Author: runforgoodblog

They say not every run can be a good one and that we should be humbled by the bad ones. I get that. I mean, I’m practically the poster girl for finding lessons in bad experiences. But sometimes having a bad run just sucks, especially if it’s on race day. Then again, sometimes the best lessons come to you anyway, even if you’re not looking for them.

On Thanksgiving morning, I woke up at 6:30 a.m. to a 23° temperature. Not ideal. It was a beautiful morning though. The sun was bright and the sky was a clear, crystal blue. I’d been looking forward to the Turkey Trot and the Double Gobble for weeks. I left my house at 7:00, wanting to give myself enough time for traffic but not enough time to be waiting in the cold for too long. If you’ve ever run with numb toes, you know that it’s highly unpleasant.

The 5k portion of the Double Gobble started at 8:30 and the 5-miler began at 9:15. I made it downtown by 7:40. Perfect! …Or so I thought. Traffic was horrendous near the Heinz Field lots. I wasn’t worried though, I still had plenty of time. I enjoyed the view of the field from my window, turned the radio up, and snapped a picture. It took about 20 minutes to get off the ramp only to sit through light changes as the lots quickly filled. I was starting to get a little nervous. I pinned my bib to my zip-up and watched the other runners hurrying to the starting area. Another 15 minutes passed and I had only managed to drive a few yards. 8:15 became 8:20 and I was getting frustrated. At this point, a few runners hopped out of an SUV in front of me. I wish I could’ve done that, but there I was, stuck; stuck and helpless. I pulled into a lot only to drive right back out because it was full. This was a beginning to be a nightmare. The exit of the lot spit me back into the traffic I thought I was free from. 8:27, l wasn’t going to make the 5k. I got a lump in my throat and my eyes started to well up. Don’t get too upset Bianca, it’s not the worst thing. You’ll still have the 5 miler. I was trying to talk myself down, but I felt like a 3 year old that accidentally let go of her new balloon.

As I waited, another pair of runners hopped out of a car in front of me. And there I was, still stuck… and alone. I made a last second decision to park in the Rivers Casino garage. By this time I was so caught up in my disappointment that I wasn’t really paying attention to where I parked. Did that sign say level 2?

At the 5 mile start line I was surrounded by runners in orange and brown tutus and silly turkey hats. All my bouncing and stretching was not enough to keep my toes warm, they were starting to tingle. Crap. On a similar note, all the positive thinking about how things happen for a reason was not enough to quell my disappointment.

I was trying to snap out of it, but it wasn’t easy. It was just an awful race. For starters, my ear buds gave out so I had no music to motivate me. There weren’t any mile markers or time clocks along the route. Nothing is more irritating than not knowing how you’re pacing or how much farther you have to go. Nothing except almost stepping in dog poop at least 5 times. I’m a dog lover, but let’s be considerate people! There weren’t even any Smiley cookies at the finish.

But by then, the endorphins had kicked in and I was feeling better. I was looking forward to my drive to Maryland and spending Thanksgiving with my family. I grabbed a water and enjoyed the view along the river front. I took my gloves off to take a picture and noticed that my fingers and toes were comfortably warm now. It’s funny how that happens, isn’t it? You keep running for the sake of running and even if it’s not your focus, it’s a welcome and pleasant result. It’s like the lessons you learn sometimes. Just keep walking (or running) the path that was meant for you and the lessons from those tough moments will reveal themselves.  At this point I sort of thought the lesson was that I should get to places earlier. (Truer than I’d like to admit! ) But the more time I spent in the garage searching for my car the more I thought maybe the lesson was something different. After 20 minutes, the frustration and the stinging cold crept back in. Maybe this is God’s way of telling me that I should finally listen to my friend and let her fix me up. I wouldn’t be in this predicament if I had someone to drop me off and pick me up. And it wouldn’t be so bad if I had someone to cheer me on, maybe even make a little “Go Bianci!”sign for me. That would actually be pretty great.

Just as I was starting to wish for something I didn’t have, I felt a buzz in my pocket. It was a text from that friend. “Hope you had a great race!” I responded and explained my situation. “If your car is stolen, I’ll come pick you up!” I laughed. How amazing to have a friend like that. I realized how fortunate I was and how foolish I was being. That was the lesson.

I eventually found my car, which was actually on level 4. I made it to Germantown with just enough time for my nephew and I to play outside before dinner. He galloped and plunged into a pile of leaves and I gushed over his sweet, gleeful voice; “You do it too, Aunt B!” All the meaninglessness frustrations of the day disappeared.

The thing is, my story would’ve been so different if I’d had someone to drive me to the race. This was the story I was meant to tell.  We talked, ate a lot, played Thanksgiving Bingo, and had a puppet-show battle with my nephew and his cousin. I sat on the living room floor and listened to their infectious laughter as the construction paper turkey lost a wing in the fight.  I was overwhelmed with a feeling of warmth and gratefulness. I was awestruck over how lucky I was and couldn’t imagine wanting anything else than what I’ve been blessed with.

Today was a very special day. It was my office’s Thanksgiving-Banksgiving! I’ve been super hyped about Banksgiving for weeks now. I mean, we all love a food day at work, but honestly it’s not just about the food.  Sure we like to eat, but we also really like each other’s company. For me, it’s about breaking bread and enjoying the time we get to spend with these crazy, cooky, warm-hearted people we call our work family. Because in a way they are family. At least if we’re lucky.  I have been very fortunate to work with some truly great people over the years.  An idea that’s been dominating my thoughts as I reflect on my life and career. This is how it actually played out in my head one day last week:

So… my coworkers are going to kill me if they find out I did my long run today.  I was supposed to rest today. The last two days I’d been sick and miserable at work. I was achy, stuffy, raspy, and cranky. I was scheduled off today so it was supposed to be a day for recouping. In my defense, I did sleep in and I do feel a little better. I’m a big proponent of “sweating it out” anyway. Besides, I really didn’t have a choice. I have this Turkey Trot in a week and today is my best chance for a training run. I have so many errands over the next few days, I work Saturday, Sunday is a baby shower, and then prepping for office Thanksgiving. Still, I know I’m going to get some head shakes if they find out. They may not understand, but it’s sweet that they care. I mean their concern is genuine, without a doubt. I am so fortunate. This makes me think about all of the great coworkers I’ve had over the years, some of whom are now great friends.

 I’m at the laundromat now, making a grocery list and being lulled by my clothes playfully tumbling in the industrial dryers. All to the tune of Alicia Keys’ Fallin‘ in my earbuds. So far I’ve got down peanut butter and brown rice for the food bank. As part of the Turkey Trot, runners can drop off non perishable items at packet pick up. But I still have to decide what I’m making for Banksgiving! My giddiness has reached a new and preposterous level. Finally, we are in the throes of the holiday season. This is what it’s all about. Giving and gratefulness, friends and family; turkey, stuffing and peppermint mochas. This is all my jam.

My clothes took their final tumble and I checked the time, 4:53, I wanted to be at Wal-Mart by 5ish. I quickly folded as I decided on cranberry waffles for Banksgiving. I considered each person before I made my choice. There’s the sweet, mellow, laid back dad; the well-meaning, lovable nerd; the Chatty Cathy; and the cool, old school rock queen. These are of course only abbreviated versions of their personalities. They all bring something different to the table. Just like a great pot luck, there’s a healthy variety of flavors. You’ve got your buffalo chicken dip, your veggies (so you don’t feel too guilty), your deviled eggs, and your fancy cupcakes. Food day celebrates our differences and our unique bond. Sharing food is one of the best ways to support and nurture one another. It sounds corny but it’s the truth. I have Bridge Over Troubled Water coming through the ear buds now and I’m getting a little misty eyed (fate’s perfect timing). Okay so I get a little extra emotional when I’m sick. And now I’m shaking my head because it’s my coworkers that see that sentimental side of me the most. How do they put up with me?

We spend so much time at work, it’s inevitable that our work mates know us as much or better than anyone else. They’re the ones that see how you handle stress, how you react to good news and how you take your coffee. A great coworker is like comfort food to a runner. They’re safely familiar, they stir up good memories, and keep you going even when things are tough.

I pulled into Babies R Us; picking up a shower gift for a former co-worker. I browse the aisles like a kid in a candy store and think about how lucky I’ve been to form bonds with such wonderful people. I think about all the belly laughs, the tears of frustration and the million times we quoted Step Brothers and Mean Girls. There’s been game nights, crazy boyfriends, break-ups, first dates, gift exchanges, nicknames, inside jokes, and even hospital trips. There’s been a little bit of dancing…and jazz hands. I almost forgot about jazz hands! There’s so much, and it means so much that I’ve had the opportunity to celebrate important milestones with many of my coworkers; people who I am proud to know. It means even more to me that we’ve  made the every day memorable too. At any moment I can think of something sweet or funny that a coworker did and it brings me joy. They’ve always made- and still make- work a place that I look forward to going. At this time of year when we put a spotlight on what we’re most grateful for, I can’t help but to think about my coworkers, past and present. I have a bigger heart for knowing most of them and I am eternally grateful for each and every one of them.  Happy Thanksgiving!

On the morning of the Great Race, runners were herded onto PAT buses, transporting us to the start line.  It was standing room only by the time I shuffled my way on. I stood in the center aisle holding my phone and ear buds in one hand and gripping the metal bar above me with the other. My mind wandered through a dozen thoughts as we swayed back and forth to the stops and starts. Just in front of me, a young couple stood close to each other face-to-face. The woman, a thin fresh faced blonde probably about 23, gave her boyfriend a little peck on the cheek. It was sweet, made me smile. I wondered if they were nervous about the race. To my right another couple was sitting holding hands. He had a bushy red beard and a cool looking septum ring. She had cranberry red hair and long, hairy legs. The words of a good friend popped into my head. Well… theres a lid for every pot. I smiled again and gazed out the window as we passed concrete walls splashed with grafitti. I’m not sure if I believe that statement. I’m not sure if there is a lid to my pot.  I’ll be content either way. I mean, you can cook plenty of things without a lid. We hit a pothole and I clenched tighter to the bar as we bounced. I got an unfortunate whiff of the guy’s ripe pits behind me. Truly, it would’ve been a great deodorant commercial. I scrunched my nose and looked around to see if anyone else noticed. I was surprised at how many couples were on the bus.  Hmm, I don’t know if I could do that. Running is something I do to decompress from everything and everyone. I dated a guy once that mentioned the possibility of joining me on some of my runs. He meant well, but it actually sounded like a bit of a nightmare to me. If I were to be in a relationship with someone, running would have to be my thing. I’m not sure if that means I’m independent or selfish; maybe a little of both. Its funny, there’s such a fine line between independence and selfishness but their outcomes are drastically different. A selfish person will hold on too fiercely to something they want, but an independent person will know when it’s time to let go. Running didn’t teach me that-life did. But running does help find the balance. It’s like discerning the subtle difference between pushing hard or overtraining. Experience allows you to do that. It also teaches you how to draw on certain muscles when the others start to get weak. It’s just like seeing the good in others versus giving them too much credit, being humble versus selling yourself short, or being cautious versus being jaded. Staying on one side of the line will keep your soul content, crossing over could crush it. I’m still trying to get a lot of it right. Although, no one can ever accuse me of not knowing when to let go.

I feel for anyone who has had to make the choice between following a loved one or staying behind. For me, I always knew what the right answer was, but often the choice isn’t so clear.  And even then, it’s extremely difficult. A few years ago my boyfriend of 5 years made the decision to move to Texas. Even though he wanted me to go with him, he did explain that money would be his first priority. If I have one piece of advice to give, it’s to never accept being second place. The night we had the break up conversation I felt a little relief… at first. He gave me a goodbye hug and I shut the door behind him. With the turn of the lock, the weight of my decision came crashing over me like a tidal wave. It blindsided me. I still can’t understand how it’s possible to feel so empty but so heavy at the same time. I thought my heart was gone. For some weeks, I alternated between overwhelming grief and numbness. Here’s where running helped me the most. In the mornings I would drag myself out of bed and go out for a run in the park. It would bring me temporary relief. I know it was the endporphins, but it was something else too. I would run, taking one step after another,  knowing each one would take me farther away from the pain. I knew I was eventually going to be fine. I knew it, but couldn’t feel it. Until one day after a speed run, I felt my heart pounding fast in my chest. There it is! It’s not gone, it’s mine. My heart will always be mine and it’s up to me how much of it and with whom I share it. Whether or not anyone chooses to stay in my life will not change who I am. That’s true for everyone. I thank God for helping me realize this. I am eternally grateful that things worked out the way they have.

The bus slowed down as we approached Frick park. I felt a twinge of excitement.  I shifted my feet for stability as I let go of the bar and attempted to pin my race bib to my tank. I hoped it would be a good race. Sometimes all you can do is keep taking steps, hoping each one keeps you on the right course. You’ll eventually gain enough wisdom to know where to place your faith. Then you can be grateful for every experience, every hurt, and every joy. Nothing brings true happiness like knowing that things are just as they should be.
I don’t know what the future holds for me or if theres some elusive lid out there for me. I just know that I’ll never let anything shake me, not even a stranger’s stinky armpits or Pittsburgh potholes.

Type “running and music” into a Google search bar and you might be overwhelmed by the results. There are so many conflicting arguments regarding the benefits of music on athletic performance. Some say that the effects are insignificant, others say that it is far better to run without the distraction of music. I get that; I try to go at least half of my runs without music so I can be present and in tune with what’s going on around me. But I have to admit, music makes it feel better for me. We all have certain songs that rev our adrenaline and of course running gets our endorphins flowing. There’s something about that combination; it’s like a shot of confidence. It makes a person feel tougher, stronger, sexier; it may even get our hearts racing a little. It’s all so difficult to explain if we’re only using cold data and statistics.

One day I might have the discipline to delve deeper into the technical  research.  But for now I just want to entertain you by sharing some of the songs that I listen to. So here it is: my Fall 2017 playlist, in no particular order. It was extremely difficult to narrow it down, so don’t judge!

1.Eminem – Lose Yourself
Okay, this may be an obvious choice.  It’s probably been on everyone’s running playlist at some point.  What can I say, it’s just the perfect beat for a run- and highly motivating.  Plus it’s relatable to those of us with nervous stomachs/performance anxiety. (Yes, I was that girl who puked in the bathroom before the States and Capitals Bee.)  I feel you, Rabbit.

2. Audioslave – Be Yourself
I could have picked at least a dozen Audioslave songs to be on this list.  There was often a downhearted inflection in Chris Cornell’s voice.  That’s one of the reasons we loved it so much; a notion that takes on a tragic significance after his death.  This makes me think of two things. First, life can be painful sometimes and it’s important to find your strength wherever you can.  Running helps you do that in a way.  So does being true to yourself. That’s the second thing: It’s not always easy to stand your ground. In fact, sometimes it can be heartbreaking and you end up losing something you thought was valuable. Trust me, I know. But that loss doesn’t even begin to compare to what you gain in confidence and wisdom.

3. Drake ft Rihanna – Take Care
I just really like this song.  This is for everyone with the optimism to believe that the last one will be the best one.  And I’m still rooting for Drake and Rihanna to be together.

4. Mark Morrison – Return of the Mack                                                                                 

Who doesn’t love this song? It’s just a cool jam and in a way, it has an empowering message.  Remember what it’s like when you stop feeling sad over a break up and start feeling like yourself again? That’s an awesome feeling. Suddenly you’re reminded of how amazing you are! This song was practically my anthem this summer.  Although… I’m not a “mack” per se. I don’t think I’m cut out for macking. Okay, truthfully, I only have a vague idea of what a mack even is, and I do not condone that behavior. Still a good jam though.

5. The Pretenders – Don’t Get Me Wrong
Long gone are my 6-year old fantasies of growing up to be a bad ass like Chrissie Hynde. It makes me laugh a little to even think of it. This song still brings back happy memories of my childhood though. It’s just so catchy. And I know that this isn’t the meaning, but when Chrissie sings “Don’t get me wrong…”, I can’t help but think, haven’t we all felt misunderstood at some point?  We all just want to be with someone that gets us.

6. Pearl Jam – Release 
There aren’t too many Pearl Jam songs I wouldn’t include on a playlist.  If you were a teenager in the 90’s and had a soul, then you loved- no, you lived for– Pearl Jam.  And you probably still do.  You also probably owned this t-shirt:

7. Eddie Vedder – No Ceiling 
And then Eddie Vedder wrote an album for the movie Into the Wild and many of us felt grateful that someone  finally understood our deep and longing need for freedom and to be one with nature.  This song- the entire album, really- gives me all the feels when I’m running in the park, frolicking past trees and squirrels. I watch the leaves gliding in the wind, take a few nice deep breaths…and accidentally inhale a damn bug through my nostril. Nature can have a sick sense of humor sometimes.

Into The Wild Quotes Into The Wild Quotes – Google Zoeken | Movies Series | Pinterest – Daily Quote

8. David Guetta ft Ne-Yo and Akon – Play Hard
This song gets me pumped. And I could listen to Ne-Yo allll day.  “A hustler’ s work is never through!”- that’s my mantra at work.  Although, for some reason my coworkers laugh at me when I say it.  Work hard? Yes! Play hard? Well… that makes me think of waking up with a headache and a terrible taste in my mouth.  I’ll play in moderation,  thank you very much.

9. Need to Breathe – Brother
Some think that faith is about blind optimism and ignorance.  But it really takes a great deal of diligence and wisdom.  Faith is a journey that often feels like a marathon. We all need a little help getting through. And that’s okay, because most of us also have the desire to be needed.  That’s what motivates me. I’m not talking about being an inspiration or being a “light” to others.  That seems so contrived.  I simply want to be someone that people can count on.

10. Michael Jackson – P.Y.T.
This is oh-so 80’s MJ and that makes me oh-so happy.  This this is my jam; you don’t even know! I usually have to play this one at the end of my runs because it makes me want to dance.  I can’t help it.

Even as I’m finishing this post; I keep thinking of songs I want to add. But I’ll save them for the next playlist. Anyway I hope you enjoyed this list and maybe I even mentioned one of your favorites songs. If not; sit tight, there might be something for you in the future.  Any requests? Let me know!

True generosity comes from the heart, nowhere else.  A person may be motivated to give out of guilt or obligation or for recognition, but that’s not really giving as it was intended.  And I do believe we were all meant to serve others in some way.  This is true whether we are giving our resources, our time, or our talents.  I think its part of our purpose.  Maybe it’s not all we were meant for, but it’s definitely a big part of it.  Service looks different for everyone though.  Some people coach little league or bake cookies for their neighbors and others make a whole career out of it by becoming a doctor or nurse or firefighter.  Whatever it looks like on the outside, it has to come from the inside.

And then of course, you actually have to do something.  I read a book for school a few years ago called Inside Out Families.  The author follows families that felt compelled to do good in one way or another.  It highlighted the enormous impact that these families had once they put their good intentions into action.  This is often the hardest part.  A lot of us have plans to do good, but where does one begin?  There’s so much need out there and we’re all so busy, and it’s kind of scary to think of giving up a part of our comfortable lives.  Listen, I’m definitely guilty of thinking like that.  I have a certain way I like to spend my days and sometimes the thought of breaking that routine bothers me.  I worked retail for many years and used to think that once I stopped working on weekends, I would try to spend some Saturdays volunteering for Habitat for Humanity.  So now I work banker’s hours and somehow there’s always some other excuse.  I’ll often look up Habitat’s schedule of events hoping to find a Saturday that I can commit to.  This always ends after a few minutes with me resigning myself to writing them a check instead.  A very small check.

I’m hoping it won’t always be this way. I’m still trying to figure out my niche here.  Like I said, that’s one of the reasons for this blog.  I’m trying to figure out how I can do the most good and hopefully get other people excited about giving too.  On one hand, maybe I’m taking the easy way out because I’m doing something I like to do anyway.  It might be hard for me to commit to Habitat, but I’m going to be running on a Saturday morning anyway so I might as well donate to a cause while I’m doing it.  On the other hand, this might be my best chance, because when you truly love something you’re going to do it even if it’s uncomfortable.  I thought of this as I was running in the rain today.  I was having a great run so when it started to pour, I just kept going and let myself get soaked.  Never let a little inconvenience or discomfort keep you from experiencing something truly amazing.

Even some of the families in Inside Out Families, started out very hesitant about the service they set out to do.  But in the end they realized they were much better off for doing it.  Sometimes you just have to develop a heart for something.  Maybe they had an easier time because they were in it together and could hold each other accountable.  That’s sort of what I’m trying to do here- encourage others to join in my giving so that we’re in it together.  I’m a big proponent of teamwork and collaboration.  We are exponentially more powerful when we work together.  I often think, who wouldn’t want to get in on this?   But while my enthusiasm might be infectious to some, I also understand that it might be irritating to others.  And that’s okay, that won’t make me change.

I’m starting to develop a nice history of trying to motivate others to give- trying and failing.  A few years ago I had this idea of starting a charity race of my own.  For an extremely short time, I thought it might actually work.  I’m not sure what sparked the idea but I clearly remember discussing my plans with my friends over dinner.  We were at Rey Azteca and of course a margarita was involved.  It seemed like the more I sipped that drink, the better my ideas got. The goal was to raise money for the food bank.  It was going to be in December, so it was going to be Christmas-themed.  I was going to give out ornaments instead of medals, there would be hot cocoa and homemade cookies at the finish, and even an appearance by Santa.  When I got home, I sent out a Facebook message to the friends I was sure would be interested. No one was interested.  I cringe to think of it now.  I really can’t even blame it on the tequila.

Maybe one day something like that will happen, maybe I just have to change my tactics.   There was a time when my encouragement actually worked… sort of.  When I was a manager at Claire’s, I tasked my employees with collecting non-perishable food items for the food bank.  I can’t quite remember, but I think I gave the incentive of a Saturday off to the one who collected the most goods.  I thought that if this went well, I would ask other managers to do the same and we could make it a district- wide competition.  That never happened, but looking back, it wasn’t a total fail.  When I first brought it up to one of my employees she flippantly replied, “I’m not going to give to the poor, I am poor.” I started to laugh until I realized she was completely serious.  I just shook my head and turned back to my paperwork on the back counter.  I looked down at the budget sheet and just blankly stared at the numbers on the page.  I could feel my cheeks getting flush with frustration.  This was a girl who made enough to afford her own apartment, utilities, groceries, and lunch at Panera everyday.  So she takes the bus and maybe she didn’t have much left after her bills were paid, but I doubt she had the slightest idea of what poor is really like.  I was fuming.  I wanted to say something, but then I started to feel bad for her.  How sad it must be, to live life with such little gratitude.  A day or two after that, I was working with another employee when her boyfriend came in to pick her up.  He walked in with this smile on his scruffy face and his hands stuffed in the pockets of his over-sized hoodie.  Within seconds he pulled a can from each pocket.  I was thrilled. “Peas, and… green beans!”  “That’s so great!”  I still light up thinking about it today.  It may seem like a small thing- just two cans- but it was more about the gesture and the willingness to help out.  Those two cans gave me hope that maybe I can influence others to join in the cause one day, whatever that cause may be.

Like I said, some things you just have to have a heart for.  And I can’t expect everyone- or anyone for that matter- to have the same heart as I have.  More to that point, everyone is meant to serve in different ways.  For some it could mean always being the supportive and dependable friend or being the family member whose home is always open if someone needs a place to stay.  I have deep respect for people like that, sometimes they have a bigger impact than they realize.  At the end of the day, it’s all about putting others first.  That’s what the families in Inside Out Families set out to do.  Their motivation came from within but the impact they made was far reaching.  The interesting thing about that though, is that the biggest impact they made was on themselves.  People that devote their lives to others aren’t necessarily better than the rest of us, but they probably are the happiest.

Almost invariably, a runner’s pace will be faster on race day than it was during their training.  They call this “race day magic.”  Maybe it’s the excitement of the day or the camaraderie of the other runners or maybe the competitiveness of it.  Whatever it is, it is kind of magical.  It makes a person realize they are capable of more than they gave themselves credit for. And for many of us, pushing our limits physically teaches us to push our limits in other aspects of our lives.  Just another one of the many reasons to love running.  However, we must remember not to get so focused on the end result that we miss out on the magic as it’s happening.  Okay, so maybe you already know this.  But do you know what that magic is exactly or how to recognize it?  It’s the excitement, the nervous butterflies, and it’s also all those little moments that speak to our hearts for one reason or another.

An incredible thing that happens during a really great run is that your body, mind, and soul connect on a very deep level. When you’re pushing your physical limits, your mind and heart can’t help but follow suit.  This unlocks the most real, raw, and insightful version of yourself.  It’s truly amazing.  Suddenly you pay attention to what grabs your attention.  And that’s when you can discern the magic.  Here’s what I mean; during the Great Race on Sunday I had a thousand thoughts run through my head but only a percentage of those that I really committed to memory.  I remember forgetting sun block. I remember the sun feeling like fire on my face but feeling like I was catching fire every time I sprinted down hill. I remember having to maneuver through the runners and giggling because it made me think of my nephew playing Mario Kart. I remember seeing the crowd cheering and waving signs for their loved ones.  That struck me the most.  Despite the heat and the pain from my heel spur, these sweet displays of support made me smile.  Those are magic moments.  And this doesn’t have to happen just on race day.  You know, magic happens to us every day but we often take it for granted.

For my job I occasionally get to work at PNC park which I absolutely love.  When a friend asked me how I liked working there, I couldn’t help but be completely honest.  “It might sound overly sentimental, but it still gives me butterflies.  I know it’s work and they’re just mowing the lawn down there at that time, but I can’t help it.” It’s a cocktail of excitement and nostalgia and it’s intoxicating.  Now the Pirates aren’t exactly known for their winning seasons and I’ve been frustrated by them many times, but I don’t let that taint the good memories of going to games with my family and friends.  I embrace those butterflies like a wide-eyed ten year old.  And why not?  There’s enough in this world that can make you jaded.  In any day there’s a thousand things we can think about, both bad and good.  It’s up to us where we let our thoughts linger.

On my way home on Sunday my mind wandered through the events of the race.  Did I start too slow? Could I shave another 2 minutes from my time? Ugh, I should’ve stayed for Smiley cookies!  At some point I drove past an enormous  field of dandelions and purple and yellow wildflowers. It was the kind of scene that can make your heart flutter a little. It grabbed my attention just briefly until my mind shifted back to the race.  But then I looked out my window at the field again and cleared my thoughts.  I took a breath and let my heart be at peace for a few seconds longer.  I wondered how often we let this happen.  We pass over these little moments instead of letting them sink in. I read somewhere that it’s important to live in the present moment. I guess I never fully understood what that meant until now.  The best thing we can do is to take notice of even the smallest things that make us happy.  Hold onto the good moments and let them add up.  Most importantly, be grateful for all of the moments big or small.  Because that’s the key to unleashing the magic.

This is dedicated to my uncle Abelardo “Abby” Estrada who would have turned 72 tomorrow.  Abby just loved super heroes because he believed in the good in the world. For teaching me that lesson, he was my hero.

At this point, I’m sure everyone has heard about J.J. Watt and his generous donations to the victims of Hurricane Harvey.  He led fundraising efforts that amassed $30 million and through his foundation, filled several semi trucks with relief supplies.  He and his teammates also took time out to visit some of the families that were devastated by the hurricane.  I started this week prepared to write about Pittsburgh and it’s heroes, but after watching highlights from the Texas v. Jacksonville game on Sunday, I felt compelled to mention J.J. Watt.  Plus, I mean, J.J. Watt…

Okay, let me get back on track.  What makes people like J.J. heroic is about much more than the amount of money they raise.  It’s about the desire to impact others in a positive way.  A person doesn’t necessarily have to donate millions or put themselves in harms way to rescue someone from a burning building.  I’m not discounting these worthy feats and I do believe that an important element of heroism requires one to break out of their comfort zone.  I’m talking about real life heroics.  It’s doing the hard work, making the difficult choice, being an advocate for right, setting a good example, and most fundamentally, showing up.  Being present- physically, mentally, emotionally- is probably the most important and most neglected part of being a hero.

When we talk about athletes making a difference, Mario Lemieux, is someone that quickly comes to mind for the people of Pittsburgh.  This is the main reason that I get so excited to run the Mario Lemieux Foundation 6.6k.  In some way it makes me feel connected to this legendary player and what he stands for.  The 6.6k raises funds for the Pittsburgh Penguins Foundation as well as the Mario Lemieux Foundation.  The Pittsburgh Penguins Foundation supports and promotes activities that encourage the physical and emotional well being of the community’s youth.  The Mario Lemieux Foundation raises funds for research and treatment for Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.  Lemieux was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Disease during his 1993 season.  The diagnosis came on January 12, at which point he began undergoing radiation treatments.  On Mar 2, the same day of his last treatment “Super Mario” returned to the ice in Philadelphia amid emphatic cheers from Flyers fans. In that game he scored a goal and earned an assist. In the next two games he scored four goals each. That is showing up.  Just think about the incredible impact it must have on a child, to see their favorite player exhibit such determination.  Resiliency defined most of Mario’s career as he often battled back pain to maintain an extremely successful career until 1997 when he retired.

…And decided to un-retire in 2000. This was around the time that I started following the sport.  I was a junior in college and my best friend was a huge hockey fan. Well… She was actually more of a huge Mario fan.  And me, I sort of had a thing for Darius Kasparitus. Many a night was spent walking 9 blocks to our favorite dive bar, even in the dead of winter, to watch the game.  Now this was before giant flat screens and HDTV, so sometimes it was difficult to follow the puck on that regular old box television.  We enjoyed it just the same.  We always ordered Woodchuck Ciders and took turns paying (yes, they served me even though I was only 20 and probably looked 13). We drank our ciders while she waited for a Lemieux hat trick and I hoped for a Kasparitus fight.

I may always perplex people with my taste in men, but my friend had every good reason to love Lemieux. There’s so much more to admire than just his good looks and hockey skills.  It has everything to do with his heart of gold.  Before he returned to the game in 2000, he was already an owner of the Penguins.  This serves to prove his loyalty and dedication to the team. The same team he earned over 1,700 points for. And since 1998, The Mario Lemieux Foundation has raised over $23 million for cancer research. In addition to his foundation, he and his wife Nathalie also created the Austin’s Playroom Project. This equips hospitals with playrooms for children whose siblings are being hospitalized. It was their vision to make hospitals more inviting and engaging for young children.

I understand that most of us don’t have the means to contribute millions or even thousands of dollars to a cause. That’s not the point.  The true essence of heroism is having a community minded spirit, believing in the greater good and spreading that message.  Currently, runners only have to pay a $41 registration fee for the 6.6k.  That’s not much.  But multiplying that $41 by the thousands of runners that sign up, that’s certainly  more significant. And realizing we’re all just a small part of something much bigger, well then, that’s monumental.

This is an amazing picture.  Although it does give me just a little bit of anxiety.  I don’t like huge races and I hate large crowds.  But as I mentioned before, I love my city.  Not like- love, love -love.  Well truthfully, I don’t think I’m capable of feeling lukewarm about anything. To my own detriment. (Sigh).  But in this case, I know I’m not alone in my sentiments.  Pittsburgh really does have a lot of character.  The breathtaking skyline, sunny yellow bridges, murky brown rivers, The Terrible Towel, fries in the sandwiches, cookie tables, and Sally Wiggin.  I just love it all.  It’s a city that’s proud, but not pretentious, hard working and gritty, but warm and inviting, it embraces diversity and progress while still cherishing traditions.  It’s because of my love for this city that I will brave that dreadful crowd to participate in one of its long-standing traditions.

This year marks the 40th anniversary of the City of Pittsburgh Great Race, established in 1977 by mayor Richard S. Caliguiri.  Mayor Caliguiri was one of those true Pittsburghers that felt a deep pride for the city and a strong connection to the people here.  As mayor he helped restart the stalling economy.  He initiated the Renaissance II project which resulted in the construction of One Oxford Center, PPG place, and the BNY Mellon building.  In addition to creating thousands of jobs, he was in a very real way responsible for reshaping that beautiful skyline.  He was known as a great leader and a good listener.  He paid attention when the people of Pittsburgh spoke up and genuinely cared about improving the city.  He was the type of politician that all politicians should be but few actually are.

 Caliguiri suffered from Amyloidosis, a rare and serious protein disease.  If you’re like me you’ve probably heard little to nothing about Amyloidosis before.  That’s one reason I started this site, to discuss and raise awareness of the different causes out there (to all 5 of you that will actually read this!).  In this disease, protein build-ups attack vital organs like the heart, liver, and kidneys. This attack can cause symptoms such as fatigue, weight loss, numbness of extremities, and often eventually organ failure.  There are several different types of the disease each targeting different organs and approximately 4,500 new cases diagnosed each year. There are treatments but no known cure as of yet. That’s why research is so important.  And that’s why the Great Race donates $1.00 from every entrant to Amyloidosis research.  You can visit http://www.amyloidosis.org to learn more or make a donation.  In 1988, during Caliguiri’s third term, he succumbed to cardiac complications as a result of the disease. His heart failed in one way, but in a more profound way it served him by creating in him a character to admire.  No doubt he is fondly remembered by many.

So on the last Sunday in September, some 16,000 participants will line up at Frick Park to run for a good cause.  I’m not sure how many of the runners actually realize the potential good they may be doing for so many others.  But just the same, the Great Race serves to commemorate a great man’s legacy.  I’ve placed Richard Caliguiri on my list of Pittsburgh heroes.  In my biased opinion, I’d like to think that the vibe of this city helps to breed heroism.  I’m going to save my story about Pittsburgh heroes for the next race. In the meantime, I’m all signed up to join the 16,000 and run some of my favorite spots in Pittsburgh!  If you want to try pick me out in the pics, I’ll probably be wearing black and gold.

I realize I have yet to post about a race that I’ve actually run. That was the main purpose behind this blog site after all,  so I would like to start with a story about the first big race that I entered.  It was the Pocono Lake Region Half Marathon.  I refer to it as a “big” race because at that point, 13 miles was the farthest I’d run.  It was also the farthest I’d traveled for a race.  It was a 5 1/2 hour drive. The half-marathon raised funds for the Pocono Lake Region of Chamber of Commerce.  This is certainly a worthy cause and it truly is a beautiful area. I mean, heck, if you’re from rural  Pennsylvania, you know that all parents of 80’s kids honeymooned in the Poconos.  Now-a-days newlyweds go to places like Aruba and Cancun. So I’m all about promoting this often overlooked land of romance-inspiring nature.  But I have to admit, I’m a Pittsburgh girl at heart. I feel it in my core.  So in a way, I felt like I was betraying my city.  And honestly, every time I think back on this race, the same resounding themes come to mind.  In this case, rather than speak about the particular charity, I’m going to let the story unfold the way it wants to naturally.  Because that’s another lesson running will teach you.  You can map out your route, but you can’t plan for the rock in your path that might trip you up. No matter what, every run is going to be different and every one’s run is going to be different. Everyone’s path is unique.

This race was the perfect example of that. Until this point, I had only entered one or two 5ks with a friend of mine.  She had just caught the running bug and I joined her for moral support.  Although, if it hadn’t been for her I wouldn’t have had the courage to enter any races at all.  And even then, I needed a nudge.  That nudge came in the form of my then-boyfriend’s well-meaning impatience  “just sign up already!” He was sitting next to me on his bed as I stared into my lap top poring over the race’s website.  At that point, my long runs were already 11 or 12 miles and I had been talking about entering a race for some time. I tend to mull over things for too long. He was right. I nodded “Okay.” I clicked confirm before I could think myself out of it.

It was the end of September and the perfect time of year for a long road trip.  My ex did most of the driving as I gazed out the window at the tree-lined hills, green, gold, red, and orange. It looked like a Bob Ross painting.  I was filled with pure contentment and nervous excitement.   The day before the race was spent exploring the area and eating pasta for dinner at a local restaurant. The morning of the race was crisp and chilly.  We drove through dark fog to the local high school where the race was to begin and end.  The eeriness of it added to my anticipation.  Daylight slowly broke as the runners waited inside the school.  I looked around at all these athletic bodies chatting and stretching in their reflective jackets and neon sneakers.  Most of them had high tech GPS watches and some even wore utility belts for water and electrolyte gels. My jitters suddenly gave way to dread and my heart dropped to my stomach.  What the hell am I doing here?  I was wearing a purple zip up that I bought with some Kohl’s Cash and sneakers that were already getting worn out near my pinky toe. No gadgets, no compression socks. Maybe it wasn’t too late to back out. We’ll go back to the hotel, get another hour of sleep, have a nice breakfast and just go home.  But there was no backing down, runners were already making their way to the starting line.  I just remember thinking, I hope I’m not last, please don’t let me be last.

I started the race near the back where I thought I’d end up.  I’d read an article about warming up that said if you don’t feel like you’re going too slow for the first two miles, then you’re actually going too fast.  So that’s how I started out. I took a few deep breaths of the country air as I ran past a lake and a field of cows.  The sun warmed up pretty quickly.  As the race wore on and I sped up, I couldn’t help but notice that I was passing a lot of the runners that I’d been intimidated by earlier.  And every once in a while we’d pass spectators clapping and clanging cow bells.  I remember in particular a lady yelling out her window to cheer us on.  It didn’t take long for me to feel my giddiness again. I even finished the race a few minutes faster than I thought I would.

In the end, it doesn’t matter what my time was or how I placed.  What’s more important is the insight it gave me.  We all ran the same course and ran the same distance, but everyone’s race was different.  Some of us need a GPS to guide us and some need to hear the cheers of spectators to keep us going. Some of us keep a steady pace and some start slow and finish strong. The same is true for life. Some of us realize our dreams at 22 and some are still discovering new things about ourselves well into our 50s. It is natural to want to compare ourselves to others but we shouldn’t let it drain our confidence.  We should only be in competition with ourselves to continually improve.  Most importantly, we should embrace our unique paths and revel in the fact that our race is not like anyone else’s.