Strides for Change: Run, Read, React

I’ve been a runner for the majority of my life. Some twisted soul decided cross-country and track should be the only sports available to students at my elementary school. So while most children participated in modified soccer, basketball, or softball- I was running hills (for fun?). I still don’t understand how my coaches coaxed a bunch of 4th-8th graders to run repeats and long distances. But I am eternally grateful to Mr. Robinson and Mrs. Rogers for introducing me to my favorite pastime. I only wish I had realized my love earlier and thanked them properly.

Unfortunately, I was under appreciative and decided not to run my 8th grade year (my coaches were not very happy). But like the young brokenhearted always say, “If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, it’s your forever.” Well, I can’t exactly say I let running “go”. I suppose in the scenario, running let me go. And I came back years later, on my own, and the rest is history.

Running and I have been living happily ever after for a while now. In college I started tackling races again. At first it was satisfying, but eventually I started to feel a void. Running offered me so much- an outlet for my stress, a decent pair a legs, and a healthy appetite. In a loving relationship (if you can call it that) there reaches a point when the two participants fill each other so much that they overflow and offer something to the rest of the world. I realized running and I were reaching that point and I didn’t know where to channel the overflow. That’s when I encountered Team in Training.

Team in Training is a team (no really?) that trains (what?) to run some amazing races across the nation. What makes this team so unique? They don’t just run, they are responsible for fundraising over $1.4 billion. The money they raise goes to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (LLS)- a group dedicated to ending blood cancers today. They are responsible for radical research that saves lives. Just last weekend, I heard Darren, a survivor of stage IV Hodgkin Lymphoma, tell his story. Darren was diagnosed during his engagement and he and his then fiance postponed their wedding for treatment. When chemo was unsuccessful, the two lovebirds got married and enjoyed their honeymoon before turning to LLS. The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society offered him a stem cell transplant that provide him and his now wife 10 years... and their story isn’t over.

I joined the team without a personal connection to blood cancer. At first, I felt like I didn’t have the right to ask people for money, because I didn’t have a moving story. I also felt I didn’t need to go to practices, because I was already in half marathon shape. Oh the things I have learned. I went to my second practice this weekend and was overwhelmed by the support and stories of others. Everyone was so invested in helping each other reach their goal- their support overflowed and poured into one another. One second I was a stranger, the next a teammate. Everyone was amazing- they are the kind of people I want to be surrounded by daily. Needless to say, I will be attending a lot more practices from now on. I was inspired and left the practice feeling like a vital asset to the mission. 

My quest to run for more than myself has proven more transformative than I thought. I  am not only challenged to raise more money than ever before, but I am recognizing a need for companionship during this time in my life- I am a new resident of Seattle missing her deployed running partner. Most importantly, I  am learning to care deeply about the mission and its ability to bring hope. I carry every story I hear with me and it encourages me to keep pounding the pavement- through ran, wind, and hail. Someone’s story can change for the better.

Please click HERE and donate on my website. Cancer ends with us!

Thank you for reading and reacting.

Go Team!!

Don't Judge A Person By Their Polaroid

I moved out to Seattle in May and, despite my constant exposure to change, I am not immune to the transition associated with it. We all adapt differently to change and I am beginning to recognize my own challenges in making a new place feel like home.

Recently, Richard, the head pastor at Bethany Community Church, stated that “intimacy is not microwaveable.” We cannot expedite our way into deep meaningful relationships by popping it in the microwave for two and a half minutes. It takes time, patience, and a lot of effort to create genuine lasting friendships. That was very hard for me to accept, as a woman who craves constant change. But as I let the idea marinate, I recognized the truth behind his words and found, in my own life, where I struggle to form intimate bonds.

When I first meet people, I see them as 2 dimensional. The facts I associate with them- their name (if I can remember it), occupation, home state, hobbies etc., become the only truths about them. Unfortunately, more times than not, these surface details leave a flat and relatively uninteresting impression. I forget to leave room for their character to reveal itself. As a writer and a people person, this revelation is nothing short of horrifying. Also, it confirms the origin of my least favorite habit.

I have an irrational need to spill my own soul to strangers and mere acquaintances. I want them to see my depth immediately for fear of dismissal or disinterest. I don’t want them to do to me, what I often do to others. In the process, I share too much, leaving myself vulnerable and exposed to those who didn’t earn my trust. Basically, I try very hard to microwave my own intimacy... always unsuccessfully. 

Fortunately, my 2D view is never permanent and always develops into something positive. Slowly (the way intimacy is meant to happen) I start to peel away the surface and delve into good stuff. My initial paper-thin perception starts to expand and gain width. This newfound girth creates understanding and compassion- revealed complexities leave little room for annoyance or judgement and make space for unconditional love. The 2D often captures an unflattering snapshot of a person, while the 3D allows us to dismiss the initial negative and reveal the infinite intricacies of human beings. Despite my awareness of this, I still find myself extremely surprised every time I encounter contradictions to my first impression. It’s like getting exactly what I wanted on Christmas morning without even asking. I love it. However, I do not approve of the instantaneous judgement that precedes it. So this week, I have turned my critical eye on myself in hopes of breaking my habit. Instead, I found I already harbored a superficial version of myself.  

To the inceptive eye, I am a talkative, friendly, confident army brat that feeds into the military stereotype of getting married young and hurriedly. I’m that girl that moved across country for the man she loved, who makes feminist cringe because she hasn’t figured out her career yet.  

All along, I’ve carried this 2D perception of myself in my sub conscience. Although a part of me knows I am more than that, I have given weight to the potential (not actual) misperceptions others might make of me. This need to be liked and understood breeds a damaging insecurity that can be paralyzing. Not to mention, it hinders intimacy. Despite the truth that I am a strong, independent woman (I moved out to Seattle to start a life knowing that my fiance would be deployed), my story is overshadowed by my insecurity that people will overlook my character and see this untrue shadow of myself as the whole package. 

To overcome this detrimental habit, I must let go of my 2D image of myself. I need to have grace for myself, so I can regain confidence and abolish insecurity. That way, I can look at other people with the same grace and stop the unflattering proofs from ever becoming photographs. Intimacy is not microwavable, but it is achievable if we are wiling to put in the time and overlook that initial snapshot.