Pacific Crest Endurance Weekend

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dvgZkm1xWPE&ob=av3n

In June of 2010, I went outside of my comfort zone and did a few things differently at Pacific Crest Endurance Weekend in Sunriver, Oregon.  For the first time in several years, I did not do the half-ironman distance triathlon; instead I only ran in the half marathon event.  I never run, race or train with music, but for this race I decided to run with my i-pod.  The thing was, I had just started running again after learning and living through the horrific news that my sister and best friend had been murdered 6 months before this race. Instead of training for an ironman, I was living an ironman with just getting through the emotional roller coaster of the most overwhelming grief experience I had ever been through.
I actually felt nervous thinking about running this race. I somehow felt exposed, small and vulnerable in the crowds. Now normally I am pumped at the start of an event. The adrenaline magnifies the edges I had pushed myself toward in training and inserts a kind of confidence that usually makes the first few miles feel like I am floating on air instead of pounding the ground.  But this timidness was a more common feeling these days and would need to be along with me for the ride of this race.
The gun went off and I started my i-pod. Breathing into a rhythm that reminded me, yes I am here and she is gone, but yes, I am here and what I must do is be here.  Time to use this body, feel the sunshine, fill up my lungs while I had the chance.  The miles started clicking by.  The music was ok; I am not sure if it helped me to run at a quicker clip, but it was kind of nice being in my own bubble and I knew I could turn off the tunes any moment I felt like it.
I got to a good Michael Franti tune and knew I was about 7 minutes from the finish.  I figured I would just repeat the great Franti song and then turn off the machine before heading into the finish chute.  Instead of hitting replay, however, I accidentally forwarded on to the next song.  And to my surprise it was Coldplay's "Viva la Vida".  Warm tears sprang up and sliced through my sweat-crusted cheek.  This was an Alisha song.  It was on the CD that was given out at her funeral. It was the only Alisha song I had on this particular playlist on the i-pod.  My dead sister was now instantly here with me at the finish of my race!!  I felt a rush of gratitude and smiled when I crossed that finish line.  I wasn't alone and small-I had done what I set out to do and for a few moments my loneliness moved out of the way to let in the light.

I am now training for the half-ironman at Pacific Crest.  I didn't do it last year because I opted to run the local 50-K called the Siskiyou Outback (SOB).  I think this new loneliness that I am experiencing with working the night shift is a bit reminiscent of 2010.  I am eager to see how it plays out this time. We'll see what I decide to do about that i-pod.

The life that laid out before me has been shattered over the last few years. As I pick up the pieces of the mirror, I sometimes catch glimpses and a reflection of myself that I never saw before. Do I like what I see? Does like even matter? The joy and warmth come when I look in that mirror and my eyes burn with sunshine. The light makes the tears flow and warms my lonely heart.
So I am in search of that sunshine and hope to reflect it here for myself and any who need a little light in their lives.