Remembering "a date which will live in infamy"

Seventy years ago on this day, more than 2,400 American men were killed and over 1,200 wounded in the surprise attack  on Pearl Harbor.  We've all read the history of that day that propelled us into the midst of the great World War, but the number of men who are still alive is fast dwindling.  According the the World War II museum website, the VA estimates that the WWII vets are dying at a rate of 740 a day. That's astounding to me.

On my drive in to work today, I was listening to a story about the gathering of vets at Pearl Harbor to commemorate the 70th anniversary.  I started to think about my grandfather who died this year and how, even though he told us many stories, I wish I had asked him more.  I wish I had written them down.  I wish I had recorded them on tape before his stroke. 

I've been writing about an oral history project for one of my graduate classes and listening to the interview has reminded me of the value that our older generation brings to our society.  I've always loved "old people", probably because I had the good fortune of having close relationships with all 4 of my grandparents until they began to die in my early 30's.  I wish I had them now as I grow older to recount their history and experiences .  They were all 40 before and I think their insights would make my road less rocky.  It's too bad we don't often fully realize when we're in our 20's the value older generations bring to us.

The interview I've studied is with a prominent woman from our region who did great things in her lifetime.   Fortunately, her story was recorded many times through various oral history projects before she died at age 93.  Our region is richer because we have her personal narratives archived for future generations to use to learn about life here in decades past.  I thought about the Pearl Harbor vets this morning and that most of them have to be around 90 years old.  Soon, they will die and take it all with them.  I know our country has done a good job of documenting the memories and remembering the sacrifices, but the real, live men will be gone soon. I think that's a travesty. 

Choo choo

You know that commercial that says “Life comes at your fast”? That’s exactly how I feel most of the time, but not for the same silly reasons that the commercial implies. It seems that my life is filled with monumental decisions that require quick judgment, with the permanent effects hanging over me like cumulonimbus clouds. Sometimes I wonder why I’m not strung out on drugs of alcohol or have an ulcer the size of Montana. What keeps me sane in the enormity of the choices I have to make in my life? What leads me to hover on the uphill side of the slope of insanity instead of slipping into it?

I wish I could offer some profound words about the thankfulness I feel or how the beauty of the sunrise brings an abundance of light into my life. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful for a lot of things and have the ability to look on the bright side of a situation. I like reading those kinds of words that credible people write, but sometimes I stop and say to myself, “Really? Who the hell are you kidding? No one can find inspiration at every turn.” Or can they? Maybe I’m missing something.

I think I have a few things going for me. My ability to empathize (when I want to), the intrinsic compassion I feel for people, my competitiveness, which drives me toward my goals with a “force to be reckoned with”. But sometimes I wonder if those things are enough. The insecurities bang on the doors to my brain and heart and demand to conduct this train that seems to be barreling down the tracks at light speed. Can I keep it from wrecking?

It’s funny how someone I’ve known my entire life can look at me and say, “You have everything going for you.” What we project on the outside isn’t usually what we feel on the inside. In some ways, it’s comforting to know I don’t look as out of control as I feel. I don’t have any answers, but I do believe this: time and patience ultimately lead us to the right place. It’s important to try to make the right choices and consider every consequence of our actions, but sometimes we just have to let go and get into the caboose, trusting that the train will get to the station.

What a Difference 2 Weeks Can Make...

To catch up, I’ve actually had a great 2 ½ weeks of running. My weekday runs are fast and enjoyable once I’m out there. The last 2 long runs, 15 and 16 miles, were challenging at the end, but I felt pretty good throughout. I attribute some of it to the Gu. I never realized how important it is to take in those calories. Of course I’ve done it many times, but it’s been awhile since my mileage has been high enough to require it. I'm also convinced that the lower humidity has been really helpful. It was even a little chilly yesterday morning.

The lack of soreness in my legs is shocking. What’s up with that? Could it be that I’ve started taking a multi-vitamin religiously? I think that’s the only thing I’m doing differently. Not that it doesn't feel heavenly to have someone rub them, but they aren't achy like they have been the last few weeks. The human body is amazing.

I can’t believe there are only 9 weeks left. Where has the summer gone? The big 20 and 22 milers are looming, but I feel confident that I can make it through. I’m still not convinced I can make the 3:45 that I need to qualify, but I’m going to try. I’m still just pumped about having an excuse to visit Chicago!

The last 2 weeks have been better for me with regard to the relationships with my friends. I think I had prolonged PMS in July-no joke. I was overly sensitive and defensive with everyone. It was probably a combination of stresses that have now taken a different shape and are more manageable. RS reminded me how important it is to keep my mental focus on my goal. She said that she totally believes that I can do it physically. To paraphrase, I just have to get my head right. Her list of positive influences and situations in my life brought me back to one of the reasons I decided to commit to this marathon. My relationships with my close friends are so important to me. Right or wrong, I need that feedback and validation from people who care about me and I need to give them what I have to offer. I've resigned myself to it. That's how I'm wired. The downside is that I think the intensity with which I feel that need, is unique. I have to accept that people will always disappoint-not intentionally, but it happens. Even so, I can't stop flood of emotion I have for the friends that I love. *sigh* Life lessons...

I was thinking...

Have you ever physically missed someone? I mean missed their physical being? How many times do you pay attention to the true feeling of hugging someone you love? I think most people take it for granted with a quick arms-entangled short embrace or just a one-armed obligatory hug. How does it make you feel to have their arms around wrapped around your body, your chests pressed together so that you can almost feel each other’s heart beating and to breathe in their scent as you put your head beside theirs? It’s the kind of embrace with someone you love that makes everything in the world just right for that few seconds. I miss someone like that a lot.

But that got me thinking about how I hug other people that I love like my mom and dad or my kids. I hug them, but most of the time, it’s mindless and I don’t really feel them. My mind is usually on to something else as we embrace. I’m setting a goal for myself to feel the physicality of and the emotion I have for each person I hug. It means so much to me to feel that with the person I miss. I know I take for granted that the rest of the loved ones in my life will always be here for me to hug. Not that I’m a huge spiritual person, but I think there is a positive flow of energy that comes from feeling each other and appreciating that they are in front of me, even just for a few seconds. Who can't use a little good ju-ju?

Words to live by...

This past week of training has been a little challenging. It’s only week three and the mileage hasn’t been difficult, but my allergies have been killing me! It’s hard to run when you can’t breathe. I’m also really concerned about my pace. The mapping site my running partners and I use most, www.mapmyrun.com and the pace calculator seem to be a little off. According to the site, I’m consistently running an 8:15-8:20 pace. That can’t be right, because my breathing would be much more labored in the distances I’m covering. I have to get this sorted out or I’ll have a big shock and disappointment on October 12^th.

Physically, my very minor plantar fasciitis and my knee pain, which I’m self-diagnosing as my medial collateral ligament (MCL) strain, aren’t debilitating yet. I know they’re both something I need to pay close attention to when I wake up in the morning and they both ache before I’ve even gotten out of the bed. My pain preventions steps:

§ I got shiny new shoes for my birthday (thanks JC!)-Asics Gel Nimbus 9.

§ I’m trying to ice my knee 1-2 times a day.

§ I take NSAIDs to keep the inflammation at bay.

§ I’m working on further strengthening of my quads with 45˚ light leg extensions.

§ I’m trying not to wear flip flops every day.

I’m know I need to be smarter with my body in training for this marathon because I’ve experienced the pain that comes from abuse and ignoring the warning signs and it ain’t pretty.

Emotionally, I’ve had a much better week. Last week, I was an emotional basket case. Everything that is going on in my life (or isn’t) hit me like a ton of bricks. I think I’m going to chalk it up to hormones, because I was so out of control inside. Very unlike me. Thank God for my ability and love of running. Sometimes I think it’s the only thing that keeps me moving forward. The opportunity to put everything behind me and concentrate on my foot falls, breathing and enjoyment of being outdoors is incomparable. As Dr. George Sheehan says, “Running becomes and addiction that has positive rather than negative effects.” Amen, brother.

Being alone with music while I’m tackling the hills and covering the distance has a significant impact on me too. For some reason, I’m addicted to lyrics and try to use them to fit my mood at that moment. Two lines from Edie Brickell (did you know she’s married to Paul Simon?) were worth noting this week:

“…don't look back, look up and then look around”

“I know that when I get back on my feet I will walk away from misery.” Or , more appropriately for me, run.

This week’s words to live by.