13.1 Lessons from my First Half Marathon

1. Age/Size Doesn't Matter When Pursuing A Dream.
At the beginning of the race I psyched myself out because I didn't see anyone that "looked like me". Everyone was very athletic, very thin, mostly very young. I felt old and fat. I felt nauseous, deflated, and ready to quit before I even started. Then I envisioned my kids telling their friends I was "running 13 miles straight" before I left the day before. They said it like it was impossible and I was doing it. I was pretty much superhuman to them. This was my dream and it didn't matter that I was older than some because some were older than me, it didn't matter that I was bigger than some- because some were bigger than me. Age and size don't matter when your pursuing a dream, you just go for it!

2. Don’t waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind; The
race is long, and in the end, it’s only with yourself . ( see video from the year I graduated HS 1999 -- see I'm citing references)
When we took off I was running pretty slowly, lots of people were flying by me, kicking the dry Colorado dirt up in my face. For at least the first five minutes EVERYONE was passing me. They had longer legs, better genetics, and more aerodynamic footwear. But at mile 5 many of those same people were puking on the side of the path and I was chugging along. It was exactly the boost I needed. My legs were strong, my dna was more than adequate and my running shoes were pink and perfect.

3. Believe.
My friend Trisha gave me a beautiful bracelet for the race. It had one word on it. Believe. It meant a lot to me because she has been there for me for ALL but ONE of my races. Over the last year she has been next to me always, well in reality she has been mostly in front of me. She agreed to fly hundreds of miles to run this half-marathon. She trained for weeks before with me, and pushed me to keep going. We have run countless miles together, shared countless laughs, and she is my sole sista. She has always believed in me. Believed in what I was doing even when I didn't believe in myself. And for that I am forever indebted. Thank You Trisha for being you! I couldn't ask for a better friend. Where we going next?

4. Anyone can run a half marathon.
This is the one absolute truth. From the day I decided to run to today I know that anyone can run. Make a decision to start today, run one side of a block, run a mile, walk three. Just start. Don't make excuses. Just keep moving.

5. Be inspired by others.
When you think you can't- Look around you and know that someone is doing it that has to work a lot harder than you. During the Slacker An 80 year old man crosses the finish line with his grandchildren holding his hands. A blind woman with her teammates by her side. A pregnant woman finishes steps behind me. A woman with a heart transplant runs the Slacker as her 46th race in the two years since her transplant. I am continually inspired by the courage, dedication, and strength of others.

6. Running a half marathon makes you feel invincible.
Really.

7. You can do it alone, but its nice to have someone at your side.
I ran this race with some very important people. My good friend Emily who stood by me on this important day. I truly consider this to be one of the things I am most personally proud of. It is an accomplishment I never expected and anyone who knows me would have never anticipated. She also stood by me the day I married Steve. She is the kind of friend you can always count on. The kind of friend who you can lose touch with and pick right back up like no time has passed at all. Our friendship is easy. She is beautiful. smart, talented, athletic. She may be the ONLY athletic friend I ever had. She would try and get me to exercise with her for years and I would just politely decline. She has been so supportive since I started and always asking about my training like I am not an outsider to the world of fitness. She always accepts me ( and everyone for that matter) for exactly who they are, and that is a rare find.

8. Push through the walls, its easier on the other side.
Its true that if you push through just when you think you cant, you can. Just when things seem over-- a window of opportunity opens. A downhill. A friendly runner. A good song on your playlist. A beautiful mountain. A cool drink. A cousin you haven't seen in 20 years. A cool breeze across your neck. A prayer. Push through, its easier on the other side.

9. All it takes is all you've got.
Really.

10. Listen to your body.
I ran consistently. When I was too tired I walked. I didn't beat myself up. I caught my breath and then ran again. Running at paced intervals made me feel like it was possible. At mile 12, I still felt good. I was running faster than I thought I could. But at mile 12.5 I saw a water station up ahead that I mistook for the finish line. I sprinted only to hear " half a mile more" " just around that corner". I was spent. I saw Trisha's skirt sparkle up ahead and she said it was right there. I turned the corner and sprinted in front of my two biggest competitors an 80 year old man and a pregnant woman. Mission accomplished. I nearly fell at the finish line. It was hard to breathe. It kept telling Emily, " I cant breathe, I cant breathe. " She simply said, " Your talking, Your breathing". She was right. I slowed my air intake, drank some water given to me by a fellow runner, and felt better in minutes.

11. If you cant be fast you should at least be cute.

12. Share the lessons you have learned by paying it forward.
I enjoy blogging about running almost as much as running. Thank you all for reading my little but loud blog. If I can inspire one person to get out there and prove themselves possible. Prove that you can do it-- even if you think you cant. Even if other people tell you you shouldn't. Even when it seems impossible. The first day I ran I was over 260 pounds. I couldn't run the side of a block. One year later and I ran a half marathon.Take a risk. Believe that somewhere inside of you is a person who is destined to do great things. Tie those laces. And Run.

13. Pain is temporary. Pride is forever.
When I was done. Everything that could hurt did. And the truth is I couldn't be prouder.
My running injuries are my battle wounds. And battle wounds are sexy. I ran the race in 2 hours and 41 minutes. My personal best.

.1 "The miracle isn't that I finished. The miracle is that I had the courage to start."
-John Bingham

Running Truths 101

Running Truths 101.  I will dispense this information free of charge to anyone who cares to read this little but loud blog under a single set of conditions that you will not correct my atrocious spelling, bad grammar, or run on sentences. Oh... and also you cannot correct my bad habit of exaggerating facts and numbers, I find that to be one of the more charming pieces of my personality and it makes for a more entertaining story. People don't care so much for exactness, but an entertaining and colorful story now that's to be revered. Maybe I should consider adding the caveat to this particular blog that is is based on a very true story.  Also my medical and fitness information and advice is based solely on my experiences as a professional photographer who likes to run.

#1 Continuous small runs are more effective

Do not feel like you have to run long distances to be a runner! If you run one mile, your a runner! If you continue to train your body you can build up to longer runs. Its better to do 3 small runs a week, than to try and go 6 miles on one day a week. Breaking it down even further-- its better for your body to run in intervals than to try and run continuously. Many novice runners believe that you have to run non-stop! I have found this to be absolutely false! I run faster than many people in my fitness/age group by running intervals. I run 30 seconds fast as I can and then walk 30 seconds-- Over and Over and over and over and I can safely shave minutes off my "regular run" times.


#2 I am responsible for my own success!

No one can wake up for me. No one can get out that door. No one can drive me to the YMCA every day. No one can be responsible for my success but me. AND sometimes that sucks. Being a very social person its very hard to workout alone. Up until very recently I NEVER worked out alone. If I couldn't find a buddy I would stay home. I would call it a "rest" day, and while recovery time is important I think whats more important is to stop thinking of your "rest days" as a vacation. Think about working out as relaxing and not just one more thing you HAVE to do everyday. I started running/working out alone and at first I hated it, but now I am growing to enjoy being all alone, I am much more observant and I am saving all kinds of oxygen by not talking when I am supposed to be running. I used to think I had to be accountable to other people or I would quit, but the truth is I only have myself to be accountable to and in the end it will show if I worked hard or slacked off.
 Every time I run I want to quit. I get the urge to stop every single time I run, sometimes its after a block, sometimes six miles in. Its not my body asking me, its my brain. Running is a peculiar activity it requires so much more mental strength than physical, and the ability to overcome those urges to quit, the urges to walk that last mile is what makes you stronger.  The same applies to life. Life is difficult, sometimes people treat you poorly, sometimes life deals you a raw deal, sometimes things just suck-- but our ability as humans to overcome that and keep going is what makes us extraordinary. When I feel the urge to quit I think about the old Sarah, the one who did more sitting than anything else, the one who made excuses for eating poorly, the one who made excuses for not working out and I push myself to just make it to the end of that block without stopping.  Just to the end of the block, and when I reach the end of that block its just to that one tree up ahead, or just until the song ends on my mp3 player then my brain stops sending negative messages. I stop telling myself to quit. Its just not an option.

#3 Fitness has to be FUN!

Running can be boring, that's why so many people claim to hate running. Hopefully anyone who reads this blog knows that running is anything but boring. I have done so many exciting runs and am always on the lookout for more fun runs. Warrior Dash/Color Run/Gladiator Challenge are just a few of the most fun races around! I cant wait to expand my goals to include adventure style races with biking, canoeing, swimming. I think the only way a person will learn to enjoy working out is to make sure its fun! Build yourself a great support system of people who love to be active! Join a softball team, take classes at the YMCA, meet your friends and go for walks everyday. If fitness isn't fun you will quit. If it is fun you will run with a 101 degree temperature, sore throat, and on the verge of vomiting,  up ski hills in heat, through fire, creeks, and mudslides and not even wince.

The day of the Gladiator Challenge at Seven Oaks in Boone, Iowa I woke up sick. I had a temperature, a sore throat, and felt sick to my stomach. I thought about calling in sick for this one, but decided it would be a huge waste of a great day to not go out anyways! I couldn't bear to miss out on a day with my skirts and what is more fun than getting sweaty and muddy in Boone, Iowa?  Ok, well I can think of a few things-- but not many! The Gladiator Challenge included 6 miles of trail running and 30 obstacles. I was worried but not too worried about the challenge, I knew I could do it, but could I complete it sick?  We warmed up with a walk up HUGE ski hill a minimum of a half mile! By the time I got to the top I was already tired. After a little yoga thanks to our kindly philanthropic chairperson Steph M, we lined up at the start line, we were the final wave of the day. I like the gun shooting off at the start line. I also like going really fast at first ( even though your not supposed to) because I feel like for those few minutes I am beating everyone else. My goal was to finish in less than two hours. I like to think of my goals in a specific way. I tell my friends all the time my mouth moves faster than my brain and my brain works faster than my legs. So I set my goals really high and then I carry a very small eraser.  The first part of the race was downhill and through some very toxic smoke and fire. I leapt over the fire with at least a 6 inch vertical and bounded to the next obstacle. The scary part about this race is for the majority of it I was all alone running through trails in  woods. It felt like an athletic Blair Witch remake.

 I would come across other runners and hear them cheering each other on. Maybe my most favorite part of race day is the kinship of everyone there-- people you know, people you don't know, people of all shapes, sizes and athletic abilities. All there for one purpose and they are so supportive! Yelling "great job!" " you can do it" and the thing is that cheering really does help!There is an unspoken kinship between runners, even if its your first race, even if you finish last,  the energy is electric! This race made me especially happy because my friend Kathy ran the ENTIRE race while going through chemotherapy treatments. She held hands with my friend Steph as they crossed the finish line and the photo embodies everything a Dirty Skirt is.  Strong. Courageous. Loyal. Encouraging. I am constantly reminded what a powerful group of women who surround me and what this team is all about. To date the Dirty Skirts have raised over $3,000 dollars for local charities-- and this year we are raising money for Triple Negative Breast Cancer, as our friend Kathy battles against it we have found a way to raise awareness and honor her amazing spirit and strength.

I ran, climbed, jumped, slid, trampled, crawled, scaled, balanced, hurdled, dodged, carried, and swam The Gladiator Challenge in one hour and fifty minutes.  I ran through sickness. I ran through my mind telling me I wasn't going to make it. I ran through people passing me. I ran through being alone. I didn't think. I just did. This month I was called an athlete by a stranger, I stopped almost started laughing and then started crying instead. I hastily wiped away the couple of tears that snuck out.( we all know I am a crier) I was in shock it is not an adjective I have ever been called or would have ever expected to be called. I felt for a very small moment like I had arrived.

We finished the night with a tailgate party and margaritas. And in a surprising turn of events I didn't feel at all sick anymore.  And all was well with the world.

Madrid High Trestle Run by Tera

This Blog was written by my friend and fellow skirt Tera! LOVE!

Madrid High Trestle Run

I have to start by telling you that this has been an overwhelming year for me.  After much patience, about a year ago my husband and I reached the “right time” to try to have a baby.  I have 2 kids from my previous marriage and knew that having a baby might be an uphill climb for us.  He has no children and I’ve had some mild infertility issues in the past.  I wanted to do everything I could to make this happen. 

I am hesitant to admit that I have always been a yo-yo diet and exerciser.  I wasn’t born with good genetics and my brain fights my body on the injustice of that.  I go back and forth between accepting what God gave me and wanting to live how I want to live with remembering how incredible I feel when I’m in good shape and my clothes fit better. 

So when this crazy chick from the YMCA (Kathy, you know who you are) kept bugging me while on the elliptical to join the boot camp, I finally gave in.  I have never been a fan of group exercise, but it was go time and I wanted to do everything I could to help the process, most importantly, reducing my BMI. 

I had no idea what to expect with this boot camp.  It’s at a YMCA in the dink town of Boone, Iowa; it couldn’t be that bad, right?  My only training to this point had been an elliptical for 3-4 days a week, 45 minutes.  I was not prepared for what was to come.  We “ran” a mile before every class.  By that, I mean that I ran about 2 blocks, then cried because it was too hot and I couldn’t breathe.  Then in the Iowa heat we would run more, only taking breaks to do calisthenics.   I would have to say that my favorite class was when we were flipping tractor tires in 90-degree heat (please note sarcasm).  It was a pretty inspiring group and after all of their encouragement it was easy for me to agree to the next session.  Then before I know it, someone invited me to run with them after class.  I’d never really felt like I belonged anywhere so I jumped on the opportunity, despite the fact that I didn’t think that I was physically capable.  Then before I know it, I’m running!  Don’t get me wrong, I’ve run before, but only on my treadmill, in a climate-controlled space, where nobody could see.  For those of you who remember, I always felt like Phoebe in that episode of friends that she ran with Rachael, arms and legs flailing embarrassingly.

Before I know it, I am calling these women friends and I have a support system.  Flash forward to November.  At this point I had decided that if I looked like a runner I would feel like a runner, you know the old saying… dress the part.  I was still trying to convince myself that I could use the title of “runner.”  Dressed in my best cold weather gear and with 2 awesome people at my side, I ran over 6 miles on the High Trestle Bridge in Madrid, IA at 30-degrees, just before a 12 hour shift at work.  I had just enough time to thaw out my hair before getting there just barely on time.  I WAS a runner! 

About a week later a group of us planned to go for a run.  Daylight savings time was not my friend that night and it was darker than we had expected.  While running towards a more well lit area I fell.  I’ll save you the gory details and just say that I chipped a bone in my ankle, almost completely tore one ligament, and slightly damaged another.  And my world came crashing in on me.  I felt like I lost my identity and was failing in life.  I wasn’t a runner anymore and we still weren’t pregnant.  I felt defeated, like the world had beat me down and put me back where I belonged.  But this time it was different.  I had friends!  They supported me, accepted me, and encouraged me in my goals.  I went to physical therapy and continued to run on an anti-gravity treadmill.  I recovered from my injury.  Yet somehow I slipped deeper into a depression.  I had gained back the weight I had lost and found myself making excuses for not trying.  My friends were all continuing on their journey of doing races every month, I kept convincing myself that I was still a runner despite my lack of actually running.  So when a race came up in my hometown, on my day off, it was time to prove to myself that I still was.  I was determined to do that 5K.  I’m sure you’re all waiting to hear how all that positive thinking and the support of my friends, I slayed that race, right?  Not even close!  I like to blame weather for some of my shortcomings so God made it easy that day by blessing us with a temp of 92 with 85% humidity.  I was barely past the starting line when I was sweating like a pig and gasping for air.  Between allergies, asthma, weather conditions, and let me be the most honest, my complete lack of exercise and training, I was sure that this race was going to do me in.  Our group openly accepts honorary members for races and this race was a woman who hadn’t trained a lot agreed to stay with me.  She told me her goals for racing; cross the finish line, have fun.  So that’s what I did.  And her words and support made me realize what was blaringly obvious in the racing run world.  There is always someone there to support you.  Within one silly race I felt like I hit an all time low and a high at the same time.  I had to admit that I was out of shape and in a bad place.   I also realized that I was in the right place to run right back to the top.  In my experiences, I don’t feel like I’ve ever been judged by another runner.  I’m sure there are many that are competitive; I’ve always been too far behind to be familiar with that group.  What I can say is that when you show up with the determination to finish a race, there is never a shortage of perfect strangers, fellow runners, to cheer you on and help reach those goals of having fun and crossing the finish line.  I also believe that when you have the heart of a runner, there is no room for judgments.  I never feel more like myself than when I run, it reminds me who I am.  The world gets quit and I find my center.  There are no kids screaming for my constant attention, no thoughts of my fertility failures, no messy house to take care of.  It’s just me, my breath, and my favorite music, and if only for a moment, the world feels right.         

Run. Mud. Beer.

There is nothing I love more than a weekend away with my Dirty Skirts! The weekend of Cinco de Mayo I ran the Warrior Dash 5K. with 3 of my favorite skirts.  We left on a road trip on Friday evening KC bound! One thing I can say about this race is if you get the opportunity to do one YOU SHOULD! 
The morning of the race we ate our weights in complimentary breakfast.  We drove 45 minutes to find a parking lot about 3 miles from our hotel and rode one of 50 yellow school buses with seats covered in Hefty sacks. My butt stuck to the seat on the ride over, my nerves make me sweaty and sweat makes me feel like a warrior. So thank you to the plastic seat covers and coochie sweat for the first step in my warrior transformation. I wasn't worried about the run, but I was worried about the obstacles. I was worried I would have to skip obstacles all together. I think they give the fuzzy viking helmets out at the start to pump you up! While posing for photo ops, I started to build up my self talk inner monologue. Its about complete not compete. Be confident. Be courageous. Do something new. Do your best. Never Give Up.  It doesn't matter how many races I have run, I still get nervous. I got the same feeling when I would be on stage in high school and college waiting for my entrance. Or when I would be preparing to sing at a wedding or a funeral and my stomach would fill with nervous anticipation and as soon as I hit that first note I felt instantly better. My stomach would take its normal position in my abdomen  instead of my throat and I would just do what came naturally. Running does not come natural to me. Every step is a challenge. Each time I run it takes effort, discipline. Its doing what I need to do even when you don't want to do it. Its knowing what you want for your life and doing whatever it takes to get it.  Its why I love my running friends-- because they get that. They understand why I have to watch what I eat. They know why skipping a workout ruins my day. They know even though I have butterflies I will ALWAYS take that first step. 
The first step of the Warrior Dash was HOT a balmy 88 degrees and thus the challenge begins.

The challenges were just that challenging. If you are afraid of heights beware. I was so proud of my good friend Stephanie who overcame a huge fear of heights this day. She did however choose to tell us the day of the race that any fall more than 12 feet is a 50/50 chance of death.  I couldn't have completed two of the obstacles without my fellow warriors. The first was the tipped catamarans-- the challenge was to swim out to the middle of the pond, pull yourself onto these giant buoys walk across them and then jump off and swim to the other side. Since I am only a little over five foot, this poses a problem. I couldn't reach to pull myself up because my arms are too short, and I couldn't touch the ground to push myself up so there was NO WAY I could complete this alone. Now just as my head went under for the third time two fellow warriors grabbed a leg and pushed me up-- at this point I was airborne but thankfully not drowned. The second was a 14 foot fire pole, you climb to the top of a 14 foot incline (easy) and then slide down the fire pole (impossible). I talk the girls into going down and then when I am alone at the top I freeze-- I cant move. I cant breathe. I definitely cant jump. I watched at least three people jump and hit HARD. The girls are standing below giving me jumping tips. "Get your hands wet", " Hold loosely", "wrap your body around it" "you can do this". I close my eyes, wrap my entire body around this pole and jump! In two seconds flat I am at the bottom and on my butt.One big warrior leg burn to prove I did it! But I did do it! The girls are there ready to run and off we go through walls, mud, fire, and brimstone. It was exhilarating to run and have this much fun at the same time! We wrapped the weekend up with a bunch of crafting, laughs, and drinks-- not necessarily in that order. We left KC with a few bruises, a few new nicknames, and a few great new memories.

Signing off! Winky One Eye

The Happiest 5K on the Planet

My 7th race was the Color Run in Atlanta, GA. I found this race while searching for unique races for my goal! I was intrigued by the awesome videos on thier site! Check them out!  http://thecolorrun.com/  I really dont know what could be more fun than running through a paint rainbow! I was planning a trip to see my best friend Renee for her baby shower in Atlanta and happened to notice that the dates coincided. I was hoping my friend would want to run with me, but at nine months pregnant she said no-- party pooper. So this would be my first race to run alone. I was nervous about running alone, even though I have done it plenty of times around town. I wasnt sure it would be the Happiest 5K on the Planet if you were all alone.
        Renee and I have been friends since we were 12 years old, when I first met her almost 20 years ago I was wearing a teal tube tob and tye dye overalls ( and no it really wasnt even in style back then).  Renee is one of my dearest friends. She is funny, kind, loyal and an amazing friend.She is the kind of friend that EVERY time you see them its like no time has passed at all and the moments you werent together just disappear. I have been blessed to have her in my life.  I lived in GA for only a few years, but we shared so many crucial growing up moments its hard to remember a time without her in it.  We hung out at the skating rink flirting with boys, we smoked ciggerettes in the trees behind our houses, we talked on the phone for hours on end, we peirced our own belly buttons,  we "paged" messages to each other( lets see how many of you even know what that is), we IMed each other on AOL,  she held my hair back on my 21st birthday so I wouldnt puke in it and THEN loaned me her toothbrush, she stood up with  me as I married my soulmate, she  has been there for nearly EVERY important moment in my life.  We have traveled thousands of miles to keep in touch over the years and a friendship like this is not one I take lightly.  Renee met and married Brian 6 years ago, I was worried that our relationship would fade, she had a new partner in crime now and things couldn't possibly be the same, BUT the opposite was actually true, she married her soulmate and I traveled 5126 miles to stand up and bear witness to thier love.  Brian is her perfect match and instead of losing my best friend, I gained another.  Brian agreed to drive me to my race and as long as baby Hunter didnt try to come early Renee was coming too! We left early in the AM, and drove to downtown Atlanta in Peidmont Park. I lined up with 15,000 other runners, by far my biggest race to date. There were so many people all wearing pure white, that it took me 15 minutes after the start time to actually cross the start line.  I ran for about 4 foot and then the crowd stopped, The Color Run is not a timed race and  four foot in I understood why. It took me almost an hour to "run" the 5K. It was small runs followed by lots of walking and even a good bit of standing still in line. It came to a screeching halt about 500 feet before each color paint was to be thrown at you. I guess thats what happens when you put 15,000 people who want to be painted  into one lane of Atlanta traffic. As soon as people were "painted" they decided it was time to run again until the next paint stop. I was getting annoyed. I wanted to run. It was visually striking, many times during the race I wished I had a camera. The crowd was happy and even as much waiting as we did, noone was crabby. They were all just enjoying the fun! At this point I am thinking I could have won this  race, if I would have been the first in line! Damn that pregnant woman for having to pee on the trip down. I could have won!!  We have only ever had one fight in all these years, but now that I am thinking I could have won this I may have to bring it up.  But that will have to wait till she is out of the hospital.

Tonight she is HAVING HER BABY!!!! I am so excited!  I am praying for a healthy baby and a safe delivery. I am thinking about your witty Indian doctor and his nipple stimulation instruction. I am smiling about laughing so hard that the tears wouldnt stop streaming down my cheeks and I almost peed my pants. I am thinking about the hours of phone calls describing your infertility treatments. I am thinking about the loss and pain and the crying when I couldnt hug you close when you were hurting. I remember your gaurded excitement. Tonight I am envisioning your healthy baby boy in your arms and you, and your husband staring down at Gods perfect miracle against your skin.  The moment you hold your child for the first time is breathtaking, and at that exact moment you realize how perfect life is and how nothing else mattered before this moment. Breathe it in.  Breathe through the pain becuase that pain will bring you happiness beyond measure. 

At the end of the race you open your color packet and throw it into the air and all you see is laughing, smiling, painted, sweaty faces everywhere. I couldnt help but be sucked into it all, it was like we all shared an experience and thats what makes us human. Its how we relate and empathize with each other that makes us understand each other, forgive each other, love each other.  I threw my blue paint into the air and all the other colors were flying around me and it was right then, right there it was  The Happiest 5K on the Planet.

What a colorful beautiful miraculous world we live in! Welcome to the World Baby Hunter!

Time For Celebration!

Today I am celebrating! Celebrating a life that is improving daily, celebrating a weight loss, celebrating old friends, celebrating new friends, celebrating commitment, celebrating breathing , celebrating love, celebrating endurance,  if my kids weren't sleeping soundly at this very moment, and if the neighbors wouldn't think I was a sexual deviant-- I would scream at the top of my lungs " I'M DOING IT!!! I'M DOING IT!!!  I'M HALF WAY THERE!" 

Today marks the spot, the exact half way in my journey to do 12 races in 12 months. My 6th race was the Fight for Air Stair Climb in downtown Des Moines. Individuals and teams climb 66 floors of 3 buildings in downtown Des Moines! We Climbed to the top of the EMC Insurance Companies, Hub Tower and the Des Moines Marriott Downtown.  One of the elements of this race was fundraising for the American Lung Association.  Each climber was required to fundraise $100 in order to participate the day of the race. I thought it would fun and easy to have a Zumbathon to raise money. My Dirty Skirt girls of course who think just like me thought it was a great idea too! And lucky us amongst our ranks we have an awesome Zumba instructor. Kerry was also instrumental in my early months of weight loss because she was one of the first people to show me that working out could be fun! I always thought people who "worked out" were just doing it out of obligation. It was only after doing Zumba three days a week that I discovered that moving your body could be addicting, possibly as equally addicting as chocolate cake or Doritos ( possibly). Ok who am I kidding? Junk food is way more addicting-- but working out is a close second and a positive addiction to boot. The Zumbathon was held at the YMCA in Boone. It was a great success and we fundraised over $500 between the bake sale and a great donation from the YMCA to our team! The Zumbathon was perfect! So many people came out to support the group effort and it was agreed that a good time was had by all! If you would like a good laugh please watch the video-- and note that I am THE ONLY one to mess up the routine that I in fact choreographed. I would like to tell you I did it on purpose to illustrate the fact that mistakes are ok, but the truth is I am a pretty lame dancer and running is much more fail proof. 

The day of the race we went to our lovely walmart meeting space and I arrived on time :) Well as on time as I get, I think I was 2 minutes late.  Everyone in the van had registered to run everyone was accounted for except for one person. Kathy. My friend Kathy was not in that mini-van full of moms chattering about potty training, husbands, and half marathons. Kathy was just 14 miles away lying in a hospital bed. 

Kathy has been my friend since the beginning of my fitness journey. She was with me when I couldn't run a block without walking.  She would cheer me in when I was many many minutes behind her, and offer me water when I would literally fall down at the "finish line" aka the corner of 8th and Carroll on the grassy field. Her adorable husband Nick would circle back and make sure every runner in boot camp wouldn't have to finish alone.  Kathy has been in every boot camp since then, every class, every race, until now.  The minivan doesn't seem quite right without her and everyone is thinking about her lying in a hospital bed wishing she was running up 1200 steps and fighting for air with the rest of us. Kathy however is now fighting for something altogether different. Kathy was diagnosed with breast cancer just a few weeks ago. I still cant think about it without crying. Kathy is young, fit, and healthy. She is too young to have cancer. She doesn't eat hydrogenated oils, hot dogs, or work with asbestos.  She pays her taxes, donates to charities, and never hits small children. And she may kill me for publishing this but Kathy FOLDS her underwear. I am 93% sure she does  97% of everything perfectly.
The news for our entire team was devastating. The day I called her I held my breath the entire time she spoke. She never wavered, she was confident, she was positive, she was forward moving, she was 97% perfect even in the face of cancer. I took a deep breath and I told her everything was going to be ok, and if she needed anything we would all be here for her. It was the only thing I could think to say. I was in shock.

This type of thing doesn't happen to young people. I hung up and  immediately did a self breast exam, and Charlotte in watching me squish my breasts all around started checking hers too. I smiled at her and cried again.  I never check my breasts. I lie at my yearly exams when they ask me "do you do regular self breast exams?" It seems stupid to look for something you have no idea what your searching for, but I guess its a bit stupider to lie about not doing it. My two year old climbs up in my lap and asks "Are you sad, mama? you crying? "  and I reply "Yes, Baby mamas sad."   Motherhood has been the most powerful gift I have ever received. My children have healed me in so many ways. They always know the right thing to say and do. Henry crawled into my bed four years ago, the day after I had a miscarriage, he held my face between his tiny hands and said "Its ok Mama-- God wasnt ready to give us our baby yet. God loves you mama. God will give us a baby." I pulled him close and breathed in him in and felt in that instant that everything was going to be ok.  Winston would tell me at my heaviest weight that he loved my "puffiness" aka FAT, and it "made you nice to sit on". Sitting in my apartment holding Charlotte while she wipes my tears with her barbie dress, it becomes very clear why my dear friend can be so positive. She has the exact same gifts likely sitting on her lap at the very same moment.  What other choice is there?

In true Dirty Skirts fashion we threw a party for her before her "big day". Kathy and I have a few things in common we both love to run ( even though I eat her dust), we both love pinterest, we both like to wear ladies undergarments as pirate eye patches. Please see exhibit B & C after Zumba fail  video below. ( Also note these images were taken 5 months apart)

Once we arrive downtown we run inside to a huge room milling with people. Our team got our chips, went to the bathroom at least 3 times, donned our Kathy tributes, and then lined up to start.  They start your time at the bottom of the stairwell and then stop it once you reach the top. You ride down in the elevator  and then do it all over again, and again! In true Sarah Moore fashion I started too fast. I always start too fast.  After about 4 flights I realize this when I can barely breathe. My lungs hurt-- I think they sprayed something in those stairwells to simulate lung problems. It was hard to catch your breath, its really not like running at all.  I finsihed in 16 minutes and 46 seconds. I am happy to report I was not LAST! When we finished we got mini sports evaluations/massages, medals, water, and a photo!! It was a very nice reception and a great crowd!  We finsished our race by eating at Zombie Burger in DM. I would highly reccommend going as long as you dont mind about 3000 calories in a single meal! We also made the Des Moines Register!!

I am happy to report that my friend is home and doing well and we expect her back on our running team before my 12 races are up! Dirty Skirts run but we dont run from a fight! We are all behind you emotionally as often as we are behind you in the races!! Which is always! :)

Today I am celebrating! Celebrating that I didnt finsish LAST!! Celebrating that I can breathe without pain!!  Celebrating healing!! Celebrating friendship!! Celebrating motherhood!! Celebrating LIFE!! What a beautiful, complicated, crazy, wonderful life! Praise the Lord! 

ZUMBATHON PROMO!

KATHY & I ARE THE SAME!

MY GIRLS IN THE DM REGISTER

Today I encourage you to check your breasts! Even if you don't think you will know what your looking for, even if it seems unlikely, even if it feels stupid.  I will never have to lie at my doctors office again thanks to Kathy.  Next October our Kathy is going to ROCK our breast cancer run and walk that survivor lap and the victory will be sweet. 

Better to be a Loser than a Quitter

              I always come home from my monthly races so excited to blog about it, ready to motivate people with my enthusiasm and experiences. I came home Sunday and napped. I couldn't think of anything motivating to say and the only reason I am blogging now is to admit defeat with dignity.  I lost the ICE BREAKER TRIATHLON.  I finished DEAD LAST. My heart sank when I scanned the numbers in the list tonight. Anyone who knows me, knows that I hate losing. When I lose it eats at my insides. In school I would cry when I got a  B. In college I wrote the cooperate office when I got a mediocre job review. As a woman I pout when I lose Monopoly for hours after the game is packed up and put away. When I think a customer is unhappy I think about it at night instead of sleeping.  I never let my kids win games, I never bend the rules, and I almost NEVER lose. Embarrassingly, I have even went so far on occasion to quit before I can lose so that I don't have to admit defeat.  Admitting defeat is the hardest pill to swallow.  I finished dead last, and to be brutally honest it sucks.
          When I was a little girl I remember looking in the mirror and being disappointed in my body. I remember pushing in on my stomach and imagining what it would look like a bit flatter. I remember sucking in my gut at 7 years old when people would look at me.  I remember when I was about 12 knowing that I was fat. I remember knowing that fat was one of the worst things you could be, because if you were fat it really didn't matter how smart you were, how funny you were, how kind you were, people would still always describe you first as fat. Of course they might not say the word fat, they might say "large, chubby, fluffy, bigger, chunky, puffy, round" all of which just mean fat. Don't get me wrong I was confident, I participated in theatre, I sang publicly, I spoke out in class I wasn't hiding. I just knew I was fat, it was a part of who I was and being fat meant people automatically thought you were lazy, slothful, selfish, and incapable-- at least it did in my own head.
         There are many times people look at me and say " I don't know how you do it all" The answer to that is complicated, but it goes back to the fact that in my family being "lazy" is one of the worst human offences.  One of the first memories of something my mother said to me was me telling her "I'm bored" like a lot of kids do when they want entertained. She would tell me over and over " A bored person is a selfish person, if you cant find anything to do, do something for someone else."  I think this one statement has formed the kind of woman I strive to be. I don't want to be considered lazy or selfish so I fill my life with challenges.  This is the first time in my life that those challenges have been physical, and the first time that I have never won and likely will never win any of these races and that part officially sucks.

        My race day started with a phone call, from my friend Steph who was waiting for me ready to drive to the race in the Walmart parking lot. I was asleep, dead asleep and from the first ring I knew I had overslept. I answered the phone with, "What time is it?!?" I panicked. Got off the phone, got my clothes on and ran out the door running 20 minutes behind. I was just hoping I remembered to bring everything so I wouldn't be swimming in my clothes or one of the weird suits from the YMCA lost and found. With today's luck I would end up with the size 2 thong bikini left behind from 1978 and would alienate the whole of Walnut Creek. Luckily I had my suit. We arrived with just a few minutes to spare. The swim was first and I finished in record time, even though the other lanes were all emptied out before ours I wasn't that concerned. I still finished at least 3 minutes faster than my usual time in the pool. After a slight mishap which ended with us walking into the men's locker room. We changed and went upstairs to the cycle room and here is where things started going downhill for me. My legs were exhausted, not just tired, literally in muscle failure shaking with every pedal.This had never happened before. I had to stand to get the pedals to move and by the second mile I started feeling defeated. At one point I felt my hands pushing my legs down to get the pedals to move. I finished 10 minutes after the other Dirty Skirts, and many many minutes after the other tri-athletes. I wanted to quit, I wanted to cry, I wanted to run. This was not fun. This wasn't empowering or liberating or motivating. This just made me feel like I was back in 9th grade gym class where everyone was looking at the chubby girl, and hoping she wasn't  going to end up on their team.   My only solace was in the faces of my skirted friends, the ones who have seen me at my highs and lows. The ones who knew how far I have come and where I want to go. These women are powerful, engaging, beautiful, and strong and everyday I am with them I feel better about everything and I wasnt going to let them down.  At mile 7 they are off the bikes and have become my focal point. I hear their voices in my head even when my eyes are closed pushing back tears more from defeat than the pain.  I still put on my "show face" the one I put on when a customer isn't happy with me, the one I put on when the seemingly perfect mothers make a comment about serving my kids processed foods,  the one I put on when someone says, " I wish I could dedicate so much time to working out" as if working out is taking away from other more important and neglected areas in my life.   I had my worst bike time ever-  longer by 9 full minutes. People from the next heat were done before me. 10 miles never felt so long. When I saw the treadmills( equipped with personal TVs-- this is a beautiful facility) I actually felt relief. I got on and I immediately felt at home. My legs weren't shaking anymore. It was like my muscles were thanking me for remembering what they actually know how to do. Run.  I started slow to make sure my legs wouldn't fall out from under me and finsihed strong. I hate running on a treadmill, but today I was grateful for it.  I finsihed the final leg of the race in my normal time frame. And when it was done, I felt like pouting.
                I pouted on the inside so no one would think I was a whiner.  One thing worse than being lazy is being a whiner. I actually got stabbed by a fork in the back of the hand for whining, but that's a whole other story better left for a day when I am not busy feeling sorry for myself. Then it hits me I AM WHINER! I am going against my own advice when I tell first time runners its not about winning. I am a hypocrite and that is NOT ok. So today If they gave medals mine would say "Last Place".  My original goal was to finish in less than an hour and thirty minutes and I DID by a lot. And that is GOOD!  There is only one thing worse than being a whiner and that's is being a quitter. And on Sunday, January 29th 2012  I was NOT a quitter.  I finished last. BUT I did finish.  I may not be there yet, but I am closer than I was yesterday and "still lapping everyone on the couch" So maybe I wasn't dead last after all, and maybe for today that's good enough. 

I am dedicating my first Triathalon to my Dad,  Jay Tallmon, who was and is one of most important influences in my life. He was the first man to call me beautiful, the first man I ever danced with, and the man who cried when he "gave me away".   He has shown me through his own actions that I can achieve physical success even without an atheltes body. He has always pushed himself to do better than his best, and he has NEVER ever quit anything he starts. I love you Daddy!

A man is not finished when he is defeated. He is finished when he quits.  - Nixon