As I reflect on yesterday, it wasn't just 5 miles. There were 2 water stations on the course. "It's only 5 miles. Who needs water for 5 miles?" The thought quickly came & left. "When did 5 become 'only'?"

We did Jim's pace. He is slower than he used to be before his illness. We categorize our life, now, "before Jim got sick" & "after Jim got better." Jim poured over his numbers, yesterday. His age group ranking, his overall ranking, total number of runners, fastest in his age group, etc. It can be torture, sometimes.

Jim ran a few seconds slower than, last year--BUT-- he is a good 20 pounds heavier and stronger than last year! The ease & feeling of overall strength he had when he crossed the finish line is also to be taken into consideration. Numbers don't tell the whole story. My time doesn't show I was running with Jim. My time doesn't show I was high-5'ing every police officer & saying thank you. My time doesn't say I was taking pictures & waving to little kids on the bus as I was in my Pocahontas outfit- running next to a "politically incorrect" costumed Pilgrim. I waited for people to say something. No one did until the finish. An older man approached Jim & said he liked his outfit "now, when everything has to be politically correct." Jim said, "It's okay. I married a little Indian" then points to me. "Oh, all right!" the old man says. -Ewwww! We weren't trying to be political; but, I guess we were expecting to "stir the pot." Most people didn't say anything. What could they say? Clearly Jim is "the white man" & I AM Indian. We ran together; &, we make it work.

Did we dress up to celebrate Thanksgiving? Some people will say so. I love the idea that I have some connection to the idea of a trail running, Disney Indian. Some pointed out to me that she was likely a child bride- unlike Disney portrays. I have no doubt that is true. I have not researched it. Little known shocker, though: it is still practiced, today. Child brides are common in places where girls don't have access to education. Where girls don't have access to education, what else "are" they but property and a tool to grow & sustain a family. This is why we feel so strongly about our daughters receiving an education. They may CHOOSE to someday marry... or not... but they will not NEED to be dependent on anyone in their life. (Clearly my pet peeve-- but I'm going off topic.)

Back to the subject of our first world Turkey Trot race: I didn't celebrate holidays growing up. Part of me feels like I'm breaking a law as I dress up for a race. I'm still not officially celebrating holidays; but, I'm not pretending they don't exist anymore. I'm not refusing to utter the holiday's name. And clearly, yesterday, I dressed as an Indian- associated with Thanksgiving traditions. I just wanted to be Pocahontas; and, if people wouldn't look at me weird, I'd do it more often. (I'm ready to bust this outfit out for a Disney race! 💕) Can you imagine me wearing this at Oak Openings on the Yellow/Scout Trail? 😂😆😂😆

I did my first, solo, Turkey Trot (not dressed in costume) 3 years ago. When Jim was sick & we were visiting Cleveland Clinic. I needed to run & didn't know the area. What better way to get a run in but follow the arrows & not be alone during a challenging time? Jim's Atheist step mom (her own words) was making a meal. She is kind & did not make me feel pressured to celebrate "anything" other than have a meal after Jim's doctor appointment. It was the first time I had been part of such a large meal. No prayer was said. No religion was discussed. I felt awkward but included. We came back into town the following year. This time Jim & I both dressed as Indians. We had so much fun & the group smiled at our outfits. -This year, the big meal was cancelled in Euclid. Jim & I had already paid for the race so we went, anyways. There were almost 9,000 runners! It was crazy & an adventure that I share with my little "white man." (Jim asked me to revise this as "my little, white Polack. -Living "dangerously" & politically incorrect.) I hope to participate in this every year, now. Why? My motive: It's running! It's a large group of festive runners; &, I'm not running solo, anymore. There will always be a race I can RACE... but there aren't many opportunities to dress up in costume with my now healthy hubby & have fun. Running fun?! Yep! Another "never thought that would be true" fact.

I am grateful.

I have been saying for the past 2 years, "I am grateful..." I do not use those words, lightly. When you've been through hell, watching your family suffer, you are grateful for breathing on your own, walking unassisted, eating, driving, working, healthy enough to do housework, etc.

I don't need "Thanksgiving" to remind me to be thankful; but, I understand the sentiment. I am giving thanks EVERY day.

Chiropractor appointment today: pushing, rotating & pulling of my neck, back, legs & hips into alignment. Yowzas! I was still feeling tight when I left the office but "better." Then on the drive home my SI joint (the "T" where your spine & hips connect) "clunked." It was a sound like an old car with a bad transmission "dropping" & "clunking" into a different gear. It was MOST UNLADYLIKE; but a great relief. I am absolutely pain free & loose as a goose, right now. 

I told Dr. Poitinger about my 1/2 marathon & he assessed that "opening up my speed" on my declines was probably a lot of pounding on my body. 

I used to hate hills. Now,😂

I absolutely love them! The declines are the absolute best! I can truly fly... but I have to visit my mechanic, after I land.

Churchill's 1/2 Marathon race recap: I'm learning that if I have doubt in my abilities- which is always- I just say 'Whatever' & don't expect 'anything' except to finish. The pressure is "off." I believe 'no one is expecting anything great, now' & I seem to perform better. Today, I was expecting a 2:10 race.

(TMI) I was in a physical funk this week. It happens every month. My performance dips. My legs literally are so heavy I can't run. My breathing is off & I'm as tired as all get out. I call it my slog week. I read a book that explains it is a mid month hormonal dip & woman are prone to injuries, for about a three day slump. I just do what I can & then, like magic, the week ends & I can train, again. This is "slog week." I had absolutely no expectations for today's race. I considered NOT even showing up, earlier this week. I questioned if I would even finish. If my legs didn't work & I walked, I would get too cold & probably DNF. I thought 2:30 if I walk-ran. I thought 2:10 if I was able to move & trotted. I was tight & my left leg was giving me threats from the start. I just ran "yellow-orange." (Coach Jenny Hadfield talks about running in "color" which can shift depending on the course & other physical, daily limits. Yellow is easy. Orange is more effort & red is all out effort.) I ran Yellow-hitting-Orange, today. The official clock time said 2:02 when I finished but I didn't start when the clock started. We will see what the official time is, soon.

I walked a few steps at mile 10's incline & I ran 1/2 way up the hill at mile 12. I walked it to the top, ran the flat & ran the last overpass. I let gravity help, opened up & flew down the declines.

I have definitely become a stronger physical runner this year. I still have limited mental toughness. I have enough grit to show up for the fight; I just question all of the variables & how they will affect the final outcome. I err on the side of caution. That's not a pessimist; that's a realist.

The optimist in me signed up for the Spring Marathon in Training Group, again. I trained a year & saw significant improvements. Imagine what will happen, next year?! I had always hoped for a 2 hour 1/2 marathon. Now I am "there", regularly. THIS cycle, I want to regularly hit sub-2 hour races. It's possible... & I can't wait. I'll train for a full but will likely see the consistent results in my 1/2's. I'm good with that.

I saw my training group, Run Toledo Ambassadors and other friends at the start and finish. We encouraged & hugged each other. I'm getting the hang of this "socializing" thing.  

Today during the race, I thought: "only 6 more miles." Then I thought, "When did my mentality shift to the final 6 being easy-peasy-- especially during FUNK week, after my phone/music died in the cold?"  I'm not sure; but I like it. 😘 You just never know what race day will bring... but you'll never find out if you don't toe the line.

Epiphany this week: begging. I've always been a curt person. I have things to do & time schedules to keep. At work, a gentleman showed me a puzzle & asks, "How did we do it?" I examined it, made a few comments & said I didn't know. I was overly complimentary & polite, fully expecting the gentleman to then enlighten me. Instead he smirked a "superior" smile & asked again, with a taunting, "Can't figure it out?" I looked again, "No... but honestly, I don't really care." His smile quickly faded & he uncomfortably asked for & took the puzzle from my hand. He refused an explanation after this...

Scenario 2: a FB friend offers a code for a discount to a race. I don't respond right away because I need to check my calendar. I forget & ask, privately, later. "The codes are all gone," he responds in a PM. Later, again, he publicly announces, on FB that he received more codes, "Anyone interested?" I publicly say yes. Publicly, I am told I need to PM and ask for the code. What? I did, originally. I respond- publicly- & am told to ask a third time, privately. I think, 'What difference does it make?' I can see him PM'ing me a code after I ask. It may seem like just one more small step; but in my mind, it is me asking a third time-- begging? I publicly respond that I DID PM & he said 'no.' "PM me again, I just got new codes." Me: *thinking but not saying* "I'm not begging."

And that's when it hits me: the subject of begging & the thought of someone tauntingly holding something over my head like a bigger kid holding a smaller child's hat "just out of reach." Whether they realize it or not, it's a head game & I usually refuse to play.

As I dwell on this newly realized concept, I have the epiphany of how this has played into many other
life situations. My mother: she was expected to have a son to carry on the family name. (Inner turmoil: knowing SHE felt she "had" to have children until the male child was born.) In the Hispanic culture, girls are work horses, expected to grow & take care of their families. In some extreme cases, they are considered more like property than people- able to be traded and married off with little input. My mom made no secret that my brother was wanted & had he come first, she would have had no more kids. Do you know what that felt like growing up- knowing your sister and yourself just happened to be around because of birth order? Do you know what it feels like reflecting: "Well, at least she didn't give me up for adoption." That's what I'm grateful for?! I have numerous mommy-issues that I won't dwell on much more except that I finally realized, "I don't have to play the game." I don't want to perpetuate the game, either. My mom started the same "games" with our girls. I told her no & she didn't like that-- at all. One key difference: she smothered them with kisses & told them she loved them. I have yet to hear "love you or proud of you" from my mother. I can cry about it or just not play the game. I refuse to play the game.

Religion: the same principle applies in religion. If I was doing my all as a female, why should I beg & cry when I'm not given privileges because I'm not male? I just won't play the game if it won't go anywhere.

Our girls are NOT secondary citizens. I will NOT tell the girls- ours or others- not to try. I want any girl to think & become anything she works hard to achieve. AND-- our girls will know we love them, like them, WANTED them & support them as a human, being neither pro-male nor pro-female.

My eyes are wide open, nowadays. I play some games... other games, I'm boycotting. I'm not mad; I'm just picking different rules & a different team.