Week 11 started off great!!! After my running epiphany my whole outlook changed. I felt renewed and confident and REALLY excited to tackle my 15 mile long run on Saturday, but then it began to rain. My sweet little Boro stayed very dry, but my parents who live nestled right outside of our nation's capital in Alexandria VA, well it began to rain, and it rained, and it rained, and it rained. Not a big deal. I mean it rains, but the constant construction in my parents neighborhood doesn't allow anywhere for the water to go. 5 years ago they had 3 feet of water enter their home. Thursday night I got the call that they had been evacuated and the water was rapidly rising. Tears welled in my eyes as I spoke to my mother "Katie it's just stuff. We'll be fine." My parents and their 74 year old neighbor made their way to higher ground. They listened to rain the pelt the ceiling as they attempted to sleep, with every drop the uncertainty of what the morning would bring set in. The sun tried to come out, but the rain kept falling. My folks returned home in a light drizzle to find their basement covered in mud, muck, and mayhem. Mother Nature had been kind this time, but she still left nearly 6 inches of rain and mud.
I haven't talked much about my family, which is a real shame because I have 3 amazing sisters, Spartan Sister, The Scholar, and Miss Independence. My parents are pretty awesome to. My dad spent 27 years serving our country while my mother hand raised us girls. My mom is the world's mother. Ask anyone who has met her. The moment she meets you, you instantly become family. She embodies all that is right in the world. She is kind. She is loving. She is giving. She is better than ice in the desert. ALL of my friends respect and love my mom, some even more than their own mothers. She is just all that a mother should be, and she shares it in every hi, every hug, every handshake (The hand shake is rare. She's definitely a hugger). My mother is also a rock. Several years ago she lost one of the most pinnacle people in her life. Miss Lin was a beautiful soul that my mother took refuge in. At her funeral my mother didn't shed a tear. She comforted her children and others around her. She was graceful, dignified, and compassionate, even when on the inside she was crumbling, she put others first. She always does. She always will. That's my mom.
I missed my mom's call Friday afternoon because I was at Chick-Fil-A with my girls and my in-laws. My mom has taught me to treasure every second with my kids. Baby M FINALLY overcame her fear of the "big slide". I heard my phone, but watching my daughter slide with pride took precedence. My mom taught me to value these precious moments. After about 15 times down the slide I checked my phone. I listened to my voicemail and my stomach fell to the floor. It was my mom. She was crying. She asked me to come home. I stood there for a moment frozen. My mother, in my whole 32 years has never been broken or vulnerable. I immediately called her back. In classic mom style she was collected and told me she was ok, and it was silly for me to come. My mom recently lost her mother, and the flood washed away some tangible memories for her. When she found the rain soaked, mud stained journals of my grandma's my mom took off her cape and became a daughter. My mother has always been super mom. In that brief message, she wasn't a mother, but a daughter mourning the loss of her mother.
Long story short, the next day I was on a plane back to the rolling hills of VA. My in-laws took my ladies, and I spent the week helping my parents clean up. When I should have been crushing 15 miles I was boarding my flight to DC. I may not have been running, but I sure was working!! I think I sweated more loading and unloading their basement than I have during this training process!! My short runs consisted of carrying boxes and loading furniture, which I almost killed my 63 yr old father with a 7 foot craft cabinet!!!!
I did get to my 15 miler mid week. After we had them "settled" back in, my mom dropped me at the Mt. Vernon trail. My run started at Dyke's Marsh and I ran to Mt. Vernon and back. What a beautiful run. The sun was rising over the marsh as I headed out. I was taken back at the beauty that surrounded me. The date was September 14, 2011. My mind began to remember what I was doing 10 years prior.
On September 14, 2001 I was glued to the television along with the nation. Watching, waiting, quietly accepting that there would be no more survivors. It was too late. They have been in there too long, but myself like everyone else I remained hopeful. Three days earlier I woke up to a phone call from the Scholar Sister. The night before had been a "long" one, I was a mere 22. My roommate and I had celebrated her bday so 9:50 in the am was EARLY,especially when our heads hit the pillows in the wee hours of the morning. I think I was still drunk when the Scholar asked me "Are you watching the news?" I laughed and responded "Why the hell would be I be watching the news??" I turned on my television and saw the smoke. I saw the fire and my sister said, "We can't find dad". My father had a meeting at the Pentagon that morning. Instantly I was sober, paralyzed in fear. I called work and told them I would be late. I drove to work with tears streaming down my face. It stung and it burned. My heart stung and it burned. What if my dad is hurt? What if my dad is gone? I couldn't reach either of my parents. I don't remember much of the timeline that followed, but I remember getting to work and everyone looking at me. A tear stained 20 something with no idea if her dad was hurt? on fire? worse? What seemed like an eternity passed. My manager Karen ran from the back office and told me my mother was on line 1 and my family was accounted for. I will never forget when my mother said to me "Daddy's meeting was cancelled. He is fine." I fell to my knees. I sobbed. I cried more than any rain has ever filled a basement. I was relieved. Still frozen with fear, but relieved. I wanted to go home, but my mom told me to "stay put". I know she said these words to me because in that moment Statesboro, GA was seemingly safer than DC.
That Christmas I visited the Pentagon. It was still burnt and a giant flag covered the remnants of my innocence, my sense of security, and the peaceful world as I knew it. My family was so lucky on September 11, 2001. When I booked my flight for September 10, 2011 my stomach quivered, like so many others "I can't wait to go home". Ten years. Thousands of lives. One changed heart. In the days that followed 9-11 I coined my mantra, Love Big or Be little. I learned in an instant, like we all did, that life can change in an instant. My family was sparred the grief and the lifelong feeling of loss. I learned that day to love each and every day, even the bad ones. I was in DC on the 10 year anniversary. I attended the Warrior Walk at Arlington Cemetery. During the service's prayer a plane flew over head, I wasn't scared. I felt safe and protected, a feeling that took nearly 10 years to obtain, but it was there. I honored the lives that were lost that horrific day and honored the men and woman that have died giving me back my sense of security, my peace of mind. It was a beautiful morning September 11, 2011. A beautiful somber morning. As I waited for the metro I thought of the footsteps I am filling. Mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, all stood on the same platform headed to work on beautiful September morning.
It was a great trip home. The circumstances of the trip weren't the most favorable, but the trip itself was amazing. The people affected by the flood were incredibly positive. I saw neighbors helping neighbors, people laughing through tears, a feeling that empowered a nation 10 years prior. I was going to ask everyone who reads my words to donate to $26.20 to a charity of their choice in my daughters' name, but after this weekend I was reminded of the importance of time. As that sense of security has crept back the unconditional love of our neighbors has diminished. Instead of giving $$$ I am asking you to give your time. If you read my blog or happen to read it just this one, I am asking you to give 26.2 hours of your time over the next year. Give it to whomever you please, but save your cash and give your time. Email my girls via my email and tell them about YOUR 26.2! Your time is more valuable than money, and our time is a gift. A gift so many families wished they still had. Honor your time. Love Big or Be little.
Weeks 11&12: 26 miles
Lessons learned: Our time is gift that is meant to given.
Kjasionowski@hotmail.com
Please share with my girls how you spent your 26.2
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
My Marathon: We interrupt week 11's training for an important a...
My Marathon: We interrupt week 11's training for an important a...: First and and foremost...I AM NOT PREGNANT!!! Nor am I throwing in the towel. I had one of the best runs tonight, and it had nothing to do w...
We interrupt week 11's training for an important message.....
First and and foremost...I AM NOT PREGNANT!!! Nor am I throwing in the towel. I had one of the best runs tonight, and it had nothing to do with my pace, the weather (although that was AMAZING), how awesome I looked, or how far I went. It was a simple 5 miles at nearly a 15 minute pace, but it was wonderful.
The last few weeks I have been trying to figure out ways to move faster as I go forward with this process. Running a quick ten, walking 1, pushing hard during my short runs, hydrating, eating, mind games, new shoes, you name it I have tried it. Tonight I just ran. My hip has really started to bother me the last two weeks. Up until this point the only "pain" I have felt was my knee. That had nothing to do with my training. I over pronate and a new shoe fixed my ailments. My hip was another story. I began to worry (still am a tiny bit concerned, but not too much) that I had a real injury. I did some research and stretched my IT bands, problem solved. I ran yesterday pushing every mile and in the end I shorted the run and immediately my hip began to hurt. I had to stop listening to my ego and start listening to my body. She is politely saying, "Can you please slow down?"
Now I run a 13-13:30 mile. If I slow down too much it will be in time to watch the sun rise the day after the race. When I push I shave it down to 11-11:30, but my body is sending me a message. She isn't ready to do it my way, she has to do it in hers. The average woman births a baby in 8-12 hrs. My first bundle took nearly 31, my second slightly over 24. When my body does marathon duty she does it slowly, but in the end sweet success.
My Nike plus has tracked my steps since 2007. When I see the old me starring me in the face my 13:30 twists in my gut. Tonight I had a realization. I don't ever want to be the person I was in 2007 again. The last 4 years have allowed me to grow and change into a person I am so proud to be. As each year passes I learn more, do more, love more, live more. In 2007 I was in the gym 5 days a week. Now I spend my free time blowing bubbles at the park, swinging "HIGH IN THE SKY MOMMY", kissing boo boos, bouncing at Monkey Joe's, and listening to Sammy the Seal 100x's before lunch. I don't want those 5 minutes back. I wouldn't trade what I have now to go back in time, so stop obsessing.
I have struggled all my life, like most woman, with self worth, self esteem, and confidence. I had an blazing red Afro, freckles all over, and pasty white skin mixed in there....it was inevitable!!! I weighed barely 71lbs when I started HS. I learned early on that humor can mask any hurt, and I have used this my whole life. As I grew older I began to gain confidence, but there is always something. Just last year I hesitated to go on a swimming play date with our toddler. "All the mom's have their PhD's or their Master's. I only have my BS and am currently making $10 bucks an hr!!!" Praise the good Lord I got over myself and not only got into a bathing suit with them, but opened up to them. Great group of ladies, mothers, professionals, but most importantly my friends.
I live in southeast GA and for nearly 10...count them 10 years I didn't wear shorts. I was too pale. I didn't wear flip flops because my feet are REALLY ugly (now my feet ARE really ugly, ask any of my sisters), but I finally accepted and loved my pastiness and ugly feet and have been happy, confident, and comfortable in shorts and flops. Tonight I accepted that I am not going to be fast. I don't want to be fast. I want to finish and be able to enjoy the evening (after a substantial nap) with my family.
Accepting who you are is an indescribable feeling. Loving that person is even bigger. I don't think one truly loves everything about themselves, but man it feels good to let go and accept. When I got home I stretched, and so far my hip feels great. It will be sore tomorrow, but not as sore as it would have been had I run like some one who I am not. My hope and prayer is that my girls, all girls for that matter, learn these lessons at a younger age than I did.
Mid week: 8 miles
Lesson Learned: Strive to be who you want to be, but don't deny who you are.
The last few weeks I have been trying to figure out ways to move faster as I go forward with this process. Running a quick ten, walking 1, pushing hard during my short runs, hydrating, eating, mind games, new shoes, you name it I have tried it. Tonight I just ran. My hip has really started to bother me the last two weeks. Up until this point the only "pain" I have felt was my knee. That had nothing to do with my training. I over pronate and a new shoe fixed my ailments. My hip was another story. I began to worry (still am a tiny bit concerned, but not too much) that I had a real injury. I did some research and stretched my IT bands, problem solved. I ran yesterday pushing every mile and in the end I shorted the run and immediately my hip began to hurt. I had to stop listening to my ego and start listening to my body. She is politely saying, "Can you please slow down?"
Now I run a 13-13:30 mile. If I slow down too much it will be in time to watch the sun rise the day after the race. When I push I shave it down to 11-11:30, but my body is sending me a message. She isn't ready to do it my way, she has to do it in hers. The average woman births a baby in 8-12 hrs. My first bundle took nearly 31, my second slightly over 24. When my body does marathon duty she does it slowly, but in the end sweet success.
My Nike plus has tracked my steps since 2007. When I see the old me starring me in the face my 13:30 twists in my gut. Tonight I had a realization. I don't ever want to be the person I was in 2007 again. The last 4 years have allowed me to grow and change into a person I am so proud to be. As each year passes I learn more, do more, love more, live more. In 2007 I was in the gym 5 days a week. Now I spend my free time blowing bubbles at the park, swinging "HIGH IN THE SKY MOMMY", kissing boo boos, bouncing at Monkey Joe's, and listening to Sammy the Seal 100x's before lunch. I don't want those 5 minutes back. I wouldn't trade what I have now to go back in time, so stop obsessing.
I have struggled all my life, like most woman, with self worth, self esteem, and confidence. I had an blazing red Afro, freckles all over, and pasty white skin mixed in there....it was inevitable!!! I weighed barely 71lbs when I started HS. I learned early on that humor can mask any hurt, and I have used this my whole life. As I grew older I began to gain confidence, but there is always something. Just last year I hesitated to go on a swimming play date with our toddler. "All the mom's have their PhD's or their Master's. I only have my BS and am currently making $10 bucks an hr!!!" Praise the good Lord I got over myself and not only got into a bathing suit with them, but opened up to them. Great group of ladies, mothers, professionals, but most importantly my friends.
I live in southeast GA and for nearly 10...count them 10 years I didn't wear shorts. I was too pale. I didn't wear flip flops because my feet are REALLY ugly (now my feet ARE really ugly, ask any of my sisters), but I finally accepted and loved my pastiness and ugly feet and have been happy, confident, and comfortable in shorts and flops. Tonight I accepted that I am not going to be fast. I don't want to be fast. I want to finish and be able to enjoy the evening (after a substantial nap) with my family.
Accepting who you are is an indescribable feeling. Loving that person is even bigger. I don't think one truly loves everything about themselves, but man it feels good to let go and accept. When I got home I stretched, and so far my hip feels great. It will be sore tomorrow, but not as sore as it would have been had I run like some one who I am not. My hope and prayer is that my girls, all girls for that matter, learn these lessons at a younger age than I did.
Mid week: 8 miles
Lesson Learned: Strive to be who you want to be, but don't deny who you are.
Monday, September 5, 2011
My Marathon: Hello hydration....week 10
My Marathon: Hello hydration....week 10: Always be prepared. I should have been a boy scout b/c I would have learned this lesson at a much younger age. As a mother I have learned to...
Hello hydration....week 10
Always be prepared. I should have been a boy scout b/c I would have learned this lesson at a much younger age. As a mother I have learned to always be prepared. Be prepared for anything. Bodily fluids can shoot out of any orifice at any given moment, multiple outfits in tote, check. Plastic bags to collect said remnants, check. Although you fed your children moments before you left your home for a ten minute fuel up, one will inevitably be hungry, snacks packed, check. Don't forget entertainment, a 40 min wait on your food is 1yr in a toddler's life, crayons, paper, books, and toys, imagination packed, check.
When I first became a mother I fell victim to the over packed baby syndrome. A three day weekend trip required 4 bags of "just in case clothes", 2 cases of diapers, 2 cases of wipes, bath seats, highchair, snacks, breakfast, lunch, and dinner for a week, shoes that fit, shoes that might fit in case their feet grew overnight, jumpers, large pack and play, small pack and play, 10 blankets per day, receiving blankets that I never used at home, but brought b/c " I might need them". The kids were ready for anything, but when mommy went to get dressed for Christmas Eve dinner, she had no underwear (true story).
That pretty much sums it up. My kids are healthy, smart, and prepared. I however can't find my keys, sunglasses, or my watch on a daily basis. Don't get me wrong, I am not selfless, my kids are together, mom is a mess. I did focus on myself this week. Before every run I ate and drank accordingly. I fueled my body with mainly nutrients, minus the bag of sour cream and onion chips I consumed in a four day span (never shop hungry).
My long run was 14 miles. I enlisted the help of Spartan Sister and Marathon Mama (Sarah Davis). I pumped my body full of H2O the day before and carried a Gatorade/water mix during my run. Holy hydration!!! Miles 6-9 I was cruising at an 11:30 pace!!!! I felt great, assumed I looked great, and rocked it. As I ran the first five I reminded myself that my LR's don't have to be a chore. I mean for over 2 hrs I am away from the lights, sounds, sippy cup filling, tantrum wrangling, toy dodging, baby whining, dogs panting, dryer buzzing, time out dealing, bill paying, grocery shopping, meal planning, vacuum cleaning,
bathroom polishing, daily duties of my job. A job that doesn't get a Labor Day holiday or any other for that matter. It fueled me more than my magical juice. I began to embrace my "me time". For the last 9 weeks all my runs were work, week ten, 14 miles, became pleasure.
At 5:30 in the am on the streets of my Boro there aren't too many people. I literally began singing, out loud and proud. I was SINGING as each foot crushed the cool 75 degree pavement. I belted out Bon Jovi, Angie Aparo, Dixie Chicks and more.....until mile 12, apparently The Wall and I had another appointment. Little did he know I was prepared this week. I kept on. Yelling at myself "PUSH". "YOU CAN DO THIS. PUSH" I was my own doula during this run. When I pushed out my 9lb 15 oz baby girl, all naturally (seriously..no drugs) I had a WONDERFUL doula by my side. But my 14 I used all I had...Leave it all on the road. I didn't break any records, but I did a much better job. 13.1 took 3 hrs, 14 took 3:05, that is a definite improvement.
I ran. I ran well and I ran hard. I am proud of my dedication to myself, but I am semi-proud of a choice I made. I love that show "What would you do?" You know the one where they fake situations to see if human nature prevails for good or evil. My long runs I leave my humble track and run "in town". I have extended my route as my mileage has increased. Statesboro is a very safe community, but I do run through the pieces of what might be considered the outskirts of a "not so great" neighborhood. I saw 2 men on the side of the road. I immediately crossed the street. As I ran on they crossed back, so I crossed over. I was approaching a gas station that was lit up like the 4th of July. I knew if my gut said stop I would be safe there. I ran on. I soon realized there was a woman on the opposing side of the street. I took out my ear bud to hear what was going on. One of the men was SCREAMING at her, words and sentences that no one should hear. I was terrified. From my brief encounter with the threesome it appeared that they may not have been to bed yet, time approaching 6am. The yelling escalated and I ran faster. I passed the gas station with onlookers looking, but no one saying a word. I ran. But then I stopped. My own fear may lead to a woman being beaten, verbally slaughtered, or worse?? I thought of my own girls. I would want someone to make sure they were ok. I paused my workout turned around and walked to a hotel across the street from where the three were arguing. I debated my next action. I mean it isn't a crime to argue, but I was scared for her. I stood behind the bushes, seconds away from going inside to call 911, when it went silent. I jumped out from behind the bushes to see the girl getting into a car and drive away. My lips were seconds away from screaming "Are you Ok??" when I saw her get into the car.
She left with what appeared to be friends, but with the "screamer" in tote. I am not a praying person, but I prayed for her and her safety. I wish I had swallowed my own fear and crossed the street to make sure she was ok. I am glad I didn't keep going. I am proud that I cared; I just wished I cared more. I should have approached her immediately, but fear paralyzed me. Sadly with or without our gun control people who want to will carry them. I didn't cross the street b/c I was afraid. I should have. I was seconds away from calling the police. If I carried my phone, I would have, but I don't, so I couldn't. I learned in that moment an excuse is just that...an excuse. I did half of the right thing, but the next time I will do it wholly. I can't expect my girls to treat the members of this world with love, respect, and caring unless I show them.
I am taking on 15 this weekend. Every week as I finish I say to myself "ADDING MORE?????" But I am exited about these last 9 weeks. Crunch time baby. Game on.
Week 10: 28 miles
Lesson learned: Die trying not standing by.
When I first became a mother I fell victim to the over packed baby syndrome. A three day weekend trip required 4 bags of "just in case clothes", 2 cases of diapers, 2 cases of wipes, bath seats, highchair, snacks, breakfast, lunch, and dinner for a week, shoes that fit, shoes that might fit in case their feet grew overnight, jumpers, large pack and play, small pack and play, 10 blankets per day, receiving blankets that I never used at home, but brought b/c " I might need them". The kids were ready for anything, but when mommy went to get dressed for Christmas Eve dinner, she had no underwear (true story).
That pretty much sums it up. My kids are healthy, smart, and prepared. I however can't find my keys, sunglasses, or my watch on a daily basis. Don't get me wrong, I am not selfless, my kids are together, mom is a mess. I did focus on myself this week. Before every run I ate and drank accordingly. I fueled my body with mainly nutrients, minus the bag of sour cream and onion chips I consumed in a four day span (never shop hungry).
My long run was 14 miles. I enlisted the help of Spartan Sister and Marathon Mama (Sarah Davis). I pumped my body full of H2O the day before and carried a Gatorade/water mix during my run. Holy hydration!!! Miles 6-9 I was cruising at an 11:30 pace!!!! I felt great, assumed I looked great, and rocked it. As I ran the first five I reminded myself that my LR's don't have to be a chore. I mean for over 2 hrs I am away from the lights, sounds, sippy cup filling, tantrum wrangling, toy dodging, baby whining, dogs panting, dryer buzzing, time out dealing, bill paying, grocery shopping, meal planning, vacuum cleaning,
bathroom polishing, daily duties of my job. A job that doesn't get a Labor Day holiday or any other for that matter. It fueled me more than my magical juice. I began to embrace my "me time". For the last 9 weeks all my runs were work, week ten, 14 miles, became pleasure.
At 5:30 in the am on the streets of my Boro there aren't too many people. I literally began singing, out loud and proud. I was SINGING as each foot crushed the cool 75 degree pavement. I belted out Bon Jovi, Angie Aparo, Dixie Chicks and more.....until mile 12, apparently The Wall and I had another appointment. Little did he know I was prepared this week. I kept on. Yelling at myself "PUSH". "YOU CAN DO THIS. PUSH" I was my own doula during this run. When I pushed out my 9lb 15 oz baby girl, all naturally (seriously..no drugs) I had a WONDERFUL doula by my side. But my 14 I used all I had...Leave it all on the road. I didn't break any records, but I did a much better job. 13.1 took 3 hrs, 14 took 3:05, that is a definite improvement.
I ran. I ran well and I ran hard. I am proud of my dedication to myself, but I am semi-proud of a choice I made. I love that show "What would you do?" You know the one where they fake situations to see if human nature prevails for good or evil. My long runs I leave my humble track and run "in town". I have extended my route as my mileage has increased. Statesboro is a very safe community, but I do run through the pieces of what might be considered the outskirts of a "not so great" neighborhood. I saw 2 men on the side of the road. I immediately crossed the street. As I ran on they crossed back, so I crossed over. I was approaching a gas station that was lit up like the 4th of July. I knew if my gut said stop I would be safe there. I ran on. I soon realized there was a woman on the opposing side of the street. I took out my ear bud to hear what was going on. One of the men was SCREAMING at her, words and sentences that no one should hear. I was terrified. From my brief encounter with the threesome it appeared that they may not have been to bed yet, time approaching 6am. The yelling escalated and I ran faster. I passed the gas station with onlookers looking, but no one saying a word. I ran. But then I stopped. My own fear may lead to a woman being beaten, verbally slaughtered, or worse?? I thought of my own girls. I would want someone to make sure they were ok. I paused my workout turned around and walked to a hotel across the street from where the three were arguing. I debated my next action. I mean it isn't a crime to argue, but I was scared for her. I stood behind the bushes, seconds away from going inside to call 911, when it went silent. I jumped out from behind the bushes to see the girl getting into a car and drive away. My lips were seconds away from screaming "Are you Ok??" when I saw her get into the car.
She left with what appeared to be friends, but with the "screamer" in tote. I am not a praying person, but I prayed for her and her safety. I wish I had swallowed my own fear and crossed the street to make sure she was ok. I am glad I didn't keep going. I am proud that I cared; I just wished I cared more. I should have approached her immediately, but fear paralyzed me. Sadly with or without our gun control people who want to will carry them. I didn't cross the street b/c I was afraid. I should have. I was seconds away from calling the police. If I carried my phone, I would have, but I don't, so I couldn't. I learned in that moment an excuse is just that...an excuse. I did half of the right thing, but the next time I will do it wholly. I can't expect my girls to treat the members of this world with love, respect, and caring unless I show them.
I am taking on 15 this weekend. Every week as I finish I say to myself "ADDING MORE?????" But I am exited about these last 9 weeks. Crunch time baby. Game on.
Week 10: 28 miles
Lesson learned: Die trying not standing by.
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