Someday I'll wear pink again

“You’ve lost weight.” Normally, those are wonderful words to hear but, I was walking away from the person who said it. I appreciated the compliment. Really, I did. It meant that my training and fueling was paying off; however, those tiny, critical voices inside my head began to question, “What? Was I so huge before? When did the “wide load” sign come down?” Clearly, their intent and my impact didn’t match.
 

I can remember back when I first started running years and years ago. I was jogging around the neighborhood in pink cotton sweats. Remember, I said I was new. I ran angry and tight in those days. I was self-conscious. I met a blonde-headed boy, a pre-teen, on a bicycle coming the opposite way. I was going to move past him with my eyes towards the ground, focusing intently so I didn’t have to engage.  I thought I had it made, when he said, “it’s gonna take a lot of running to jiggle off that fat.” Then, he pedaled off blissfully down the street.  I finished my run, stunned that anyone would let whatever was on their mind, slip out from their mouth. I know I was the adult, but I sure wished I had pushed him off the bike. Strength training. That experience didn’t stop me from running, again and again; though I did adjust my route and I never wore those pink sweats again. Intent and impact. When they match, it’s a punch to the gut.
 

I never saw him again; however, that mental moment is still in my brain every time I slip on a pair of tights --- black of course, because they’re slimming --- or tank tops. It probably explains, with apologies to the Susan G. Komen Foundation, my aversion to pink and I’m always with people who want to wear pink. Hopefully, karma’s the bitch they say she is, if not, one day I’ll pull on a pair of pink tights or shorts in search that little boy on a bike, prepared with a snarky riff on Winston Churchill I wished I had used years earlier, “I can lose weight, but you’ll always be stupid.”

Commitment Day

This morning I popped open my first writing notebook of 2014. The notebook is a variation on a practice I read about in Natalie Goldberg’s Writing Down the Bones. I buy a different notebook each month and fill it up with my thoughts and observations. I also note my runs and tape my race bibs in there. I read through the 2013 notebooks last night.

My year was like my running, up and down, and my writing entries showed it.

In 2013, I ran 425 miles and completed the AustinFit Magazine Distance Challenge; a series of six races (one ten-miler, two 10Ks, three half marathons) ending with the Austin Half Marathon; however, I rested after completing it and never quite got in gear again. Truthfully, I didn’t “feel” like doing anything; emotionally, physically, spiritually, or professionally. I was on autopilot most of the time. Guess what happens when you do nothing? Nothing. I wasn’t any closer to completing my ninth marathon. I wasn’t any closer to finishing any stories. I wasn’t any closer to losing weight.

Begin with the end in mind.

Stephen Covey writes that to be successful we must do that. My end is a different reading experience this time next year. I committed today, physically and symbolically, to making better choices in 2014 whether I feel like it or not. I ran the Commitment Day 5K this morning. It’s a nationwide, family-friendly New Year’s Day 5K Fun Run/Walk dedicated to starting a national conversation about living a Healthy Way of Life. I parked without blowing out a tire, so I was already way ahead of a month ago at the Thunderclouds Turkey Trot. It was a beautiful, crisp morning for over 1,000 of us. I finished it faster than any other 5K I’ve run for over a year. A good way to start off 2014.

Good choices have good consequences.

With today's race bib securely in my new notebook, I am committed in 2014 to taking lunch breaks, intentionally planning my meals, talking more kindly to myself, writing, hydrating, getting more sleep, having a consistent daily quiet time and completing a ninth marathon. Only 364 days to go!

Plight of the Worker Bee

A recent Wall Street Journal article, "The Tyranny of the Queen Bee", relates the experiences of women who worked for other women. Unlike “The Devil Wears Prada,” this wasn’t a movie.  This was real life. The article went on to refer to a 2011 survey of 1,000 working women by the American Management Association that found 95% of them believed they were undermined by another woman at some point in their careers. I’d like to know where the other 5% worked.  That number doesn't seem high enough.  The article speaks to professional woman mostly.  As an admin, I saw this lived out in meetings after meetings.  Executive women held their tongue until the formal meeting was over and grouped into side conversations afterwards as they picked over the carcass of what was once a good idea.  The executive woman I supported even said once, “she’s being nice to me, so I know the knife is going in.” We’ve come a long way, baby.

I noticed last night how insidiously it happens at all levels of the organization. Over drinks with two other women, non-managers, from my department, when the subject of another woman staff member came up there was eye rolling coupled with snarky comments.  They commented about another woman saying she certainly likes her “little certificate on the wall,” or she wears “bedazzled jeans a lot.”  One was referred to as the “No Queen.” And, I just sat there, thinking if I didn’t say anything, I wasn’t part of it. Unfortunately, that’s not the case.  I can do better.  I want to be a woman who helps other women. And, it begins with something as slight as a conversation.

The Case of the Reluctant Leader

Three years ago I turned from Della Street into Perry Mason.  I took over managing a team of my administrative peers.  The choice was easy then.  Manage or be managed.  I said, “Yes,” readily to the promotion. You always think a title change helps make the transition easier.  It doesn’t.  These are the same people you were with when you were poor mouthing a departmental directive or calling in for “mental health” days. Still, as Spark & Hustle founder, Tory Johnson, says “Don’t wait until you’re comfortable – that day may never come.”   I’m learning, though, managing is hard.  Leading as an introvert is even more difficult.   It's as if I'm learning to run all over again.  Extroverts in the front.  Introverts in the back.  I remind myself, we all run the same distance, just at a different pace, and we all finish.

I Run By Faith

Normally I avoid all post-race photos; however, I had been training hard, eating well, and hydrating often before my two most recent races-the 3M Half Marathon and Rogue 10K.  I thought surely these photos would be something I would like to see, maybe even purchase.  I had made sure I smiled whenever I saw a race photographer pointing their lens at me; trying not to show the strain of a back of the packer and imploring them to Photoshop me fast!

What a shock.  In my mind’s eye I was a Kenyan, yet in the photos I resembled the Sam Hurt cartoon character, Queen of the Universe.  I thought to myself, if I look like this now, what did I look like in the previous race photos? I wondered if I ever would like one of my race photos and felt discouraged.

Then, I reminded myself; I don’t run to look like a runner.  I run to feel like a runner. I run because that’s when I get my best ideas. I run because every time I head out the door, my shorts fit more loosely than the run before. I even finish a few seconds faster. So these days, to paraphrase 2 Corinthians 5:7, “I run by faith not by sight.” One day my race photos will catch up to what my inner runner already knows. I am a runner.