were wrapping up, the nurse came in and handed Glenda her medal.  They had delivered it to the ER!  We actually drove back to thank the race director and her crew on the way out of town.  And before we were home, my relay partner had agreed to the swim and the bike...and I ran the next day with a band-aid printed with NO DOGS ALLOWED!

So here's to learning the hard way and epic stories and keeping on keeping on... even if we might have done it some other way.

Relay? Really!

 

One of my favorite athletic things to do is to share.  Sometimes that means running with my wife, my daughter, my granddaughters and their parents.  But over the years it has also meant running a LOT of running, duathlon and triathlon relays.

I understand that some people don't particularly like to relay.  For instance one of my first coaches really hated relays.  He didn't mind if we did them, but he didn't want any part of them.  When we finally pinned him down, it turned out that because he was very competitive by nature, he felt too much performance pressure in relays. I'm sure others would rather rely on their own ability and not have to worry about someone else.  

I on the other hand LOVE to relay, but when I build a team it is based on certain rules, which I explore below, along with some, but certainly not ALL of my relay history. 

 

 My very first relay came about because the Austin Duathletes, a team I was affiliated with at the time was doing their (at the time informal) Protest Du 2007. Glenda was going to do it, and I sort of wanted to....but I was very nervous about the bike course.  Then I found out that they were allowing relays and went to find a cyclist. I found Maggie Dolch (now Komazec), I ran both run legs, she cycled...we had a blast...and a habit was born, right along with Suellen's #1 rule of relays...Speed is not the point, fun is. First and foremost have fun!

The next year I did a relay at the same race (now more formal) with Glenda as my cyclist. She lost a PEDAL on her bike and finished anyway.  We had a lot of laughs over whether she would have one BIG leg from all the one legged drills on the hills. 

Just as an aside I also relayed 2 different times with Miriam Raviv, one year as the Golden Girls (I've forgotten our other team name) at the Tough Cookies Du.  Miriam was the team cyclist and we always had a blast.

 

As much as I enjoyed the earlier relays it would be 3 years later before I did another, this time the Silicon Labs Marathon relay.  It was my 55th birthday, which I referred to as my "senior menu" birthday....and our team was called "Suellen's Birthday Bash."  Glenda ran 12K, Anna Belousov and Angel Syrett each ran 10k and Teen Edwards and I each ran 5K...with me anchoring.  As I was about to run across the finish, I spotted all my ladies running my way (along with a couple of their "other halves") with a big birthday banner to run me across the finish. While some of us were worried before hand about letting each other down, in the end we had a blast (and a fantastic brunch at Threadgill's) afterwards.  This lead to Suellen's #2 rule of relays...If you are worried about your pace, your ability, letting down your teammates or anything else, refer to rule #1.

By the time I ran the Zilker Relays with Team "I thought they said Rum"(Tammy Roen and Anne Eckerd along with Glenda and I) the 2 rules were well established. And we took fun seriously with our bunny ears!

I didn't really relay much more until I started doing triathlon relays every year after we moved to Madison.  The first of these was in September  2014 when Bridget (Kudrle), Eric (Kestin) and Suellen (Adams) used their first initial to become the BESt Tri Team.

I have done multiple relays in the years since, and I can give you 4 good reasons why people relay...with some example: 

REASON #1 

The first reason to do a triathlon relay (or any relay where some folks are doing the full race) can be described as either boredom or FOMO (fear of missing out). This is the case where you are trailing along with someone who is doing the race, but you are neither prepared to do the whole thing nor sit back and just watch.  

Like this time in 2015 when Glenda was doing Elkhart Lake and I got Stu Chase and Chris Neff to Relay with me (Team name: 2 Cubs and a Cougar)

REASON #2

The second reason is that you are relatively new and want to see what it is all about or are not ready to do the whole thing for some reason. 

 

For example last summer I did 2 relays that included Bridget Kudrle and her son J.D. (who may not be quite ready for a full sprint, but is an amazing competitor)  Team Shaving off 50 years and Team Misery Loves Company were both anchored by J.D.'s run.  

This coming summer I have a couple more teams set up that will introduce some of my relay-mates to the sport.

REASON #3

The third reason to try a relay is that you have 1 of the disciplines you feel you need to work on and you want to concentrate on just that piece of the race.

For example in June of 2016, I really wanted to work on my bike...so I did the bike leg at the Lake Mills Tri

As a member of the Three PACsketeers with swimmer Janice Baylor and runner Glenda Adams

REASON #4

The fourth reason you might want to relay is if you are "making a comeback." So you've been injured (or still are and can't do one of the disciplines) or for whatever reason you lost your motivation and have been away for a while.  An example of this is my friend Bridget Kudrle who I have relayed with often. She had a foot injury a few years ago and has been coming back. She was the swimmer in The Sparklers, for instance...the team pictured at the top of this Blog entry.

REASON #5

This is my favorite reason, and probably should be included along with any of the others as the very best reason to do a relay....to HAVE FUN!! Naturally there are sometimes bits that are not traditionally fun like a very hilly bike ride or a very hot summer run or having someone swim over you...but even those stories can be fun when shared with like-minded friends and teammates!  And so much of the rest of it is fun, from naming your team (you may have noticed that I like sort of silly team names), to choosing some piece of clothing or bling that will identify you as a team, to just the camaraderie that comes with doing something a little challenging as a team. 

And if you are lucky enough to have a spouse who is a photoshop expert, like I do...you can have some epic team photos!

Like this one of The Untouchables with Polly Hamner and Becca Marshall

Or this one of WOO PAC(hers)! with Chris Neff and Eric Kestin

So....WHO WANTS TO RELAY WITH ME?

Before the beginning...

One of the best compliments I ever got, was from a race announcer as I ran that last few yards of a super sprint Triathlon, the Duckathon in Lodi, WI a few years ago.  I was the final finisher, and as I sprinted toward the finish line he said the words that I had to memorialize on a photo from that day, "There is no quit in her"

I don't find myself to be particularly special and I certainly know a lot of runners who have overcome far more than I have.  But I still find it surprising, looking at the entire span of my life, that I ever became a runner/triathlete.  I came so close, so many times to "There is no Start in her"

I have been the final participant in more races than I can remember, and I've also been mid-pack...either is fine with me. Here's why.

Going back to the very beginning.  I was born with a turned in foot that required a cast to correct, and shallow hip sockets. When the pediatrician noted it my parents were sent to Iowa City to a specialist to have me treated.  I've looked at the history of this condition, and in cases like mine sometimes people chose not to treat...I will be eternally grateful that my parents did not choose that option.  The long-term outcome for many, historically, was sometimes debilitating osteoarthritis of the hips.

The treatment was awkward. Something called a "pillow splint"although I'm sure it had a more technical name. I remember many years later my Aunt saying to me at a family gathering that she could not believe how I had taken up running because in her mind I was still a little tiny one learning to crawl and walk with the splint.  The link  below is a video of me doing just that...so you can see what she meant.

 Suellen with the splint

Fast forward to college.  I was a theater major. Every year we did a children's production, and this particular year it was "A Carousel of Tales" which was a compilation of children's stories from around the world.  One of them included a dragon...which in our staging was made up of several people...I was one of them.  When the dragon was slain, we disconnected and did a safe theater-fall from a platform a few inches tall.  One night in rehearsal I executed my fall fine but didn't roll away fast enough to be missed by the person behind me.  My right knee was twisted, but I could walk and it was better in a few days, but from time to time over the years, my knee would swell up and ache.  Many years later, in my 30's, the flare ups became more frequent and I ended up having surgery.  Apparently I had injured some cartilage in my knee and there had been a build up of scar tissue.  Luckily I had a surgeon who believed in the minimal approach when the common treatment was much more invasive.  My knee was much better, and the flares became far less frequent and painful.  But the idea of running seemed ridiculous.

Then in my mid 40's the chronic low back pain I had had on and off for years got really bothersome and an MRI revealed some spinal stenosis.  My doctor told me that I would, "more than likely never walk more than half a mile without pain."  The PT in his office was more encouraging however. But no on there suspected I would ever do a marathon...which I did a few years later (see photo below).

I used all of these physical issues and more when Glenda and Melanie tried to convince me that I needed to come out and trying walking or running with them.  "But my back...my knees...I probably wasn't meant to...."

History is not destiny...and when I was ready I did start. And there is no quit in me. A few years back,  I even had a second surgery on my knee and did a super sprint triathlon just short of 8 weeks later!

Finding the why...looking back to the beginning

The photo above shows Glenda and I each after our own very difficult race.  But the truth is that there is some point in nearly every race, and a lot of runs when I ask myself that question.  And after 12 years of ups and downs as a runner, I find that once every couple of years I have a need to revisit my motivation, usually during times of stress when it becomes more difficult to find the time and motivation to continue...despite the fact that there is a lot to love about it.

So I am in a season of rekindling my motivation. One of the ways I do this is to revisit my running history and the reasons that I started and continued over the years. I'm sure there may be some more posts in the coming months, but here's a start.

I have run for a lot of reasons over the years.  And I posted earlier the role my daughter had in my starting.  But she was not the only factor. 

At the time I began the journey, I was a Ph.D. candidate at the University of Texas, having returned after my daughter's accident and a leave of absence.  I was working on my dissertation (lots of intellectual work every day, but very sedentary) and as you can see about 60 pounds heavier than now. Glenda and Melanie were both working out and racing some.  I designated myself the "cheerleader" and was smugly "the world's greatest indoorswoman" and "would run if chased."

But if you have ever worked in a field that was sedentary, yet required a lot of mental effort, then you might have had the experience I did.  That is, after several hours of concentration, my brain would hurt and my head would feel filled with mud. I had a long distant memory of a time in my life when I was quite depressed and had a similar "muddy-headed" feeling. Back then, I recalled, physical activity had helped.  So what the heck?  I sucked up my pride and told my family I was ready to try something....not running, of course. :)  So I joined Curves, the women's circuit gym and I began to walk on a half mile track near our house. And I began to actually enjoy it!

Fast forward a few months. I was still working on my dissertation and I was still walking and doing Curves.  Sometimes Glenda would walk with me. One afternoon in February or March (so almost exactly 12 years ago) we were walking and I blurted out (and to this day, I'm not sure where it came from) "Do you think I could walk a 5K?"

After Glenda picked herself up off the ground from the shock, she said told me that if I wanted to she would walk it with me. Later that day at home, Melanie said she would come out and cheer me.

Later that day I found the Runnin' of the Horns 5k on the University of Texas campus...April 1, 2006.  And that became the race to shoot for.  I increased my walks and set my goal (modest to be sure, but it seemed huge at the time) to walk this 5K in under an hour.

Race day came.  I was nervous.  It was hot in the way only Austin, TX can be in April....and I will admit that there were moments I didn't think I'd make it.  It helped that Melanie was cheering at a few points and that Glenda was there beside me.  But I finished in 57:55, so well within my goal.  I wasn't dead last....but only because Glenda purposely stepped back at the finish so that I would finish before her! 

When the race was over, we found Mel. We were all in high spirits...and I was tired and sweaty. Suddenly Glenda and Mel exchanged a look, and Glenda said "Oops! I think I forgot something."  And pulled this medal from her back pocket. If you can't read the inscription it says Suellen's First 5k 4/1/2006.

It did not prove to be my last (and I added in the run/walk shortly after).  Nor was this the last time that Glenda came up with just the right encouraging gesture at just the right moment.

Now,  twelve years later I have done over 200 races and relays...more than 100 of them 5ks.  I am much more fit than I was back then. And I am generally a little faster.

But far more important, I'm having fun! And Glenda is still right there with me...what better motivation could there be? Guess I'll keep going ...

The family that plays together

I am a great believer in play.  Far from being trivial or unimportant, I think it is vital...and that's how it became part of my academic interest and research. But beyond that it has always been part of my life.

Some of my earliest memories are of play and humor.  I can remember clearly singing in the car,  "Let's all sing like the birdies sing"  and then we would start "singing" like other animals until we came to the giraffe (which really doesn't 'talk' much)  Let's all sing like the gi-raffes sing...and then we would all stretch our necks and make funny faces until it devolved into laughter.  My dad was most often the instigator, and although he was known to most as an upstanding part of the business community, he was also an entertainer with a huge stock of corny jokes. As a kid I became his chief straight man and often encouraged him to tell his jokes,  much to my mother's chagrin. We often played word games in the car too...sometimes laughing until we cried.

As an adult, my play has tended to be more adventurous and athletic, but just as when I was a kid, I love sharing it with my family, whether it is my wife, my mother, my brother's family or my children and grandchildren.

One such adventure was a whitewater raft trip with my mother and my wife on the Colorado River.  My brother had implored me to be sure that mom held on tight...so of course we had to take this hands-in-the-air picture. (Don't worry, we held on in the rapids).

 Mostly these days it is running, duathlon and triathlon, which I share with my wife.  She is much faster than I am...but we make a weekly point of doing at least one workout together, either choosing something not speed related or having her slow to my speed.  Planks to the song "The Final Countdown" is one of our favorites.  It never fails to make us laugh.  Of course, we often sing ridiculous songs (workout and otherwise to each other and our pet rabbit).  Play and sense of humor had much to do with bringing us together...and helping to keep us strong together.

And running in costume adds another layer of play and fun to the mix.  She had to be convinced at first...but she had such fun the first few times that she now introduces costume ideas as often as I do...and has begun to learn some skills to help me make them.

As you know if you read this blog, my daughter was instrumental in starting us running.  My son has done some races too...but prefers his role-playing game weekends with his friends (which is fine...I'm glad he finds time to play). Recently my daughter-in-law has shown some interest  and we have introduced our granddaughters to both running and running in costume. My daughter-in-law, Aurora and oldest granddaughter Maeve are with us in the picture at the top of this blog.

 Here's another with Maeve at a Girls on the Run event  last November.

After 3 GotR events and a Disney 5k Maeve has become a more confident runner

Little sister (our younger granddaughter Ellowyn...known as Ellie) ran her first race dressed as Moana at Disney.  Look at that face...you can see that this is play!

Playing together, whether it is a word game, a costume run, a whitewater adventure, a trip to the playground, or playing a board game (or anything else) has helped to bring my family together and keep us closer.  I think the fact that one of our main activities is one that keeps us fit and healthy just adds to the enjoyment.  

So, if you are reading this, I encourage you to grab a friend or family member and play today!

Surrounded by Wonder Women

This picture is from the Disney Princess 5K last weekend. That's me as Peter Pan, my daughter-in-law is the blonde in the back of the group and the two with the golden Ws on their chests, are my wife Glenda and my granddaughter Maeve.   My granddaughter had declared that Wonder Woman was a Princess (albeit from a different fictional universe) and she wanted to dress as that...and that her Gigi should dress as that too. So I made the outfits and set out to run/walk a 5k surrounded by Wonder Women.

But being surrounded by Wonder Women is also a kind of a metaphor for my life, which has always contained strong, competent women who do sometimes unexpected things. My paternal grandmother was a formidable business woman in an era where women did not often rise to leadership positions.  She was a force to be reckoned with. She also taught me some important lessons.  One of the most important was at the end of a hard day to ask yourself "what was the best thing that happened today." This is a trick that she used on me when I was an angsty teenager...and it actually can help you find the good in things.

My maternal grandmother was an artist.  She was many other things too, as you will learn.  But one of the incredible Wonder Woman things about her was that she went off from a tiny rural community in Iowa to Chicago to study commercial art when she was just a teenager in the late 1920's (17 or 18, as I recall).  She was a diminutive woman...maybe 5 feet tall if she stretched, but to me she was mighty, both in her bravery as a youngster and as an example of creatively reinventing yourself through your life.  At 19 she married my grandfather and raised her family back in the small town she came from.  She continued to paint, and many of her paintings hang in my home. In her late 40s she was widowed under tragic circumstances. After several months she reinvented herself by going to nursing school.  Sort of unheard of in a woman of her age at the time.  And she went from Charlotte, to the pediatric nurse "Charlie."  When she retired she discovered travel and went all over the US and Europe.

At 87, my mother is a complete Wonder Woman.  Though she is slowing down in recent years she still babysits with Great Grandchildren (both my grandchildren and my brother's). She still holds a very part time job.  She married my father when she was only 17 and after just 3 months of courtship.  My parents, I am convinced, loved each other and loved us and were partners in work and in play.  I remember after my dad passed, my mom saying that she missed her playmate.  But the hardcore wonderful thing about her was that she never stopped playing.  She continued to travel and to learn and to have fun.  I am proud to say something almost no one can....last September I went Whitewater rafting with my 87-year-old mother....and I had a blast.

My daughter Melanie is hardcore in her own way, though she struggles.  But rather than write about her here...I invite you to read an earlier blog about how she started us running. 

Even my sister-in-law, Beverly,  is Wonder Woman.  She has always been the one to turn to when you need help, but you don't even know what you need. She is so good at seeing what needs to be done and doing it. And she too is re-inventing herself after retirement.  At last count she had lost nearly 90 pounds and was doing the work to get fit and healthy.

My son also married a Wonder Woman. Aurora is smart and talented. She does all kinds of wonderful things to enrich the lives of her equally Wonder Woman daughters Maeve (the sporty one) and Ellie (the dancer). 

And of course there is my wife Glenda.  Don't tell her, because I don't want her head to get too big...but she is my hero.  She's smart and funny. She's a kick ass programmer and a hardcore runner. And I know what my mom meant when she said she'd married her playmate. We've had our moments to be sure...but we've also had a wonderful share of adventures and celebrations.

So I'm grateful to have all these wonderful women around as friends and family and role models.  I'm not sure I've discovered my super powers yet.  But I'm glad just to be along for the ride.

Sometimes there are reasons

I'm usually a very even tempered and optimistic individual, but there are certain things that drive me completely bananas.

Some of these things have to do with athletics and "motivation."  I am self aware enough to know that that the things that make me craziest are those that play on my insecurities and guilt.  Let me provide a few examples:

I have belonged to a number of running and triathlon training groups over the years.  When I started in each group it was fine that I was all about doing 5ks and 10ks and maybe the odd half marathon.  And I was always told that if I only wanted to do sprint tris, that was cool.  Yet in nearly every case it was assumed that eventually I would want to be a "real" runner or triathlete and do marathons or Ironman, etc.   I have done a marathon. I got injured training for my second one, and decided that both the time required to come back from injury and the sheer time it took to train for a marathon at my pace made it not impossible, but unreasonable, to do another.

And don't get me started on Ironman.  I have never wanted to do an Ironman...and I don't need to do one to be a triathlete.  I love the fun and challenge of a relay, a super sprint or a sprint...and the training for them is reasonable.  I swim, bike and run...I am a triathlete.

So I  hold  onto this to help me deal with the peer pressure:

 

The other, tougher example is illustrated by this meme, posted on several of my athletic friends' posts over the last months

This, if you will pardon me for saying so, is horse hockey. Or at the least very simplistic drivel.  It is along the same lines as "you can do anything you put your mind to." It suggests that somehow if things, very real and  sometimes difficult things, get in the way...then you do not want it enough.  Or you aren't digging deep enough, or you don't care enough. This plays strongly into my sense of guilt, of not being good enough or trying hard enough. And then I have to remember that this may motivate the people posting it, even though I find it does the opposite for me. 

I have to remind myself that by rights I probably should not be physically able to do what I do as well as I do.  I was born with a hip problem and a turned in foot. Fortunately my parents had these corrected in a time when that did not always happen, so although they are not perfect, they are perfect enough.  I also have spinal stenosis to a degree that once upon a time an orthopedist told me I should not expect to walk half a mile without pain.  I have since done over a hundred 5Ks and numerous other races, including my one and only marathon.  

But the other thing is that I have more than one priority in my life...and sometimes one of them blows up or needs more attention and attending to that is a REASON to reassess my goals and set more reasonable ones.  It is not an excuse.  And sometimes those other priorities like work and a sometimes complicated family situation cause me to dig deep, suck it up and use all the energy I possess just to get through them. 

And sometimes when I reassess, my goals change for a reason (not an excuse).  I skipped the Disney 10K this weekend, because after the 5k with my wife, my daughter in law and my granddaughter (which was hot and sticky and tiring), I could see that by choosing to do the 10K as well, I would be short- changing my granddaughters and myself. I could meet my goal and miss my family time. I think I made the right choice.