Thought 5: A thankful heart . . .

When I was five years old, my parents took my two brothers and I on a three-week trip around the country. We had a multi-stop plane ticket and hit cities from Maine to California. When I think back on this trip, my five-year old memories include my first Broadway shows in NYC, Peter Pan with Sandy Duncan and Annie. I remember the "No Vacancy" signs we continued to see one late night driving through Maine. I remember the glow necklaces at the Astros baseball game in Houston and I remember driving down the twisty turns of Lombard Street in San Francisco. An incredible trip and another example of my parents doing what they could to open our eyes to adventures beyond our boundaries. 

We went to the Clemson-Citadel game recently and it was Military Appreciation Day. They honored veteran and active service men and women in many different ways and I worked hard to pay attention to each moment while negotiating with a three-year-old in my lap eating frozen lemonade. But, there was one moment that struck me in particular. It was during halftime and Megan was getting tired. The band had finished their portion of the show and she had her head on Bob's shoulder. The names of the approximately 30 Clemson service men and women that had lost their lives over the past year were announced over the loud speaker and their pictures were displayed on the score board. The families of these men and women were on the field and honored in that moment. The band played Taps and all I could do was look at Bob with Megan and think of all the men and women that would no longer have the chance to connect with their loved ones because of the sacrifice they made to their country. This is a moment that sits close to my heart this Thanksgiving and my love and prayers go out to all service men and women, active or veteran, and their families for all they give to this country.

It's easy to say that I am thankful for so much this Thanksgiving - the blessings I try to thank God for every day. I am thankful that I am married to my very best friend who I am more over the moon for today than any other day of my life. I am thankful for my daughter and all the love and joy she brings to my heart every day. I am thankful for my dad and our relationship and that I can call him one of my very best friends. I am thankful as a sister, a daughter-in-law, an aunt, a niece, a friend to have so many gifts in my life both big and small. I am thankful for my health and the fact I am symptom free from issues I have faced and that I am able to participate in a running journey like this one. A home, a warm bed, security, food on my table, family, and good health - I am thankful for all of these things this Thanksgiving and every day.

I am thankful for the gift of adoption. It could not be more fitting for me that Thanksgiving, Megan's birthday, and National Adoption Month share the same month. The gift of adoption is not something that came to my life just three years ago. I was given this gift when I was born as my second brother Steve, who is three years older than me, was adopted by my parents at birth. I never really thought about this much growing up as Steve was just my brother and my parents never made it a big deal. It was a part of his story and it wasn't something I ever thought about much. Steve was always my brother in the same way my oldest brother Mike was my brother. Although we played the roles of teasing brother and irritating sister growing up, Steve and I could not be closer now as he is one of my very best friends. So, adoption was clearly a gift to me from the very beginning and a positive force in my life.

Although the story of how Bob and I reached the decision to adopt a child is long, the road after that decision was a good experience. I will share the first half of that story in another blog, but it all led to what was meant to be from the beginning, Megan as our daughter. We knew that from the moment we saw her. There is a lot of bad press and misinformation out there about adoption and people are so scared and intimidated to venture into the process. It is not easy and there are people that have had bad experiences and long roads with the journey, maybe even have given up. Bob and I had the opposite experience.

The greatest move we made as we got started was connecting with an adoption consultant. Once we connected and signed up with Nicole Witt at The Adoption Consultancy (www.theadoptionconsultancy.com), our adoption journey was off and running. Don't misunderstand me, adoption is a daunting and an extremely vulnerable process. But having an expert there to provide the education, help, and encouraging and honest voice was invaluable. She walked us through the process when we sat down with her at her office near Tampa in December 2009, and everything else was completed by phone and email. She claims she can help you through the process in 3-12 months, and we were matched with Megan's birthmother in July 2010, 8 months after we first sat down with her!

The first five months of the journey were spent on paperwork, paperwork, and more paperwork. We went through background checks, a home study, and spent countless time at Panera Bread drinking raspberry iced tea and completing our questionnaires and forms on our respective laptops. Nicole did the research and connected us with a list of agencies, mainly in Florida and Utah, that she thought would be a good match for us. We had a wonderful experience with our home study and the social worker could not have a been a nicer person, although I was terrified the day she came over to our house. The biggest undertaking of the applications was our adoption profile. It is a 12-page laminated book full of pictures and text, which is what is given to the birthmother when she is deciding on a family. I spent a lot of time at Kinkos making copies of applications for each agency we applied to and laminating page by page of probably 20 copies of our profile. That took me about 4 hours one day.

We were approved to be adoptive parents in May 2010 and the waiting began. We had no idea what to expect and it was difficult. We were presented to a few birthmothers along the way, which is hard because you never hear back from the agency if you were not selected. You just have to assume they declined after a certain period of time. But, one fateful day in July, we received a call from a Utah agency and our first connection with Megan was made. We had an initial conversation with the birthmother on the phone before being selected and the decision was made very quickly afterwards.

So, after two short months of waiting, we were on our way to becoming parents. We had regular communication with the birthmother from July to November when Megan was born. Although our worries and fears about this part of the process consumed us many days during that time, looking back, we had no need to worry. Megan's birthmother could not have been more giving and did everything she could to keep us informed and part of the pregnancy. She even mentioned the fact she was having a girl when I talked to her on the way to work one morning when I was driving Bob's car.  I like to call the mark on his car that I made when I turned quickly into my parking space at work to call him with the news our "it's a girl scratch." She even texted me an ultrasound picture.

We visited Megan's birthmother once in her hometown before the delivery and we all met in Utah in November 2010 for the big day. She let us both be in the room up until the point she started pushing and I was allowed to stay for the birth! We are forever grateful to her for this gift. She even let Bob's parents and my dad come up to her room later that day to meet Megan. Our agency was so supportive throughout the whole process and was at the hospital with us to make sure everything went as planned. We took Megan home from the hospital two days later to a local Residence Inn and stayed there for almost two weeks until the paperwork was cleared in Utah and Georgia for us to come home. Six months later we returned to Utah for the adoption to be finalized, a beautiful day for us as a family. Megan was baptized at our church in Atlanta the same week.

So, this Thanksgiving, I will be thankful for so many things, and the gift of adoption and all that it has brought to my life is one of them. If you are thinking about adoption and want any help or resources, please let me know. Every experience is different, but it is important to me that people hear the good things too. I have shared our consultant with several people over the years and always love paying it forward to ease the journey for others who are on their way to being connected with their dream come true too.

Thought 4: It's ok to be cocky . . . .

Wonder Woman was a big hit in the 1970s and was of course the theme of my 4th birthday party. It was held at Holder park in Titusville, Florida and my mom made capes for me and all my friends. There was an old army tank at the park that we always enjoyed climbing as kids. Trying to keep up with my two older brothers was always a big task for me. I often had a hard time climbing onto the tank by myself as there was not a natural place to plant your feet to push up. Sometimes I needed an extra push.  

A friend of mine and fellow runner gave me a challenge earlier this year. Those that live in the Atlanta area and know the stretch of road between South Cobb Drive and the Home Depot on the East-West Connector will appreciate this undertaking. She challenged me to run that stretch. To say it is hilly is an understatement. But, I was feeling good, even cocky I guess, and decided to try running it. There and back, it's about a 4.5 mile run. I parked at Home Depot, put my buds in my ears, and cranked up the playlist. Although it was chilly that day, I stripped off the long sleeve shirt early in the run. I knew it would be hard, but wow! I had my backside handed to me that day for sure. As I ran, I knew I had to share this experience in my blog, but I thought I would title it "Don't be cocky." The more I ran and the more I thought about it, I knew that my cockiness, gumption, confidence, or whatever word you want to use to describe the spirit inside you that gets you up a "hill," was what led me to take on the challenge in the first place.

Now that I have made the attempt, it is time to take what I learned from that run and use it as a starting point for my training. I am 9 weeks out from the Hot Chocolate 15K in January and I have not fit in a long run in nearly three weeks. I have let my running and gym time take a backseat to other plans. This is where I can get myself into trouble. This journey is so important to me and I have carved the time out in my life for my training. It is very easy as many know to let your personal goals take a back seat to your obligations to your family and others. Sometimes we don't have a choice, but many times it is my own head that gets in the way. I can talk myself out of a workout faster than most, letting my fatigue talk for me. I read a quote recently that said "The only workout you will regret is the one that doesn't happen." These words motivate me a lot. I never regret going for a run or going to the gym. Never.

What I do regret is not preparing my body with the resources it needs to do my very best. This is a big deal for me as my body needs extra fuel just to sustain itself during normal exercise, much less marathon training. Due to my past health issues, I now have a body that needs a lot more water and nutrients than most because it doesn't absorb these things or hold onto them as long as most other people. Not to say that everyone does not have to watch their nutrition and hydration, because they most certainly do. I just have to be extra careful. When I get dehydrated, I end up in the hospital very quickly.

So, to avoid all that unnecessary nonsense, I need to pay special attention to what I eat and drink, as well as when I eat and drink . . . right? This will probably be my greatest challenge during my marathon training (I may take that back when I am running 18 or 20 miles next summer). I have the hardest time with making sure I am attending to my nutritional needs. The past few years, I use my daughter as an excuse as I have been so focused on what she eats and drinks. But, if I am not getting all the fuel I need, I cannot be there for anyone else. My loved ones, in particular my husband and dad, have pushed me for years, "Are you drinking enough water?" or "Did you skip any meals?" I think this is a problem for a lot of people as we all lead crazy, busy lives. But, if I want to continue this journey, it is no longer acceptable.

I can look toward race day and imagine how good it will feel to cross that finish line. But, as we all know, it is not about the destination. I can feel it when I don't have enough fuel to give the run or workout what I know I can do. I want to give this journey my best, but in order to do that I have to attend to all the components of what will make this a success.

I would love to hear from others who share this challenge with me, as well as tips or resources that you have found helpful. I will share this advice and what I have learned in a future blog.

I am hoping what will come out of this besides three race medals and a lot of miles, is a stronger, more balanced Susie with new habits that I can carry forward into my 40s and beyond.  So, I will continue to let my spirit be cocky when it needs to be and give it the fuel it needs to take on any hills that come along my path.

Disclaimer: In honor of my husband, when I use the word "cocky," it is in no reference to the University of South Carolina - Go Tigers!

Thought 3: This ain’t my first rodeo . . .

When I was 2 ½ years old I started ballet. My dad was sitting in the first row at my first dance recital with a video camera. He said I walked to the front of the stage before the music began and said, “Hey dad, watch this!”

Dance has always been a part of my life, whether I was performer or just a spectator, my love and appreciation for the art of dancing has been a part of me. I emphasize more the "love" and less my actual talent. I took classes up into my freshman year of high school, with jazz always being my favorite. It has to be said that I am a proud fan of the movie Centerstage. I took a break in high school, especially when I learned that you had to do a toe touch to be on the dance team. I swam on my high school swim team, and my races of choice were either the 100M backstroke or 500M freestyle. I returned to dancing in college and joined the Furman University dance team. I have even taken some drop in classes over the years at a local studio in Atlanta. However, since leaving college, most of my touch with dance has been as a spectator, whether I was watching the Nutcracker at the Fox Theatre, seeing a Broadway show with my dad, sitting with my mom and aunt at Lincoln Center watching the New York City Ballet or enjoying the season tickets that Bob bought me to the Atlanta Ballet. Things come full circle now that I spend an hour every Monday morning watching my daughter Megan growing her love of dance as a new ballerina.

So, this is what I have known. I have always loved aerobic classes as my form of exercise, when I actually made it to the gym. I can’t even count how many gym memberships I have had over the years that have gone mostly unused. Sure my health problems have gotten in the way at different points, but I couldn’t always use that as an excuse. One thing was for sure, I was never a runner.

In my adult life, I have been a professional race spectator. I can make the signs and scream the “way to go” cheers for all that pass by me. My brother-in-law was the trailblazer for the Hubbard runners as he completed his first marathon in Atlanta on Thanksgiving Day 2005. The whole family was there to see it, including the new puppy. As the years went by, my awesome Hubbard sister-in-laws joined in as well as my hero of a husband. Bob and I have participated in several 5K races over the years as walkers, especially for the Crohn’s and Colitis Foundation of America. Those races always made me very emotional as I was surrounded by other people that were either suffering from or supporting someone with the same disease I was facing. I did try to keep my sense of humor as I wore my “They took my colon and all I got was this lousy t-shirt” shirt. Keeping my sense of humor has always been one of my greatest weapons.

Needless to say, watching my Hubbard siblings and my husband race all these years has been a charging experience, whether I saw my sister-in-law Tiffiny finish her first marathon in Atlanta or seeing my husband and sister-in-law Betsy cross the finish line of the Disney marathon and high five Mickey.  I watched them on that journey and imagined what it meant to meet that goal.  But I knew it wasn’t just about that day, but all the days and runs that led them there that was the real journey. I was so inspired and proud of all of them and started thinking and wondering . . . could I do it?

This road over this next year is not my first attempt at training for a race. In 2008, I signed up with my very dear friend to walk/run the 2009 Atlanta Half Marathon. I really wanted to give this distance a try and it meant so much to both my friend and me. Bob and I were in the middle of infertility treatments and trying in vitro fertilization. We were in our third attempt leading up to the race and I was scared to train too much as I didn’t want to jeopardize our chances of getting pregnant. The procedure was not successful, but I showed up on race day and we finished together with our hands in the air. It was a personal victory for both of us. But I was not satisfied. I knew I didn’t give it my very best. Bob and I share a love of Walt Disney World and decided in the spring of 2009 that we were going to sign up for the Disney Half Marathon in January 2010. I even started training for a sprint triathlon that spring as well, something I always wanted to do. To emphasize the magnitude of the months that followed, we had our fourth and final unsuccessful in vitro fertilization attempt, my mom passed away in July, and three weeks later I had a full hysterectomy due to my worsening case of endometriosis. The hardest months of my life. My training did not happen that fall, but I showed up on race day in January 2010 and we finished together with our hands in the air.

Something about running made me feel alive and powerful. 

I know I am a competitive person, but this wasn’t about competing. It was about showing myself that I could do better. Let’s try this again. In 2012, I starting thinking about this idea, this blog, and running a full marathon the year I turned 40. Before I reached that milestone, I wanted another try at the two races that I wasn’t able to give my all. I started training again in March 2012 and ran the Mableton Day 5K that May. I found out weeks before that I had a malignant tumor in my left kidney that was operable and needed to be removed. I showed up on race day and ran a personal best. I had the surgery in June 2012 and after a month of recovery, put my running shoes back on and continued my training. A very dear friend decided to join me in training for the Disney Half Marathon in January 2013. My training went really well and I pushed myself harder every week, sometimes ignoring the pain in my leg as I hit mile 6 or 7. It eventually went away. We packed up our toddlers, husbands, and enough groceries each to feed a small army and headed for the Happiest Place on Earth. I showed up the day of the race and we both made our personal best times! I was very pleased with myself and could not wait to give the Atlanta Half Marathon another try.

After ignoring the growing pain in my leg that I exacerbated on race day, I headed to see a physical therapist.  I learned two lessons from the Disney training and race. First, when training, it is important to both strengthen your muscles alongside your running. I had only been running and injured my left iliotibial band. Ouch! It took me months to calm it down. The second lesson I learned is to run the race for which you trained. I pushed myself harder than ever as I was so excited. But, I hurt myself worse in the end because I didn’t take the breaks I had planned for and my body was used to having. Needless to say, due to my injury, I was not able to participate in the 2013 Atlanta Half Marathon. I showed up the day of the race, and cheered Bob on the whole way. I was so proud of him.

So, here I am. I have a new goal and renewed motivation. The Hot Chocolate 15K in January, the Atlanta Half Marathon in March, and the Chicago Full Marathon next October have my name all over them. I am hitting the gym, putting the time in, and living my life. Let’s see where this journey goes, but I know I can do it. Whether I watched you or ran with you, thank you to all of those who have paved the way for me.