Blue noses...warm hearts

Woody Allen once said: "80% of success is showing up."

After much debate, a nagging injury and a whole lotta self doubt about doing my first half marathon, I decided to take his advice and just show up. I figured the only way to finish was to at least start.

So in the wee hours of May 17th, I sucked up my courage and joined my fellow "sweaty girls" to take on the Bluenose.

We all gathered at QB and Dale's room for some pre-race commraderie but before we knew it, it was time to climb to the start line together.



My goal time was 2hrs and 2o minutes which up until mile 9 was looking possible. Shortly thereafter though, "the arse end fell out of her" and I had to slow to a limp; unfortunately the ankle had had enough. For a few minutes I had to stand at the curb flamingo style, one leg bent up as to prevent putting any weight on it. My odd stance prompted a poilce officer to approach and ask if I needed help. I did but I told him no. Debating whether to walk off or walk on, I decided to keep going. In the end I walked/ran my way to the finish line in 2 hrs and 38 minutes. Clearly disappointed in my time I was more relieved that I hadn't quit. It wasn't easy and it certainly wasn't without pain, but few things worth doing rarely are.



But for Lisa, Susan and Debbie, they all finished within two hours...a personal best for each of them!

The day held countless memorable moments. From standing at the start line with 8000 runners,

to the thousands of spectators who stood in the rain along the entire route to cheer on loved ones and complete strangers,

from all the incredible volunteers of every age who stood tirelessly with water, jelly beans and applause,

to the police officers who stood at every intersection to stop traffic no matter how fast or slow you were going.

But for me, the absolute most memorable, meaningful moment came at the very end. With about a mile left I was feeling "done." I had just spent the last 30 minutes fighting the battle between pain and perseverance. I was wet, cold, hungry and blury eyed but as I turned one more corner, the big blue inflated finish gate came into the distant view. With the end finally in sight, I adjusted my ipod, picked up my pace and started to give 'er one last time.

At the Brunswick Street intersection just before the final climb, I could see a few people standing on the corner waving at me, more kind supporters cheering us in no doubt. In my daze, however, I couldn't really see them clearly but within a few seconds I recognized their faces; imagine how overwhelmed I was when I realized it was the very people who got me there in the first place. Apparently Lisa, Susan and her husband Dale (all of whom had finished long before) had set out to find me and shortly after they spied me emerge from the fog I too saw them. I couldn't hold back the tears when I realized that despite their own exhaustion, they had come back for me...just as they had done so many times before during our countless training runs over the last 6 months. As I drew closer, they ran out into the street, took me by the hand and proceeded to run the last 1/4 km by my side.



It couldn't have been a more perfect moment and as we crossed the finish line together, all the fatigue and self doubt completely melted away.

It was an incredible experience, not just the day of, but the journey to. The last 6 months have been trying, painful, and emotionally-draining...and I can't wait to do it all again.

I recently read in a running magazine that "race day is the celebration of all your hard work." How true indeed.

Happy Mother's Day

Since it's Mother's Day, I thought I would share a few little facts about my mom so you can have the pleasure of knowing her too!


Earliest Memory of my Mom:

It would actually have to be of her feet. I have vivid memories of looking down at them while I sat in the shopping cart as she walked through the Met in Woodstock.

Another early memory would also be when I was about 4 or 5 years old and as I ran through the garden toward the field behind our house, I notified her that I was running away, to which she replied, “Ok” and then went back inside the house. Reverse psychology at its finest.

One of my Favourite Memories:

When she came to my junior high during career week to talk about being a hair stylist. One of the most popular girls in the school came up to me at the end of the day to tell me how interesting and cool my mom was. It was perhaps the only time in junior high I was cool too.

And a more recent memory was just a couple summers ago when we visited Hirtle Beach. It was fun watching her walk around with her camera and play in the sand. Her spirit looked so free.

Her best quality:

She has many but I definitely love her laugh. And her heart. She has a HUGE heart and often wears it on her sleeve (in fact, she’s probably crying in the computer room right now as she reads this.) 


One thing everyone knows about her:

What an amazing cook she is. (And she will tell you that Grandma Stevenson taught her everything she knows!)

What I respect the most about her:

There are many things but I would have to say her commitment to her faith, especially since she lives in a world where people tell you you shouldn’t believe.

Something I’m proud of her for:

One moment in particular was when she graduated from the hair academy back in the early 80's and she won the top prize for marks. I also remember one of her fellow graduates reading a poem about what a good hair hairdresser she was but that she was also very slow. The only part of the poem I can recall is that it ended with “…but please pick up your speed” and then they presented her with a little turtle. Even though I was very young at the time, I remember thinking that she must be pretty special for someone to write a poem about her.

Three things she has taught me:

(Too numerous to choose just three, but here’s a few…)

1. You make your bed, you lay in it.
2. Everything seems better when your house is clean.
3. How to hug.


Three things she has done to make me a better person:

1. Told me when I was 15 that if I wanted new clothes, I had to earn my own money.
2. Loved me unconditionally when I was 14.  (She says I had an attitude.)
3. Starting her own business. (I learned A LOT from watching her do that.)

A few things that I probably never said thank you for:

1. All the pretty dresses she made sure I had for various events (many of which she made herself).
2. When she (and Dad) let me go to Montreal for graduation.
3. In high school when I had a broken heart, she sat on my floor for about three days to keep me company.  And then when it was time, she gave me the best "pick yourself up and move on" pep talk ever.  So I did.  :)

So glad we got to...    

1. go to Las Vegas together.
2. take a girls' vacation to Cuba with Donna and Karen.
3. take dance classes together.

Something I value that only she and I shared:

Our time spent together in her salon. Those countless hours in her chair was "our" time when we would chat, discuss life and on a few occasions work out issues between us that needed to be addressed. (Mind you in retrospect, I probably should have thought that last point through a bit better considering she was the one with scissors. :)

Three things I hope she knows about me:

1. How much I love her.
2. How proud I am of her for all that she has accomplished and for who she is.
3. I have an independent spirit because of her independent spirit.

What I love about her the most:

That’s she’s MY mommy!




Happy Mother’s Day Mom! I love you,

Tam xoxoxo

Signs.

So, after five weeks of physio for a bad ankle sprain, it's looking like the Bluenose isn't official afterall. And I've been ok with that because I can honestly say the journey over the last 6 months has been the most rewarding part of this experience.

What?? That's the truth! Allow me to quote Miley Cyrus: "It ain't about what's on the other side...it's about the climb." Hard to argue with the daughter of the man who started the entire 1993 achy breaky heart line dancing craze, no?

Ok, fine. I guess if I dig a little deeper beyond the surface of a respectable stance on the situation, I'm also scared to death of trying and failing. A "bad ankle" is also a really easy excuse in the "oh well, what can you do about it?" category.

On top of that, I'm the type of person who tends to believe in signs. And in the last month or so I've collected a few that I've convinced myself are telling me not to run. Ahem:

1. 5 weeks ago I fall during a run and sprain my ankle.

2. Two weeks ago I lose my Garmin after using it only twice. (A Garmin is a special runner's watch with a built-in GPS system that tracks your pace, distance, progress, etc. It also cost me $200 for just the base model.)

3. After last weekend's run, I develop a blister the size of Montanna on the bottom of my foot. (Which still hasn't healed by the way.)

You See? Signs. Signs that are saying "don't run Tammy." "Ok, signs. I won't."

And just as I getting used to my "Oh well, maybe next year" response, I ran into another sign yesterday morning. There, in the front lobby of the gym it took the form of a huge hand-written quote carefully scrolled on the notice board by one of the employees that said:

“The person who goes farthest is generally the one who is willing to do and dare. The sure-thing boat never gets far from shore.”


Whatever. I've always said believing in signs is stupid.