The Hidden Me

Anais Nin.

I've sort of loved her for a long time...really, since I remember becoming a woman.

And while she has many, this is one of my favorite quotes.

“There were always in me, two women at least, one woman desperate and bewildered, who felt she was drowning and another who would leap into a scene, as upon a stage, conceal her true emotions because they were weaknesses, helplessness, despair, and present to the world only a smile, an eagerness, curiosity, enthusiasm, interest.”


Her direct wit and instant access to all that is vulnerable, real, sensual and true resonates abundantly with me, especially this morning....


At the end of my daughter Claire's ballet class, I high tailed it to the library to spend some time with my three-year old reading and wrangling puzzles.

After too much coffee, I made a quick pit stop in the restroom. I was in the stall getting ready to do my thing, when I heard a voice say, "I love that you run every morning.  It's inspiring."


Um, thank you, I said with no idea who was talking to me.  And then, because I suck at accepting a compliment, I blurted out, "Don't be impressed.  Mostly, it's a lot of huffing and puffing.  But the early morning seems to be the only time that I can make it work in my life."


Eager to pee, but unsure if she'd retort back, I waited.


"Your blog is cool too.  It's nice to know that someone else is just trying to get by."


"Oh, wow.  Thanks."  And then, because I couldn't take the anonymous identity any longer, I peed like a race horse and rushed out.


It was a friend that I hadn't seen in many moons who was at the library with her kids as well.  We're friends on Facebook, but she rarely posts and so, I had forgotten that she sees my daily status updates and blog.


Washing our hands, she said, "Really, keep running and writing. It gives me the kick I need to get out the door."


And that was it.  She was gone back to her littles and I was stunned.  What I wanted to say to her was, I'm a fraud.  I run slow and I write because I can't help myself...most of it is gibberish at best.  No need to be inspired by me.

Then, I harkened back to Anais Nin.  So much of who we are is wrapped in all of the things that we're not.  We present a smiling face to the people who cross our path, but hidden deep inside lives fear, anxiety, wounds, disappointments, misgivings, bewilderment.


And I suppose the goal is to let go of that which we think we are not and trust in what we know to be true to make the most of this life we've been given.  We're all here for a reason.  Our path has a chartered course.  No one else can leave the unique foot print that is all our own to share.  It is up to us to honor the parts of the woman that are filled with despair and hopelessness while at the same time choosing to greet the opportunity of a new day with hope and possibility. 

Inside of us lives many people...there's no doubt about that.  The question is who will you choose to share with the world?

Making Facebook Come Alive

It's funny how the beauty and the creepy part of social media is that you can be "friends" with people on Facebook or follow others on Twitter, Pinterest, Instagram or Tumblr and potentially never see them in real life or see them very rarely in the flesh.

And so it is that I find myself "friends" with many people (900 or so) who are mutual friends of my childhood, highschool, undergrad, graduate school, professional working days, volunteer organizations, parish extensions, social justice missions or political interest groups. 

I don't find it particularly odd that we've never met or may never meet.  Most of us are in similar life stations...married/committed to partners, parents, middle-aged, runners, writers, crazies just trying to make it through life. 

I like looking at pictures of their family, following their adventures and I'm thankful when they support me through mine.

And so, it wasn't odd, but a bit surreal, when upon arriving at the park with my kiddos this morning, I saw in person for the first time, a Facebook friend I've never met other than online.  I've long been a fan of his.  He and his beautiful wife are parenting I think it's 7 kiddos...oh no, I can't remember now, I just know that they took up the entire row of swings at the park and he was single-handedly pushing them all through the air.

He posts hysterical antics that happen around their home and different than me, seems to roll with it all like it's nothin but a thang.  In fact, while we were chatting it up, one of his little guys took a tumble off the swing, only to get up and have another swing clock him in the face.  Instead of yelling, screaming, and freaking out (my modus operandi), he simply reached down, picked up his hysterical little one and made him feel better. Such a cool dad.

Often, people lament about all of the bad things about Facebook...the ways in which it's taking our identity and using it to rule the world...why it reformatted its functions to make our lives miserable yet again...why it seemingly works fine on our laptops, but sucks on our mobile devices...

For me, a stay-at-home mama of three little crazies, it makes me feel connected.  It lets me know that other people are just trying to do the best that they can do too.  It gives me notice when someone has something to celebrate or needs a note because something tragic has come across their path.

Because of our busy schedules, it's unlikely that this Facebook friend and I will cross paths again...but it was good to see the virtual world of Facebook meet the physical world of my community park and to know that we're all just livin the dream...giving one kids' boo boo a hug at a time.

The Gift of a Marathon Moments Before a 39th Birthday

Today is my birthday.  I turned 39.

But right before this day, two days ago to be exact, I ran my first marathon and it was, well, outside of my wedding and the births of my three children, probably one of the single best experiences of my life.

This is me as I was getting in line to run the big race...

If you follow my blog, you know that I was petrified out of my mind to run a marathon.  Scared that I wouldn't be able to endure for 26.2 miles.  Afraid that I would let my friends and family down...those who had been supportive for so long.  Anxious about the pieces I had struggled with in my training, namely nutrition and the fact that the longest run is 20 miles...how would I do the other 6.2?

So, I decided to run with a pace group at a pace that I thought I could manage.  My goal was simply to finish and to cross the finish line with joy in my heart and peace in my soul.  I didn't want to hate the experience.  Secretly, I wanted to want to do it again.

And just like that after four and a half months of preparation, I lucked out in every way imaginable.  God truly blessed me beyond measure.  It was a Chamber of Commerce weather day...beautifully sunshiny with a high of 70-degrees.  My pacers were my age, with children of their own, who told funny jokes like...."Would you rather cross the finish line naked or start the race having pooped your pants?"  And then, as luck would have it, my group was just me and another super nice man, so we were taken care of the whole time.  Below is a picture of me and my pacer,  Liz (an incredible machine of positivity and encouragement) rocking it at mile 18...

So many friends and family came out to cheer me on.  It brought tears to my eyes.  They held signs, they high-fived me, they screamed my name, they sang, they danced, they took pictures with me and my 6-year old daughter Kate even ran with me.  It was so awesome to turn the corner and see someone there who loved me.

And then, just like that I found myself at mile 22. I had yet to hit a wall.  My nutrition was doing it's job.  My body was achy, but definitely not fatigued.  Crazily, I always run with music...like cranked up, ridiculously loud music, and I never once listened to my headphones the entire time.  I've never had a running partner or attempted to talk to anyone while I am huffing and puffing...this time, I talked the whole time and for a good chunk of it, it was just me and Liz.

 I just felt really good and couldn't stop giving fellow runners a big thumbs up!

And then it happened, I hit mile 25 and Liz said, "If you feel good, take off."  And so I did.  I ran the last 1.2 miles by myself into the University of Nebraska at Lincoln's stadium, waved and smiled to my family and friends and crossed the finish line.

I thought I would cry, but I couldn't stop beaming.  I never thought I would be so happy.

And what I realized is that this race was never mine alone.  I was never on a solo mission.  My husband, my children, my friends, my family were always there praying for me, loving me, believing in me, hoping for me, rooting that I could do it.

My favorite sign said, "Dreams aren't for free...go get yours!"  And that's what I did...that's really what we all do.  At some point, we decide how badly that we want it.  And if you want it more than you can imagine not having it, you will put the time, the effort, the blood, the hurt, the fear, the hope into it.  And at the end of it all, you will be better.  You will be changed.  You will be transformed.  Because dreams are for the taking.  I'm so happy that on this day, at this time, in this 39th year, this bucket list dream is mine. 

Rocking the Chicago Half Marathon with a Grateful Heart

I don't even know where to begin.

Four months ago, immediately after completing my first half marathon, I felt over-the-moon about the accomplishment and anxious wondering what was on the horizon.

I impulsively registered two days later to run the Chicago Half Marathon.  I assumed that one of my runner friends would join me and that we'd have a wild and crazy time taking the windy city on.

One by one, something came up for everyone and I soon discovered that if I really wanted to do this, I'd be going alone.

Scared and deflated, I told my husband that it probably wasn't meant to be and that I should just write off the registration costs.

And then, out of the wood work...one by one...my friends emerged and made my trip a reality.

One friend (and I'm crying at O'Hare airport as I write this) offered up her family member's condo in a fantastic neighborhood.  Knowing that I was petrified to take public transportation, she mapped out my itinerary and gave me step by step directions and emergency contacts of all of her friends in the city.

The condo was steps away from Wrigley Field and both nights, I heard Springsteen singing to a packed stadium and felt like I was at the concert without paying a dime.

College friends that I haven't seen in over a decade, called, wrote, and insisted that we get together.  One by one, they traveled to me, took me to fabulous restaurants, listened to me talk about my family, my running journey, and gave me heart felt encouragement, hugs, laughter and tears as I prepared.

My husband graciously took time off of work and planned fun activities for he and our three kids to do while I was away...and then tucked a note into my shoe letting me know that I was an amazing woman.

My family and very dear friends sent me text messages, letters, emails, cards, and notes all reminding me of why I was going and letting me know that I was already a winner.

And now, I'm moments away from flying home and all I can remember is this:

• Waking up to a 68 degree day
• Running along a breathtaking lake front with sunshine sparkling off the water
• Feeling a body that was strong, steady, and trained
• Having a heart filled with joy while bands played and people cheered
• Eyes that wanted to cry, but an ear-to-ear smile that wouldn't let them
• Feet that never stopped running and never let me down
• A watch that showed me a time I've never seen before...how did I run that fast?
• And a belief that I was meant to be in Chicago on this day doing this by myself

There is no question that I am a changed person.  I am inspired.  I am motivated.  I am passionate.  And I am extraordinarily grateful.  There are no words to express that throughout all of this process, I was never alone.  This journey was a collective effort.  I just got to selfishly wear the medal at the end.

If I thanked God, my family, friends, and Chicago daily...it would not be enough.