February 1, 2010

Today Chelsea Brack was laid to rest. Chelsea was a no nonsense get ‘er done kind of girl. She had just graduated nursing school at the top of her class and was set to take her RN certification test in just a few weeks. Why would God take away someone that still had so much to give? Especially someone who had made it her life’s mission to further diabetes research and work in a field where she was helping the sick and injured? It just didn’t make sense. She was known for her infectious laugh and viviacious and honry spirit. Chelsea was a true hard ass, she had to be to live the kind of academic life she did and to take on such a draining profession like nursing all while living day to day with diabetes. It doesn’t seem fair to keep breathing in and out, to laugh, to go out to dinners, to see a sunset when she can’t.

Today was also supposed to be my first day of training. Instead I watched as one of the most loving and close knit families I know bury their beautiful twenty-five year old daughter. Today I made the decision that I will run the half marathon not just for me, but for Chelsea. I will run because she can’t. I will push myself harder and faster because she can’t. I will breath in and out, be grateful for the health God gave me and kick my own ass because if she were here, that’s what she’d do. I love you and miss you Chelsea. I’ll see you at the finish line.

January 25, 2010

This morning I got a phone call from Ken on the way to work. I knew before the second ring that something was wrong. He never called me that early. Sure enough he was calling with the news that a very close friend of ours had died. Chelsea Brack, the sister of Ken’s long time best friend, Ben Brack had passed away in her sleep the night before. Ben had called this morning to tell Ken the news and now he was calling me. Chelsea had diabetes and for the most part had it under control but had apparently died suddenly as a result of the illness. I am shocked. I have no words. All I can do is pray for peace and comfort for the Brack family. We love you guys and will see you in a couple of days.

January 23, 2010

Before I get to far into this, I want to give credit where credit is due. I could not do this without some major support in my life. For several reasons, I decided to only tell a few people about training for the marathon.

One, I didn’t want to get everyone excited and part way in suffer a major injury and have to disappoint all my adoring fans. Two, I kinda liked the idea behind it being my little secret. “Why Lacie, what strong calves you have. How on earth are you getting so fit and lean?” to which I would coyly reply, “I really just eat whatever I want and never exercise. I’m lucky I guess.” Three, there is less pressure. There are a lot of naysayers out there. You may not believe me but all you have to do is tell someone a dream of yours to see that they are EVERYWHERE. Go ahead, try it. Tell someone your dream is to own a traveling flea circus and I will bet you a Starbucks Tall two-Equal Americano with a splash of non-fat (or soy if thats your tune) that someone will try to smoosh you and your little fleas in less than 24 hours. I think people are afraid to follow their own dreams so they take comfort in making fun of others dreams and waiting for them to fail. Its sad but true. I’ll be honest, I’d probably tell you that your flea circus was stupid myself but not because I hate circuses, I’ve just heard that fleas despite their reputation for being circus performers, are highly untrainable. I might instead suggest a ferret. See, told you.

The three people I decided to tell were Ken–for obvious reasons (when I began being gone for hours at a time in nothing but shorts and sports bra, I would think he’d get suspicious) my mentor at church, Jan (for spiritual encouragement and prayer) and Jana–my running coach.

For now, I want to fill you in on Jana. Jana is a rockstar. I have a lot of respect for her both personally and professionally. She’s an exec in the leasing department at Kemper Development where I work and she is a kick in the pants. Her laugh is infectious, her style classic Jackie O but with a little edge and she always has a sparkle in her eyes like she’s onto something or in on a secret you’re not. I simply adore her. I knew she was a marathon runner as I had heard stories about her hardcore races. She’s run a few marathons and continues to train on a regular basis. When I first got the crackpot idea to run the Seattle Rock and Roll, I sent her an email to ask if she had ever done it. She immediately replied back and said she hadn’t but that’d she’d do it with me if I wanted to take it on. We agreed to a coffee date (Tall two-Equal Americano with a splash of non-fat for me) to go through all it would entail.

As I sat there and listened to her talk, I couldn’t help but think of a passage in the Bible. I don’t know what Jana believes spiritually and it makes no difference to me, I love her just the same but I was both moved and inspired when I heard how much she has to juggle to make it work. Proverbs 31:10-31 immediately came to my mind. Here I am worrying that I “won’t have enough time” to train while Jana is kicking ass and taking names. She is a mom of two beautiful kiddos and wife to a great guy, all of who’s lives she’s very involved in. She not only holds down but goes above and beyond at a great job, volunteers her time for non-profits and at her kids’ schools* gives money to charitable causes and on top of it all, manages to train vigorously for marathons and half-marathons on a regular basis, most of the time before the crack of dawn. It became clear to me at that point that I’d have no excuse not to give this a shot. I told her I was in.

Over the next couple of weeks she would put together my training schedule and we would meet regularly to check-in and see how things were going. Like I said, Jana is a rockstar and it gives me all the more confidence knowing she has my back. I am honored that she would add running coach to her list of duties and I can only hope I’ll make her proud.

*One time I texted her late at night and she was scouring local grocery stores to find strawberry jello mix for her son’s cooking class the following day-now that’s a supermom for you.)

January 22, 2010

Today I bought my first pair of marathon kicks. I also bought Taco Bell for dinner on the way home. Not exactly off to a great start I know. I can’t say I know many runners that eat Supreme Double Decker tacos but I don’t really know many runners period so maybe my sampling pool is too small to get an accurate reading. That aside, now I have my tennis shoes, my MAGIC shoes. There was something about buying them that made me feel like me and running were getting a fresh start. Like I wouldn’t have to be afraid of running anymore. My running coach, who I will tell you more about in another post, had suggested I go to Foot Zone down the street from our office. I had butterflies in my stomach but at the same time, was very excited. If you know me at all, it doesn’t matter if I’m buying a wrench, I LOVE shopping. How bad could it be right?

The clerk was with another customer when I arrived so I busied myself looking at some running clothes while I waited. I have to admit, I’m very new to the whole running business but they have some very cute clothes. Not to mention a lot of nifty gadgets. The clerk, a young pup of a thing, finished with the customer he was helping and escorted them to the door. He turned to look at me and stopped dead in his tracks. On that particular day, I didn’t quite look like I belonged in a running store. I stood there in my black satin jumper, blazer and platform stilettos and just smiled hopefully. “I’m here to get some running shoes. I’m running a half marathon in June.” Nothing. “Its the Seattle Rock and Roll one, you know, the uh, Rock and Roll half marathon.” Still not much. “My friend Jana said I should come here, that you guys have the best running equipment.” Finally. “Oh uh, right, sure. Take a seat right over here.”

After a few minutes of stilted, awkward conversation, he finally loosened up. I can’t say his words had become any more encouraging. “So you’re actually going to run the marathon huh? Have you started training yet?” I replied confidently, “Nope, not yet. I’m starting February 1st!” “Yeah, a lot of people start training but can’t quite seem to make it to the finish line…” he said as he pulled off my stiletto. After he watched me walk back and forth a few times, which I have to say was like walking the runway which I worked just like Tyra teaches on ANTM, he brought me three pairs of shoes to try on. I asked him not to tell me the price so I wouldn’t be swayed.

As I was trying on the second pair and taking a lap around the store, all of a sudden we heard a terrible bang, followed by a long screeching noise. We looked out the window to see that someone had run into a concrete parking post and managed to drag their entire car down the side of it. Mezmerized, I stood there with one shoe on. We couldn’t look away. It was like a…well a bad car wreck. Was this an omen of my running days to come? A sad crash and burn while everyone watched? He got out, kicked the tire, swore a few sailor worthy words, and then noticed we were staring. “On to socks!” I shouted.
He showed me over to a wall filled with socks that looked like they were all made of marshmellows. Now THIS, I like. Surely running isn’t hard when you’re running on marshmellows, right? Then, I spotted them. ZULU socks made by Balega. “Whooooa…what are these?” I didn’t listen to his answer because I was lost in thought and hooked immediately. They felt like little fluffy clounds. A far cry from my platform stilettos. I read the label. “ZULU- For the warrior in all of us.” Love, love, love, (did I mention love?) it. I bought three pairs. If I wasn’t a warrior yet, I would be soon enough. I left feeling elated, prepared (shout out to all my scouts) and anticpating my very first training run which is just days away. I ran out hollerin’ my best Indian war whoop.

January 21, 2010

I decided before taking on the challenge of the half marathon that I would need to get checked out by the doctor, just to be safe. You know, since running is so bad for your knees and whatnot. Knowing full well that I was a healthy and fit (for the most part) 27-year, a small part of me couldn’t help but hope that there was something wrong with me so I wouldn’t be able to run 13.1 miles on June 26. I called the doctor and set up the appointment. Next thing I knew, I was sitting on the white crunchy paper and reading Green Eggs and Ham. Ah yes, how I longed for simpler times. A knock and he appeared. He didn’t so much as listen to my heart before he gave me the go ahead. “Are you SERIOUS? There isn’t anything you want to hit with a hammer or shine a light in?” I was all good. I was told I needed to pay attention to any injuries (knees-see I told you!!) and treat immediately, take it nice and slow with training and get lots of rest and eat right. Well duh. Crap.