Author Archives: lauholder

Jan 07 2013
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love muffins

This week the seniors took the General Ordination Exams.  Seven 3-hour exams over 4 days time.  It’s pretty brutal–both because of the schedule and because (like any comprehensive exam) the amount of material covered is daunting.  I mean, the church as been around for a while… so there’s that.

Each year, the Juniors and Middlers (and some lovely spartners & staff!) chip in to make sure the Seniors are fed and cared for during this grueling time.  It’s pretty special.  This year I decided to make a different kind of muffin for each morning. The first round (peanut-butter) were not so special.  But rounds 2-4 were yummy enough to share with the broader public.  Enjoy!

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rounds 2, 3 & 4 (because round 1 sucked)

Banana Nut Muffins: This recipe is a special one.  It comes from a cafe in Lubbock, Texas that has since closed.  My mom asked the owner for the recipe before we moved to Virginia, but she refused.  A few weeks later, Mom was sitting in the cafe for the last time when the owner slipped a piece of paper under Mom’s plate.  Mom walked out, unfolded the slip, and found this:

  • 1 ½ cup whole wheat pastry flour
  • ¼ cup wheat bran
  • 1 teaspoon cinnamon
  • 2 teaspoons baking powder
  • ½ teaspoon baking soda
  • ¼ teaspoon salt
  • ½ cup chopped nuts
  • ¼ cup oil
  • ½ cup honey
  • ¾ teaspoon vanilla
  • 1 cup bananas (2-3) mashed
  • 1 lightly beaten egg

Mix wet ingredients together, then add to dry ingredients mixing only
until incorporated.  Bake at 350 for 20 to 25 minutes

The only changes I make to this recipe are: instead of bran I use a mix of oats and almond meal… and instead of oil I often use yogurt, apple sauce, or coconut oil, depending on what I have. 

Cranberry Walnut Muffins (Modified from this recipe…)

  • 1 egg
  • 1 cup greek yogurt
  • 1/4 cup oil
  • 1 1/2 cups oats and almond meal (for nutty texture)
  • 1/2 cup craisins
  • 1/2 cup walnuts
  • 1 1/4 cup flour
  • 2/3 cup brown sugar
  • 1 1/4 teaspoons baking soda
  • 1/4 teaspoon table salt
  • 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg

Mix wet ingredients together, then add to dry ingredients mixing only
until incorporated.  Bake at 375F for 20 minutes.

And my favorite new find: Chocolate Banana Muffins (Modified from this recipe…)

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this will be a new “standard” in the holder house

  • 2 large bananas
  • 2/3 cup granulated sugar (I used mostly honey and some sugar)
  • 1 large egg
  • 1/3 cup coconut oil
  • 1/2 cup whole-wheat flour
  • 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
  • 1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1 teaspoon baking powder
  • 1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips, plus more for topping

Mix wet ingredients together, then add to dry ingredients mixing only
until incorporated.  If batter doesn’t seem wet enough (like because I used 2 bananas when it called for 3) add some greek yogurt.  Bake at 375F for 20 minutes.

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Dec 23 2012
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whisper words of wisdom

This was my first time preaching in the parish I grew up in as a teenager.  It was especially meaningful to see so many familiar faces, as many people are already home for Christmas.  It was also a perk to see my college New Testament professor on the front row, which reminded me that I once wrote an exegesis on this same passage for her class… and got a bad grade.  She challenged me to look for something more–and I am grateful!  Only downside was my lack of voice.  Despite being the first to bed Saturday night, cups and cups of tea, and lots of TLC… I could barely get out a whisper.  The Rev. Tom Crittenden could not have been a more gracious host, especially under the quiet circumstances.  I hope to come back–next time in “voz alta!”

From http://artsandfaith.com/index.php?showtopic=20124

Fourth Sunday of Advent, Preached at R. E. Lee Memorial Episcopal Church, Lexington, VA

Micah 5:2-5a   *  Hebrews 10:5-10  *  Luke 1:39-55

Oh Lord, uphold thou me that I may uplift thee.  Amen. 

Several weeks ago, when I peaked at the lectionary for the fourth Sunday of Advent to see what I might be preaching on in my childhood parish, I could not help but sing as I opened to Luke’s Gospel.  “My soul doth magnify the Lord…” You see, where I live and worship at seminary, this is a text we sing every evening in chapel.

Immediately, I started thinking of all the cool things I could say about Mary.  How Mary has been depicted in art—from the most grandiose of stained glass windows, to the simplest of roadside shrines.  How Mary has been depicted in music—from Bach’s Magnificat to The Beatle’s Let it be.  All the many ways we encounter Mary in our day-to-day life, and how or why that is.

But then I paused, and realized I was getting carried away.  For if we look at Mary’s words in Luke’s gospel today, we see that every note she sings points not to herself, but to God.  And if we consider that we are a mere two days away from celebrating the birth of Christ, and a mere nine days away from the bloodshed of innocent children and teachers in Sandy Hook—what then do the words in today’s scripture offer us in this moment, now.

We started this morning with words from Micah—a prophet before Jesus’ time.  He says of the coming ruler: “he shall stand and feed his flock in the strength of the Lord…and they shall live secure… and he shall be the one of peace.”  Is this not what we are longing for in this season of Advent and in this time of grief and bewilderment?  Do we not long to be fed, to be strengthened, to be secure—do we not long for peace?  Indeed I believe this to be the cry of our hearts, even as we have cried real tears this week.

And yet, do we believe in this “one of peace” that Micah promises?  We see the word “believe” a lot this time of year.  “Believe” is written across Christmas cards and even across the Macy’s building in New York City.  Depending on whom you ask, the word could be used to describe our desired relationship with Jesus, Santa or both.  Believe.

This is where Mary comes in.  This is where she speaks to us.  It is her response that teaches us how to respond to the events of our lives and to the coming Christ.

When Elizabeth greets Mary she exclaims, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.”  Elizabeth explains her proclamation a bit more when she says, “Blessed is she who believed.”

You all know the story that directly precedes this exchange.  There was young Mary, minding her own business, when the angel of the Lord, Gabriel, came to her and said, “Surprise!  You have found favor with the Lord, and you’re going to have a son, and you’re going to name him Jesus, and he’s going to be the Son of God.”

And blessed, lowly, young Mary responded: “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”

Wow.  Wow!  Blessed is she who believed indeed!  Here am I.  Let it be.  Quite possibly the bravest words ever spoken by a young girl.

You know my favorite thing about these words?  That they were spoken at all.  Mary is a self-proclaimed servant of the Lord.  The Greek word for servant used here is ἡ δούλη and can also be translated as handmaid or slave.  In other words, Mary didn’t have to say anything at all.  You could argue that she had no choice but to be obedient.  But Mary speaks!  She responds.  She asserts her own agency in the Christmas story.  Here I am, let it be.  Simple, yet powerful words.

Now that we’ve reviewed why it is that Elizabeth calls Mary blessed, let’s see what we can learn from Mary’s song that follows.

Mary exclaims, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.” The words used for soul and spirit, ψυχή and πνεῦμά are used interchangeably throughout the bible and both derive their meaning from the idea of moving air, like breathing. ψυχή and πνεῦμά are not used to connote different parts of our being, but the whole of our being. That which animates us and makes us ourselves is that which rejoices within Mary.

It is the same beingness in Mary that magnifies the Lord.  To magnify is to exult or make great. It is as if Mary’s soul, Mary’s being, is making God bigger. And indeed as Mary’s belly grows with the gestating Son of God, one cannot help but acknowledge the magnification.

While Mary realizes that all generations shall call her blessed, she immediately points to God as the cause of blessing: “for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name.” It is God’s might, God’s deeds, God’s mercy, and God’s strength that Mary exults.  This points to Mary’s humility, contrary to “the proud in the imagination of their hearts” that God scatters. If anyone could “imagine” herself proud, surely it would be the mother of God.  And yet Mary says, no, it is God who deserves the glory.

So how do Mary’s responses of “Here I am… Let it be… Glory to God…” how do they inform our response in this very strange and special moment we find ourselves in?

I think the “Here I am” calls us to be in the present.  It’s not a “Wait just a sec…” or “Were you saying something?” or “I’ll be right with you…” but I’m here.  Right here.  And I’m listening.

The “Let it be” may sound a bit passive, but it’s not.  It would be passive to say nothing at all.  The “Let it be” calls us to believe.  It calls us to acknowledge that which seems crazy and foolish and indescribable and unbelievable—to realize the absurdity of God making Godself a vulnerable, nursing child—to realize the absurdity of a maimed and broken King rising to victory over death—to realize the absurdity of God seeking out the lowly, seeking out us, to make God’s presence bigger and magnified in the world—to look at all of that together and say “Let it be…” I believe.

To believe is a tall order.  And it’s Mary’s “Glory to God” that shows us how to bridge the gap between knowledge and faith.  Mary looks on her own lowliness and seems to say, “I know it’s crazy… but look at God.  Look at all God has done and is doing.”

Did you notice all of Mary’s acclamations are in the past tense?  She’s already living into the promises—God has done great things, God has shown strength, God has scattered the proud and lifted up the lowly, God has fed the hungry.  Not “God will” but “God has.”  The God Mary points to is not far off in the distance, but right there with her.  Because Mary knows she needs God to be with her if she is to have the courage to believe, and we need the same.  Emmanuel.  God with us.

For nine days we have mourned the nonsense of lost little ones.  In two days we’ll celebrate the nonsense of God with skin on.  The vulnerability of these two moments is not lost on us.  And it’s hard to know how to respond.

But we look to Mary today, and we hear her response.  And it is my prayer that we will find in Mary’s song the courage to sing our own song of: Here I am… Let it be… Glory to God.

Amen.

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Dec 03 2012
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Empezando Con El Fin: Jesús Al Revés

Primer Domingo De Adviento, Iglesia de San Mateo & San Timoteo, Nueva York

Jeremías 33,14-16  *  Salmo 24  *  1 Tesalonicenses 3,12–4,2  *  San Lucas 21,25-28.34-36

¡Ya llegó!  ¡Ya llegó!  Finalmente ya está aquí.  La estación que esperamos, el tiempo de anhelo.  Aquí estamos en el primer domingo de Adviento, el comienzo de un año nuevo en la iglesia.  Quizás piensan que el evangelio que leemos hoy debería haber dicho algo como: ¡Estén listos—un niño viene quien va a cambiar el mundo!  En vez de eso, tenemos a Jesús hablando, como hombre, sobre el fin de tiempo.  ¿Por qué empezamos con el fin?  Es como leer la última página de un libro antes de mirar al capítulo uno.

Este es el punto de Adviento: Estamos preparando el camino del Señor.  Cantamos, “Oh ven, oh ven, Emanuel”  Miramos a nuestros calendarios de Adviento en expectativa del Cristo que viene (yo prefiero los calendarios con los chocolates para comer cada día).  Pero la manera mejor de prepararse para Cristo, ya sea la primera venida o la segunda, es estar presente.  Jesús nos dice en el evangelio de San Lucas: hay que vivir en el presente.  Y esas palabras son tan verdaderas cuando nos preparamos para la Navidad como cuando nos preparamos para el fin del tiempo también.

¿Qué, exactamente es esta idea del fin de los tiempos?  Cuando Jesús dice, “La gente se desmayará de miedo al pensar en lo que va a sucederle al mundo,” Jesús habla de un tipo específico del mundo.  No es el mundo en general—la palabra en el Griego es kosmos.  Pero la palabra en Griego que se usa aquí es ouikoumene, que se refiere específicamente al mundo económico y político.  Es casi como si Jesús estuviese aquí in este momento exacto, hablando a nosotros.  Jesús no está gritando, “!Es el fin del mundo!” Pero dice, “Es el fin del mundo como lo conocemos.”

En los tiempos de Jesús, Roma era el opresor del que todos querían ser libre.  Nuestra lección de Jeremías también indica los varios opresores de esa época en Jerusalén.  Y a nosotros, ¿Qué nos oprime?  ¿de que deseamos ser libre?  Quizás dificultades económicas y disturbios políticos como en el día de Jesús y Jeremías?  Claro.  ¿Qué más deseamos y esperamos?  ¿Igualdad y justicia social?  ¿Curación en nuestro mundo, nuestra iglesia y nuestros cuerpos?  ¿Restablecimiento de las relaciones y el amor?  ¿Quizás deseamos algo tan simple como una hora adicional de dormir, o bien tiempo para ponerse al día en el trabajo?

La cosa interesante del anhelo es que nunca nos deja.  Aún si obtenemos lo que deseamos, otra idea o persona o cosa captura nuestro anhelo otra vez.  Hace dos años, estaba predicando durante Adviento en mi iglesia, y mencioné como yo añoraba que mi novio pidiera mi mano en matrimonio.  Pues, él lo hizo.  Y yo fui desde ese deseo de ser comprometida al anhelo de estar casada.  Y ahora, como somos casados, deseo tener hijos.  Siempre hay algo,  ¿verdad?

No es fácil estar presente cuando hay tanto que anhelar.  Jesús lo entiende.

Adviento es el tiempo de anhelo.  Verdad.  Y empezamos este tiempo hoy con las palabras de Jesús: “Tengan cuidado y no dejen que sus corazones se hagan insensibles por los vicios, las borracheras y las preocupaciones de esta vida…Estén ustedes preparados.” Prepárense por la mañana prestando atención hoy.  No dejen que su anhelo por el regreso de Cristo interrumpa su mirada en la presencia de Cristo en este momento, ahora.

Jesús nos dice que la venida del Señor será obvia.  Que nadie necesita mostrárnosla, pero que la reconoceremos por nosotros mismos, casi como los brotes en los árboles que significan que el verano  viene, y las hojas que caen de los árboles que significan que el invierno viene.

Pues, ¿lo ves?  ¿Ves los signos de Cristo que están presente en tu vida?  ¿Ves el reino de Dios en tu mundo?  O quizás nuestro anhelo por lo que viene nos impide ver lo que ya ha llegado.

Eso es lo que Adviento significa.  Estamos preparándonos para el fin del tiempo a la misma vez que nos preparamos para el nacimiento de Cristo porque vivimos en el espacio entre las dos llegadas—vivimos en la tensión que abarca lo que ha sido y lo que está por venir.  Vivimos en el presente.  Y Jesús nos recuerda y nos enseña y nos invita a vivir en el presente para que no faltemos a lo que esperamos.

¿Quieres estar listo?  Pues, “amínense y levanten la cabeza,” dice Jesús, “porque muy pronto serán libertados.”  No se siente allí en sueño, anímense y levanten la cabeza.

Has visto algunos de los cruzados en nuestra ciudad, usualmente en las calles más anchas con los paseos de bicicletas, algunas tienen la palabra “LOOK”  “MIRA” pintado entre las rayas blancas.  Yo imagino que esas palabras existan para captar la atención de la gente que camina mirando a sus pies, ignorantes de con qué ellos podrían toparse o lo que podría toparse con ellos.  Pero para mí, la palabra “MIRA” pintado en la calle tiene el efecto opuesto.  Uno de esos cruzados está en frente del Hospital Bellevue donde yo trabajé este verano.  Más de una vez yo fui casi golpeada por un coche que da vuelta o por una ciclista porque la palabra “MIRA” captó mi atención, hasta que me olvidé mirar.

Jesús dice, “amínense y levanten la cabeza.”  Él dice, “pueden ver por si mismo.”  Él dice, “Estén preparados en cada momento.”

Jesús dice, “cuando vean que suceden estas cosas, sepan que el reino de Dios ya está cerca.”  El reino de Dios ya está cerca!  El reino de Dios estuvo presente cuando Dios se encarnó en el hombre de Jesús hace más de dos mil años pasado.  Y el reino de Dios reinará cuando el mundo como lo conocemos termina.  Pero el reino de Dios no solo existe en el pasado o en el futuro—¡el reino de Dios ya está cerca!  ¡Está aquí en el presente, con nosotros, atrapado entre lo que ha sido y lo que está por venir.

Sabemos el comienzo de la historia—conocemos el fin.  Nosotros vivimos en la tensión entre los dos, vivimos en el presente, vivimos en esperanza, vivimos en anhelo.  Amínense! Levanten la cabeza!  El reino de Dios ya está cerca.

[English Translation]

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Dec 02 2012
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Beginning at the End: Jesus in Reverse

First Sunday of Advent, Preached at St. Matthew & St. Timothy Church, New York City

Jeremiah 33:14-16  *  Psalm 25:1-10  *  1 Thessalonians 3:9-13  *  Luke 21:25-26

It’s here!  It’s here!  It’s finally here!  The season we’ve all been longing for—the season, in fact, of longing.  Here we are in the first Sunday of Advent, the start of a new church year.  You might think our Gospel reading would say something along the lines of: get ready—a baby is about to be born who is going to change the world!  Instead we have Jesus speaking, as a grown man, about the end of times.  Why are we starting at the end?  It’s like reading the last page of a book before even looking at Chapter 1.

Here’s the thing about Advent.  We are preparing the way of the Lord.  We are singing, Oh Come, Oh Come, Emmanuel.  We are checking our advent calendars in expectation of the coming of Christ (I prefer the kind with different chocolate shapes to eat each day).  But the best way to prepare for the coming of Christ, whether it’s the first coming or the second, is to be present.  Jesus tells us in Luke’s Gospel to live in the present—and those words ring just as true as we prepare for Christmas as they do in preparation for the end of time.

What exactly is this “end of times” notion?  When Jesus says, “People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world,” Jesus is speaking of a certain kind of world.  Not just the world in general—the Greek word for that is kosmos.  But the Greek word used here is ouikoumene, which refers more specifically to the economic and political world.  Gosh, you’d almost think that Jesus was right here in this room speaking to us today.  Jesus isn’t shouting, “It’s the end of the world!”  He’s saying, “It’s the end of the world as we know it.”

In Jesus’ time, Rome was the oppressor everyone longed to be free from.  Our reading from Jeremiah likewise points to the various powers of oppression that ruled over Jerusalem.  What is it that oppresses us?  What is it that we long to be freed from?  Is it economic hardship and political unrest, like in Jesus and Jeremiah’s day?  Sure.  What else do we long for?  Social justice and equality?  Healing in our world, church, and bodies?  Restored relationships and love?  Or do we long for something as simple as an extra hour of sleep or a few days to catch up on life and work?

The funny thing about longing is that it never goes away.  Even if we attain what it is we long for, another idea or person or thing soon captures our longing once again.  Two years ago I was preaching during Advent, and I mentioned how I was longing for my boyfriend at the time to ask my hand in marriage.  Well he did, and I went from longing to be engaged to longing to me married.  And now that we’re married I long to have kids.  It’s always something, isn’t it?

It’s hard to be present when there is so much to long for.  Jesus gets that.

Advent is a season of longing.  True.  And we start that season off today with Jesus’ words: “Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life… Be alert at all times.”  Prepare for tomorrow by paying attention today.  Don’t let your longing for the coming of Christ get in the way of you seeing Christ’s presence in the here and now.

Jesus tells us that the coming of the Lord will be plain as day.  That no one will have to point it out to us, but that we will recognize it for ourselves, just as surely as we know that the buds on the trees signify the coming summer, and the leaves falling off the trees signify the coming winter.

Well… do you? Do you see the signs of Christ present in your life?  Do you see glimpses of the kingdom of God in your every day world?  Or does our longing for what is to come keep us from seeing that which is already here?

That is what Advent is really about.  We are preparing for the end of times even as we prepare for the birth of Christ because we live in that space in between—we live in the tension that spans what has been and what is yet to come.  We live in the present.  And Jesus reminds us and teaches us and exhorts us to live in the present so that we do not miss that which we hope and long for.

You want to be ready?  Well then, “stand up and raise your heads,” Jesus says, “ because your redemption is drawing near.”  Don’t sit there and day dream—stand up and raise your heads.

Have you seen how some of the crosswalks in the city, usually ones on a wider street with a bike path, some of them have the word “LOOK” painted right there in the stripes as you’re stepping off the curb?  Well I imagine these words are meant to grab the attention of people looking down, perhaps texting on their phones as they walk, oblivious of what they might run into or what might run into them.  But I find that the word “LOOK” painted on the crosswalk has the opposite effect on me.  One such crosswalk happens to be on First Avenue, right out in front of Bellevue Hospital where I worked this summer.  On more than one occasion I was nearly hit by a turning car or a cyclist simply because the word “LOOK” grabbed my attention, so that I forgot to actually look up.

Jesus says, “stand up and raise your heads.”  He says,  “you can see for yourselves.”  He says, “be alert at all times.”

Jesus says, “when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near.”  The kingdom of God is near!  The kingdom of God was present when God became incarnate in the person of Jesus over 2000 years ago.  And the kingdom of God will reign when the world as we know it comes to an end—whenever that will be.  But the kingdom of God is not just way back there in the past or way up there in the future—the kingdom of God is near.  It is right here in the present, right here with us, caught between what has been and what is to come.

We know the beginning of the story—we know the end of the story.  We live in the tension in between, we live in the present, and we live in hope.  Stand up!  Raise your heads! The kingdom of God is near.

Amen.

[Spanish Translation]

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Nov 30 2012
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Marathon Run-down (and up and down and up)

If you want to skip the full race recap, here’s the story: we finished the race (I say “we” because I had a lot of help) in 3:51:50 after raising $6,207 to fight colon cancer in Aimee’s honor.  In other words–WE WON!

And now, for the longer version…

I flew down to Charlotte Thursday night so that I could have Friday to rest up, carb up, and visit friends.  I was especially excited to be staying with my friends Sloan and Jamie and their baby girl Ruthie.  Babies change so fast!  So I spent a lot of time just watching Ruthie play, sleep, eat, and grow.

One day Ruthie will use this picture to argue her way into blue hair, I'm sure.

One day Ruthie will use this picture to argue her way into blue hair.

Friday morning Sloan and I were out the door at 9am, but the expo didn’t open until 10am, so we decided to drive the last 18 miles of the marathon course.  The first thing we noticed was a sign near mile 8 for some girl named “Lauren” to “kick butt.”  I decided to pretend it was for me–even if it wasn’t.

Driving the second half of the course was good because I was only familiar with the first half (which I ran in 2010), but it was a little overwhelming too.  Are we there yet?

Finally, at the expo, we picked up our gear.  Sloan stood in line for the half, I stood in line for the full.  My first full.  Sloan is the girl who got me to sign up for my first 10k after I insisted I could never run 6+ miles, so this was a bit of a role reversal.  I can tell you that Sloan will be running her own full marathon one day, and I hope to be there with her.

It’s no secret that the Thunder Road expo has been going down hill in a town where every race ends up hill.  What used to take up the whole of the convention center now takes up a conference room at a hotel.  It’s sad.  Charlotte has a great running community and beautiful streets to run on, but not much corporate backing or city support.  I bought a shirt that said “flat is for sissies” and we moved on… only to be charged $5 for parking as we left.  Seems the Queen City needs to work on her charm!

I hit up the weekly runners’ lunch at Burger Co. next.  Like I said, Charlotte has a great running community.  And the fact that I can show up at noon on any given Friday and find a table full of runners chowing down is proof of that.  It was good to catch up with some old faces and meet some new ones.

Next I dropped off “Team LAUREN & Aimee” t-shirts with Aimee’s husband John and daughter Katie.  John and Katie flew up to NYC two weeks ago for the marathon-that-wasn’t.  They caught 4 shows in 3 days, so it was a successful weekend despite the lack of marathoning.  It was a special treat to see them twice in 2 weeks.  Back in the day I would see Aimee every day at work, John every week at church, and the girls 1-2 times a week between church and weekly coffee dates.  You could say I miss them a lot.

Back at Sloan’s I finished off a muffin and took a little nap.  We played with Ruthie until it was time for her dinner, followed by bath time–babies love bath time!  Jay called while Ruth was bathing to see if I had eaten properly and to check on how I was feeling.  He said he was meeting up with a teammate at 6:15 the next morning to get his run in before the race start so he could track me online.  We were both pretty upset he couldn’t follow me in person.  Stupid work.

Once Ruthie was down, it was time to feast on fresh spinach pasta from my favorite local pasta spot.  I ate two servings.  Sloan and I decided we’d be safe drinking one glass of red wine.  I’m glad we did because it cut through the nerves and sent me straight to sleep.

I woke up 10 minutes before my 5:45am alarm went off.  I walked downstairs to see Sloan was already making coffee.  We ate some breakfast, took turns going to the bathroom “one more time,” put on our race duds, and hit the road.  Jay called, but was hurried on the phone, “Got to go run!  I’ll be back before you start!”  I turned to Sloan and said, “This is so hard on him.”

Sloan parked 1/2 mile from the start and we jogged over.  We spotted the Westin on the way and decided it would be much warmer to wait in there (not to mention real bathrooms!) until bag check.  Yes–NYRR–even our little marathon down in Charlotte has a bag check.

Then we huddled at the start and I kept seeing people I knew, hugging them, clapping, bouncing, checking to see if my garmin was ready, praying, thinking of Jay, talking to Sloan, finally: BANG.  Or maybe it was a BEEP.  I don’t remember, but we were off.  Sloan had said she wanted to run 9 minute pace, but I thought she could run faster.  I didn’t say so because I didn’t want to pressure her.  I was aiming for 8:47 pace to hit a 3:50 finish.  We knew the first mile was downhill.  We knew we needed to reign it in.  We felt like we were reigning it in.  We ran the first mile in 8:03.  Oops!  The next few miles were also fast: 8:29, 8:20, 8:24–Sloan stayed with me the whole time.  We saw Lori and Ashley at mile 2.  Miss Anne at 3.25, followed by Liza and her family.  At mile 3.5 we turned left onto Providence Road, right in front of Christ Church.  There we saw a crowd of people cheering, some holding posters that my kids at St. Matthew & St. Timothy had made.  I saw John and Katie, waved and “YAYed” at everyone, felt the love, and kept moving.  I heard John yell after me, “Kick butt Lauren!”  I gave a thumbs up.

Feeling pretty chipper at mile 2 with Sloanie!

Feeling pretty chipper at mile 2 with Sloanie!

Climbing the long gradual hill up Providence, we slowed to 8:52.  We saw Paul, Lisa, Emily and Sophie at the top before hanging a right.  We winded through Foxcroft, running 8:35, 8:49, 8:48.  During that stretch we saw Tom  and Anne Carol cheering and we crossed the 10k mat together.  Every time I saw a familiar face or heard my name being yelled out, I would turn, smile and wave.  Unbeknownst to Jay, I had sent out a plea to all our friends in Charlotte to send pictures, videos, and updates to Jay.  I wanted him to be inundated with images and words so that he would feel like he was right there.  When I crossed the 10k mat, I thought of Jay at home, looking at his computer, seeing that first split pop up.  I thought, ‘He’s either going to think I’m going too fast, or he’s going to hope I went out with the 3:45 pace group.’

As we exited Foxcroft, Sloan said she was going to hang back, and for me to go on.  She’d run over half her race under her pace, and I was pretty confident she’d finish faster than she thought–but I gave her a challenging nudge to make sure she didn’t lose steam.  She yelled out after me, “Special treat at mile 18!!”  I figured she was talking about the extra Gu’s she’d have to hand me at that point.  I also knew our friend Emily was going to hop in to keep me company at mile 18.  Next 10 miles were just me.

Or so I thought.  At mile 9 (8:31) I saw Jamie and Ruthie, taking pictures, cheering, eager to see their wife/mom Sloan.  I said, “She’s right behind me, she’s running great!” Next I saw Dexter, Eden, Carolyn, I can’t remember everyone.  Love all those friendly Charlotte faces.  Heading down Queens Road to mile 10 (8:38) I was taking in how beautiful the trees are on that familiar stretch… when I noticed a familiar figure wearing familiar orange shorts and a familiar orange hat, sporting a “Team Lauren & Aimee” shirt.  Jay.  All at once I thought, ‘What the HECK??’ and, ‘Well, of course he’s here.’  The crowds were going wild (at least it sounded that way to me) as Jay jumped into the race with me, matching my strides with a huge grin on his face.  Our friends Farrell, Lori, Ashley, Liza, Skye and others were all jumping up and down. The pictures are priceless (thanks to Lori).

Surprise! Jay jumps in at mile 10.

Surprise! Jay jumps in at mile 10.

Jay said, “How are you doing?”

“Okay, a little ahead of pace.  How did you get here?”

“Tara is covering.”

And then Jay told me the whole story of how he and Tara were chatting Friday night while he was working.  She essentially said it’s ridiculous that he couldn’t be in Charlotte to cheer me on (Tara is a marathoner as well) and offered to take his Saturday shift.  So at 7pm Friday night, Jay booked a plane ticket for 6:15 the next morning.  It was a welcome surprise to us both–and most of Charlotte, for that matter, as people who had intended to snag pictures to send to Jay were instead yelling out, “Hey Jay!  You made it!!”  When it comes to the running community in Charlotte, I sometimes feel like I married a local celebrity.

My next few miles with Jay slowed to 8:39, 853, 8:53, 8:40.  At the time I figured I gave myself some slack for the climb up Morehead.  But I think I was also pulling back, worried that I would speed up with Jay (as I often do) and regret it later.  Just before the half-marathon mat, the 3:45 pace group came up from behind us.

Jay said, “You’re in front of the 3:45 pace group!”

“I know.”

“Listen–I want you to run with them Lauren.  If you feel like you can, I want you to match their pace…” and then he started listing off familiar names of people in the group.

“I’m going to stick to my own pace, Jay.  If it were mile 18, maybe.  But 13 is too early for me to chase after them and find I’ve got no gas in the tank later.”

“Ok.  That’s totally fine.”

At this point the group was surrounding us and Jay was chatting it up with everyone.  I hung back, which I think slowed my pace a bit that mile too–my deliberateness.  We saw my dad and Annabelle, waved and smiled, and then Jay dropped out at mile 14 so he could watch some friends finish and make it to various points on the course.

Miles 14-18 were on my own.  They were marked by several things.  First, the half-marthoners were no longer running with us, so the crowd thinned out considerably.  Second, I was actually relieved to have some time to myself since I had barely had two moments to think about what we were actually doing–running a race to honor Aimee’s memory and to fight the disease that killed her.  Third, it started getting really windy.  Like blow-you-over-sideways windy.  I thought, oh, this will pass.  But it didn’t.  The wind kept on coming and coming and coming.  At one point, my Get Your Rear In Gear hat blew off.  I turned to grab it, but it blew further away.  I kept on running.  Seconds later a teenage boy ran up beside me, “Is this your hat?”  I was glad to have it back.  I saw Jay with Tyler and Denise at mile 15 (8:36), Lori and Ashley at mile 16 (8:57), met another New York runner at mile 17 (8:43), and was met with loud cheers at mile 18 (8:48) where Sloan, Jamie, Ruthie, Jocelyn, Liza, and I don’t even know who else were cheering.  Sloan gave me the extra Gu’s I needed to finish the course.  This was apparently where she thought Jay would surprise me (hence her clue that I’d be getting a special treat at mile 18), but he had jumped the gun on that!

My friend Emily jumped in with me at this point, and I would have been lost without her.  Emily and I used to run together every Tuesday.  We have shared joys, sorrows, drama and life lessons over the years.  And I don’t mean that in a “she’s one of my closest friends” kind of way.  Emily and I don’t call each other up and share this stuff.  We only share it when running.  Emily is a running buddy–a special class of friends that all runners have.  Running buddies are people you probably wouldn’t know if you didn’t run together.  They are not just a matter of convenience, things are shared on runs that aren’t shared in other spaces.  There’s something to it, and it’s special.  But the low-maintenance nature of a running buddy relationship lends itself to picking up where you left off, even if you left off 3 months ago.  Emily is dating a really special guy now, one who has been in the picture for a while, so I was eager to hear all her updates while barely having the breath to respond as we fought the headwind on the back course.  We clicked off a 9:03, 8:53, but it was at mile 21 when we clicked a 9:24 that I knew I would not break 3:50.  And I was totally ok with it.  I turned to Em and said, “I feel like we’re running 8:30’s, but we’re at almost 9:30!”  She said, “I know.  You’ve got this.”  And I knew I would finish, even though I didn’t feel like I would finish, in part because Emily said so.

And this is where the marathon is a mental exercise.  This is where you have to be tough.  Because you’re not sure how you’re going to make it to the finish, but you know that you must.  I had some “do it for Aimee” moments in my head, but I otherwise found it hard to think about anything other than putting one foot in front of the other.  I handed off my arm warmers to Liza at mile 22 (9:15), Jay joined us on a bike at mile 23 (9:04).  I said, “Monkey, I’m not going to break 3:50.”  “It’s ok, you’re doing great.”  We ran up Hawthorn hill at mile 24 (9:17), which isn’t as bad as it looks.  At this point I was sick of Gu’s and was craving Gatorade instead–something I never drink on long runs.  We saw Lori and Ashley at mile 25 (9:16), “You’re there!  You did it!  You ran a marathon!”  (They were closer to mile 26 than I’m letting on, and they had also seen me at my worst around mile 22).  I smiled, but didn’t have the energy to wave or cheer, despite what we were about to accomplish.

Emily ducked out at mile 26 (8:13… I always speed up at the end) “It’s all you now.”  And I ran uphill to the finish, since every race in Charlotte must end on an incline, hearing my name, hearing so many voices I couldn’t pick them out… I did see Larry and even managed to give Kathy a weak “high five” as I passed.  But all I remember in those last few steps was watching the yellow leaves pass beneath my feet, thinking I just wanted to get to the finish as fast as I could, realizing why Jay never sees me cheering for him near the end of a marathon (total tunnel vision sets in), and at the last second remembering to throw my hands up as I crossed the mat.

TR finish

Finished! 3:51:50 chip time.

I wasn’t sure what I was going to do or how I was going to feel after I finished, but I didn’t even have time to give it a thought.  As soon as I crossed my friend Caitlin was right beside me, “I just walked in through the barricade!  I just let myself in!  You can’t do that in New York!!” I leaned on her whether I needed to or not.  I just leaned, grateful she was right there in my moment of “what now?”

And then we all got together.  Jay, my dad and Annabelle, Sloan, Jamie and Ruthie, Caitlin and Garrett, and countless Charlotte Runners that have made the Queen City our home.  Jay put my pants on my legs the way I do when he finishes a marathon–the tables had turned.  We walked back toward the car half a mile away.  I called my mom as I walked.  Jay and Sloan kept looking back at my slow-going-wobble and laughed.

I have to say, as grand as finishing my first marathon was, I wasn’t overcome with emotion as I thought I would be.  I had visions of collapsing on the ground in tears.  Maybe that would have happened someplace else, but it was impossible in Charlotte.  I had people like Lori, who was always two weeks ahead of me in training for her first marathon, blazing the way, and then right there on the course (all over the course!) on my race day.  People like Farrell, who picked Jay up from the airport at the last moment, and then ran with her two little kids across the street to cheer me on in the last mile (thank goodness a cop was there stopping traffic!)  People of Christ Church, especially John and Katie, who will always have an Aimee-shaped void in their hearts, even as she continues to live through each of us.  People like Sloan, who are the personification of the ever-cheesy Bette Midler song “Wind Beneath My Wings” because she is always there without making any show of it.  And it wasn’t until I was soaking in Epsom salt after the race, a quiet moment to myself, that this wave of gratitude–for our friends in New York and our friends in Charlotte, my family and my coaches, my husband especially, the cloud of witnesses that brought me across the finish–finally washed over me.

We did it.

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Nov 15 2012
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not ready to finish

I was talking with my Spiritual Director yesterday.  She asked me, “when have you felt closest to Jesus lately?”  It’s not the first time she’s posed this question.  I told her about several recent runs where I felt especially close to God.  It’s not the first time I’ve answered her with running stories.

And that got me thinking–I’m not ready to finish this marathon on Saturday.  I don’t want to finish.

When Aimee died 8 months ago, I grieved a little, but I mostly made sure I was too busy to grieve too much all at once.  Like a runner, I was pacing myself.  But when it came time to train for my first marathon, my grieving moved to the forefront.  I’ve had countless conversations with Aimee while logging hundreds of miles.  I asked her if she was mad about missing Allie’s first college parents’ weekend–and can you be angry in heaven?  I pointed out things to her on my runs that I knew would make her laugh.  I asked a lot of “why’s” and sighed a lot of “Lord have mercy’s.”  I said a lot of “thank you’s” along with “I miss you’s.”

Add to that the overwhelming support I have received in the shape of encouraging words, donations to fight colon cancer, phone calls to check in, teammates and coaches pushing me to new levels… as much grief as I’ve been carrying around, I have felt almost weightless with the help of my friends and Aimee’s friends.  And with the help of Aimee, no doubt.

So I have to say, knowing I should be finishing this thing about 60hrs from now, I’m not ready yet.  I’m scared I’ll feel lonely and sad.  I’m scared I’ll lose Aimee all over again.  And I know it’s going to be an awesome commemoration of an awesome person, made even more special by the fact that I’ll be running with Aimee’s family and friends close by.  I know this is a really good and positive and amazing thing we’ve done together–all of us.  And I know I’ll want to celebrate that.  But I just need to be honest that this is going to be hard.  And I miss my friend.

And I’m going to run my heart out for her.

Nov 06 2012
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Come Hell or High Water

What a week this has been.  This time last week, the winds of Sandy were just starting to really pick up, causing a branch the size of a tree to fall right next to the chapel.  I was lamenting the fact that I had missed my pre-marathon massage–something that had been on my training plan for months.  I had no idea how trivial and selfish my lament would seem just a few hours later, as I watched the Hudson River creep up past the West Side Highway, past 11th and 10th Avenues, nearing the gates of the seminary.  Oh.  Right.  This is big.  The lights went out in Chelsea (and all of Lower Manhattan) around 9pm.  They didn’t come back on for 4 days.  Some are still waiting in the dark.

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Meanwhile, Jay was working “wall-to-wall” as they say in the newsroom.  Because his work needed him to be accessible at all times, they reserved a block of rooms at a hotel across the street from the station.  We never knew what to expect from one day to the next, but I found myself overwhelmed with gratitude again and again for a warm bed, a hot shower, a charged phone, a meal shared with a friend, and an occasional siting of my sweet husband.  Not to mention our community back at the seminary caring for our dog–she is a warm snuggler when you’re living without heat!

Tuesday afternoon, we were waiting for a decision about the NYC Marathon.  Being all too aware of the devastation around us, Jay didn’t see how it could go on–but he seemed to think it would anyway.  Sure enough, the mayor announced that the marathon was a GO.  Alrighty then.  We’ll stick to the plan.

As days went on, it became abundantly clear that the marathon was pissing a good deal of people off.  I was unhealthily glued to facebook, taking every negative comment to heart.  I knew we were doing something good–heck, we raised over $6,000 to fight colon cancer!  But how was I supposed to feel good about starting a race with my back to the war zone of Staten Island?  And why were people taking out their anger on the runners?  Why weren’t they upset with the mayor for making a bad call?  People who think this sport is a narcissistic one should come to one of my speed workouts.  If anything, my experience of training for this marathon (and shorter races before it) has been a) humbling, and b) camaraderie building.  Narcissism is judging others for doing something you know nothing about.

Friday morning, John and Katie (the husband and youngest daughter of my friend Aimee who died of colon cancer in March) arrived to their hotel–ready to catch some shows and cheer me on.  Friday afternoon, my mom arrived with encouraging words, knowing I’d had nightmares about people protesting the race.  Friday night, NYRR announced the marathon was cancelled.  As much as I have have looked forward to running the legendary NYC Marathon, I breathed a sigh of relief when I received Jay’s text saying, “it’s cancelled.”  He knew I was on my way to church and would not be watching the announcement on TV.  He was steps away from Mary Wittenburg as she told the world that this race was meant to bring people together, not to divide them–and given the divisive nature of the controversy the marathon posed, it could not go on.

While I was in church with my mom for an All Saints service, remembering departed saints in our own lives as well as all who had lost their lives in Sandy’s wreckage, my husband and friends were already thinking of ways to support me, coming up with Plan B.  Jay emailed his contact at the Philly Marathon to see if he could switch his elite entry over to me–he was told no.  Our friends Tanya and Josh (the same two who ran in men’s underwear with me back in June to raise awareness for colon cancer) had found a marathon in PA set to take place on Nov. 4–same day NYC had been scheduled.  Jay immediately registered me for the race, worried it would fill up before I got out of church (it did).  He, Josh and Tanya were ready to drive me to PA and take turns running with me through the whole race.  I was touched when I met Jay for dinner and he told me the news.  But my heart had already decided on another race: Charlotte’s Thunder Road.

I’ve got to say, I never would have thought to sign up for Thunder Road as my “one” marathon to run.  (It’s looking less and less likely that I’ll only run one).  I’ve run the TR half-marathon, and loved it!  And I love Charlotte!  But I only started this journey after getting into NYC via the lottery.  Pure chance.  It’s like the decision wasn’t even mine.  Once it was made, I was stoked because of the cause that fueled me and the opportunity to run in the world’s largest (?) marathon.  2 million spectators are no small potatoes!  But now that my registration for TR is in the mail, and my plane ticket to CLT is purchased, I can honestly say I am as excited if not MORE excited to be running in Charlotte Nov. 17.

Our goal going into this race was to finish, have fun, and honor Aimee.  My training has been such that I’m a little faster than we anticipated, and it was fun to go into the NYC Marathon with a possibility of running 3:50 or faster.  My teammates thought I should be shooting for 3:45 or 3:40.  And maybe if everything on race day had been picture-perfect, I could have.  It won’t be the case in Charlotte.  I’m ready for the hills (thank God for all those Harlem hill workouts!!) but tapering, picking up my mileage, and then tapering again just isn’t ideal.  Jay’s concerned I’ll be more prone to injury.  So running TR brings my original goals back into focus–finish, have fun, honor Aimee.  We toasted Aimee Friday night after making the decision, shedding a few tears.

And that’s it!  I can’t imagine a more perfect place to finish this race than in Aimee’s town, surrounded by people who miss her as much as I do.  To run on the very streets she and I used to drive together–it was Aimee who first drove me around Charlotte, picking me up from the hotel when I interviewed at Christ Church.

There is a good chance Jay won’t be there since he is scheduled to work that weekend (and every weekend).  But Jay’s closest friends will be there, and I know I’ll feel him with me every step of the way.  Julie, Brian and Mom won’t be there, but their presence this weekend cheered Jay and I up (Pepper too) after a long and difficult week.

And as for NYC (and many other areas hit so hard), send us your prayers and your donations.  It’s a long road to recovery.  If Sunday is any indication, the running community will be a significant presence in restoration.  Thousands of runners went to Staten Island, Breezy Point, Rockaway, and Lower Manhattan to lend a hand.  Thousands of runners met in Central Park to donate goods and “Run Anyway” for the various causes they’d been supporting all along.  And thousands of non-running New Yorkers also met in Central Park to support those running–cheering for people, handing out water and Gatorade.

Despite the marathon being cancelled, or because of the marathon being cancelled, or because it just needed to happen, people are coming together.  “I sing a song of the saints of God… God help me to be one too.”

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Oct 09 2012
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Preaching for peers–Know your peeps

This sermon marks my first time preaching in class.  Meaning it was the first time I preached in the Chapel of the Good Shepherd, the first time I preached from an elevated pulpit, the first time I preached on tape, and the first time I preached with the understanding that my peers and professor would be evaluating what I proclaimed.

Proper 21 (September 30, 2012)–James 5:13-20 & Mark 9:38-50

Prayer—May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be pleasing to you, oh God, my rock and my redeemer.  Amen.

As I compared various translations of the Gospel text for today, I was struck by the subject heading for the passage in Mark as the Common English Bible presents it.  I typically ignore such headings, but the words “Recognize Your Allies” jumped out.  Really?  Is that what this passage is about?  The disciples are clearly intent on setting themselves apart from this unknown person casting out demons, not joining up with him:  “Can you believe the nerve?  Casting out demons in Jesus’ name even though he doesn’t follow US??”

Wait a second—back up—do the disciples have the corner on the Jesus market?  Even though this man is casting out demons in Jesus’ name, the disciples are upset because the man is not following them.  Remember this exchange happens soon after their conversation wondering who of them would be considered the greatest.  Their pride is as stifling as it is familiar.  How often do we think we know the way?  Even as open-minded, welcoming Episcopalians—are we not all a bit like the disciples, a little arrogant and maybe disgruntled too that someone isn’t doing things the way we do?  Professor Malloy often reminds us that teaching liturgics at an Episcopal seminary is extremely difficult because everyone believes their way is the way.

And yet the Common English Bible suggests this is not about being exclusive, but about recognizing our allies.  Hmm.  Could it be that our allies don’t always look like us, worship like us, talk, study, eat and learn in the same place as us?  Could it be that Jesus’ vision extends far beyond—just—us?

Jesus turns the tables on the disciples.  He says stop being a tattletale and take a look at yourselves.  Here we are (seminarians) preparing for ministry, presumably up on some sort of perceived or real pedestal, what an enormous amount of responsibility!  Don’t waste your time checking others out, trying to see if they are in or out; we need to spend more time checking ourselves.  It’s pretty easy to be a stumbling block (or as the Greek says, a “scandal”) from the position we are in.

I think Jesus gives us a big clue as to what this stumbling block or scandal might be in the sentences that follow:

“If your hand causes you to “scandal,” cut it off; it is better for you to enter life maimed than to have two hands and go to hell…If your foot causes you to “scandal,” cut it off; it is better for you to enter life lame than to have two feet and to be thrown in hell.  And if your eye causes you to “scandal,” tear it out; it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and be thrown in hell.”

It is better to enter life, to enter the kingdom of God maimed, lame, and one-eyed.  It is better for us to realize our shortcomings, to be self-aware and true, and to live, than it is for us to act like we’ve got it all together and miss out on life.  It is better for us to know our growing edges, to admit that we do not have all the answers, and to be closer to God—than to keep up appearances and be distant from the God we proclaim.

How do we do this.  How do we discern and allow ourselves to be shaped and formed, perhaps maimed, and thus closer to God?

Our reading from James suggests we pray.  And pray, and pray, and pray, and pray.  Pray when you’re happy, pray when you’re sick.  Pray for forgiveness, pray for the strength to help others.

I love this next part of James: “My brothers and sisters, if anyone among you wanders from the truth and is brought back by another, you should know that whoever brings back a sinner from wandering will save the sinner’s soul from death and cover a multitude of sins.”  While the passage lifts up the idea of saving a wandering soul, look at who that wanderer is?  You!  “If anyone among you wanders…”  Skimming over this passage it could easily sound empowering and self-righteous.  Let’s go save some sinners’ souls from death!  And yes, we should be looking out for one another, we should proclaim the truth in love, we should remind each other what path we are on lest we find ourselves in the brambles.  But we must do so humbly.  We must do so in the full knowledge that we too are prone to wander.  We must do so as our maimed, lame, one-eyed selves, who just want to be closer to God

There’s one more thing we need to talk about: salt.  Jesus says, “Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another.”  What does salt have to do with peace?  In Jesus’ time, salt had two very important functions: to flavor and to preserve.  When I lived in Benin, West Africa, I visited the home of my student, Alexis.  His home was one room.  And on the wall of his room was a huge poster of colorful fruits and vegetables.  Written across the top of the poster was the English phrase: “Variety is the spice of life.”  Alexis was so proud of his poster with its English words, he was so proud of himself for understanding what the words meant.  And he showed that he understood the meaning of the words when he befriended me, an awkward missionary who stuck out like a sore thumb.

Being who we are, in all of our glorious differences, worshiping God and proclaiming God in a myriad of words and practices—that is the spice of life.  And it is that same spice that preserves us.  To “have salt in us” is to season and to preserve.  And this salt is what Jesus equates to peace.  He says, “Have salt in yourselves and be at peace with one another.”  Recognize that your allies may not look like you.  Know that peace is not built on conformity.  But when we are unique selves, and when we embrace the diversity that represents, and when we recognize an ally in the person who also points to God, even without following our way—ooooh, that is living!  That is what preserves, and that is what brings peace!

Amen.

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Sep 03 2012
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Of PR and PR’s

Last week saw 3 different PR’s–two of the public relations sort, and one of the racing sort–all concerned with running for a cause.

On Tuesday I received an email from Get Your Rear In Gear letting me know they had decided to highlight my story and (more importantly) the story of my friend Aimee on their blog.  The news was especially meaningful to me because Aimee’s story was being shared with the people closest to the disease that killed her.  While my focus throughout training and fund raising is to tell as many new people as I can about colon cancer, it’s poignant to know that survivors, fighters, friends and family of those already effected by the disease are going to read about this journey we are on to kick cancer’s butt.

On Thursday I received another email, this time from NYRR, letting me know my fund raising story was on the NYC Marathon front page–just below the controversial no-baggage update.  Out of all the thousands of fund raising marathoners running NYC on November 4, our story was randomly selected and shared.  Needless to say I have been feeling the PR love this week!

Team Holder after the Rockaway Half Marathon (who doesn’t love a race that lets you cool off in the ocean afterward?!)

And then on Saturday Jay and I took a very early ‘A’ train down to Far Rockaway Beach for a little half-marathon on the boardwalk.  I knew that I was at a point in my training that I should be able to beat my personal record (PR) at this distance, even on sore legs.  My long-run pace has been faster lately than the pace I last ran a half in, so I didn’t feel much pressure going into the run.  My former PR was 1:57 and change, and I thought 1:55 would be a reasonable goal.  Coach/hubby Jay went from telling me to make this an easy shorter-long run to a longer tempo.  Race morning came, and I decided to run 8:45 pace, or 8:40 if I felt good.  I ended up running 8:38 pace for a 4 minute PR, finishing just over 1:53.  The race was fun because it was small and on the beach.  The goody bags post race were fabulous, with flip-flops and delicious cookies.  The organizers were lovely.  I’m not sure I’d ever want to run more than 13.1 on a boardwalk, though.  Running on boards means a flat surface, but it also means an energy-sucking surface.  My legs were exhausted after the fact, but less sore than they had been the day previous.  I guess my “shake-outs” this week weren’t long enough!

The week of PR’s was an encouraging one.  Good to know more people are going to hear what this run is about, and good to know I’m getting in shape to run it.  Cheers to Aimee for inspiring me every step of the way (I miss her so much!), cheers to my husband for coaching me from 0 to 26.2 (soon), and cheers to the running buddies I’ve met this summer who push me to finish strong.  There’s a lot of gratitude in this journey we’re on.

Aug 31 2012
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learning endurance

I’ve had some interesting runs of late–none of them alike.  I keep meaning to blog about the highs and lows of my training, but I only ever write things in my head.  So–a brief recap of some notable runs:

Sunday Aug 19: I was pumped about running 16 miles at McAlpine with two Charlotte ladies.  One of the women coaches novice runners like myself, the other was a regular running mate from my CLT days. Running flat/wide trails for my longest distance yet was also appealing.  But Sunday morning came, and with it rain, thunder, lightening… both ladies had to bail.  Having never run McAlpine before, I bailed too.  No use in getting lost while running 16 solo.  The rest of the day was beautiful!  And every time I saw a runner, I felt a tinge of failure.  Jay reminded me I was on vacation and could run Monday instead.

Monday, Aug 20: Redemption day!  Met up with my friend Shenna at 5:30am for a 6 mile loop, did that same loop back on my own, and finished up the last 4 miles with my friend Sloan.  It was perfect because a) Shenna gave me the best excuse to get up early, b) it rained so I didn’t feel like a wuss for not running in the rain the day before, c) the in-between miles alone were especially inspiring as I considered the meaning of running along the same roads/sidewalks I used to share with my dear friend Aimee (in whose memory I am training for), d) Sloan helped me with a strong finish–the same girl that convince me to run my first 10k a few years back.

Thursday, Aug 23: Glad to be back at UA for a workout in Central Park.  We were slated for a 4.3 mile tempo, with splits given every 1387.5 meters.  My splits were 6:20, 6:25, 6:15 and 6:22.  This means my pace was pretty consistent… my last split was supposed to be the fastest, but I was trucking it up Cat Hill as fast as I could go.  The odd thing is that the per-mile pace for the workout was 7:20.  Wah?  I’ve never run 7:20’s in a 4-miler or even a 5k.  What the heck.  Part of me was like, wahoo!  Improvement!  But the other part of me was like, uh-oh… I pushed to hard.  Needless to say I was pretty sore the next couple of days.

Sunday, Aug 26: I was hugely relieved that UA scheduled a supported long-run the day I had to do 18.  Runners were supposed to run at “marathon pace” as opposed to “training pace.”  When I explained to Jerry (team coach) that my marathon pace was my training pace, he said, “That’s ok for today, but we need to change it.  The marathon is a race.”  “Not for me, it’s not!” I responded, “My goal is to have fun and finish comfortably.”  “Ok then,” he said hesitatingly.  One of the benefits to my husband coaching me through this race is that we’re on the same page.  Jerry is an awesome coach–he’s perfect for competitive runners like my husband… but not me, not this race!  I went out with the 9-min pace group, and we kept it just under 9’s.  My legs were still a little tired from Thursday’s tempo, but I was feeling good.  We split at mile 16 so everyone could finish their own mileage (16-20) at their own pace.  I knew my last miles were supposed to be the fastest, so I pushed through mile 17, feeling good, and then BAM.  Pain.  My left ankle hurt so badly, I thought maybe I had broken it.  But I was 90% sure it was muscular, so I ran through to 18.5.  The pain never stopped that last 1.5 miles.  Oh no.  Crap.  What’s going on.

Long story short–I rolled my ankle slightly at mile 5, and the gradual swelling from that combined with swelling from a unfortunately placed mosquito bite (smack dab on my tendon) resulted in substantial pain.  I limped through half of Monday until the bite subsided–and all was well!  I was relieved and embarrassed.  Stupid mosquito.

And that brings me up today.  I my legs are aching.  I know I did 18 on Sunday and a tough workout on Tuesday, but I did nothing but ice, rest, compress, soak and elevate on Monday!  And I ran easy on Wednesday and Thursday!  And I’m taking today off!  Most of my friends are suffering from soreness or sudden cramps/strains/pulls… I guess maybe we’re to the point in our training where the idea of “endurance” really comes to life.  It’s not just getting through the long runs, it’s getting through the days, weeks, months of training.  It’s getting through every-day tasks when you’re sore from last night’s workout.  Getting through the mental games you play with yourself over every hint of pain.  Getting through the weeks you feel awesome, and the weeks you feel like a hot mess.  It’s being surprised to find a spring in your step despite your aching muscles.  It’s new territory for me.

Tonight Jay and I will be carb-loading and going to bed early to gear up for an early half-marathon at Rockaway Beach.  Earlier in my training, we had this down as a race.  But with my hamstring injury last month, all my long runs got pushed back a week, making this a recovery week rather than a race week.  It’s still a race, and my goal is to PR.  But Jay reminds me that this is just a step toward the real goal, and not to go all-out.  The same goes for my hubby–tomorrow will be only the 2nd time he’s run 13 miles since April.  It’s a small field, and I know he’ll be tempted to push it.  But the goal is to recover from 4 months of injury, and this is just a step along the way for him.

So much learning, so much to endure, and one heck of a good reason to run through it all.

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