Fables... the grasshopper and the tortiose

My first experiences with road races were in the late 1980s or early 90s, when my dad started running 5k races. Now that I do the math, he was a lot closer to my current age than I'd like to admit publicly (maybe than he'd like me to admit as well). Those early Saturday mornings at the Snug Harbor Kick-Off to Summer,  Seaway Run or Roosevelt Park Days 5k are bit hazy, but I do remember my mom calling the front of the pack "rabbits." You know, those guys who run 17, 16, 15-something minute 5k races. They may or may not be Tiggers (you know, us bouncy folk), but they are certainly the rabbits - out there, at the front, winning the race.

As you've probably guessed, I'm not a rabbit. At least not as a runner. I've claimed to have the pace of a geriatric dairy cow, and no one has ever challenged me on this. However, this image brought to mind one junior high summer spent at Muskegon Civic Theater's Summer Children's Theater. We were putting on a production of a number of Aesop's (and other) fables including "Belling the Cat," "The Lion and the Mouse," "The Milkmaid and her Pail," "The Ant and the Grasshopper," and of course, "The Tortoise and the Hare."  

With these and several other skits, the small cast each had several parts. Several decades later, I don't remember all my parts, but two skits and two roles stand out in particular. One is the tale of the Ant and Grasshopper. The Ant was industrious and worked hard all summer, setting aside food for the winter. He was very sure to remind the Grasshopper (yours truly) multiple times that she should do the same, or she would have nothing to eat and would suffer a most terrible fate. To which the Grasshopper replied "I'd rather SING!!!" and then proceeded to tap dance and sing arias, sparkling antennae bopping along . I've been a spotlight hog and dork since way back. Having danced and sang all summer, when the cold and snow finally arrives (it must have been April in Michigan), the Grasshopper begs the Ant to share his food. In an act of  charity, she is promptly turned down and has a fabulous death scene. I believe it was my first and only death scene to date.

The other skit that sticks me with me is the story of the Tortoise and the Hare. My friend Jason played the Tortoise and had a great turtle costume. He spent the entire five minute scene plodding along the stage singing: 

"You've got to keep on, keeping on. That's how it begins. You've got to keep on, keeping on. Slow and steady wins." 

Jason (probably) won't be offended if I say how ridiculously cheesy it was. But so AWESOME.

We all know the story. The hare teases him, runs circles around him and eventually burns out. The tortoise wins through perseverance and patience.  

In the world of running and work, there is much to be learned from the ant, the tortoise, and yes - even the grasshopper. Successful people work hard, set goals and make steady progress. They recognize the pitfalls of starting out quickly and flaming out too soon. They know that luck favors the prepared (ha ha) and strive to be prepared.

Those back-of-the-packers like me know that no amount of perseverance will cause us to win a marathon. I run 12 minute miles. No amount of training and "keeping on" will bring me to the finish line, 26.2 miles away, in 2:40. The Rabbits are the Rabbits because they have long legs, the right genetics, but also the preparation of the ant and the perseverance of the tortoise. They are not Hares. 

But in our quest to improve our 5k, 10k or half-marathon times, better ourselves and further our careers, let's not forget once in awhile to chuck it all, throw on the tap shoes, the sequined antennae and burst forth with "I'd rather SING!!!" 

If I find actual pictures from Summer Children's Theater, I will  post them!

Here comes the singing Grasshopper!!!

On standing still

The title of this blog post was from my failed post on the Boston Marathon bombing of last week - and how we can't hide ourselves away from the scary things in the world, how even though the world is not safe, it is important to continue to move forward, and that standing still gets us nowhere. Like I said on Facebook last week, I couldn't write a coherent post on Boston so I didn't - but the title remains.

I just keep looking at it: "On standing still" and think about how paralyzing fear is. How hypocritical it is for me to demand that the world get out and get running in the face of fear and danger and then cower beneath the covers of my own bed when I'm feeling uncertain. For you runners out there - do you map your run (.com?) before you set out, or do you just let your feet take you where they will? Have you ever turned a blind corner, knowing it may be a dead-end, a steep hill, or rocky terrain? If you *are* a mapper - like I am - what do you do when the route isn't as expected? I love knowing exactly what to expect, when to turn around, what my pace is and if I keep that pace up, just how soon I can be home for a snack and a potty break.

Obviously life is not a smoothly mapped run. Even a smoothly mapped run is not so smooth. Songs get stuck on repeat, you get a hot spot on your arch that turns into the cutest, more terrible heart-shaped blister, your thighs rub together until they look like you took a cheese grater to them, or you hit your favorite trail, only to discover it was washed out in a recent rainstorm.

I'm stuck and standing still right now. I feel like I can see the things I want but I don't know how to get there. The bridge is washed out, to use a worn out metaphor. Dang, I hate worn out metaphors. How about this one: (For some reason) I'm trying to get to Mordor and I can't find a way around this bog filled with the ghosts of the past?  So instead of pushing ahead, I'm hovering in the sidelines, feeling like I'm watching life happen around me - because it's easier and less scary than choosing the path less taken and having it make all the difference (badly).

Dude... We're trying to... WHERE?

Oh yeah, if you haven't figured out yet, my two biggest fears are failure and disappointing people. So it makes it paralyzing to make hard, scary choices. So now what? I guess I should run, keep running and try to clear my head a bit before the morning, because this is not a productive line of thinking.

Conquer your fears

Feel free to donate to my efforts: Marine Corps Marathon Fundraising for Epilepsy Therapy Project

Every hero has an origin story

Ok, I'll admit, the title is more a nod to my legions of nerdy readers (you know who you are), than me actually claiming to be a superhero. I have one limited super power and of the few people I've disclosed it to, only my roomie Heather believes me. See below for details.

But we do  know that the heroes in comic books, our modern day mythology, all have some sort of event that propels them to greatness. A radioactive spider. Childhood trauma and access to an incredible amount of technology and gadgetry. Radiation. Radiation. RADIATION. I'm mostly familiar with Marvel Comics and it seems like all of their heroes got their powers from some radioactive event. Anyways, that's neither here nor there.

The origins of my story as a runner with epilepsy are somewhat less dramatic - to the world of super heroes, at least. And I've never heard reports of it being *caused* by radiation. However it did start suddenly, on an evening in August 1998, shortly before I was set to go to college and during a very tumultuous time in my life. I spent the summer between high school and college not partying and at the beach (although a little beach), but working in an office furniture factory, handling sheet metal and using a turret punch press machine.Working second shift and 40+ hours was new to me and I was tired on my days off. That night, I planned to go to the movies with my best friend Aggie and her little brother and his friend. I laid down for a nap before they arrived.

 Fast Forward: lights, sirens, IV in my arm, 2 scared teenage boys on the front lawn, me completely disoriented. Apparently when I didn't answer the door, Aggie came in and found me in a seizure, called 9-1-1 and the show started. The funniest part was that as this was the summer of '98, it was during the Clinton impeachment hearings. When the EMTs where trying to orient me to space and time, they asked me who the president was. I answered "Bill Clinton... for now... I think." No one got the joke. I still chuckle about this and don't get why other people don't find me funny.  Also, for the next 15 years, whenever a doctor of EMT has asked my name, the date, or where I am after a seizure, I have gotten belligerent and demanded more time, cause I KNOW I KNOW, I just can't get the words out. Dang. Give a girl a break.

There was the usual confusion when someone has an unexplained medical episode, complicated by being in the awkward stage of not having a grown-up doctor, so needing to go to the pediatrician for a referral - and then having to wait to see one the few neurologists in the area, and getting advice like: don't ride your bike (when you've been told not to drive), don't take baths (WTF!!), basically have your parents watch you when you sleep (ok, that wasn't true, but it felt like it).

Essentially, having a first seizure at 18, with no cause like drugs, alcohol, head injury, other illness, throws everyone for a loop. Especially if you are supposed to move away from home in a few weeks. Things got more complicated eventually - but we were all hoping that it was a one time incident and I could be monitored on a low level of medication and be ok in a few months. Well, here we are and it's now been almost half my life. That day in August wasn't a blip, but rather the bite of the radioactive spider that eventually changes the course of your life forever.

Super power details: Clocks GAIN TIME around me. Legitimately gain time without human intervention. Even old digital clocks, which tend to get slower with age gradually creep faster and faster until they are 10 - 12 minutes fast and I have to reset them again. Heather believes me. Mike doesn't. The one co-worker I told doesn't. I doubt any of the rest of you do.  :) 

 

This is Spiderman running the Indy Marathon. Super heros rule RUN!

 

 

PS: I am very funny.



PPS: Feel free to donate to my Marine Corps Marathon Fundraising for the Epilepsy Therapy Project.

Luck Favors the Prepared... I'm a Two-Timer

On Friday night I picked up my last ever race packet that said on the outside: 32/F. Two days before my 33rd birthday and I was getting ready to run my second half-marathon. Oy. Being at the packet pick-up early was the most prepared thing about this race.

I decided to do the Hoosier Half sometime in December - I'm sure of it, because I registered on New Year's Eve, before the price went up. I was still being ridiculously lazy after the Grand Rapids Half-Marathon (October 21st), running a few miles, a few times a week, tops. I figured after the holidays, I would get things back together, get my running back on track, use the Hoosier Half as training for the upcoming 5/3 Riverbank 25k (in under 5 weeks, and 3+ miles longer than a half, if you're keeping track). However, between lingering hip pain that landed me in PT and delayed onset winter that made for a cold and snowy January and February, I found myself a nearly non-runner by March.

However cooler (??) heads prevailed and Kari insisted that "of course we're still doing it! We're going to Bloomington to celebrate your birthday!" Like me, Kari has only been running for a year as of this spring. Unlike me, Kari is a balls to the wall, crazy yoga chick who has her breath and lungs conquered. She joined a few running groups and kicked up the heat quickly - and slowed her pace to get me through my 8-miler in early March to prove I still had some distance in me. I leaned on my EcoTrek fitness crew for encouragement - especially since two of them were doing the race as well. I managed a 10-miler 2 weeks before the race, but never got in a longer run in due to the busy Easter weekend and never quite did as many hills as I wanted. Ugh... enough about my lack of training. No one wants to hear about that.

The weekend was AWESOME, race included. We got the beautiful spring weather we've been hoping for, and for once the only smart wool piece of running gear I had was my socks! Boyfriend Mike served as driver, ground support and Sherpa for the weekend, making the whole thing a lot less the stressful. I was able to introduce Mike and Kari to Bloomington and Indiana University, got to hit some of the old haunts and visit my friends Shawn and David from my post-grad school days.

The race was difficult, but other than a ski-slope hill at mile 9, the rolling hills mostly wore me down little by little, rather than killing me all at once! I made friends with a 70-year old guy, Casey who was running his 297th road race and works as a school crossing guard. :)  We chit-chatted through the last 5 miles and he was a big help during the last 3, which totally gassed me. I've never really made a running buddy during a race, so it was a great experience.

The best part of the entire race was the finish! Not the 1/4 mile hill at the end - yes it finished UP HILL - but seeing Mike, Kari, Brian and Kylie cheering me on and leading the sparse crowd in a loud rendition of "Happy Birthday." Thanks for waiting at the finish line.

I will never run a race this unprepared again. It took nearly 3 hours - but I did it, and was amply rewarded with a medal, a t-shirt and a wonderful weekend with friends.

In honor of my 13.1 miles or my 33rd birthday, please consider donating to my Marine Corps Marathon fundraising efforts for the Epilepsy Therapy Project

Fuel for the Journey

Initial blogs are always difficult to get started, and while I may be very open (to the point of oversharing) at times, there are parts of my life that I keep walled off. This blog will be the intersection of two significant parts of my life: one that I'm very open about (running), and one that I wrongly treat like a dirty little secret (epilepsy).

The idea for the blog was born out of my journey to complete the 2013 Marine Corps Marathon and raise $1500 for the Epilepsy Therapy Project - dedicated to overcoming the funding gaps and roadblocks that slow the progress of new therapies from the lab to the patient. Despite advances in medication and surgical therapy, over 3 million Americans still suffer from persistent seizures. Many tolerate serious, life-changing side effects as a price to pay for seizure control. I am not one of these people. I am a lucky person.

I am a lucky person because my juvenile myoclonic epilepsy is well-controlled through two newer generation drugs that don't cause such debilitating side effects. I go very, very long periods of time without seizures. I haven't suffered cognitive or mental effects due to medications - although they do make me sleepy, have caused headaches and have other side effects I need to monitor.

Perhaps that's enough about that for now. Epilepsy does not control my life. But it affects it every. single. day.

Please join me on my journey as I train for my first marathon, come out of the shadows as an adult living with epilepsy, and enjoy dancing through life and finding my inner awesome.



To donate to my fundraising efforts, please click this link: Jamie's ETP Marine Corps Marathon Fundraising Link