26.2 Reasons to Run

I distinctly remember finishing my first half marathon and resolving NEVER to run a marathon. While 13.1 miles has it's enjoyments, I was confident 26.2 miles would eliminate all such pleasures and break my body in the process.

I have never been so happy, relieved, proud, and grateful to eat my words.

My discovery: the greatest difficulty of a marathon lies not in the race itself, but in the preparation. And the majority of that preparation? Mental. Of course there's an element of physicality that requires conditioning...and quite a substantial element at that. But I firmly believe that the real battle waged in running, be it 1 mile or 26.2, is with your mind. We're our greatest allies and our worst enemies, and challenging our bodies will take your mind one of two ways. The first, and most obvious: negativity. Running is THE WORST! I'm winded...maybe even breathing daggers. My joints are stiff. My big toenail's probably falling off. That hill killed my quads, and why is my right hamstring weirdly sore? My shoe's tied funny. No way am I going to make this. MUST...W.A..L...K. Seriously. Some days it feels that dramatic.

The other obvious alternative: positivity. But here's the key. ***Positivity doesn't mean you don't have any of the negative thoughts!*** But as they come, and they WILL come, you train yourself to look beyond them. You can acknowledge them, give them a moment of validation...the complaints ARE real after all and ignoring them isn't going to get you anywhere. But then you let them go. For me, that requires more than just stopping the negative thought before it becomes a negative thought process. You need a positive replacement. Some days, those might seem hard to come by, but if that happens to be the case, I know I needed the run. And a healthy dose of life perspective. Might as well find it on my feet!

This is one of my major reasons for running without music (in addition to safety). I can't afford the distraction. I need to tune into my body and how it feels, so I can tune in more effectively to my mind...where the true training begins!

In the final weeks before the race, I had a friend pass along a fun piece of advice she'd heard somewhere along her marathon training. For each mile you run, dedicate it to someone. Or something. Let that be your motivation and mental focus for the mile, with the idea that then 26.2 will fly by. She actually suggested pulling out a slip of paper each mile of the activity, but I wanted to be sure to experience the race itself to the fullest, letting my mind be in the moment. So I opted for making a gratitude list the night before, not assigning specific mileage, but putting myself in a place mentally where I was focused outside of myself. And it's amazing how many of them came to mind during the race itself. I won't list all 26, but here are a few.

First, last and somewhere on the middle of the list is my FAMILY!

I've never run a race where I had so much support. My parents braved the early wakeup call and chilly mountain morning with me, family showed up cheering at various points along the route, and were waiting for me at the finish line. A few of them even ran along side briefly. And of anything that came to mind during or after the race, this is what overwhelmed me with gratitude the most. Not because of the moments they helped along the race, but because of the moments they've helped me through my life. I'm eternally grateful for their support, friendship, and strength.

SIGHT:

While the course I ran was mountainous, hilly, and difficult (mile 18 was dubbed Hamburger Hill due to the steep incline), Park City is NOT a shabby place. Vision is something that I find easy to take for granted...I've always had it. But no experience would be quite as sweet without the beautiful, the ugly, the humorous, and the inspiring pictures we see along the way. A mountain sunrise for example.

Others: Change, Food, Pain, Childhood, Judgment (and the restraint thereof), Weakness, Death, Emotions, Hard Work...the list goes on. It's a brief list of gratitude. My positive powers for training thought. My mental mastery. And ultimately my 26 reasons to run.

The last 0.2? It was all mine.

Success isn't how far you got, but the distance you traveled from where you started.

~Steve Prefontaine

System Cleanse

No, this is not a post on my juicing fascination. Or about the blind date who refused to feed me as he was mid-watermelon cleanse. (I heard about his intestines in enough detail to determine a second date was not necessary). Rather, there are three experiences which I need out of my system before tomorrow am: My Three Worst Runs (Please don't associate the final word with the previous intestinal reference).

CANADA:

Courtenay, BC. We were on tour with our opera production. Fancy, right?! Oh, wait...we were touring to Courtenay. In November. A colleague of mine had never run more than 10 miles and wanted to do a half marathon, so we decided the next morning was the perfect time to do it. I have never been more mistaken. It was freezing cold and raining what felt like ice. Snow would have been SO much better. Neither of us were properly clothed for the climate...shorts, capris, light jackets. It. Was. MISERABLE. Within the first mile my feet were soaked through from the puddles which made it all the more freezing. Around mile 5, I started getting an awful headache which made my vision start to go a bit funny. 8 miles to go??? Not a chance. We turned that boat right back around (wish we'd actually had a boat), vanquished by the rain. I have never hated running more then at that moment.

Luckily, we tried again the next morning. Courtenay is actually a quaint little town, and when we left town and got into the more wooded areas it was breathtaking. Half marathon attempt #2 was successful and even pleasant. But not pleasant enough to erase the memory of #1.

CLEANSE.

DALLAS:

Supposedly I was training for a marathon that was to occur in two weeks. The supposedly bit comes from the fact that I had hurt my back whilst in Tulsa and took about 5 weeks to get back to real running. I decided with a talented soprano friend and fellow runner to go out for a run around White Rock Lake. She would loop once for 9 miles and I could could go around a second time for 18. I attribute the beginnings of this failure to a Vietnamese food truck.

I had a fabulous pork sandwich and my fascination with food trucks made it all the more wonderful. Until that evening when my intestines revolted. (In the very way I encouraged you NOT to think of at the beginning of this post). I assumed I would be fine in the morning. Wasn't. Went running anyway, determined not to be bested by my body. MISTAKE!!! I felt slow and lethargic, which was worsened by the guilt I felt at slowing down my running mate. But that would have been fine. What wasn't fine was the desperate need I had for a bathroom around mile 6. Found one. And never wanted to leave it. But did and attempted running again. I think I must have been pretty dehydrated at this point...my water intake couldn't keep up with the loss of all my insides. Which led to me hunched over the edge of the trail gagging and wishing I could throw up something besides spit. We walked the rest of the way. And I didn't run the marathon.

At least it was a scenic trail...CLEANSE.

VIRGINIA:

Another attempt at 18 miles. Unfortunately in the sweltering heat and humidity of a Virginian summer. Smooth start. Ran from Reston to Vienna in relative comfort (I'd started early in the day) and after 10 miles was headed back home. Out of water, I decided to make a pit stop to rehydrate at the local Whole Foods.

Downed a water bottle and chocolate milk...yes I love it. And yes it is also endorsed as a fantastic recovery drink post run. Bonus. PROBLEM: I quit running and my body didn't know quite how to respond. So it chose stomach knotting, and a hangout in the grocery store restroom. Sensing a pattern with my overactive metabolism. Unfortunately, I still had to get home. Weak, nauseated, desperately wishing for a magic taxi or friend to surface and offer me a ride, I had to make it 8 more miles. By this time it was about 10:30 and the sun and humidity had combined in full force. What's a girl to do?!? I called my mom. She talked me through almost the rest of my run (coupled with occasional walking stretches) and gratefully helped the miserable time pass. With about 2 miles left she had to go. I may have cried. Farewell all mental and physical fortitude. For a brief stretch I honestly thought I would forever be stuck on a roadside in Reston. Home was not happening. Luckily, I have sisters and Lindsey successfully talked me through the rest of the distance.

I felt over-heated, dehydrated and basically awful for the rest of my day off.

CLEANSE.

Fortunately I now find each of these incidences entertaining. (Please note that not all of my running is quite this pathetic. I do actually enjoy it on occasion.) But it was time to clean house of all negativity as regards my running. I'll need every ounce of space available for positive thinking TOMORROW!!!

See you on the other side!

Life is a Literal Dream

"Living the Dream." Great expression, right?! Inspiration, sarcasm, humor...it can be all of the above and more. You know what it should not be? 100% accurate. At least not in this scenario.

Consider the case study below:

Exhibit A: 28-year-old female (that's right...age happens). We'll call her S-Dawg for the sake of anonymity. And in an effort to unlock her alter-identity.

S-DAWG DREAM DIARY:

Wednesday, 6.20.2012 (All dates are manufactured for the purpose of this post)

Finds herself in a classroom. Studying. Surrounded by fellow pupils. Russian conversation is underway and she joins in. Frequently to expound on the statement "I do not know." Action moves to a bus, still with classmates and Russian teacher behaving as a guide.

Scene Change.

Finds herself in a small, sound-proofed room. Cubical in shape. Containing a piano in corner. Singer enters. Coaching comments. Singer exits. Practicing commences.


Thursday, 6.21.2012

S-Dawg finds herself in Moscow. Is introduced to several colleagues, having realistically abbreviated conversations, and occasionally finding an easy flow of words. Still apologetic on occasion with a "Please, repeat?" or "I'm sorry, I don't understand." Given a brief tour of the facility and then left to her own devices to find her Russian class which is beginning just across town in 5 minutes. As she steps outside to find the new location, a heavy rainstorm commences. S-Dawg is soaked. And slightly vanquished.

I don't think I need to continue.

PEOPLE, I'm living my dream. More accurately, I'm dreaming my life. Which turns out to be not even half as exciting as the first statement. Plus...it's exhausting. What happened to sleep as a reprieve, a retreat from daily activity??? An oh-so-illusive rest?

In case you can't tell, my mind has become virtually one-track. Or perhaps we can say two tracks that run parallel? 1) Work. 2) Russia. The tracks merge come the end of August. And here's the truth: I can complain away about dreaming my life. But in reality, which just happens to encompass both wake and sleep at the moment, I really am blessed enough to be living some of my dreams.

I work for an amazing company during the summer (and several of them during the year!). I'm surrounded by fantastic, talented people who work hard. And play hard. And become friends and a bit of family in the process. I have ACTUAL family in the vicinity, which transforms my existence. And I have a boss and colleagues who care enough about me and what I deem important (since when do individuals matter in opera scheduling?!), to have released me from work every evening on Monday-Thursday for the past month. So that I could go to school. (Yes, homework assignments were a rude awakening). And study...drum roll...Russian.

Why? Because, come September I'll be living Case Study Dream #2. In Moscow. Studying what I love. Sponsored by the government (nothing like helping out the deficit). And working in a pretty stunning environment.

Now...to keep that in mind whilst overwhelmed by Russian language, Russian composers (just when I start feeling comfortable, I turn a page and Stravinsky seems to back-hand me in the face), and the odd lack of restful sleep.

Dreaming life in order to live the dream!

Kool Kids say KC

The best way to gain an appreciation for the natives is to blend in with them.* You don't want to put them on their guard...it's like observing animals in their natural habitat. Absolute stealth is required. While I am not willing to share ALL of my stealth skills with the Internet sector, I will let you in on one tip acquired in one of my recent residence. Kansas City.

The word Kansas City frequently inspires immediate confusion. Kansas is such a great state after all...WAIT! It is in Kansas, right?! Right. AND wrong. Kansas City, KS is part of the Kansas City, MO greater metropolitan area. In my mind, that's one Kansas City too many. For our purposes here, Kansas is irrelevant, so let us be established in Missouri. But, it's not Kansas City, MO people. It's KC.

TIP: Learn the Lingo.

KC and I were tight. Immediately. I walked into my house (hotel by definition but my home in my dictionary) and fell in love immediately. Kitchen, couch, large & comfy bed with many pillows (my personal favorite), a fireplace AND internet. And cable. Hello civilization, goodbye Oklahoma. Location of said house? Also prime. Directly off of the country's first outdoor mall, the Country Club Plaza. I feel classy even typing the words country and club in such a context.

My second KC home was equally beautiful. Although I didn't see a fireplace anywhere...

I first discovered the art of BBQ in Texas so it's likely my heart will forever belong to Rudy's. But I had no objection to experiencing some of KC's offerings. I went for legenday: Arthur Byrant's (pictured below). And convenience: Jack Fiorello's (located between work and home. Not pictured. How many BBQ pics can one post handle?)

The first night I found myself in KC I was exhausted. For about two weeks I was employed in Tulsa and KC simultaneously, which meant quite a few 4-hour commutes. Compound that with brain fatigue...learning some seriously crazy music in a matter of days will do that to you...and all I wanted to do was crash. But my inner adventurer rose to the occasion and had Siri find me some of the top desserts in KC. I opted for the one pictured below---a ginger cinnamon donut and chocolate pudding sprinkled with sea salt. I would not say that any of the above items are particular favorites of mine, but in combination they were stunning. Yes, stunning.

I'd never really heard anything about Kansas City, MO. It definitely hadn't made my list of desirable places to visit. Or work for that matter. But with all honesty, I can safely say that I love Kansas City. It was unexpected, but I believe that's how some of the best romance comes about.

*The term "natives" is used without reference to a specific breed of person, but rather a geographically located tribe.

Tulsa Tidbits

Today was a turning point---ridiculously long, but pleasant and productive. And somehow with it behind me, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel which has been the 2011-2012 Season. Tunnel might sound a bit negative. But think of the Detroit airport tunnel. Psychedelic, colorful, exciting, potentially dizzying, sometimes stressful (you're still in an airport people), and a portal to home. Or not home, but for my analogy home it will be.

So, here I am. With a finish line (both literally and figuratively) in the not too distant future. And the potential of possible blogging as well. Now on to the subject of today's post: TULSA. I am no longer in Tulsa, for the record. And Kansas City has also come and gone. Currently I reside in Dallas, but as I am having interesting adventures along the road, I would like to recollect and recount a few.

Let it be known that Tulsa is not my favorite place. Nothing further need be said in that regard. Despite some of my negativity which may have been appropriately or inappropriately channeled at the city, there were some highlights. Here are my Top Ten:

10. My amazing home decor. I had two matching sets of these:


9. Freckles. Unique name for a custard shop, but I'll take it. Several times during my stay in fact. I'm a bit prejudiced against regular ice cream since my discovery of frozen custard. I'll eat both, don't get me wrong. But I prefer what's pictured below.


8. Tide Pods people. These are revolutionary. You may have seen similar products for your dishwasher, but it's taken some time for that genius to transition into the laundry room. And I don't understand why. I've been saying they should for ages. I could probably sue someone out there for taking my idea...Anyway. They're compact. They travel well (an absolute necessity in my current existence). And they're cute. Yes, laundry detergent can be cute.


7. SMOKE. Not a habit I picked up, but a fabulous restaurant on Cherry Street. Friendly people, locally sourced food, and a tasty experience all around. One of the true joys I find in travel is eating. And this was my Tulsan favorite.

6. The Philbrook Museum of Art. A true gem in the midst of the city. I saw this version:

But this version might be more awe-inspiring:

The grounds are stunning regardless of the season, as is the mansion and the art collections it houses. I went with a friend who happens to be an architect and it was fun hearing some commentary from that perspective.

5. Girl's Night Out with Valerie. Let it be known that I was not social in Tulsa. The combination of long hours and a physically/emotionally exhausting opera don't inspire me to do much beyond going home and getting in bed. I didn't realize how much I needed a night out until we planned a dinner date at the Redrock Canyon Grill. I will never forget the gorgonzola sauce of deliciousness the waiter recommended be poured over my steak. Best decision I made in the month of February by far. Add in lovely company and quality conversation, and it's obvious why this makes the highlights list.



4. Valentine's Day. Despite my continuously single state, it's a holiday that I love. I love people and I love thinking about all the love I have in my life. I had the morning off and I spent it frosting sugar cookies made the evening before. Anyone who knows me is aware that baking is one of my therapeutic habits. And that morning spent frosting was seriously needed. In fact, I should probably add frosting to the random list of objects I travel with. Might be best to start every day frosting something...

To celebrate the occasion, I made my fresh juice of the day to color coordinate. I love beets. I don't love what beets can do to your hands and clothes if they have a mind of their own. Another story.


3. Meeting the composer. Most of the music I deal with on a regular basis is 100+ years old. It's inspiring to work with an individual that's creating art for the operatic medium NOW. I'm a music nerd and love a good note session (breaking down what can be improved in the performance) but especially when the person who created the work is present. Awesome.


2. Working with inspirational people. This can be said about many of the locations I find myself in, but this cast was especially committed to the project. It's always refreshing to see people who are making music an art, rather than simply a business.

1. It might not have actually occurred in Tulsa, but my final gig of the 2011/12 Season is owed to my involvement there. And I couldn't be more excited...it means I get to spend an extra month with these lovelies!


Two weeks until Washington DC!

My New Life

One of the beauties of my current existence is the ability to start a "new life" approximately every four weeks or so. New city, new company, new colleagues, new music...I just pack my bags, switch passports Matt Damon-style, and wonder what the Bourne series would have been with an operatic twist. ANSWER: Less successful.

In my recent lives, I've found myself in Salt Lake City, Houston, Tulsa, and--the current--Kansas City. But my favorite new life? That of a seafarer. Welcome to My New Life: The Cruise Edition

Traveling is something I do often. Vacationing? Not as frequently. So a weekend girl's getaway from Houston provided the perfect calm to what has become this Spring's busy storm. Both of us were virgin cruisers (in the traditional sense please) so a 4-night cruise from Galveston to Cozumel seemed a lovely introduction.

And it was. The following picture seems to best embody our carefree existence.

Frozen yogurt machines, people. I'm getting one for my house someday. It can sit next to my waffle maker and chocolate fountain. Other food highlights would include the veggies delivered through room service...I still think those red peppers were delicious...the chocolate milk, bulk gummy candy, and some amazing, melty-chocolatey, cakey, dessert goodness. There was definitely food in abundance, so we were good enough to try out the gym. Running without quite having attained sea legs = slightly disastrous, but a definite achievement.

Other adventures included high-speed sea races in Cozumel, and some work in "foreign affairs."


Some language practice...(we did manage to pull off a conversation in Spanish, courtesy alla Italiano).

And a last minute snorkeling expedition that ended with our credit card being swiped in a jeep, and a ride back to our pier from the mayor's personal assistant. A mix of spontaneity and planning produce the best adventures by far.

Best of all, lots of people watching AND lots of quality time in our cabin, sleeping, gabbing, and doing NOTHING. Not my area of expertise, but it can be quite brilliant as it turns out. Especially when you have animals for company.

I loved our "cruise life," as we frequently referenced it. Even moreso when the craziness of my work life set in the day of our return. To be honest, though, I love the madness of my life. And it makes experiences like The Cruise Edition seem that much better. Here's to vacation!

The Oklahoma Edition

I travel a fair amount for work at the moment. Which you may or may not know, based on the infrequency with which I blog. At the moment, I am in the middle. See below.

Alright, perhaps it's not RIGHT in the middle. But pretty darn close. To narrow down the red region a bit, I'm in Tulsa, the upper right-hand corner. Which has felt a bit like the middle of nowhere. Once again, no internet. And no television whatsoever. The real kicker is that the nearest Costco is 204 miles away...how else does one define civilization?!? I am, however, surrounded by every size of WalMart imaginable. And, miraculously, I've already found a new boyfriend.

Finally, someone who meets the height requirements! Although he can be a bit cold at times...

I've been running a number of times, to bond with the city and its inhabitants. Right now it's brown and ugly, but I'm hoping it will transform to this before I leave. Sunshine and greenery always improve my opinion of a town.

Fingers crossed.

If you were considering a vacation to Tulsa in the near future, I will say this: I enjoy the number of accents I've heard. Despite having lived in Texas, I feel that I was somewhat sheltered from a real drawl, and I thoroughly enjoy the variety of vowels I hear here. Additionally, I attended the Tulsa Symphony concert on Friday which was themed around the "American West." What was the encore? A rousing rendition of none other than "Oklahoma!" I like a little state pride. It creates the real cultural experience.

While I'm doing my best (maybe) to settle in here, I can't help think but think longingly of my most recent adventure which was titled "My New Life." I'll leave you in suspense, wondering what said life may have been. And with a half-promise that I'll write about it in the near future.