"Everyday is a good day when you run."
-Kevin Nelson
 |
| #nationalrunningday |
What Did You Fail at Today?
For most children, dinner table conversations include questions like, "How was your day? What went well today for you?" But for Sarah Blakely, the founder of Spanx, she was asked a much different question each night by her father at the kitchen table-
"What did you fail at today?"
She recalls, "If there was nothing, he'd be disappointed. I think failure is nothing more than life's way of nudging you that you are off course. My attitude to failure is not attached to outcome, but in not trying. It is liberating. Most people attach failure to something not working out or how people perceive you. This way, it is about answering to yourself. Failure was something we sought out and not this scary thing."
I've recently adopted this notion of the 'Blakely kitchen table' in my own life and started asking myself that question each night, "What did I fail at today?' You may think that this question could lead someone down the hole into depression and straight to Loserville, but I am finding that the exact opposite happens. In a sense, it is actually making me more fearless, urging me to constantly stretch myself in all areas of life. So often it is easy to remain comfortable and to continue doing the things we are good at, right? But contemplating what I 'failed' at means that I need to try more things.
Doing post-work pool work.
In the pool, I can comfortably swim 10 x 100 yards on the 1:30 interval. I've been able to hold this interval (uncomfortably at times), but for the most part, since college. Tonight, I decided to try and speed it up a bit, aiming for 10 x100 yds on the 1:25 interval. I made it to the 6th 100 until my lungs felt like they were going to explode and I hit the wall right when I was supposed to leave for the next interval. Did I feel like a failure? Not at all! Today, it wasn't about 'failing' to swim 10 x 100 yds on the 1:25, but learning that I had the speed and strength to swim 5 of them at that pace; something that I would have never even attempted in the past. Sarah Blakely's father was brilliant.
I am allowing this question to permeate my life not only in sport, but also in the kitchen, in my relationships, and in my career. And so far, I've found that it has only been positive, spurring me on to stretch and try new things, without judgement or criticism. Allow yourself to have the imaginative freedom to envision what you want to create in your life, without the inhibiting fear that most people have of the fear of failure.
Trying new things in the kitchen…I took a chance and didn't measure anything. Thankfully, these sweet potato energy balls turned out well!
I prefer a different set of wheels, but hey, I tried!
Sometimes, it all boils down to reframing and rethinking the notion of failure. If you want to change your life, change the question-
"What did you fail at today?"
Just what I was looking for. #change #SantaCruz
Get ready to be liberated. Get ready to be amazed.
Nozomi.
My dad just returned from a trip to Japan. He brought me back a souvenir, and at first I was expecting some fun Japanese candy or treats. So imagine my surprise when I opened up the bag and saw a beautiful necklace pendant that resembled some of his ceramic pieces. It was packaged with a card that read "Nozomi Project."
Nozomi, translated 'hope' in Japanese, is a social enterprise bringing hope to women adversely affected by the 2011 earthquake and tsunami in Ishinomaki, Japan. Nozomi women create one-of-a-kind pieces of jewelry using broken pottery left in the wake of the tsunami. As broken shards are being transformed into beautiful treasures, lives are also being filled with renewed beauty. The Nozomi Project symbolizes "Beauty from Brokenness."
Today, looking at the beautiful pendant made from broken pottery, it symbolized a greater lesson of restoration from brokenness.
I still remember those days like they were yesterday. I would sleep, wake up from the nightmare, realize the nightmare was my life, and then try to go back to sleep. I robotically created 'To Do' lists filled with meaningless tasks, just to give myself some structure in my life. I numbly re-arranged the items that would have filled a brand new house into my old childhood bedroom. I was so angry and confused- little did I know that this entire season of my life was teaching me a lesson in humility that could only be experienced with raw and absolute brokenness.
It was 2006, and I remember sitting in the uncomfortable wooden pew. I felt oddly out of place, even though it was the familiar sanctuary of my youth, with its familiar smells and carpet where I had grown up. Feeling like an outsider, I watched the man on stage give an object lesson at the front of the church. Most knew him as a comedian who also was a master ceramicist- I just knew him as Dad. He had his potter's wheel and lump of clay, and we all marveled at the way he could effortlessly transform the ball of gray matter into a beautiful vase. It was like magic.
And then, he said something that I'll never forget- "If the clay starts to get shaky or uneven, it can crumble down and fall into itself. But as the potter, you simply re-work it and re-shape it- you don't just throw the clay away." I saw him look up and I felt like he was looking at me directly in the eyes. Tears streamed down my face. This was more than a simple object lesson, this was a divine message from a Father to a daughter.
It was at that moment that I recognized and experienced hope. We were not meant to live as broken shards, shattered pieces of beauty that "once was." We can be picked up from the rubble, dusted off and polished until we shine- Beauty from ashes.
There are times in our lives that will break us, shattering our spirits and our dreams. While the world may tell us that we should stay in the dirt, shrouded from sunlight and buried under the rubble, this is simply not our destiny. Remember that true beauty often comes from brokenness. Sometimes simple souvenirs and unconditional love from a father can remind us of a greater Truth:
There is always hope, there is always nozomi.
 |
| A small but powerful object lesson. |
Today, looking at the beautiful pendant made from broken pottery, it symbolized a greater lesson of restoration from brokenness.
I still remember those days like they were yesterday. I would sleep, wake up from the nightmare, realize the nightmare was my life, and then try to go back to sleep. I robotically created 'To Do' lists filled with meaningless tasks, just to give myself some structure in my life. I numbly re-arranged the items that would have filled a brand new house into my old childhood bedroom. I was so angry and confused- little did I know that this entire season of my life was teaching me a lesson in humility that could only be experienced with raw and absolute brokenness.
It was 2006, and I remember sitting in the uncomfortable wooden pew. I felt oddly out of place, even though it was the familiar sanctuary of my youth, with its familiar smells and carpet where I had grown up. Feeling like an outsider, I watched the man on stage give an object lesson at the front of the church. Most knew him as a comedian who also was a master ceramicist- I just knew him as Dad. He had his potter's wheel and lump of clay, and we all marveled at the way he could effortlessly transform the ball of gray matter into a beautiful vase. It was like magic.
And then, he said something that I'll never forget- "If the clay starts to get shaky or uneven, it can crumble down and fall into itself. But as the potter, you simply re-work it and re-shape it- you don't just throw the clay away." I saw him look up and I felt like he was looking at me directly in the eyes. Tears streamed down my face. This was more than a simple object lesson, this was a divine message from a Father to a daughter.
It was at that moment that I recognized and experienced hope. We were not meant to live as broken shards, shattered pieces of beauty that "once was." We can be picked up from the rubble, dusted off and polished until we shine- Beauty from ashes.
There are times in our lives that will break us, shattering our spirits and our dreams. While the world may tell us that we should stay in the dirt, shrouded from sunlight and buried under the rubble, this is simply not our destiny. Remember that true beauty often comes from brokenness. Sometimes simple souvenirs and unconditional love from a father can remind us of a greater Truth:
There is always hope, there is always nozomi.
Five Kernels of Corn.
This past Thanksgiving, we all sat down to this...
I listened to my mom as she shared the story of the pilgrims- it had literally been years since it's been told to me. Usually we are so busy filling our bellies with sweet potatoes and turkey and stuffing- such a stark contrast to staring down at a plate with five lonely kernels of corn.
The first winter for the Pilgrims, the food shortage was so severe that each person was given a ration of five kernels of corn per day. The next spring, the Pilgrims planted the remaining corn, and that fall, they had an abundant harvest of crops. Every Thanksgiving thereafter, they placed five kernels of corn next to their plates to remind them of their blessings.
The first kernel reminded them of autumn beauty.
The second kernel reminded them of their love for each other.
The third kernel reminded them of their family's love.
The fourth kernel reminded them of their friends.
The fifth kernel reminded them of their freedom.
This was such a powerful object lesson for me. Daily, I am making an effort to be more grateful, more aware, more awake- and to recognize and appreciate the kernels in my own life. Especially in this season where everyone is inundated with purchasing, buying, wrapping and consuming- it becomes so easy to gloss over these fundamental truths of what truly fuels our fulfillment and happiness in life.
And it's funny, because all of these five blessings are free. They do not have a price tag. Yet they are priceless.
Five kernels of corn. Have you counted your blessings lately?
 |
| Five kernels of corn. |
The first winter for the Pilgrims, the food shortage was so severe that each person was given a ration of five kernels of corn per day. The next spring, the Pilgrims planted the remaining corn, and that fall, they had an abundant harvest of crops. Every Thanksgiving thereafter, they placed five kernels of corn next to their plates to remind them of their blessings.
The first kernel reminded them of autumn beauty.
The second kernel reminded them of their love for each other.
The third kernel reminded them of their family's love.
The fourth kernel reminded them of their friends.
The fifth kernel reminded them of their freedom.
This was such a powerful object lesson for me. Daily, I am making an effort to be more grateful, more aware, more awake- and to recognize and appreciate the kernels in my own life. Especially in this season where everyone is inundated with purchasing, buying, wrapping and consuming- it becomes so easy to gloss over these fundamental truths of what truly fuels our fulfillment and happiness in life.
And it's funny, because all of these five blessings are free. They do not have a price tag. Yet they are priceless.
 |
| My first kernel- autumn beauty on the trails... |
 |
| My fifth kernel- freedom from running pain. |
Five kernels of corn. Have you counted your blessings lately?
The Beauty in Crashing.
Of all the days in the year, I think today probably was the best day for me to crash my bike. It seems that I always learn my lessons best in the most tangible ways. So today, this is really what I needed for my heart and my head (not so much for my body or bike). So I am counting it as a blessing.
The calm before the storm.
84 miles in, on an out-and-back coast ride from Santa Cruz to Half Moon Bay, a sudden sketchy span of curvy railroad tracks left me sprawled out in the road, my leg open and bleeding, with my bike strewn across the tracks. I know that you should always approach railroad tracks perpendicular.
In most cases, they naturally run perpendicular to the bike lane, not curvy-parallel. It caught me completely off-guard. But aside from the physical shock of hitting the ground, nothing was broken, the bike was fine, my brand new Betty Designs kit was not torn (big sigh of relief)...
The remaining 10 miles were rough, but I survived. My left wrist felt sprained and my leg was stiff, but it was good for me to immediately get back on and spin.
I told myself,"Get over the fear. You're ok."
Surprisingly, I was still able to enjoy the coastal view for the remainder of the ride, and to know that yes, this sport is risky, but with those risks come incredible rewards.
This view beats the stationary bike, that's for sure...
Sitting on the couch could be deemed safer (you don't need to wear a Road ID to change the channel), but I would miss out on the sights of the waves crashing against the rocks, hearing the calls of the seagulls, and feeling the wind upon my face. Being vulnerable and open to new experiences has its risks always- but when you are in that space, it reminds you that you are a living, breathing, feeling being. And there is exquisite beauty when you have the courage to venture and stay in that space.
How sad if we allow the pain and scars from our past crashes to keep us locked in a cellar of fear, numbing us completely from the outside world?
Today was a perfectly timed tangible reminder that sometimes we are lucky in life to coast effortlessly. And sometimes we suddenly and unexplainably crash. And even if we don't know exactly what took us down, or how we got down- we just know it hurts a bit in places, but really, we're ok. In the appropriate context, vulnerability is a good thing. How much safer and easier it would be to never risk, to never fear rejection, to never really open up to love again- But wouldn't life feel shallow and superficial if you always played it safe?
Thankfully, the stiffness and scars eventually fade. You get back on the bike. Because there are countless beautiful roads yet to be explored. And there are beautiful people still waiting out there to explore them with you.
Race Day Magic.
Three days after my Lake Del Valle open water swim, I was flat on my back feeling like all the energy had been sucked out of me. My nose was running, I was coughing, and I had the worst headache. I slept for almost 2 days straight and was convinced that I had some strange microbial infection from the lake that would eventually kill me. A 'real' doctor told me I had sinusitis. And to stop freaking out.
The thought of having to navigate again in the open water swim just one week after I had recovered from this bout of feeling-like-crapitis made me nervous. Granted it wasn't Shady Cliffs, but still...
Some races, things just all come together- I can't really explain it- so I just call it "race day magic." The day before, I had an awesome pre-race lunch (eating fresh fish somehow always channels my inner fast fishy). I got my good luck pre-race hug. And pep talk. Which really wasn't a pep talk, but it felt like tradition. And it made me happy.
Having most of my GL Coaching teammates also participating made it so much fun. On the drive over, I opened a super sweet card from Wolfie that made my day and inspired me to swim fast. According to the Gary Chapman's book The Five Love Languages, Words of Affirmation is my primary 'language.' So encouraging emails and cards and pep talks are all positive forces that act as huge motivators. It was perfect timing. And Hulk (aka the mailman) didn't get in trouble because he remembered to deliver it on time!
Coach said the 2.4 mile swim was just "time practicing in the open water." I'm not sure if he tells us that to keep us calm and relaxed, but secretly, I think this is what he really means-
Aside from the fact that the anti-fog Spitz was burning my eyeballs within the first loop (Iesson learned for IMLT- rinse them out!) and the fact that my half-a$$ Body Glide application had left my wetsuit chafing my neck with every stroke, I felt good. It seemed like I was swimming all alone- I couldn't see anyone else around me. After the first buoy turn, I looked up and saw another human being! And it was Hulk! I let out a shriek of joy, partly because I wasn't lost alone in the middle of Chesbro Reservoir, and because Hulk=fast feet. I hopped on his feet for a few seconds and then noticed they were doing a hard kick of BACKSTROKE. I lifted my head up and we both started laughing. Then, we got to work and did what we do best- we swam together and it was good enough for a 5th/6th place overall.
I was really surprised with my results- I was the 1st woman in my AG, and even more cool- 1st overall woman in the 2.4 mile wetsuit division!
I can only say that it is because of unique coaching I've been receiving, and for all those early mornings with Hulk and Wolfie beside me in the pool, encouraging and pushing me to swim 'my fast.' We all need each other, and our individual wins are really a reflection of the group's wins.
Turns out, GL Coaching's group is full of fast fishes who also placed really well!
I have memories of the last time I did the 2.4 mile Catfish Crawl. This year's theme all around seems to be re-writing the past and moving forward with an improved technique and mentality- which is translating into better race results. I love the coaching I'm receiving. I love my inspiring teammates. And I've always loved the open water.
But I'm still taking Mucinex, just in case.
 |
| Mom saves the day with homemade chicken soup, garlic bread, an orchid, and Mucinex-D. |
 |
| Another friend brought over organic lemons (he knows I'm a snob). With tea. And chocolate. And cookies. I think all this worked more than the Mucinex-D, in my humble opinion. |
Some races, things just all come together- I can't really explain it- so I just call it "race day magic." The day before, I had an awesome pre-race lunch (eating fresh fish somehow always channels my inner fast fishy). I got my good luck pre-race hug. And pep talk. Which really wasn't a pep talk, but it felt like tradition. And it made me happy.
Having most of my GL Coaching teammates also participating made it so much fun. On the drive over, I opened a super sweet card from Wolfie that made my day and inspired me to swim fast. According to the Gary Chapman's book The Five Love Languages, Words of Affirmation is my primary 'language.' So encouraging emails and cards and pep talks are all positive forces that act as huge motivators. It was perfect timing. And Hulk (aka the mailman) didn't get in trouble because he remembered to deliver it on time!
 |
| Wolfie's words of affirmation. |
 |
| Er, sexiest wetsuit... |
 |
| Hulk always tows me on the bike, so I was happy to tow him around for a bit in the water. |
 |
| Game face. |
 |
| #willraceforwine |
Turns out, GL Coaching's group is full of fast fishes who also placed really well!
 |
| Most of the crew with our winning schwag... |
But I'm still taking Mucinex, just in case.
Calidoscopio.
This morning I believed with all my heart that today would be a really fast swim day, and hopefully fast enough to secure a 1st place AG win. It may seem trite to some, but I really wanted this. Sure, I've never raced an open water 5K, but I did the math, checked results from last year against my old 2.5K results, and trusted the amazing coaching and swim sessions that I've had since February. As I was eating my pre-race breakfast, I happened to stumble upon this video.
It left me tearful over my bowl of oatmeal, and there were some valuable lessons I gained- Fall into your own tempo. Don't allow the pace of others to dictate your race. Find your own 'fast' and have faith in it. Trust it, even if others may judge you, and comment- like the track announcer did- that you're "way out of the race right now."
Lake Del Valle. 5K = 2 loops around. Feeding boat on bottom left!
The swim start was competitive and fast, and unlike triathlon where strong swimmers can 'out-bully' weaker swimmers, everyone here was stubbornly battling for position and no one was letting up. Someone behind me kept grabbing and pulling my feet down so I couldn't breathe (I know this was likely unintentional as they were probably trying to stroke their arms forward). But still. At one point, another swimmer and I got entangled in each other's arms so we looked like BFFs. That actually made me laugh.
This is cool on the beach. During a competitive open water swim? Not so cool.
I settled into my rhythm and kept asking myself and self-assessing- "Am I giving everything that I can? Am I squeezing out every last drop?" I just imagined myself in the pool next to Hulk, and all of those times when we'd have butterfly interspersed into a long swim set to build endurance- just enough to raise the heart rate, but short enough to still recover from that effort and settle back into your rhythm. Like the butterfly, I'd sprint to chase the bubbles in front of me, roll through it, and recover. And repeat. On the second lap around, there was no 'pack,' but merely random individual swimmers sprinkled throughout the water. To choose a target was meaningless. I just put my head down and kept swimming "my fast."
As I passed the final turn buoy, I turned on the motor as high as it would go. At this point, we were all so spread out, each of us choosing a different line to the finishing chute. I channeled Calidoscopio, coming along that last turn- strong, in rhythm and in flow.
I ran up the ramp and almost lost my balance as the volunteer removed my timing chip. "Good job, Bob!" I looked up in surprise at who knew my secret nickname, and it was Talia- we had swam together through high school and at UCSD. It was great to see her there. Another friendly face had also perfectly timed his bike ride to hear the announcer say my name- it really made my day.
I was really happy with my swim- 1:25:35. Was the course longer than 3.1 miles? Some said yes. Regardless, I was proud of my effort and was pretty sure that I had placed. All that changed when I checked the results. My heart sank. Above my name was another 32 year-old girl's name, with a time faster than mine by 15 seconds.
All of a sudden, in a flurry of disappointment, a really perfect swim became the object of detailed analysis.
"Should I have gone out faster?" I answered myself right away- "No. I went out as fast as I could." I took a leap of faith and wasn't afraid to swim alone, even if it meant ditching the feet in front of me and the effortless draft they offered. I knew deep down in my heart that I swam the best race that I could. I told myself, "C'mon! You should be so happy with 2nd place!"
But still, I couldn't shake the disappointment.
And that's when I met Susan.
As the last swimmer finishing the 5K, her 5K swim time rivaled that of some people who did the 10K swim... 3+ hours. In fact, as she was toweling off, some people asked her if she had just finished the 10K swim. You couldn't tell since she had a huge smile spread across her face. Her 63 year-old body was beaming. "That was the hardest thing that I've ever done. I wanted to quit so badly. But I didn't. I'm so incredibly proud of myself that I could cry!"
Wow. Attitude check.
Susan continued, "I know I'm a slow swimmer. I know that." In our conversation, I learned that she had just started swimming when she was 54 years old. I was intrigued. "What did you tell yourself when you wanted to quit?"
"I dedicated this race to my friend who has cancer. And even though this is hard, it's nothing in comparison to fighting cancer. I do these open water swims and everyone asks me, 'What was your time? What was your time??'"
She paused. It was at that moment when our eyes met and I spoke. "But really, time doesn't matter. At the end of the day, you and I both swam a 5K. And that's a lot more swimming than most people would ever attempt. Your courage, irrespective of your finishing time, will serve to inspire the people you know to attempt something that is outside of their comfort zone."
She began to cry. "Thank you." I looked at her as well with tear-filled eyes. Really, I was thankful to her. Her attitude gave me a renewed and different perspective. Sure, it would have been nice to win 1st place. But at the the end of the day, it's more about giving all you have, at that moment, and surrendering the outcome. And that's what we both did today.
When I look at my medal, I'll be reminded of Susan- and even if she never wins a tangible medal for her swim efforts, I know that her heart and her story is adorned with those medals of courage, honor, and faith- things of lasting value.
Hardware to remind me of this day and the lessons I learned.
Perhaps just like Susan and Calidoscopio- even if others label you as 'older' and 'slower,' you must learn to be comfortable going at your own pace in your own race. In your jobs, relationships, or marriages, outsiders may judge and say that you are "way out of the race right now." The trick is to drown out the voices of those critics and trust what you know is true. It's at this moment when the race- and the victory- are yours for the taking.
B.L.I.N.D. Dates
“There’s nothing worse than almost marrying someone, breaking if off, and having to start over with a blind date. It’s like failing your senior year of high school and having to go back to kindergarten.”
B.L.I.N.D. Dates (Blended Lime Juice In Nutty Deliciousness)
Ahh, the month of February. Heart-shaped chocolates and truffles. Romantic dinners with wine and red roses.
However, for those individuals whose significant ‘others’ take the shape of a bike, a running trail or a pool, perhaps now is a good time to start thinking about ‘dating.’
At the peak of Ironman training when I was juggling double-workout days and working full-time, it was hard to properly fuel my workouts given my time constraints. As a result, I would go into a training session either starving and burn out too soon, or I’d eat a substantial snack that would in turn, need substantial time to digest. By that time, the sun had set, and so had my motivation.
Enter, the blind date. A colleague of mine noticed my dilemma and kindly shared her creation- a mixture of natural energy consisting of dates, lime juice and nuts. Oh, the joys of simple nutrition! I appropriately nicknamed them B.L.I.N.D dates (Blended Lime juice In Nutty Deliciousness).
Just as real-life blind dates can sometimes be a pleasant surprise, these little creations were surprisingly delicious, and served their purpose well. Not only were they easily digestible, but the energy from the dates was quick-burning, and the monounsaturated fats and protein from the nuts kept my stomach satisfied. They conveniently fit into a gym bag or into the back of a jersey pocket for energy on the go. Try it for yourself!
B.L.I.N.D. Dates
-2 c. nuts (almonds, cashews, pecans, walnuts, pistachios)
-2 c. pitted dates
-1/2 c. dried sour cherries
-2 Tbs. flaxseed
-juice from 1-2 limes
Directions: Using a food processor, combine the above ingredients. Add enough lime juice to bind the ingredients enough where they can be easily rolled into balls. Enjoy!
Feel free to get creative with this basic recipe…try adding a scoop of protein powder, other dried fruit, shredded coconut, or even morsels of carob or chocolate for a sweeter variety.
Love is complicated enough. Keep your nutrition simple. Happy “dating!”
Original recipe and inspiration from the kitchen of my dear friend and fellow dietitian, Praveena Kumar, MA, RD.