Fuck yeah, thank you

Last night after the radio show, Chris said "Remember when you were in that 0spf video and you were like how can anyone listen to my voice? And now you're on the radio." It's true. For the past year (I can't believe it's been a whole year!), I've been chatting about running on the air with Chris and Kendra and Sheila. I probably laugh too much (and I definitely say "like" too much). But I haven't gotten kicked off yet, so that's something.

When Chris first asked if I wanted to be on the radio, I thought I should say no. When I got the dreaded plantar fasciitis, I thought I should quit the show because I felt like I wasn't running a lot and had nothing worthwhile to add to the conversation. I'm not particularly articulate or eloquent and I'm not a particularly talented runner. I don't feel like an especially interesting person. But I didn't say no and I didn't quit. For the simple reason that I didn't want to. (I've found that feeling like I "should" do something is not a great reason to do it, whereas wanting to do something is an excellent reason to do it). I love running and I love talking to people and I especially love being invited to adventures. Sometimes I would feel anxious, afraid I would say the wrong thing or push the wrong button. But in the moment, I forgot all about that because I was too busy having fun and being ridiculous. Even if I did say the wrong thing or push the wrong button, I was just like it's ok, I will keep trying to do better next time.

As soon as Chris made that comment, I realized he was right. And not just about the radio. I've been RSVP-ing Yes! to so much more in life. As I've gotten older, my attitude has shifted from why me? to why not? I'm not any better or smarter or nicer or more industrious. I don't have any less doubt or fear. It's just that when The Universe sends me invitations to new opportunities/adventures, I've stopped responding "No, I couldn't possibly, I won't be good enough" and started responding "Fuck yeah, thank you!"

Because you don't have to be the best at something in order to have an awesome time doing it. And the way to get better at something is by doing it, not by waiting until you are "ready" or "good enough" for it. You're already enough, wherever you are, however you are, right this very moment. If you don't want to do something, by all means say no. But if you really want to do something and are afraid of failing or not being good at it, know that you can say yes and some pretty amazing things may ensue. Sure, you might fail. But everyone fails sometimes. Failure doesn't mean you're not enough. It just means things didn't work out the way you were expecting. You can learn from it and try again. You can fail and try again as many times as you want. When you receive an invitation to awesomeness you don't have to decline out of fear, you can accept out of gratitude. You can RSVP "Fuck yeah, thank you!"

A year of radio shenanigans!

Lyric of the moment: "Jennifer you are not the only one. To sit awake until the wild feelings leave you..." ~The National "Fireproof" 

Johnny's 20th Runnin' O' The Green

I don't particularly like this race. I mean, I like that it exists. It's iconic. It's accessible to everyone, from 5 minute milers to first time 5 milers, even those who want to run while drinking beer (I don't know why anyone would do this. It seems like there is less drinking of the beer and more sloshing the beer everywhere. But I have seen people doing this every year I've run this race. And I guess there are weirder ways to celebrate the death day of an Irish saint). So it's a great race. It's just that if I'm going to pay money for a race, I'd rather it be a really long, small, snack-filled party in the woods than a short, very crowded and jostle-y party on a road. But Pete likes this race and I like Pete so here we are again this year.

How Pete prepares for a race: wakes up leisurely (at I don't even know what time since I am already out the door), drinks coffee, reads the news or looks up random things on the computer, gets dressed very slowly in stages. Stages 1-10 are mostly just him walking around in his underwear until I say something like "Nice running outfit, honey." Stage 11 is him realizing his one running jacket has a broken zipper. Stage 12 is him putting on something that is camouflage and/or says Navy on it. And then he is ready to go.

How I prepare for a race: wake up before it's light out, drink water, poop, run 5 miles to cough up and snot rocket out what I hope is the last disgusting remnants of the flu I had last week, return home to eat first breakfast (PB toast!) change into a green shirt and poop again, hug George several times, cut the top off of my hat because I never liked it as a hat and have just had the ingenious idea to turn it into a buff instead, pin my race number on 3 different ways before it comes out not entirely crooked. Wait for Pete to be ready to go.

I wasn't looking forward to this race. It was cold and crowded and those aren't my favorite things to be. Pete was like "Have you heard of prepping? It's where you prepare to have a good experience. It's nice out, it's warm..." And I was like "So, it's just lying?" It was not nice or warm (nice and warm is 75+ degrees and I can wear shorts and a tank top). But it was sunny and we were going to breakfast afterwards. He should have lead with that. Then we got hugs from Mort, who told us he was going to be announcing names at the finish line and I asked him if he would give us funny names when we finished.

Once we started running I was happy. Because running. And because I don't care about racing but I do care about running with my favorite people (or strangers who will become my favorite people). And Pete is strange and also my favorite person. I let Pete set the pace and just ran along, watching the weird parade that is a massive road race. There was colorful spandex everywhere. A spectator said "You're almost there" about 0.2 miles into the race. It was impossible to get lost because the course is literally just run out 2.5 miles, go around a cone and run back the exact same way. We got passed by a jogging stroller. Pretty typical road race stuff. During the last mile, we saw Ron out taking pictures and he captured this epic shot:

Photos Thanks to Goat Factory Media

Then he ran ahead of us and worked his photographer's magic to make us look like this:

Pete ran the whole 5 miles without stopping and without any breathing problems! This was his longest run so far this year and he said he felt good, so mission accomplished. As we approached the finish line, we saw Steven who had come to cheer, and Pete asked me if I would hold his hand. So we finished hand-in-hand while Mort called out "Megatron and He-man!" We grabbed some water, drove Steven back to his car, then went to Balsam to get bagels.

And that is how you take a day that is not nice and not warm and fill it up with miles and people and awesomeness and two breakfasts.

Lyric of the moment: "There is an answer in a question. And there is hope within despair. And there is beauty in a failure. And there are depths beyond compare..." ~Death Cab For Cutie "Black Sun"

Surly Skier. And other choices.

Last Saturday morning, while running snow-encrusted trails at Mendon Ponds Park at the TrailsRoc group run, two different cross-country skiers had two different reactions to our presence on the trails. (Some of the trails at Mendon are groomed for xc-skiers, but we were running on the side of the trail so as not to ruin the ski tracks). As we started, one skier coming towards us asked "You're not going to run across the groomed trail are you?" Sheila explained that we were going to be on the side edges of the trail, to which the skier responded "Oh good, thank you!" Most of the other skiers we saw didn't say anything, except for one woman who angrily yelled at us to "Get off the trails!"

I've been thinking about that incident and about the ways in which people have different responses to the same situation. When you encounter a situation that concerns you or that maybe you don't particularly like or just have some words to say about it, how do you respond? Are you Sensitively Assertive Skier? Or Surly Skier?

Despite our best intentions, I think we have all been Surly Skier at times (or Silently Surly Skier, where we say nothing aloud but are secretly resentful or angry. I am so guilty of this. I'm not proud to say I have spent entire relationships wearing Silently Surly Skier boots. It's not a good look. I have attempted to move on to a better look - gold pants and elephant pants - but I'm still a work in progress). We're imperfect, we make mistakes. Life is hard and everyone has struggles. We can't ever fully know what it's like to ski in someone else's boots. Maybe the Surly Skier was having a bad day or had a bad experience with runners in the past or I don't know, was auditioning for one of those You're not you when you're hungry Snickers commercials.

But moments like this remind me that in every situation I have a choice. I get to choose how to respond. I can give people the benefit of the doubt and respond with curiosity and kindness. Or I can be defensive/judgmental/angry. I can choose to add more fuel to the fuming pile of anger. Or I can choose to see other people's defensive/angry behaviors as what they really are: the outward manifestation of their own internal pain and suffering. Then I can choose to not take it personally and to respond with compassion. This is really freaking hard to do. It takes effort and practice and continually filling up your own internal reservoirs with love and happiness. But it's the most worthwhile choice you can make.

Ski on, my friends. May we choose sweetness (and Snickers) over surliness.

Lyric of the moment: "You're around 'til you're not around. And that's all I need to know. Every time you decide to stay. Then the world will make you go. And that's all you need to know. Enjoy your youth. Sounds like a threat. But I will anyway..." ~Regina Spektor "Older and Taller"