For The Haters

It turns out not everyone is excited for my marathon goal. This past week, I ran into my first Negative Nancy who called me crazy for wanting to run 26.2 miles. What could possibly be the purpose of this insane, useless feat? At first, I was shocked. I'm sure many people have had this same negative reaction but they kept it to themselves. Of course, I prefer my friend's honesty over a polite smile-and-nod. I guess I expected the same cheerful, positive, and supportive response I'd been getting since I signed up for the LA Marathon a couple of weeks ago. Then I remembered how I used to feel about long distance running. The old Briana was the mayor of Downer Town. It's all about perspective.

Which is why I immediately headed to the nearest Barnes & Noble for a third dose of running Inspiration. Where would I find more books on running? Hmm...biographies, perhaps? Those are mostly of political figures or old, alcoholic movie stars. Oh, maybe Health & Fitness. Nope. Just rows of books dedicated to the latest fad diet or "dance yourself thin" book, complete with DVD and inflatable balance ball. Where the F were all the running books? Was "Born To Run" a fluke? Something I found out about only through watching the Daily Show? Finally, my journey was complete. A section never before perused by a former Miss Understood Teen USA; the Sports section. Riiiiight. Running is a sport. Of course.

I scanned the shelves for the best possible purchase. One book was endorsed by some running association, another book written by the former editor of this running magazine. Two books both claimed to be the Complete guide to running for Women; how would I choose? That's when I saw "50/50". The guy on the cover was NOT smiling in a sun-lit color-coordinated outfit, wind blowing through his hair. He was a real guy running a real race. Fifty real races, actually. Dean Karnazes had a dream. To run fifty marathons in fifty states...in fifty days. It sounded absolutely nuts! There had to be a catch of some kind. I didn't recall anyone with that name dying recently so maybe he had actually accomplished his insane goal. His dream became a reality and then he wrote a book about it. I just HAD to read it.

It's an amazing story of an average guy who just happens to be in the kind of shape where he runs 26 or 27 miles both Saturday and Sunday, every weekend, as his normal workout. He'd already run two hundred miles in one run and every year he runs a 100 mile race in extreme environments. No biggie. He also started a foundation called Karno's Kids, with the goal of teaching kids the value of running in order to fight child obesity, an enormous epidemic among America's kids (pun intended). As I read the stories of teacher's across the country following his Endurance 50 races, building lesson plans for their students, and the runner's who were inspired to drive hours to run in the Endurance 50 marathon closest to their hometowns, it became more difficult to keep my eyes from gettin' all misty.

It was Chapter Six, United We Run, that I found the inspiration I was looking for.

"I love to interact with people when they are most exposed -- when every layer of pretension and vanity has been stripped away and left strewn along the pathway. The marathon mercilessly rips off the outer layers of our defenses and leaves the raw human, vulnerable and naked. It is here you get an honest glimpse into the soul of an individual. Every insecurity and character flaw is open and on display for all the world to see. No communication is ever more real, no expression ever more honest. There is nothing left to hide behind. The marathon is the great equalizer. Every movement, every word spoken and unspoken, is radiant truth. The veil has been obliterated. These are the profound moments of human interaction that I live for."

THIS is why I want to run. Sure, I could toil away on the treadmill for the rest of my life, like a good little hamster, until all my fat melted away. Or I could run like I mean it. Isn't the choice obvious? I guess if you're naturally thin, exercise doesn't even occur to you. But when you've lived life a bit harder, tried whatever was put in front of you, and came out the other side lazy and lumpy, the time comes to step it up a notch. Get back to basics. And other cliches that only exist because they are true. That's what I want. Radiant truth. My starting line? Dodger Stadium, March 20th, 2011. I invite all the Negative Neils and Debbie Downers to come on down and see what they are made of. Or maybe you already know and don't need a marathon to show you the way. If so, you're lucky. I'm only at the beginning of my journey. And I won't stop until I'm living my life with honesty, stripped of my vanities, for all the world to see.

I want YOU to run the LA Marathon!!!

It turns out I'm a recruiter and I didn't even know it. Once I set my new goal, to run the LA Marathon, I figured the best way to commit to my goal was to talk about it. So I wrote a blog, I posted it on Facebook, and I started mentioning it to guests and co-workers at my restaurant job. Suddenly, people want to run with me! Maybe they figure if Briana can do it, they can do it. Maybe they didn't even realize they wanted that kind of challenge until they had a buddy to run with! Or maybe they want a bit of that feeling I seem to get, the light that shines in my eyes, when I talk about crossing the finish line and plunging my feet into the ocean.

If my running buddies actually sign up and commit to the marathon, I'll be running in a pack of five, which will make my goal five times more fun! If we all show up, I don't think I'll care about my finish time at all. I'll just be happy to be running with a pack, enjoy the experience of knowing that no matter how tired I become, I'm not alone. I can't wait! Doesn't it sound awesome? There's still time to join, ya know. It's not until March so there's plenty of time to train...and no limit to how big the pack can become! It could be the best $145 you'll ever spend!

CLICK HERE to register for the 2011 LA Marathon!!!

It doesn't have to be perfect, it just has to be...

Born To Run

We are all born to run, or at least we were. Men, women, and children all had their place in the pack. Why waste time bringing the meat back to the caves? Everyone was an endurance runner. There were front runners, men & women with the greatest tracking skills. Behind them, the women with babies strapped to their backs. Next were the children, followed by the pregnant women who couldn't run as fast. Finally, the strongest men, saving their strength for the kill, ran with the elders close behind. It wasn't just about the hunt, it was also about being together, sharing the run. That's exactly what I plan on doing! Two days ago, I registered to run the 2011 LA Marathon, my first marathon, and find my place in the pack. My goal is to run the marathon in under 4 hours. My plan is to train for four months, with at least one extra month of jogging beforehand to establish a base, and then enjoy the race no matter what my finish time. My objective? To discover what I'm truly made of.

When I entered high school, I was the fastest female sprinter in my class. Just like Ricky Bobby, I loved to go fast. When it came time to run the mile, I didn't. I walked most of it, with the occasional jog to make it look like I gave a shit, finishing in just over 12 minutes. My classmates mockingly clapped and cheered as me and the fat kid crossed the finish line, my middle fingers held proudly in the air. I was already the best at running short distances, so what did I care about running a mile? If the day ever comes, I thought, when I'd need to travel a mile on foot, I was certain there would be no time limit involved. I'd be just fine walking along, checking out the scenery, spending some quality time with my ever-changing, self-important teenage thoughts and feelings. My motto; I don't run unless I'm being chased.

Cut to present day. I'm 31 years old, 5'3", 138 lbs., and I have 28% body fat. That's no good. I'm definitely not fit but I'm SUPER lazy. Unless I get a lot smarter, so as to build myself a time machine or discover the Fountain of Youth, I'm not getting younger. I'm not "overweight"...yet, but I'm pushing the limit. The way I see it, I might as well push the limit the other way and see how active and fit I can be. When I was younger, I thought myself invincible (as many teenagers do). "I have all the time in the world," I'd say to anyone who thought they knew better (read: had any life experience whatsoever). Well, time's up. I'm just like everybody else, sitting on the couch, in front of the TV, at my computer, putting it off, waiting for the magic to arrive. Except there is no magic, only hard work and sweat.

Luckily, I did get a bit o' magic in the form of inspiration. Inspiration Part 1; a book called Born To Run, written by Christopher McDougall, an injured runner looking for a new way to run without killing himself. The book is not only an inspiration to runners. It's full of amazing stories of human beings, just like you and me, using their willpower to perform acts of superhuman proportions. Or they are just plain crazy. But mostly they just work hard, kick ass, and have fun! That's what's missing...FUN! I forgot how fun running could be, like when I was a kid.

Imagine running a 50 mile race in one day. Now imagine most of it is trails and rocky mountain terrain. Now imagine running 100 miles. In one day, in one race. Through Death Valley. In temperatures over 130 degrees. Wearing sandals and a big ol' smile. INsane. Yes, there are runners who take pictures and do interviews. Nothing in America is publicity stunt free. Then there are stories of people who just can't live without the wind rushing through their hair. They run because standing still would drive them crazy. If they stop, they'll get stale. That's the kind of person I could be, except I've been living without it. I've allowed myself to get stale and now I'm gonna do something about it.

Inspiration Part 2; the plan. Another book by David Kuehls (marathon runner and contributing editor for Runner's World) called 4 Months to a 4-Hour Marathon. I usually don't like it when the author keeps repeating things for effect but...Oprah ran her first marathon in 4 hours. I repeat: Oprah. Marathon. 4 Hours. That's awesome. I can't argue with Kuehls; Oprah is not, I repeat, NOT a fitness role model. But when Oprah puts her mind to something, well, you know. Talk Show, Movies, Dr. Phil's Talk Show, Book Club, Magazine, EMPIRE! I'm not saying I have Oprah's willpower (unless we're talking about chocolate cake), but maybe I do...when it comes to running. Maybe I can when it comes to living. All I know is I'd rather get up off my 28% fat ass and find out. When I do, I'm pretty sure it'll end up being the best thing I've ever done for myself. And that Matthew Sweet song starts playing in my head, "...you come to love what you used to hate, you come to find what you threw away."

All the Right Reasons

I'm not who I want to be. I'm not as productive, proactive, or any other positive "P" word I can think of, as I'd like. Too often, I procrastinate, ponder, pine, piss & moan, panic, and many other negative "P" words I can't think of right this second. What I don't think to remind myself on a daily basis is I can change. I'm human and have the ability to change, to teach myself a new routine. I'm lucky enough to have been born in America, to working class parents, making it possible for me to, well, make things possible. It takes work, that's all. Not that work isn't hard but it's supposed to be hard. To quote my favorite fictional baseball coach, "...the hard is what makes it great." I think that must be true in life. Things that are truly valued the most are those we earn. That being said, I'm turning myself into an athlete.

Now that you've stopped laughing, I'll say it again, with conviction. I'M TURNING MYSELF INTO AN ATHLETE! I'm not entering the Olympics or anything, but it's not totally out of left field either. It's actually a long time coming. I've been an athlete quite a few times in my life. When I was five years old, I played T-ball, until I got hit in the gut with a ball. In grade school, I played Soccer, Volleyball, and was even a Cheerleader. In high school, I trained as a sprinter with the Track team, until shin splints and dance classes cut my career short. Many forms of dance require stamina, strength, and flexibility. It's been ten long years since I was a trained dancer. I have a tennis racket that's been collecting dust in my closet for more than two years. It's been one year this week since I started P90X the first time. The time is now.

Recently, I was speaking to a friend about my problem, and they asked me to recall the last time I was happy. I thought this was a rather loaded, complicated question. Instead of retreating, or glossing over it with some quip or joke, I gave it my proper attention. When was the last time I felt truly proud to be me? My answer? 1996. My Senior year of high school. Why? Because I was doing absolutely everything I loved. Somehow, I was never too busy to do the things that moved me the most. I lived with passion! Singing, dancing, acting, constantly learning and growing, never stopping to ask myself if I had enough time. I MADE time. I got it done. If someone didn't understand or wasn't on board, that was their problem. I was confident and creative 100% of the time.

That was me. It's in me. I can be that way again. I have to do it or risk spending the rest of my life a walking sob story, talking about "the good old days, when I had all that potential." Hell no! Not me. I'll risk small failures over the BIG ONE every day of the week. It started yesterday when I started P90X. It felt great! Today was another sweaty success, and so will tomorrow be. And Thursday. And every day for the next 13 weeks until the P90X program is complete. When that's done, I think I'll head to the beach and try to pick up a volleyball game. Maybe I'll dust off that tennis racket, take a dance class, or start running. Who knows? The LA Marathon isn't until March...and if I'm not a great athlete that's okay. At least I'm trying. It's better than growing old and getting stale. No risk, no reward. I think Steve Guttenberg said that.