race day

i made the mistake of watching the finish line for the 5K. they had started at 7:30AM; my 10K was to start an hour later. there was a stream of runners, one after another, who were finishing their race averaging a 5 minute mile! i was already doubting my ability to *finish* a 10K; now i was fearing that i'd also be among the last to finish. the obvious running amateur.

around 8:15AM, i made my way to the starting line, began to stretch, and tried to clear my mind a bit. there were hundreds of people lined up, many in groups. there was a lot friendly cajoling among the runners, all confident, all fun. no apparent nerves like mine.

once the race began, runner after runner passed me as we all began to establish our respective paces. a group of fire fighters were running in a block, each with his last name emblazoned on the back of his helmet, chanting what sounded like a funny running jingle. when i passed the one mile mark, i was surprised to have run it much more quickly than i had anticipated. (subsequent miles would be slower!)

the second mile was around a small lake in a local park. i saw ducks placidly swimming, swans stretching out their wings. by the end of the second mile, i was greeted with a small cup of water. the third mile began up a hill. i thought i could probably walk the hill faster than i was "running," but i kept on running.

miles four and five were a familiar blur, but in the sixth, i felt my excitement grow. this was my last mile, and at that point i knew that i could make it. toward the end of that last mile, i saw my mom aiming at me with her camera phone, and, closer to the finish line, joseph, and my dad furiously snapping pictures.

i ran through the finish line feeling exhilarated and a little bit proud of myself.

@>-->>---

running long.

i dread my saturday morning runs. maybe dread is the wrong word.
i fear my saturday morning runs.

saturdays are my "long run" days. last friday night, i plotted a four mile run for myself on mapmyrun.com. on saturday morning, i found myself pulling on my running gear with trepidation. four miles?

that morning i ran along the residential streets of my neighborhood. on saturday mornings, there is scarcely any traffic. everything is cool and serene, except for the occasional dog that barks when i pass his house. i don't run to music; at this point, i prefer to run to my thoughts. and listen to my breath--uneven for the first mile, and then steadying.

i ran the first three miles with self-assurance, but when i came upon the last mile i became nervous. it was not only an unfamiliar mile (could it do it?), it was also an unfamiliar path (i have to find new paths now that i'm running longer). the street was busier than i would have preferred, but it was fine. when i saw my destination, the street sign that marked the end of my fourth mile, i picked up my pace. when i crossed that street, i felt a sense of elation. four miles!

as i cooled down, walking toward our house, i felt energized and accomplished.

four miles.

that was nearly a week ago. today i am nervous about tomorrow morning's run.

4.5 miles?

fits and starts

as a crosstraining activity, i've decided to take yoga at my neighborhood gym. at the 8AM class during the week, i'm generally the youngest person in the class. though there are a couple of women who look to be in their 40s and 50s, i would put many of the class in their 60s and 70s.

yoga is no joke. most people think of it as a way to become flexible, and, it does help to do those deep stretches while on a running regime. but what most people don't understand is that yoga is also strength training. the poses you hold require you to hold your own body weight, which is, frankly, not that fun. but you do it, and it works. you emerge stronger and more flexible.

my problem is that i'm a little bit competitive. my instructor constantly tells us not to look around at other people. that "yoga is about you." nevertheless, as a "young" person in the class, i expect that i should be able to hold a pose just as well as any 60 or 70 year old. that's not always the case.

last thursday, i was feeling a little more able than i actually am. and i threw out my back! in yoga class.

it didn't happen right away; i felt something shift in my back when i switched poses, and i knew that something had gone awry. later that day, i started to feel it. by the time joseph came home that afternoon, i was hobbling around the house, wincing and clutching my back.

i took a few days before i was walking upright, but i have learned my lesson. i'm not bound to be a yogi any time soon.

@>-->>---

training days

i'm training for a 10K.

four years ago, i used to do this. i trained for races. mostly 5Ks, but there was one 10K, and there was the triathlon training.

i used to love it. i loved the confidence born of the strength and endurance my body showed me, especially when training for the triathlon. i remember the first day that i did "brick training." we rode our bikes three miles, ran one mile, rode another three, and ran another one. the sensation of switching from biking to running was nothing less than discombobulating. when i switched from biking to running, my legs were shaking as if i were using them for the first time. but i pushed through, ran the mile, and got on the bike again. at the end of that morning's workout, i remember thinking that my body had never been in such hard motion for that extended period of a time. but in the weeks following that early training session, i saw that my body was capable of even more. swimming, biking, running. training for that triathlon made me feel powerful.

it's been 3 1/2 years since i've trained for anything seriously. and in that time, that strength and endurance has seriously slipped away. i have a million excuses, all of which i will spare you. the truth is that i haven't prioritized my body in all that time.

so now i'm training for a 10K. i haven't even wanted to say those words out loud because, frankly, i'm a little bit afraid. but i'm coming out. i'm going to run a local 10K on november 8th. or die training. ;)

@>-->>---

husband and wife!

husband and wife!
Originally uploaded by lamusa

this is a shot of us as we we made our entrance into the reception site.

it's probably my favorite picture of us at the wedding. it's unposed, and i think that it really captures the joy that we were both feeling that day.

wedding day

the morning was grey and quiet and rainy.

i expected that weather. my friends had spent the previous week assuring me that rain on your wedding day was good luck in some cultures. nobody could remember which culture.

i didn't care. i was happy and calm and ready for the day.

there was hair and makeup. a flurry of activity when the limo driver pulled up to our house and i was still not dressed.

my mom helping me with my dress and veil, stepping back to look at me, and beginning to cry.

"no crying," i told her. then, "i love you."

at the church, there was a critical mass of my bridesmaids already assembled, all beautiful. there were bouquets of roses and calla lilies distributed and pictures taken. when joseph and his family arrived at the other side of the church, everyone made sure that i was out of sight.

just before 2PM, we were ushered to the front entrance of the church. i was whisked to a side room with my bridesmaids, my precocious flower girls, and my dad. i wondered why there was no music.

but then the organist began to play canon in D, and, one by one, my bridesmaids made their way up to the altar. finally, i heard the wedding march begin, and my dad took my arm and led me to the end of the aisle.

that wedding march was, in a way, like watching my life flash before my eyes. i saw the aunts, uncles, and cousins that i grew up with; there were my closest friends from high school; friends from my undergraduate days at stanford; and my girlfriends from grad school in texas. all of these people from those various stages of my life, those people i have carried in my memory and in my heart, all there to witness this next stage of my life.

and there was joseph at the end of the aisle.

there were scriptures and prayers, the presentation of the lazo, arras, and the bible. we exchanged vows. we received blessings. and then we were married.

the priest announced that joseph could "kiss the bride." and he did. three times. the priest exclaimed, "or you can kiss her three times!" our first three kisses as husband and wife.

@>-->>---

prescience

after Mass on sunday morning, joseph and i decided to have breakfast at one of our favorite mexican restaurants. it was bustling with a crowd of people who were mostly ordering menudo. we waited patiently for our non-menudo breakfasts.

that morning, i was in the mood to reminisce. the afternoon before, i had stumbled upon an old journal and found myself re-reading my chronicles of the first few months we were dating. did he remember telling me he wanted to marry me after three months? he recalled our first date, as he often does, at a country club and then at a starbucks in temple, texas. how i told him that i just wanted to be friends. ;)

i tell him, "maybe on friday, after the rehearsal dinner--"

"we can go to starbucks and have some time to ourselves before the wedding," he said.

i looked at him, mouth agape. "how did you know i was going to say that?"

"that's why you're marrying me, isn't it?"

because he reads my thoughts and finish my sentences. honestly, it's the same as it was on that first date. i found it disarming that he could sense what i was thinking beyond what i was actually saying. i think that joseph exercises a form of listening that is beyond listening. most people don't pay that much attention.

and yes, that is one of the reasons i'm marrying him.

@>-->>---