Pat's Run 2014 Recap

I'm not sure that it was wise, but I convinced the ortho to give me clearance to participate in Pat's Run when I went in for my post-x-ray consult for the sacroiliitis.  He said that as long as I took it easy and walked if I had to, I should be OK.
(My physical therapist was not as thrilled to hear that and has since put the kibosh on running, but more of that in another post)
So, on a lovely and unseasonably cool April morning, I met up with about 32,000 of my closest friends for the 10th Pat's Run.
It was ten years ago that Pat Tillman, a former ASU Sun Devil and Arizona Cardinal, was killed in a still-controversial incident in Afghanistan. In the decade since, the Pat Tillman Foundation has helped support military scholars across the country.
This year, Husband stayed home with HRH, and I met up with a few of my girlfriends for the race and post-run breakfast and cocktails.
I'd signed up for the event before I got injured, so I estimated the time based on my performance the past couple of years with an allowance for my recent shin splints episode. However, when I was told by the ortho to slow down, I opted to start in a later corral with the girls and see how things went. All I knew was that once I hit the stadium, I'd be running even if I had to walk the entire way up to that point.
Thankfully (for my sanity), I was able to run most of the way. We walked the first half of the Mill Ave. bridge, all the way up Curry, and over all of the Rural bridge. I suggested that I may walk up the incline into the stadium, but I didn't. I was too excited/happy to be there at that point, and I took off without even telling my friends that I was going to do so.
Oops.
But then we found each other quickly, and all was right in the world.

Of course, then it was time for pictures.

Devin (56) and Evan Goodman, both OLs

Getting this close to a mascot - even my beloved Sparky - was a HUGE deal for me.
#mascotsarecreepy

I loved this year's shirt - it actually fit like a technical shirt should.

Official time: 51:35
Place (overall): 14,598
Place (women's): 6164

Looking at my splits, my first mile was the fastest, but all of them were significantly slower than what I was used to running. However, I was glad to finish in under an hour; I felt like that was something of a victory in itself.
I'm not sure when my next race will be; nothing is going on the calendar until I get a clear green light to run again AND the pain has abated. But despite the achy hip the next day, Pat's Run, as always, was a wonderful - and extremely well organized - event that was worth the aches and pains to honor a fallen hero and support our military scholars. Here's to hoping I'll be healthy enough to run next year.

One Run for Boston - Stage 52

I will likely never qualify for the Boston Marathon. I'm not even sure I'll run a full marathon at this point, so a BQ isn't even on my bucket list (although how awesome would it be to go watch the race in person someday).
Regardless of my personal involvement with marathoning, I love the Boston Marathon. I love its history, and I love the idea of running through such a cool city (having been there exactly once, I'm obviously an authority on its coolness factor).
And what's more amazing than watching what the human body is capable of doing?
Which is what made the fact that two people chose to also show what human cruelty is capable of doing in that same venue last year that much more horrific.
Thankfully, for the two people who wanted to wreak havoc and spread hatred, there have been thousands of people who want to perpetuate joy and spread love in rebuttal.
One Run for Boston is just one portion of those thousands of people, made up of several thousand on its own. Started by three runners who just wanted to do something to show the victims of the marathon bombing and the people of Boston that they have the running community's support, the first One Run was in the summer of last year.
It was so successful - in terms of both fundraising and community building - that the One Run for Boston 2 started last week from the Santa Monica pier in California, once again headed east toward the city that the run is supporting.
When I learned that the run would be going through Phoenix this time around, I jumped at the chance to be a part of it and gladly paid my entry fee, which, like all other funds raised by the organization, were sent to give financial support to the bombing victims and their families.
I signed up for Group Stage 52, which was held at Papago Park near the zoo. Many of the stages are individual, but there are also group stages, like this one, in which a "the more the merrier" emphasis is placed. This was a shorter distance, which, as I signed up when my legs were still aching from shin splints, sounded good, and since it was a loop around the park, I knew I'd be able to get back to my car easily.
What I didn't count on was Husband getting his teaching assignment to overlap the run, which meant that I'd have to find a middle of the week evening sitter for HRH. Or bring her with me.
Now, the last time HRH ran with me, it was at the run for Boston event held by Sole Sports Tempe, where she fell and scraped up her knee. She'd been scared to run with me ever since, but this was not negotiable, so there may or may not have been ice cream related bribery involved to get her to acquiesce and not complain.
I also explained the importance of the run to her, and even though empathy is not easily understood by a 5-year-old, she understood that this was a solemn event and agreed not to complain as long as the ice cream I promised could be obtained in either a cone or cup.
It was truly a beautiful evening for a run. The weather (sorry to everyone else everywhere else) was perfect. In the low 80s in the afternoon, once the sun started to dip below the horizon, it was deliciously cool, making for the best conditions.
Before the baton got to the park we took some time to chat with the other runners, including Chris over at The Half Fast Runner, and sign the official One Run for Boston car (donated by Toyota, one of the official sponsors for ORFB).

At first, she was nervous.
"What if I fall again."
"Then you get back up."
"Will you run too fast?"
"I'll run as fast or as slow as you want to. We can even play Red Light Green Light if you want."
"That sounds like fun."
That's when my daughter remembered that she loves to run.

Since I did have HRH with me, I opted to cut through the park a bit, as I wasn't sure she'd be able to make the 5 mile run, even with regular walking breaks.
In cutting through, we were able to see the back of the zoo, and HRH was thrilled to see one of the bighorn sheep up on one of the rocks.
I was more excited to run into Danny Bent, one of the three founders of ORFB; he was waiting to help direct the second wave of runners who were coming in.
Naturally I snagged a selfie.

He's my new BFF, people. This man did not stop smiling the entire time (I'm assuming he's still smiling as he continues through the stages of ORFB) - his enthusiasm is contagious, and it was wonderful to be able to chat with him for a few minutes. I learned that his dad is one of the fastest speed walkers in the world, his marathon time only slightly more than my best half marathon time.
Cutting through didn't cut the route in half, though, and by the end, we'd walked and run 3.5 miles. with an average of 18 minutes per mile.
Her first 5K, plus a little more.
We got back as the rest of the pack, who had gone the entire 5-mile route, were starting to trickle in.
"Mom, did I win?"
I'd tried to explain that this event wasn't a race but rather a relay, kind of like the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse road rally episode (if you really want to torture yourself by watching it, it's on YouTube; basically, it's a scavenger hunt that everyone participates in as a "team," and only Pete doesn't get that it's not a race). But she knows that when I go to running events, they're races, so regardless of what I said, this was A Race, and she wanted to know if she'd won.
"Yes, baby, you won. You won because you didn't stop, even though I know you wanted to."
We did beat the baton back, so it was exciting to see that carried back in to hand off to the next leg, although we all got the chance to get our pictures taken with it. Apparently its name is Miles (I love it).

The greatest aspect of running with HRH in this event was that I could share my love of running with her while at the same time teach her the responsibility that we each have toward our fellow human beings. There are people in this world who are hate-filled and cruel, but their ability to promulgate their negative energy can be countered with each act of kindness that the rest of us can carry out. While understanding the larger impact of the 2013 Boston Marathon bombing is still far beyond HRH's scope, she knows that kindness is more important than any other trait, and so my heart is full knowing that Danny, Kate, and Jamie were able to give her yet another example of the ripple effect of one kind act. Thank you, guys, for what you have done for Boston, for the running community, and for my daughter.
To donate to the One Run for Boston, you can donate to the site itself here (click "donate"), or, if you're so inclined, you can make a donation on my page. To track the relay, you can follow the live map here. And, for those of you in more eastern states, check out the stages in your area that still may be open, or which, like Stage 52, are group stages.

Reverb 14 · February Prompt · Heart

#reverb14 is an opportunity for participants to reflect throughout 2014. Each month, the Reverb team will post a new prompt. Join and write, or simply join and read.

February Prompt: Show us your heart. Let it all hang out. When have you thrown yourself into a challenge, or shown/received love?

"When we feel love and kindness toward others, it not only makes others feel loved and cared for, but it helps us also to develop inner happiness and peace."
(His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama)

Since the day she was born, my daughter, HRH, has had my heart. Yes, I love my husband more than crude English can convey. But my child….every mother knows the magical love that this bond holds. I love her unconditionally, even though there are some days that I don't particularly like her.

Those days, lately, have been more common. As the princess grows physically, mentally, and emotionally, she's also testing her boundaries more and more. Who knew that small humans would have such personalities? (HINT - not me - I really had no idea that someone that small could have such large opinions) Combine that with the emotional roller coaster that comes with being five…wow.  There are some days when I feel that I've barely eked into Newton's category of "fittest." Survival is a Real Thing, even in the suburbs.

So when it was hard to like her even though I love her with all my being, we had to do something.

Enter the Kindness Chart.

Each week, kind and unkind acts are being tallied. If more kind acts are tallied than unkind ones, HRH is allowed to participate in swim and ballet. If there are more unkind acts than kind ones, or if there are more than five unkind acts in a week, swim and ballet are cancelled for the week.

In case you're curious, ballet is A Really Big Deal in our house, so missing it on account of unkindness? Unspeakable horrors.

While in some sense, this is, in fact, bribery (and I'm OK with that), it's also a way for a five-year-old to start understanding that kind and loving acts actually benefit her, even if it doesn't seem that way at first. After all, it's difficult for many grown people to comprehend that a kind word to a stranger has positive effects to more than just that stranger, so applying it to situations that HRH can understand can help her comprehend the larger picture as she grows older.

And then….an unexpected benefit.

"Mom?"
"Yes, peanut?"
"I love you so much."
"I love you so much, too."

"Mom, I just really love you."
"I love you, too!"

"Mom?"
"Yeah, sweetie."
"You're the best."
"Aww, thanks! You're the best, too."
"No, YOU'RE the best."

"Mom, Dad makes THE BEST pancakes. They're the best in the world."
"He certainly does. We should thank him for making sure you have pancakes for breakfast all week."
"Can you call him so I can say thank you to him?"

They keep coming. Suddenly, being aware of her kind actions has made her want to be as kind as possible. While surely some of this arises from the desire to have more kind acts tallied than unkind ones in order to ensure swim and ballet each week  (while optimistic, I'm not completely blind to this), I see a marked change in HRH. While she still fights us about going to bed some nights, and she doesn't always do what we ask her to do the first time (or the second time…and when she finally does what we ask, it's not always cheerfully), she is more cognizant of the consequences of her actions.  She is creating cause and effect relationships that show she's thinking before she takes an action, at least most of the time.  When she receives a gift, she more often than not thanks the person right away or tells me she needs to write a thank you card.  She offers us fruit leathers when she gets one for herself (even though she always gives us the apricot ones, because those are her least favorite).  And the other day, she became extremely worried that Megan needed a proof of life:

"How's Ms. Megan doing?"
"She's fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Uh…pretty sure." (nothing like a 5YO causing you to doubt your answers)
"Is she all right?"
"I think so.  She was yesterday."
"Can we FaceTime her just to make sure?"

Yes, Ms. Megan was fine.  We didn't FaceTime her, although I remembered later that HRH had tried to FaceTime her the day before when we were trying to call my mom, so maybe she was concerned because Ms. Megan didn't answer (I stopped the call, as it was later in the evening).  Who knows.  I texted her with a request to let us know that she was, indeed, "all right," and we were all good.  HRH was extremely relieved.

Being kind isn't always easy.  But when I know that my child is thinking of others, it's worth those days when I just want to survive until bedtime.

"Where there is love, there is life."
(Mahatma Gandhi)

The Kindness of Strangers

When I was young, kindergarten or first grade, a few local fire fighters came to visit my school and teach us a little about fire safety.  Instead of leaving the assembly feeling well informed, I was terrified and became obsessed with whether or not the smoke alarm's batteries were working and devising an emergency exit from my bedroom in the case that our house caught fire.

Fire continues to dwell in the recesses of my fears; living in Arizona means that the threat is omnipresent, and I often think that a house made of cinder blocks is a good idea.

So my heart aches this weekend when a fellow coonhound owner, someone whom I don't personally know but have met through a Facebook group lost everything in a fire, including two of his three rescued hounds.

Andrew lived in an RV, as he had until recently been a government contractor, so in order to have his dogs with him as he travelled for work, he sold his home and bought the RV.  His hounds, Claire, Herbie, and Sadie, went everywhere with him.  A few weeks ago, he lost his contract and is currently without a job.  He'd been giving his dogs his food as money started to run out.

Many people in this situation would surrender their dogs, but Andrew had rescued all three hounds, and was willing to sacrifice other things in order to keep his fur-family together. 

When his RV was parked this weekend, it caught fire, and Sadie and Herbie were lost, along with all of Andrew's belongings.  Andrew has burns on his hands, and Claire, his surviving hound, also has some burns and is on antibiotics to ensure that she doesn't have lasting smoke inhalation damage.  Both of them are heartbroken, and so is our coonhound community.  Sadie was rescued from a situation in New Mexico and transported to Andrew in Illinois through the Colorado Coonhound Rescue and Pilots N Paws.  As his children are grown, these three hounds were Andrew's life, and to have lost two of them this way, I just…well, there are no words.

Perhaps because this group of coonhound owners is populated, for the most, by those who have rescued hounds (Zooey is one of the few in the group who has had the same loving home all her life), those dogs who have been "thrown away" by others, we knew we had to do something.  Doing something in times of crisis is what we do, and so instead of rising up to save a hound from an abusive situation, we took action to help our fellow hound lover.

A YouCaring page has been set up to help Andrew and Claire with veterinary and other expenses, and in less than 48 hours, we have already raised over $1800.  The page is open until Valentine's Day, so if you have a few dollars hanging around that need a good home, please don't hesitate to click on the link and donate; I know that Andrew and Claire will be more than grateful for your donation.

In the long run, less than two grand isn't going to be enough.  Andrew needs a new home.  He needs a job.  He needs to be able to buy food for himself and Claire.  He needs to have a change of clothes (how many times have we all taken all our socks for granted?).  He needs to feel whole again after this devastating loss.  But we've started a process to help him heal, and we have not only stepped up financially but also to help shoulder the immense grief he is feeling right now.

I know many people who don't like to watch the news today because it seems like it's only bad news - the murder of a college runner, the continued situation in Syria, and more.  But whenever I hear this, I am reminded of The Art of Happiness, by His Holiness the Dalai Lama; in it, he discussed that the daily news cycle is full of "bad news" because it is still in the minority of events that happen each day.  Certainly it's too bad that more attention is paid to these happenings than the good that can happen, so it's up to each of us to carve out that good news we seek, even if it's in the face of terrible situations.

I can't put the sadness I feel for Andrew and Claire into words, but I also can't find words for the immense pride I have in these people I have come to know, all of whom have come together just because of our similar love for hounds.  It's a positive daily reminder that the kindness of strangers is something on which everyone should rely, as without that kindness, there won't be any other.

If you are short of money right now - you may be jobless yourself, or perhaps some unexpected expenses have arisen, and that's OK - your positive prayers, thoughts, and messages will also make a difference for Andrew and Claire; the more positive energy we can put out there, the better our world will be.

Herbie and Sadie, you will be so missed by Andrew and Claire and those who helped you live with the love that Andrew had to give you.  We will see you again; wait for us at the Bridge.

Herbie

Sadie on her "freedom ride" out of abuse

Herbie and Claire

The End of More; the Beginning of Study

The word for 2014 is study.

Last year, my Word of the Year was More.
Specifically:

• More miles
• More family time
• More charitable donations

I am happy that, for the most, I did more.  I ran more miles in 2013 (558.91) than 2012 (427.7).  I put a lot of emphasis on spending family time together, making sure that some fun activities like the Polar Express involved all three of us, even if that took a little more effort/planning to make sure Husband wasn't working or traveling for work.  I don't feel like we made a huge impact on the charities I had planned to focus, but with apps like Charity Miles and some other donations that came up mid-year, I feel like I have made a more positive impact on the world than in past years.

As I turn the calendar to 2014, I am also turning a page in my own life.  This semester, I am officially a Northern Arizona University Lumberjack, working towards my masters in English.

I have hemmed and hawed over my masters for far too long; Husband graduated in 2007, and since then, it's been "my turn" to go back.  Some days I would think that I needed to get my masters in Something Practical (read: not English).  Some days I would think that I needed to study What I Love (read: English).  Finally, the days when I thought the latter far outweighed the former, and the decision was made.  I'll be taking all my classes online, which does restrict my class options a little, but I will be able to take some electives within the education college, which will in turn help me add some practicality to my new degree, which I should earn in December 2015.

As such, while I will continue to run more miles, spend as much time with my husband and daughter as possible, and give back when and where I can, my main focus for 2014 is on myself and my books.  Hopefully the work-life-school balance will be manageable in the first half of the year; I'm counting on HRH's entrance into kindergarten next fall to allow me a greater ability to focus on work during the work day so my school hours can be more tightly focused as well.

I've always loved learning, and I was a good "traditional" student (I still take notes when I'm reading books for fun), but after not having been in a class since 2002, I'm also a little nervous.  I'm not new to online learning (after all, I teach online now), but it will be a new perspective being a student.  That being said, I'm excited at this new chapter in my life, and I can't wait to see what doors it may open to me!

What is your word/motto for 2014?

The 2013 Great Food Blogger Cookie Swap

Cookies, I have decided, are NOT my forte.  While I love me a good chocolate chip with milk, my cookie baking karma isn't quite up to snuff.  I'm not sure if my oven isn't properly calibrated (it's possible) or it's just too warm/dry here in Arizona (also possible), but my cookie-making prowess isn't even a tenth of what I'd like it to be.
Even in the face of my cookineptitude (I also love me a good portmanteau), I boldly signed up for this year's Great Food Blogger Cookie Swap (this is its third year).  Why did I do it?  Because I'm crazy each year, the cookie swap raises and donates money to Cookies for Kids Cancer, an amazing organization that raises money for research and new treatments for pediatric cancer.  You may know that different cancers require different treatments, but what you may not know is that many oncology treatments are not considered appropriate or safe for children.  Testing is "iffy" (I think that's the technical term), since medical testing on children is, well, horrifying to some and considered unethical by just about everyone.  As such, developing appropriate treatments is difficult and often more expensive.  And while I rage against the colon cancer that took my dad, I'm often brought to my knees at how pediatric cancer has affected my life, even if not as dramatically.  My dear friend Kirsten lost her sister to cancer; Lily, my friend Alicia's daughter, lost her battle last December, and my husband's baby brother fought (and has won, so far) two rounds of non-Hodgkins lymphoma.  Losing a parent to cancer is awful, heinous, and vile.  Losing a child to cancer, well, I haven't found any words that could bring justice to it.
And being armed as such, with no words to comfort those who have lost their children and siblings and friends to pediatric cancers, I happily tied my apron and failed gloriously at my first attempt at the cookies I was to send out for this year's cookie swap.
So I went to the store, bought more butter, and failed again at a completely. different. recipe.
Good cause or not, at that point, I was ready to break things.  And yes, I cried.  I was actually this close:  | |  to running back to the store for some pre-made, preservative-filled slice and bake... things.
But instead, I took a deep breath, double checked the recipe, made some modifications, and managed a cookie that was tasty and (sort of) pretty.
And then I shipped them off, swearing I'd never make cookies ever again.

So here's the deal.  The Great Food Blogger Cookie Swap is kind of a round robin, pay it forward, secret Santa situation.  Each participant is given the names and addresses of three other participants, but everyone is sworn to secrecy as to who sends to whom (while this wasn't a big deal for me, since I have never known the people to whom I send my cookies, it's possible in food blogging circles that the participants know each other).  But the three people to whom I sent my cookies were not the same people from whom I received cookies.
Am I making sense?
I didn't think so.
Really, the only thing you need to know is that you reap what you sow - send three packages of cookies out (a dozen each), and you shall receive three packages in return.

We won't discuss the first recipe I attempted.  But that's OK.  The cookie I finally ended up with was, I think, a much better idea at the end of the day anyway.
Now that I've made mustard, ice cream, and pie with beer, it was time to move on to the cookie.  Beer is great with cookies.  In fact, the brewery whose beer I used for this recipe serves its seasonal Winter Warmer with gingersnaps.  So what better ingredient to add to a cookie recipe?  Using a winter seasonal offers a taste of the holiday season without being smacked in the face with it (I'm looking at you, craft stores selling cinnamon-scented pine cones).  For the flavor to really come through, don't worry about adding any additional spices.  You'll still be able to taste them all.  Trust me.
But just in case, you'd better pour yourself a beer.

Winter Spiced Ale and Brown Sugar Cookies
Adapted from The Beeroness

• 12 Tbsp unsalted butter, softened (but not too soft)
• 1 1/2 c dark brown sugar (you can use light, but I prefer the darker, mostly for color)
• 1 large egg yolk, room temperature
• 1/2 tsp vanilla
• 1/3 c winter seasonal spiced ale (I used San Tan Brewing Company's Rail Slide Imperial Spiced Ale; if you can't get Rail Slide near you, I'm really sorry, but I'm sure your local craft beer place has a great winter seasonal as well)
• 1 1/4 c all purpose flour
• 1 c bread flour
• 1 1/4 tsp baking soda
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1 tsp corn starch

**The original recipe calls for baking powder as well.  I tried with and without the baking powder, and it made a huge difference in my cookies not spreading and turning into one super-cookie during the baking process, so if you have an unpredictable oven or, like me, bad baking karma, I recommend that you also omit it.

In a large, non-reactive bowl, combine flours, baking soda, salt, and cornstarch.  Set aside.
In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the butter and brown sugar on low speed until just combined. Add the egg yolk and vanilla.  Add the beer and beat until just combined.
Add the flour mixture to the beer mixture and combine, scraping down the sides of the bowl as necessary.  Do not over-mix.
Using a cookie scoop, a melon baller, or a spoon, scoop out balls of dough (smaller than a golf ball but larger than a marble) and place onto parchment paper-covered cookies sheets (or, if you're all fancy, use Sil-Pat; I am not fancy).
Chill at least a half hour.
Preheat the oven to 325°.  Take cookies from the refrigerator directly to the oven and back for 7-8 minutes, or until the edges just start to brown.
Place the cookies on a cooling rack immediately to cool.

And off they, went, to their new homes!

Just kidding - I did actually pack them in pretty tins.

These ale cookies went to:

• Jenny at Honey and Birch
• Kristin at Kristin Pot Pie
• Melissa at Persnickety Plates

Guten Appetit, ladies - I hope you enjoyed them, with or without a pint!  Check out their blogs, too, to see where their goodies ended up going!

Of course, while I do subscribe to the "it's better to give than to receive" policy, it was exciting to check the mailbox this month, knowing that I'd be having a snack shortly thereafter (HRH was pretty excited about that, too, and she was crushed when I told her that it would happen a mere three times).

Thanks to Melissa at Treats with a Twist for her white chocolate-dipped cranberry walnut macaroons, Zainab at Blahnik Baker for her soft and chewy butterscotch gingersnaps (or as Husband says, buttah-scotch), and Monique at Ambitious Kitchen for her white chocolate, cherry, and macadamia nut oatmeal cookies.  All three Philistines devoured them, and HRH even found a new love for coconut (in cookie form, at least), while Husband was thrilled to have a chewy gingersnap ("I just don't like crunchy cookies").  And even though HRH is sad that the cookies in the mail have come to an end, it's probably a good thing for my waistline that they did, for who can resist freshly baked cookies, delivered to your door (not me, that's certain)???

A big shout out goes to all of the participants (and even some who couldn't participate but who donated anyway) in this year's Great Food Blogger Cookies Swap; together, we have raised $13,778.40 for Cookies for Kids Cancer.  My heart is full that so many people wanted to not only share their delicious cookies but also make a difference for those who are engaged in a battle that they, unlike me, do not have the luxury of failing.  If you have ever doubted that people are truly kind in nature, just take this into consideration.
Thank you, too, to this year's sponsors, OXO, Dixie Crystals, Gold Medal Flour, and Grandma's Molasses, and to Lyndsay of Love and Olive Oil and Julie of The Little Kitchen for once again planning this incredible event.
If you'd like the chance to sign up for the next cookie swap, you can add you name to the list here.
A link that gives a list of all the participants and their recipes will be added soon.

Full disclosure: I did receive some awesome OXO spatulas as a gift for my participation in the cookie swap, but as this little blog is a mere hobby of mine, I wasn't asked to give my opinion on any of the aforementioned brands or of the spatulas.  I didn't specifically use the brands (I've actually NEVER used molasses), and aside from OXO, I can't personally vouch for their quality (I have several OXO products, and so I was pretty stoked to receive the spatulas; also, I love the word spatula and wanted to see how many times I could use it in a blog post).  However, I thank them all of my own accord for not shirking their corporate and civic responsibilities and for using their brands to make a positive difference in the lives of children.

One more thing - if you also love the word spatula, this is for you:

Reverb 13 · Prompt 10 · Spark

#Reverb13 is a prompt-a-day series for the month of December that is meant to give participants the chance to reflect on the past year and take the opportunity to write down some hopes for the coming year.

Prompt 10: What inspired you this year?  How do you think this will impact the year to come?

As we come up to the one-year anniversary of the horrific events in Newtown, Connecticut, I'm reminded of the shock and disbelief with which I received the news last year.  Like many parents that day, I picked HRH up from school early so that I could hold her closely, a truly selfish act when so many families that same night were not going to be able to do the same with their own babies.  I still don't understand why an elementary school was the setting for something so senseless (not that any other setting would be "appropriate").  The faces of those beautiful children still tear me to pieces.

This morning, I saw that town officials and the families of the children were asking for privacy during this weekend, something I hope that society and the media honor.  But what truly stood out to me was that the families were asking people, in lieu of flocking to Newtown, to give back to their own communities.

"In this way, we hope that some small measure of goodness may be returned to the world." (JoAnn Bacon, mother of Charlotte, 6 years old)

I admit that I wallowed in grief following my dad's death for too long.  It was easy to become so ridiculously absorbed in my own feelings that I ignored the fact that I was - and am - still alive and healthy and fully able to have a positive impact on my community, something for which I so looked up to my dad for doing (I still do, actually).  So for these families to have come to this understanding while they continue to sort their lives out and find a new footing refreshes my resolve to make my world a better place.  How I do that or what I do doesn't matter; what matters is that I am acting with kindness.

This weekend, then, in memory and honor of all of the lives lost a year ago (an almost-full list of names is here; most lists omit the mother of the shooter, although she is mentioned later in the article) our family activity will seek to do Good.  More importantly, the request of these families will be the foundation of any resolutions or goals that we set for our family in 2014.  I hope that you may also take some time to Do Good in order to make that "small measure of good" become exponentially larger - and brighter - than the darkness of December 14, 2012.

66*

Today, my dad celebrates his 66th birthday.  I'm sure that he will spend it being harassed by various friends and family calling to razz him about his age, enjoying a good burger and cocktail, and getting a special birthday wish from his favorite (ok, FINE - only) granddaughter.

Except (and if you are familiar with this blog, you already knew this) none of this is true.

My absolute favorite snap of my dad

October, as you probably know, is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, but I will never think of it as anything but the month that my dad both entered and left this world.  He died 15 days shy of his 52nd birthday, on October 1, 1999, from complications stemming from his five year battle with colon cancer.

There is not a day that goes by that my heart doesn't continue to ache, and days like today are still, 14 years later, often difficult to bear.  While nothing I will ever do can bring my dad back, I continue to do my best to prevent other fathers from being diagnosed with colon cancer in order that other daughters don't have to tell this same story.

For the fourth year, then, I am participating in the Colon Cancer Alliance's annual Undy 5000 next month in downtown Phoenix. Our race (5K and 1-mile fun run) is the last of the series each year, and each year since I have become a part of the local CCA chapter, I have been overwhelmed with the number of people under the age of 50 who have been diagnosed.  Many have beaten the disease, but we have also lost wonderful people like Arijit, the force behind Poop Strong (I was fortunate enough to be a part of Arijit's team last fall before he lost his battle this March).

The money raised by the Undy 5000 goes directly to local colon cancer treatment.  Those in the Phoenix area who are battling colon cancer can find assistance, both for payment of treatments not covered by insurance (although with the advent of the Affordable Care Act, fewer people WILL be turned away from getting the treatment they need, regardless of their stage of cancer or their status of having a "pre-existing condition") and for other necessities like counseling for patients and family members.  Cancer affects all family members, and the CCA is there to step in and be a support system for patient AND family.

I'm so proud that my daughter, who is nearly 5, has asked to be in this year's race with me, so she and Husband will be running (yes, running) the 1-mile fun run while I take on the 5K again.  I'm hoping to coordinate our finishes so that I can cross the finish line with her.

If you are so inclined, please consider making a donation to this incredible cause.  Colon cancer doesn't discriminate, but when appropriate measures are set into place, it is nearly 100% preventable and beatable.  You can check out my personal page here.  And please check back after November 16 for a full recap of race day.  This was my first race I ever ran four years ago, and its significance continues to overwhelm me.  This race is not about time for me, unless we count the time that I hope my efforts will add to someone else's life.

Happy birthday, Dad.  I love you.

Take My Blood - PLEASE!

I've mentioned a few times on this blog that blood donation is important to me.  Before I really get into this post (it's probably going to be long), I want to rewind for a moment and explain why.

I was never a blood donor when I was younger, although my mom went (and still do go) regularly.  My high school held an annual blood drive, but I always managed to get out of it, since the drive was always during track season and always right before a meet.  Even after my dad was diagnosed with colon cancer during the spring of my junior year, my dread of needles superseded the "do a good thing" aspect of blood donation.
I started to get the picture when I came to ASU.  My dad had to fly out to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota for a new radiation treatment in the fall of my freshman year, and it began to dawn on me that he had needed blood during all of his previous surgeries (that I didn't realize that this is what a great deal of the blood supply before this point goes to shows my naiveté and perhaps even how much my parents sheltered me from the reality of my dad's illness).  At one point, I remember talking with my dorm neighbor, and in the course of our discussion, he told me that his parents had donated blood before their own surgeries, in essence pre-donating to themselves.  At the time, this neighbor, who had admitted to me that his parents had their share of health problems, was one of the few people on my floor who knew how sick my dad had been.  Later that semester, we attempted to go give blood at the annual ASU-UofA blood drive competition, which I believe is now part of the Duel in the Desert series, but by the time we got there, the drive had ended (it took me a week to get up the courage to even go).
After that, I kind of brushed it off until the summer before my final semester.  The radiation that my dad had gone through had necessitated stents be placed from his kidneys to... I'm not sure.  Wherever the kidneys drain to or something.  These stents were temporary and had to be replaced fairly often.  But then one of them caused a hemorrhage.  And the doctors couldn't stanch the bleeding for a really long time.  In fact, because of the intensity of the hemorrhage, it took them some time to be able to locate the source of the bleeding.  Later in the summer, he was transferred to the University of Washington Medical Center because his condition, caused by his bleeding, continued to worsen.  I had recently come back from a summer abroad program in Germany, and I flew up to be with my parents.
While he was in the ICU at UW, I finally managed to give my first pint of blood.  It was not easy.  Spending the majority of my days in the dry hospital meant that I was fairly dehydrated, so it took me a looooooong time to get that pint out.  But I did, finally.  And the nurses who were working the blood drive expressed such amazing gratitude over a substance I had truly taken for granted.

In the last weeks of his life, my dad needed over 100 units (pints) of blood.  This was enough to replace his entire body's store of blood more than ten times.  Because of 100 anonymous O+ donors, I was able to spend some more time with him, and most importantly, I was able, one week before he left this world, to tell him that I loved him.  And he was able, even in his heavily sedated state, to tell me the same.
And then he was gone.

Donating blood will never bring my dad back to me.  No matter how many pints I give, he is gone.  But those pints can perhaps help someone else express their feelings to a loved one, may afford a person see a parent one last time, or they can even save someone's life so that it isn't that one last time.
Since my dad died, I have realized that donating blood is something so simple but that can also do so much good, and I have made donating part of who I am.  One of my proudest accomplishments is establishing a blood drive at one of the schools where I used to work, which continues to be successful and collect much-needed blood each year.
As such, I've educated myself on my blood type, how many times a year I'm eligible to donate, and through which type of donation my blood will be best utilized.
So when I was asked earlier this year if I could donate platelets rather than whole blood, I agreed.  It's a longer process, but my blood type, A+, best served that need, so I willingly sat down for the ninety-minutes, knowing that I was doing the most good at that time.
You can imagine my disappointment, then, when I received a letter not too long after my donation informing me that my platelets could not be used due to the presence of an antibody to Human Leukocyte Antigen (HLA) that was found during the testing that is done to blood after the donation.  According to the letter, pregnancy can cause the antibody, which isn't harmful to me, but it can cause reactions in transplant patients.  However, the letter assured me that I was still able to donate whole blood, so while I was disappointed, I wasn't overly distraught knowing that I could still do something good every few months.
I'm not going to go into how frustrating it was to make an appointment after that letter; since I now have a "block" on one or more donation types, I can no longer make an appointment to donate blood online, which is honestly the most convenient method for me.  I'd hope that someone could figure out a simple filter so that I could continue to make my online appointments.
Instead, I'm going to go into how frustrating the wording of the most recent letter I received after finally managing to make an appointment to go in and donate whole blood.
If you've never donated blood before, you need to know that there are a series of interview questions and then a handful of tests before you're even allowed on the donation floor.  The interview asks about health, family history, and lifestyle, all of which could affect the viability of one's blood.  That's how they knew to run my blood through an extra test - women are always asked if they have been pregnant before (or if they are now pregnant).  People with family history of certain known diseases (such as Creutzfeld-Jakob disease) or those who have traveled to different parts of the world for a certain amount of time or more are rendered ineligible.  I was also once deferred because the tech working with me determined that I had an irregular heartbeat, something my actual doctor wasn't able to also determine.  It was my only non-iron related deferment.
One of the other tests that are conducted is the "finger prick" test to ensure that potential donors have enough iron in their blood to donate without risking anemia.  There is a range of acceptable iron levels. I've always fallen in the lower end of the range; there have been occasions when my count was too low and was deferred.  This is not uncommon for many women; due to menstruation and lower testosterone levels, women tend to have lower iron levels than men and sometimes have markedly lower levels if they try to donate during specific parts of their cycles.  When I've been deferred, I've always managed to bring it back up by the next attempt, usually through diet if not also careful timing of my appointments.
At my most recent appointment, my iron levels were once again in the lower range, but they were still within the margin of "normal" or "acceptable."  My pulse, blood pressure, and temperature were also normal, and I still have not spent enough time in Europe or the United Kingdom to be refused.  I was good to go, and a short time later, I was snacking on popcorn and cookies during the mandatory 15-minute post-donation waiting period, during which they fill you up with water and tasty (and often salty) snacks.
Not a week later, I received another letter.
Another f***ing letter.
Here is what the letter stated (in part):

"Thank you for your recent donation.  At that time your hemoglobin level was at the low end of the normal range, so we did an additional test on your blood for ferritin (a protein that stores iron).  The result of this test for iron deficiency show a low value; we're notifying you because this may be important to your health."
The letter went on to tell me exactly what my ferritin level was.
"What does this test result mean?  A ferritin level less than 12 is significant and may mean that you are at high risk for developing iron deficiency anemia.
If you are a whole blood or red cell donor, you must wait 24 weeks...before your next donation to rebuild your iron stores."

And then I was given a toll-free number to call if I had any questions.
I'm not sure I can express how truly upset I was to receive this letter.
I need to clarify that I fully comprehend the need to test blood for viability.  There is no substitute for human blood, but that which is donated must be free of illness because it is always given to someone whose immune system is in some way compromised, be it shock (accident victims), chemotherapy, or even surgery.  The risk for contamination is ridiculously high, which is why every time a disease like sickle cell anemia, AIDS, and bovine spongiform encephalopathy (commonly called mad cow disease) becomes a true danger, people whose risk is considered higher for being exposed to them are taken off the eligible list (for basically forever).
Likewise, I understand that donors need to keep themselves healthy.  Because only about 10% of the donor-eligible population (which makes up less than 40% of the actual populace of the US) actually do donate blood at some point in their lives, the need for blood is always great, and the health community wants to keep donors on the donating end rather than on the receiving end.  I take care to consume foods that are rich in iron and also those which help my body absorb that iron as much as possible.  I also try to take a multi-vitamin, but I really kind of suck at doing that every day.

Here is why I was so upset and what I don't understand.  My hemoglobin levels were lower, yes, but as the letter indicated, they were still within the "normal range."  So.... my hemoglobin was still within the acceptable range, but it still necessitated an additional test, which resulted in benching me for the next six months.
Here is how I heard this: you are earning a D in the class.  This is still passing, but you're going to be placed on an individualized education plan (IEP) and given special education services because you're not performing at an acceptable level.   Oh, and you're also going to be held back a semester.
Anyone who is in education knows that sometimes, students earn Ds.  Sometimes, it's for lack of effort.  Sometimes, students do need IEPs because their performance in some areas is held back due to many possible learning disabilities.  Sometimes, it's for extenuating circumstances that children just shouldn't have to deal with.
But sometimes, it's just a weak area.
That doesn't mean a student is "stupid" or "incapable," and it certainly doesn't mean that every child who is performing below "average" needs an IEP or needs to take a class over.  It just means that sometimes, someone might bust his butt every day and earn that D with as much pride as the person who earned the A with ease.
Sometimes, my hemoglobin levels are a little lower.  But they're still in the normal range.  And I'm feeling like the kid who was called stupid and got held back because I didn't have an A.

What further frustrates me is that this test is only one isolated piece of data.  Now, I am not asking United Blood Services (UBS) to consider every single one-off situation that might arise with hemoglobin, ferritin, and whatever else levels in every single person's blood stream.  But certainly, if there is a test that can ascertain that I have the HLA antibody and then another test that can look for ferritin, there must be one to measure other hormones that ebb and flow for women.  And, based on my own cycle, I know that both my hemoglobin and ferritin were likely low because my hormone levels dropped like a sack of potatoes that weekend.  If I had been paying better attention to where I was in my cycle, I probably would have made my appointment for a different date

Testing is expensive; I know this.  Putting blood samples through an extra litany of tests, multiplied by the number of blood samples that must be tested means that more money is spent on tests than on other areas that might help the blood banks like UBS.
But I am part of that 10% of that 38% of the population who wants to give blood.  Repeatedly.  For no pay save the Corn Nuts and popcorn that are available at the donation center.  I do it because I don't want to be the pint of blood that creates an "if only" situation for a family.  I am right here, United Blood Services, willing to endure extreme "discomfort" as the anticoagulant on the needle hits my skin, in order that someone else doesn't have to extreme endure pain elsewhere.  I walk through those doors ready to donate a pint.  And now I am turned away for half a year.  In that time I could donate three times.  I could help save nine lives.

While I am going to call that toll free number I was given and try to fight this as I choke down an extra helping of kale, I have a request for my readers who are also eligible donors.  Even if you have never donated before, even if you wince at the thought of asking to be poked with a needle, please consider making an appointment in the next 24 weeks.  Please go donate in my stead so that the blood supply does not go without even a single pint for that time.  Every day, 44,000 blood donations are needed.  Every two seconds, someone needs a transfusion.  That's 1800 people in the last hour.  What did you do in that hour?   If you're scared, know that many people in there are scared.  I can't even look at the needle.  EVER.  But imagine how much scarier it is for that child who is watching a parent slip away.  It tends to put everything into perspective.
Please, if you can, won't you step up and donate while I can't?
And then, maybe, you'll want to donate again once you realize how much good sitting still can do.

Workout Wednesday - Back in Training

For a while, I've been toying with the idea of finding a full marathon to complete.  I never thought I'd actually WANT to do one.  But then again, I never thought I'd want to do a 10K, either, so there's that.
But with the 15-year marker of my dad's passing coming up in 2014, I kind of wanted to honor him in a way that I hadn't before, and I thought that running a marathon, by which I could also raise money for the Colon Cancer Alliance in my efforts to eradicate this cancer that took my dad from me, would be a perfect gesture.
There are just two things wrong with my plan.
The first one is that I don't really like the idea of marking how long it's been since he died.  I began running to honor the memory of his wonderful, albeit too short, life, so it would be almost hypocritical of me to make the jump to the full marathon in memory of when that beautiful life ceased.  And even my dad both joined this world and left it during the same month - October - I think that I'd be better off focusing my efforts elsewhere.  I'm thinking about something in 2017, which would mark his 70th birthday, instead.
The second issue is that I'm starting my masters, and I don't want to commit to any marathon until I'm done with that.  Being a full time parent, wife, teacher, and student will take up enough of my time, I'm sure.
But I haven't had anything on my calendar since Pat's Run in April except the CCA's Undy 5000, which is always on my schedule, and I wanted to push myself further again.  I've already decided to do the Lost Dutchman half marathon in February, even though my masters start date is (hopefully) January.  But that left my fall literally empty.
When I was looking for a 26.2 for next year, I was steered to the Peoria Halloween Marathon, which takes place the weekend right before Halloween.  It's really the only full marathon I was able to find in Arizona in the month of October, so it would have been perfect for my original plan.  But it also works extremely well THIS year for a half marathon, so I'm signing up for it, and training has begun.
I loved using the Marathoning for Mortals book (by John "The Penguin Bingham and Jenny Hadfield) for my first half marathon.   It made the distance completely obtainable, mentally, and I felt extremely well prepared to run the distance on the morning of the race.  But this time, I've opted to use Hal Higdon's Novice 2 plan.  This one was created for the runner who has run a race (or two, maybe) but isn't quite ready to make the jump to the super serious training expected in his Intermediate plan.  Basically, it's perfect for me.  I'd like to do better than my first time, but I also just want to finish and have fun while I train, too.
Of course, being able to follow a calendar is a skill that, apparently, is completely beyond my comprehension.  I thought, ALL of last week, that I was ready to start training this week with Week 1.
Then, all of a sudden, I looked at the calendar and realized I was thinking a week behind.  Technically, I should have started the week of the 4th.
Last week.  Not this week.
So, oops.
I jumped in to the plan on Saturday, running the 4 miles that were on the calendar, and it was fine.  Even though I took a week off running, those miles felt really great.  Since it's still ridiculously hot, I ran two miles with Zooey, and then dropped her off at home before doing two more.  I'll likely be doing something of that nature until it either cools down or forever, depending on her energy levels (I hate to admit that she's almost middle aged).  I was crazy tired that night, but I felt better Sunday, and I'm looking forward to seeing how this plan, which has me running three days in a row during the week, will be on my legs and body.
Even with these two races added in, I'm pretty sure I won't meet my mileage goal for this year, but I'm OK with that.  Considering that the first four months of this year, which are prime running weather months here in Arizona, I was sidelined by plenty of injury and illness, I'm going to plan on calling 2013 a win in the mileage column anyway.
I'm really looking forward to hitting longer runs soon, even if I have to leave Zooey at home for them (she didn't like being left home, by the way - she was barking at me as I left as if to say, "Hey! You forgot me!"), and now that I know what I'm capable of for the half marathon, I'm excited at the prospect of working on my pacing, etc., so help me become a better runner.  Hopefully I'll see everything come to fruition at the finish line.

Bloggers for Beka (Or, Kicking Crohn's to the Curb)

We all have those friends whom we can call at any time of the day if we're having a hard time; those friends will answer the phone and listen with a sympathetic ear.

Then there are those friends who will come over in the middle of the night to help you deal with an issue in person.

And then there are those friends, scarce in number, who will not only help you bury the body, but tell you the best spot to do so.

KIDDING.

Sort of.

Beka and Megan are in that last, rare class of friends.  Two friends who are so close that I can't imagine anything that could cause one to waver in her support and love of the other, even in the case of hiding the body of someone who had the temerity to say that Chili's is the best restaurant in Seattle.

KIDDING AGAIN.

Maybe.  I wouldn't risk testing it.

Beka has Crohn's; she can tell you about it here, and I think it's best that the words come from her, so please click over to understand what it's like to have Crohn's once the poop jokes have worn off.  While I firmly believe that humor is an important aspect of dealing, coping, or persevering through difficult situations, it can only get you so far.

Friends can get you further.

Last year, if you recall, Megan hosted the first Bake Sale for Beka, which raised funds for the Crohn's and Colitis Foundation of America, a group for which Beka will be running her first half marathon later this year.  This is a group that is important to Beka, and by extension, to Megan.  But in the last year and a half, these two women have become cherished friends of mine, and as such, the Foundation is important to me.  

So I am only too happy to participate in this year's Bake Sale for Beka, hosted once again by Megan over at Wanna Be a Country Cleaver.  While last year's event was a success, the sheer quantity AND quality of goods and goodies is staggering, and you will not want to miss out on getting your mitts on some of the amazing items up for auction.

For a preview and to become familiar with the rules and procedures, you can check out this post that Megan posted the other day.  The auction is live from 7AM PDT on Saturday, June 22 until 8PM PDT on Sunday, June 23 (that's three hours behind anyone on the east coast).  You can go directly to the auction post by clicking here.

For my part, I have donated a pan of homemade marshmallows in one of the following flavors (winner's choice): piña colada, lemon, berry, chocolate, or original (these are so good that you really can't call them "plain").

Adorable child filching your marshmallows not included

This is an entire 9x13 pan full of mallow heaven.  Gigantic pillows of gooey, sugary delights that go SO WELL with graham crackers and chocolate.  Or by themselves over the sink so no one sees the powdered sugar evidence (pro tip: wipe off your face when you're done).  But my recommendation is to enjoy them with friends.  After all, friendship is what is getting you this pan of mallows in the first place.

Sure beats having to hide a body in the middle of the night.

Three Things I Love Thursday - Favorite Apps

I make no secret of loving my iPhone.  It completes me.  It's the cheese to my macaroni.  We are basically soul mates.  And before you think that Husband needs to know about my overly abundant adoration toward my phone, please know that he has two of them.
My dad would have loved the iPhone and the technology behind all the apps that can be downloaded.  My phone has more memory than his last computer, and I take full advantage of it so I can spend my time checking Twitter all day playing My Little Pony with HRH creating interesting videos to send to my students and other important stuff.
While some of my apps are admittedly mindless fun (I'm looking at you, Bejeweled Plus), there are a few that I just cannot be without.  These three are my current favorite.

Drink Right
Between living in Arizona and running, I need to stay hydrated.  I had thought that I was doing a pretty good job of it, having a full glass of water at my desk almost all the time.  But I saw this one day in Apps Gone Free and decided to see how well I was actually doing.  Friends, I was sorely underestimating how much water I drink in a given day.
The Drink Right app uses the "equation" that your daily water consumption should be your weight in ounces divided by two.  So, if someone weighed 150 pounds, he or she would need to drink 75 ounces of water each day.  Additionally, the app does not allow a person to chug 32 ounces of water twice a day to get to that total; it is meted out throughout the day to ensure that a person is consistently hydrated (and probably not sprinting to the toilet for a marathon pee session).
The notifications are easy to hear, even when I have my phone on vibrate.  Sometimes, if I forget, which I do, it gets a little bossy, even giving me exclamation points at the end of its warning sentence!  Harrumph!  But thus far I've been able to manage to get my allotted water plus more each day.
For my purposes, I don't count the water I drink while I'm out on a run.  I figure that the water I drink then is rehydrating, not just hydrating.  And when I run now, in the heat of summer (even at 4:30 in the morning), it really should be more than the original equation.
Since downloading this app, I've noticed that I am less thirsty while I run.  I subscribe to the rule of "drink when you're thirsty," and I find myself reaching for my bottle a little less.  Bonus - I can have beer in the evening and still run the next morning without feeling like I want to die!  Hooray beer - I mean water (which is in beer, so hooray beer)!

My one complaint for this is that I can't customize it per day for those mornings I wake up super early (4:15) and those days when I'm lucky enough to not wake up until 7:00 (a luxury when you have an early-rising child).  I've played around with the time settings, though, and I think I've found a happy medium that doesn't have me drinking the second I wake when I'm able to sleep in.

Charity Miles
This is a brilliant concept.  I started running to raise money for the Colon Cancer Alliance in memory of my dad.  It's really what every run is geared toward.  So when I learned about Charity Miles, I was on board.
The idea is this: turn on the app.  Pick a charity.  Go for a run (or walk or bike ride).  Log your miles.
The miles you go earns money for your selected charity.  Yesterday, I ran a mere two miles, I helped send 4 meals to those affected by the tornadoes in Oklahoma.  And all I had to do was thank the current sponsor and send out a tweet to spread the word.
It's a wonderful way to help those who are sick, who are homeless, or who are otherwise unable to help themselves by just lacing up your shoes and heading out.  Even if you're not a charity runner, this is an app that you can have on during a run with literally zero additional effort.

The app is a little tough to read when the monthly sponsor's logo is in the background, and it's hard for me to go back to see the impact I have made each time I ran, but I am looking forward to helping make a difference for so many wonderful organizations.

Run4Good
Saucony is my current shoe of choice (my Guide 5 was recently discontinued, so I have two more pairs before I have to decide whether the Guide 6 works for me or if I have to move on).  While I love the way the shoes feel, I also love Saucony's sense of corporate responsibility.
Run4Good is another app that can enable you to have a major impact with no additional work, even if you don't wear Saucony gear.  Each month, if the goal miles - thus far 10,000 miles per month - are met by the collective runners who use the app, Saucony makes a donation to its chosen charity.  The charities that Saucony features are dedicated to ending childhood obesity in America.  This month's charity is Twin Cities in Motion.  The collective has run 1,739 miles this month, as of yesterday evening.

When I first downloaded this, I forgot that I had it on one day until like ten hours later, so by the time I stopped the run, I had gone something like 50 miles (I was in the car for a while - sorry, GPS).  But I was able to delete that run so as not to cheat, even though I want each charity to receive the donation every month.  At this point, I have a routine at the end of my runs that include the systematic closing out of each app (I run with both Charity Miles and Run4Good in the background while I log my "official" miles on my NikePlus app).

Whether you're a runner or not, we can all benefit from being properly hydrated.  And for those runner friends of mine, even if you don't run for charity like I do, you can make a huge difference in the lives of others when you download and use Charity Miles and Run4Good.

Are you drinking enough water?  What are your favorite apps lately?

"No More Hurting People"

After a week of bombings in Boston, ricin in Senatorial and Presidential mail, an explosion in Texas, an earthquake in China, and an avalanche in Colorado, the country collectively needs Something Good to hold onto.  My heart has been especially leaden in these last seven days.
Three of these tragedies were either accidents or acts of nature, although this doesn't help make the loss of lives any easier.  Yes, I know people are already trying to argue carelessness in West, but it was still an accident, occurring without malice.  But the bombings in Boston, which took four lives, and the ricin sent to the White House, were done on purpose.  By people who wanted to cause suffering, pain, and even death.  I cannot fathom this.  I don't understand a degree of hatred and unhappiness so great that one would be willing to take another's life.  Yes, violence has been part of humanity since its emergence onto this planet.  But I don't think I'll ever get used to the intimacy that some people have with invoking Death for others.
That in Boston those who died were spectators makes the events of the marathon so much worse, in my mind.  Running is a sport that doesn't even seem to surround itself with "fans."  Even if you're not a basketball fan, you know who Michael Jordan and Lebron James are.  Few people don't know of Derek Jeter.  But ask your average "man on the street" who Meb Keflezighi or Kara Goucher, you'll probably get a blank stare.  While other sports' athletes that take place in smaller, closed in venues show their appreciation to those who pay top dollar to see them play, it seems that the appreciation runners have for those who come out to cheer is in a special class of honor.  And these were the people who were hurt, the people who lost their precious lives.  These people who came to cheer on their friends, their parents, their town.  The streets of Heaven are truly too crowded with angels this week.
Bad news seems to be all around us; it's almost the norm of late.  Even locally, we have the privilege of the media spotlight being on the trial of a woman who is accused of killing the man who jilted her (how this case has become the newest national trial is beyond me, but I have no desire to find out what intrigues so many) and a litany of drive by shootings.  It's easy to start to think that because the reporting of such sad news is the norm, it's also the norm of society to lean toward those violent, inhumane tendencies.
His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama disagrees: "...love and compassion predominate in the world.  And this is why unpleasant events are news, compassionate activities are so much a part of daily life that they are taken for granted and, therefore, largely ignored."
It is my hope that we can stop taking the compassionate activities for granted but still make them that seamless, integral part of our everyday lives.  Maybe that's the key to see the bad news, even if it's not the norm, fade away from our nightly newscasts.
This evening then, I, like many other runners throughout the Valley and country, took a run to honor the people of Boston and to DO Something Good for others, for the running community, and for ourselves.  There were at least six runs in the Metro area, and while I had originally planned to head closer to downtown Phoenix, since The Husband was working late, HRH and I stayed close to home, heading out to Sole Sports in Tempe, where I get all my shoes and most of my gear.
It was truly lovely to see so many people at all different levels of running ability come out, most of them in varying shades of yellow and blue.  There were a handful of dogs (we opted to keep Zooey at home) and plenty of kids, although most of them were either stroller age or old enough to run at least two miles without frequent water breaks.  There was a general air of camaraderie  as people chatted with friends and strangers alike before we all headed out, and HRH found a little girl about her age to run around with.

She loved it.

Until she face planted and scraped the heck out of her knee.

In my attempt to help her feel better, I told her that Kat had also gotten an "owie" last year during her training and was able to run again.  Let's not split hairs about the fact that a scrape on the knee and tendinitis are not in the same ballpark - an owie is an owie is an owie, when you are four.  Slightly inspired, she asked me to take this snap to send to "Miss Kat."  

To subsequently learn that Kat ALSO has purple shoes ("we are basically twins") was enough to perk her up in time to get some homemade frozen yogurt (really frozen bananas and strawberries with a few chocolate chips) for "dinner."

She's pretty much a Kat protege. 

So, HRH had her first DNF.  

But in this fall, which brought nearly instant tears, I worked to help her learn a valuable lesson that we as a country and world had to be reminded of this week: it's important to get up and keep going, to not allow it to stop her from going forward.

Because without those who went forward this last week, the numbers, horrific even at one, could have been much higher.  I shudder to think of what may have transpired without those who didn't run toward the sights that we would instinctively run away from.  Most of those who died in West were those who had responded to the fire that subsequently caused the explosion.  There were runners in Boston who ripped out the IVs that were rehydrating them in order to make room for those who had lost limbs.  We'd all like to think we would do the same thing, but we never know until we are faced with running toward or running away.

Tonight, I hope that by honoring the people of Boston, my daughter will always be one of those who run toward.

If you are able, you can help by making donations to:

• The One Fund (Boston)
• The American Red Cross (nationwide)
• The Austin Disaster Relief Network (in Austin, for West)
• or any other vetted, reliable organization - do your homework, and consider not just sending a check; blood is always needed throughout the year, as are toiletries and grocery store gift cards.

Together, we can stop taking those compassionate acts for granted and start keeping them front and center.