For Sheila

Almost every significant person in my life has shared a word with me at some point that has been like a ray of heaven breaking through clouds. Their words, whether they realized it or not, were the perfect advice, encouragement, or kick in the rear I needed.  These stored sound bytes are like apples of gold in my memory.

My sister-in-law, Sheila, was one such person who left an indelible word for my life. She passed away last week after a long battle with cancer, and she was one of the sweetest women I have ever met.  Her smile was infectious.  I can close my eyes and hear her laughing. However, there was no doubt she was going through a lot of stresses and struggles a few years ago when she told me, "It's been really rough lately, but I'm trying to remember to guard my heart and not let the root of bitterness get in."

And like that her words became seared in memory. Guard my heart. Proverbs 4:23.  I knew that verse, but hearing it again was so very aptly timed.  Whether Sheila knew it or not, that's just what I needed for just that season and in just that way.

Anyone who knows me well knows that I have had a very large struggle with my faith in the past few years.  So much so, I questioned whether I even believed in God. I can't quite convey what it's like to go from belief to the edge of unbelief, but it's akin to teetering on the precipice of a monster black hole inside a monster galaxy inside a universe. It's beyond lonely, and I did not like it, not one little bit. But my mind kept circling there on that precipice with great wings of disappointment, disillusionment, and disgust.  During that time (a few years?), I rarely ever prayed.  I just couldn't get it out. On the few occasions I did, I prayed only two things: Lord sustain me through this and please help me guard my heart. Sheila's words from God, and that's it.

God is merciful. Slowly, but surely, the acorn buried deep in the snow, took root and began to grow.  Even now it's scarcely a seedling, but it rejoices in the spring because it knows winter. I don't ever want to return to that precipice, but I'm grateful beyond measure that I was there.  And I'm grateful beyond measure for a beautiful sister-in-law who became my conduit to God.

Yes, this is a quasi-running blog.  A marathon preparation blog at that. Since the moment I began training, I knew I wanted to dedicate my 26.2 mile race to Sheila. Every time I pulled out of my driveway at 6:25 on some cold Saturday morning for my long run, I thought of her. Every mile of aching injury I'd feel, I'd be reminded of her painful struggle with cancer. To the end, she fought the good fight, she saw the prize set before her, and she finished her race.  She won. A marathon is the representation of life. I have such peace that I'm truly living life as me, and I believe Sheila did too.  And that's contentment right there.

I run because I'm happy,
I run because I'm free,
For His eye is on the sparrow, 
And I know He watches me.

 I try to remember that passion looks like craziness to those who don't share it.  ~ Jan Stuckey (my mom)

a mini rant (or is it a rave?)

Every now and then I'm privy to the conversations my 14 year old daughter has with her girlfriends.  I'm shocked I tell you, shocked, to hear how often beautiful young girls bemoan their weight and specific body parts. They want to lose 10 pounds, make their thighs thinner, grow taller (overheard:  "Did you know you can go through some sort of procedure where they break your shin bones and make you taller?").  Perhaps more boys will like them (ugh), and they'll be happier. It breaks my heart.

Barbie blown up to lifesize. Yay for modern women. :-(

I was 14 once, and I understand how a negative body image can become a silent, desperate plight to be 'perfect'. They say men are visual, but good grief, women are too; they just turn it inwards. With the advantage of some a lot of age and hindsight, I believe all of that body image angst is the work of Satan (and yes, I mean what I just wrote). Whether a or woman is 5' 7" and 110 lbs. or 5' 1" and 350 lbs., I want them to know, really know that they're valuable, beautiful, and loved.  (Psalm 139:14)

But I'm frustrated because I don't know how to help this epidemic of female body dysmorphism. I see it all around me and I, of course, am not immune.  Images are everywhere. There's Barbie, mainstream pornography, photoshop, magazine covers at grocery store check-out stands, etc. I don't measure up figuratively or literally. My hunch is you don't either.   

I remember reading a Little House on the Prairie book with my children a few years ago.  I was struck by the thought that Caroline Ingalls was out on a desolate prairie, with her husband, and did not have to be concerned about comparing her body with a female ideal.  There was no 'ideal'.  As desolate as her situation was, it also seemed liberating.  Now THAT'S women's lib, I thought.  Partnering, caring, and comfortable in your own skin.   Because there's nothing to tempt you to think otherwise. Ah, take me to the frontier in Kansas.  

Do I think eating well is good?  Of course.  Do I think exercise gives me more energy, keeps me feeling young(er), clears out my mind?  Yep.  There's a certain value to those things that I don't wish to minimize  -- because they don't have to be mutually exclusive. But do you have to be  crazy "skinny" to be valuable?  Absolutely not.  I really. Truly. Don't give a flip. 

Women, let's not strive to be perfect renditions of the female 'ideal' (who set that up anyway?).  I'd venture to say it's not a healthy focus for weight loss or an exercise regimen either. With confidence I say:  All of my friends and family are BEA-U-TIFUL.  Be healthy! But I don't even know or care what your body looks like. :-)


P.S. My sister-in-law, Sheila, is experiencing excruciating pain right now. Doctors think it's probably cancer in her bones.  I don't know.  I know her heart and it's one of the most beautiful, most honest things I do know.  If you're reading this, please pray for her. 

I had an epiphany a few years ago when I was out at a celebrity party and it suddenly dawned on me that I had yet to meet a celebrity who is as smart and interesting as any of my friends. ~ Moby

Know Thy Exercise Self

This has nothing to do with running.  It's just funny. :)

At the tender age of 41, I believe I've finally settled into an exercise routine that suits me.  At least for the time being. But it's taken me a long time to get here.

I've had to determine the elements that motivate me to exercise and what keeps me going.  I only wish I had realized what I needed earlier. In no particular order, they are:

1.)  Groups - I like to train with groups.  As long as I don't feel too intimidated, I enjoy exercise camaraderie.

2.)  Goals - Give me an attainable goal, and I'm set.  I don't do well when I feel like a hamster in a wheel going nowhere.  (For what it's worth, the goal of a marathon has been a long time in the making.  It didn't happen overnight.)

3.)  Routine - I generally go to CrossFit two times a week at noon and again on Saturday mornings.  I've just started running two mornings a week, with my (not-yet-so) long run early Saturday morning.  Tuesday evenings I've started running hills with my neighbor (hey, Kris!).  Life, kids, dinner, a husband...  all can complicate the routine.  I do my best to ignore work around them. ;-)

4.)  Enjoyment - Step aerobics is the devil's spawn, and I'd rather listen to 1,000 screaming toddlers for a week than use an elliptical machine.  I may get a knot in my stomach when I hear we're doing the Air Force WOD at CrossFit, and I may complain about having to do a long run in freezing weather, but ultimately it's what I enjoy.  I'm a masochist, but it works for me.

5.)  Mood - I can't count the number of times I've entered a workout anxious, troubled or down-right burdened by life.  Without exception, life is better after I've gotten my heart pumping. Not that exercise solves every problem, but I know from experience that it helps.  We're amazing designs. (Psalm 139:14)

I raise my water bottle to all you hard-working people trying to manage life and exercise. In this race called life, may your serotonin levels be high and your exercise routine a perfect fit.

P.S.  Please pray for Sheila (my sister-in-law).  She's having tubes taken out tomorrow and a possible procedure done on her left lung that will be quite painful. Thank you so much.

Whatever you are, be a good one.  ~ Abraham Lincoln

Part 2: Why I Run

A second reason I run is to honor and remember those who can't.  When I started training for a half-marathon last fall, I learned that my sister-in-law's cancer had returned.  It was stage 4. She had so much trouble with the cancer in her lungs that it was a struggle just for her to breathe.  Large amounts of fluid had to be drained from her lungs, and she spent many agonizing nights in the hospital.  Every time I would start running, I'd think about her family.  I became very conscious of my breath, that constant yet essential function, and I remembered to pray for Sheila to be healed.

It is for her, my dear sweet sister-in-law Sheila, who bravely continues her struggle against cancer, that I dedicate this marathon.  Your faith and courage are such an inspiration, and I love you.  For the other two family members that have been lost to cancer, my step-brother Chris, and my mother-in-law Glenda:  I know we'll one day run together on streets of gold. 

You don't have a soul. You are a Soul. You have a body. - C.S. Lewis