I will be running the 2012 New York City Marathon with the Katy Perry Blue Wig. Thank you to all who have donated to my cause. I am blessed to have you in my life. For those who would still like to give, please consider giving to Jess’ Boston Walk page – her company will match donations made to her page dollar for dollar. The link is —>HERE<—.
Because you beat the deadline by a full day, I will be wearing this for Boston 13.1 on Sunday:
Thank you again! You are amazing! I am blessed to know you. I am lucky to have you. I am humbled by your friendship.
Did you see the story about the young man with Down’s Syndrome who was denied a seat in First Class on an American Airlines flight because the pilot considered him a flight risk?
You can find the Huff Po piece —>HERE<— and American Airlines’ public response —>HERE<—.
I found this story to be horrifying, not only as the parent of a Special Needs Child, but as a member of the human race. According to the news story from PIX 11 (link found at the top of the Huff Po piece) the pilot observed the young man and determined he would be a flight risk up in First Class. Since 9/11, the doors to the cockpit have been remade to withstand attacks from terrorists. How does a person with Down’s Syndrome fall into the same category as a terrorist? If he is truly a flight risk, how is that they then moved him to the back of a United Airlines flight? I imagine that if a person is a flight risk they are just as much a flight risk in First Class as they are in Steerage. How does this happen?
The answer is simple – ignorance.
The pilot made assumptions when he saw Bede Vanderhorst. Whatever it is he thought he knew about people with Down’s Syndrome, he applied that to Bede, without so much as trying to understand any of the alleged behavior he says he saw him displaying, and made his decision.
This combination of ignorance and assumption is what keeps me up into the wee hours of the night – until there is a critical mass of awareness and understanding in the world of those with disabilities, ANY DISABILITY, how will my Brooke get by once she is an adult? Will I always have to be there to explain to every ignoramus why his assumptions about her are wrong? If this can happen to Bede, it can happen to my Brooke and any other child or adult who doesn’t fall under what others might consider typical.
Admittedly, there are two sides to every story, and we may not have all of the information available. The Vanderhorsts have been very vocal in their complaint. American Airlines on the other hand has handed out a simple statement and left it at that. The airlines responded to a tweet of mine by directing me to the Facebook page. Apparently the Department of Transportation is opening up an investigation of the incident. I imagine that closed-circuit video of the gate will bear out the truth.
But I come back to the bigger topic at hand, and that’s the concept of making assumptions based on ignorance. One of the greatest weapons against ignorance that we, as a caring society, have is awareness. Awareness is the first step toward understanding and acceptance. The thing is, this awareness thing, it IS working. I see it in the halls of my daughter’s school and in the window panes of local shops. People, every day people, are starting to shift. Sure there is going to be the inevitable asshole who will find pleasure in making fun of those he doesn’t understand, but to some degree, I see change happening…slowly, but happening. Heck, President Clinton mention both Down’s Syndrome and Autism in his speech on Wednesday night at the DNC. Progress – it’s happening!
But what really frightens me is that some people who are in positions of power, say like this pilot or a congressman speaking on women’s reproductive rights, will decline the opportunity to truly understand the science or psychology of a situation because they do not want to appear weak. They will ignore facts and push on with what they “believe” is right without listening to what’s really going on. Guess what? That is the action of a weak minded, weak willed person who is afraid that reality could shatter their long held views of the world. Declaring something with authority doesn’t make it right – in fact, it is often a sign of inner weakness. Yes, Bede’s mom was sobbing and his father was in shock. Yes, sobbing and shock don’t lend themselves to allowing a person to be particularly articulate, but it is the duty of our leaders to lead and to listen empathetically to those in pain, not bristle and put up walls. It takes a strong man or woman to open themselves up to the possibility that they are not only wrong, but grossly wrong. The bittersweet thing of it is that I find that strength more in the neighbor, the friend’s mother, the grocery bagger than in those who hold positions of power.
If we’re going to move forward as a nation, our leaders, both nationally and at the business and community level, are going to have to learn that admitting they are wrong, no matter how hard it may be, is not a sin, and is often the path to a better place.
Don’t know what #Kipped means? Read my story on it —>HERE<— and then, if you’ve been #Kipped, come back and buy the T-Shirt —>HERE<—. A variety of styles for men and women available.
I have this friend on Twitter – well, to actually say we are friends might be a little weird considering that we have never met. We are also very different in our world views (though probably not as different as our politicians and media would like us to believe).
He is Red. I am Blue.
He is voting for Romney. I am voting for Obama.
Our views on domestic, foreign and social policy fall on the Right and Left side of the aisle respectively.
There is very little that he and I agree on.
However, were I ever to come face to face with this Twitter friend, I would probably hug him like a long lost sibling. I guarantee that we would find the closest bar and share many beers while we debate politics and both laugh and cry together at the state of today’s government (well, maybe he would laugh while I cry and I would laugh while he cries). At the end of the evening we would shake hands heartily, exchange a warm hug and be on our ways back to Red and Blue land.
How is this even possible? How is that when our Congress(wo)men shout at each other instead of talking to each other, when we see protestors getting violent with each other on TV, when we have finger pointing but no accountability on either side that I am so sure this Twitter friend and I would get along just fine?
Because we are both runners – long distance, minimalist runners. We are living proof of people who, in his words, get “the most rewarding parts of running – camaraderie and self improvement”.
We have a bond that crosses time, politics, gender and religion. Is long-distance running stronger than those topics? No, but it allows us realize and understand that despite our differences, we are one people; that, in the words Bill Clinton spoke so eloquently last, “we are all in it together”.
This is one of the many reasons I love running, particularly long-distance running. The long distance running community doesn’t care if you are Red or Blue, it doesn’t care if you are fast or slow, it doesn’t care what your race, religion or gender are. The community simply asks, do you run? Great! Then you are part of us.
Which is why it saddens me so much to read about a guy like Kip Litton. You can read an article on him in the New Yorker —>HERE<—-. I’m warning you now, the story is absolutely fascinating and hard to put down once started. In a nutshell, Litton is a marathoner who has cheated his way onto the podium with supposed sub-3:00 times in countless marathons (including three I raced in) all in the name of raising funds for his youngest child, who had cystic fibrosis. In reading the article and exploring the links in the story, despite being angry at Litton, I can’t help but feel some sadness as well.
On my Facebook page I poked fun at Paul Ryan for misclaiming (I don’t think that’s actually a word) that he had run a 2:50 something marathon. I have to admit, as a veteran of 10 marathons with a personal best of 3:19, I was a little miffed. It was almost as is he were taking the accomplishment of running 26.2 miles lightly. The truth is, Paul Ryan has run one marathon – one that he may not have even trained seriously for. He could very easily fall into the category of people who tell me, “oh, you missed qualifying for Boston by 8 minutes? I’m sure you’ll get it in the next one, no problem! I mean really, what’s 8 minutes out of three and half hours?” not realizing the magnitude of improving my pace by over 18 seconds per mile for 26.2 miles. Paul Ryan may be a fitness buff, but unless he’s competing in road races on a regular basis, it’s quite possible he had no clue about what he was saying. Like I said, I was miffed at Ryan, but in the end, it really didn’t matter – plus, I already was not voting for him based on his stance on social issues (a topic for another day and my other blog – http://luau2012.wordpress.com/)
But Litton is a different animal. Here is a guy who pathologically has cheated in marathon after marathon, denied any wrongdoing and completely missing the point of training and running these races. As my Red Twitter friend stated, the point of running, particularly longer distances, is the camaraderie and self-improvement. I would add one more thing – it’s about self-discovery – finding out just what you can accomplish with hard work. Ultimately, when you run a marathon or ultra-marathon, you are really only racing against, and for, one person – yourself; that same person that you go to bed with every night and wake up with and look in the mirror at every morning. When I ran my 3:19:19 at Smuttynose in 2010, I looked in the mirror the next morning knowing I had accomplished something I had never done before. I then looked at the various pictures of me running with friends, both old and just made during the race and celebrating with them afterward.
Camaraderie, self-improvement, self-discovery.
How does Kip Litton look in the mirror in the morning without looking at his own reflection with disappointment and disgust? and then how does he face those he may run with?
The mystery remains as to how Litton was able to cheat his way to his string of sub-3:00 marathons. We may never know exactly how he did it. He is, if nothing else, a great magician of the road.
But he will never understand the true joy that running can bring if you simply run YOUR best – the joy of friends, the joy of making oneself better, the joy of breaking through barriers.
***turns out that this type of behavior may not be unique to Litton – my buddy MK has pointed out a few incidences where others have been caught cheating. Here’s a video clip of a guy pretty much caught yet STILL denying any wrongdoing:
When I hold the door or a gate for someone I usually expect a thank you. When I don’t get one I will very often prompt the people I’ve let through with a somewhat strong toned “You’re welcome!” I simply believe good manners are a good, easy thing.
So I was about to bark “You’re welcome” at an older woman and her adult daughter yesterday as they obliviously chatted their way through the gate I was holding when something in the daughter’s voice, something familiar, stopped me. For whatever reason I could not put my finger on at the time, I bit my tongue and simply kept the “how rude” thought inside my head.
This gate was an entrance to a pool that led to a beach where we are on vacation. I had actually just finished a 10 mile run across this small island, so maybe, I thought, they were just frightened by the smelly runner guy in the funny looking shoes.
An hour or so later I took Brooke out to the beach. At one point, we plopped down in the sand. I sat and watched as she explored the sand. It’s one of her favorite activities at the beach. As I watched her, something caught my eye in the distance. About 100 feet beyond Brooke, the daughter I had held the door for was standing in the edge of the water.
She was observing the waves, I mean really observing them – examining them as they went by her ankles. She then stepped further into the water, stretched out her arms and embraced a series of waves as they came at her one after the other.
The enjoyment was pure – 100% pure – untainted by any thought of what she might look like to others. It was beautiful to watch. Suddenly I realized why her voice sounded so familiar – the tone, the rhythm, the texture of her voice was very much like those of Brooke’s.
Was this young lady autistic? I could not tell you with 100% certainty, but I would not have been surprised. And so I watched, this strange time tunnel – me, Brooke playing in the sand, then just 100 feet beyond her in a straight line, this young lady.
I almost felt as if I may be looking 15 years into the future.
Soon after, the young woman’s mother called her over. She joined her mother and father for a walk along the beach. As they approached, the young woman flapped her arms ever so slightly and I was tempted to ask the whole family a plethora of questions, all variations of “how have the last 15 years been?” but I remained seated in the sand, watching them stroll away while keeping a watchful eye on Brooke.
I don’t know their story, but I did get to see one snapshot of their lives.
I finally pulled the trigger last week – I officially signed up to run the New York City Marathon for the third year in a row.
And for the third year in a row, I will be running as a charity runner – raising funds for the organization that is particularly close to my heart – Autism Speaks. I had held off signing up for so long this year because I was busy recruiting many of you to run Boston 13.1 on September 16th (also for Autism Speaks – If you haven’t signed up to run, there are still spaces available. Sign up —HERE—).
I could go on and on about why I am running and why I need your help, but it really comes down to this: Autistic people like Brooke face a wide range of challenges both as children and as adults. Autism Speaks tries to take these challenges on from several different angles – funds raised go to scientific research, social services, development of employment opportunities, and raising awareness.
They work tirelessly to make the world a better place for my Brooke and all autistics who are both like and not like her – that’s how wide the spectrum is.
So I come to you, hat in hand, asking for your help. I have agreed to raise $3000 by November 4th (that’s on top of the $500+ I’ve already raised for Boston 13.1). Whether it’s $5, $10, $20, $50, $100 or even the whole darned $3000, I’m asking for your help.
Every dollar counts.
Last year, because you put Jess & I over $10,000 for the Boston Autism Walk, I dyed my hair blue for the marathon. I figured it would be pretty boring if I did the same thing again, so I’m going to mix it up a little while maintaining the theme. This year, if you get me to my goal of $3000 by October 15th, I will run in this:
It should make me easy to spot along the way.
Now, if you all really go crazy and get me to my goal of $3000 before September 15th (that’s only a few weeks away), I might just be convinced to run in this:
Come on…you know you want me to do it! And the truth is, I do owe Katy Perry something for nudging me in the direction I find myself (free training session for you Katy should you ever find yourself in the Boston area). If it does come to this one though, I may reserve the right to put it up in a ponytail if it gets too hot.
Speaking of Ms. Perry, you may know I am currently working toward a CSCS certification that will allow me to officially work as a personal/team trainer. My plan is to be certified by the end of March 2013. How is this significant? For every $25 donated, I will put the donator’s name into a hat (so $100 would be 4 entries). On November 1st, I will have Brooke draw out a name. The winner will receive (after I am certified) 3 training sessions that will include on top of that a full nutritional and physical intake evaluation and a long term program to get you where you want to be. Hopefully, after three sessions, you will still want to work with me!
If you live outside of New England, I could use some credit card miles to fly to you for a weekend or we could do something via Skype – we can work out those details later.
A lot of people have tried to change their unhealthy lifestyles into healthy ones – whether it is changing the way they eat or starting a new exercise regimen, the goal is the same: becoming a healthier, stronger, happier person.
Without fail, those people stumble; they fall off the wagon and pig out on junk food, smoke a pack of cigarettes or sit on the couch for a week. An overwhelmingly large percentage of those people will then decide that they’ve failed in their attempt to change and meekly go back to their unhealthful ways.
***
Cue open palm slap to forehead!
***
I’m here to tell you that stumbling is good; that failure is the path to success. If you don’t fall off the wagon early on in your attempt to change, then you’re doing a disservice to yourself.
As humans we need to overcome obstacles. The greater the obstacle, the greater the satisfaction when we achieve our goal; the more precious we feel our accomplishments.
If change were always easy, it wouldn’t be worth it. So when we fail for an hour, a day, or a week, we are only adding to the greatness of our eventual success.
And that is what we MUST believe in – our eventual success. Because whether you fail for an hour or a day or a week, if you can get back up, dust yourself off and begin moving forward again toward that goal of a healthier, stronger, happier you, then you are not defeated.
Am I espousing purposeful failure? Heavens No!!! But I am advocating not giving in to failure; not being afraid of failure – because I believe that ultimately you must fail to truly succeed.
If you fall of your wagon, grab your totem, take a deep breath and start anew.
It may not be easy. In fact, it may take a lot of work, but in the end, it will be well worth it. Exercise is key, but what you fuel up with is a good 80% of the equation! Don’t let the limitations that others would put on you stop you from becoming the Superwoman (or Superman) you know you can be.
30 – 50 miles of running a week means I can eat fried chicken, cheeseburgers, pizza, fries, beer, wine, bourbon, tequila, soda, pumpkin pie, candy, pastries, pasta, white bread, ho-ho’s, twinkies, sticks of butter, and a tub of crisco and it won’t add a single inch to my waistline – all because I run. I run and run and run and that’s why I’m thin/slender/lean – that’s why no matter what I eat, I still look good!
that’s right…anything I want…
…
Okay, well, no…not really.
But a lot of people assume that. They’ll look at me and say, “boy, you must be able to eat whatever you want!” If I choose to indulge in something decadent while out with non-runners, the response around the table is, “he can do that because he runs so much.”
Those statements are only half true.
The truth is that I can run the way I do because I eat healthfully; I don’t regularly eat the fried chicken, cheeseburgers, pizza, fries, beer, wine, bourbon, tequila, soda, pumpkin pie, candy, pastries, pasta, white bread, ho-ho’s, twinkies, sticks of butter, and a tub of crisco – and BECAUSE I generally eat healthfully, I can occasionally indulge in a ridiculous meal without having to pay the price for it on my waist.
***
Physical activity is a huge part of being in good cardiovascular shape. However, I could run a marathon a day for a year, but if I ate like crap, I would continue to look like I ate like crap.
eat like crap…feel like crap.
Eating healthfully doesn’t need to mean eating grass, nuts and berries. There are plenty of websites out there with tasty recipes. Personally, my taste buds can be satisfied as long as whatever I’m making involves olive oil, lemon juice, some chili powder and a dash of kosher salt. The point is, you can still eat “well” while eating healthfully.
It all starts with what you fuel your body with. If you normally feed your body junk, it’s gonna look, and way more importantly FEEL, like junk. Feed it right, and the junk will eventually peel away, leaving you looking better because you’re FEELING better! Your energy level will rise, your ability to be active will soar, and running (or whatever physical activity you choose) will become easier – you may lose a lot of weight OR you may remain the same weight and simply redistribute it into leaner, denser, sexier muscle.
***
Yes, I CAN eat anything…every once in a while.
But it’s not because I run marathons; it’s because most of the time, what I choose to eat is tasty, satifying and good for me.
After my missed BQ at Sugarloaf this year it was suggested to me that maybe I could make another go at it at Smuttynose in the fall. The thinking was that with the new qualification standards for Boston, registration wouldn’t necessarily be closed as of September 30th.
I never did sign up for Smuttynose, and truly, even though there is space left, I would have no shot at training properly with only six weeks to go. I do have another marathon on already the schedule. Early November I am running New York. Conceivably, with about 11 1/2 weeks to go, I could consider running New York as a qualifier but that is a tough race to run at that pace. The truth is between studying for my CSCS certification, the girls being home from summer camp and dedicating my Sundays to training runs for the Team Up with Autism Speaks charity runners (if you haven’t signed up, please do —>– HERE –<—!!!) I haven’t had much time to train period. Early mornings are spent studying, days are spent keeping the kids active and entertained and evenings are spent cooking, dishwashing, putting everyone to bed and writing.
I know, I can hear you telling me, well, why not after everyone goes to bed?
Yesterday I wrote about finding your H-Spot – your happy zone. The place where you look at yourself in the mirror and are happy with the physical you that stares back. That H-Spot can be applied to everything. I’ve reached a place where I know I BQ’s once and came close on two other occasions. My happy place with running right now is helping others reach distances they never have before and getting the occasional personal run in.
And I’m finally okay with that.
Boston will wait. Training to qualify for Boston is on indefinite hold.
This satisfaction will not last forever. I know that eventually, I will want to get back to the pursuit of that elusive unicorn; I will want to toe the line in Hopkinton once again as a qualifier. It might be next year; it might wait until I’m 45. Whenever it is, I know I’m in a happy spot right now – plus, there is a certain satisfaction in having no fear of the 26.2 mile distance when I am running just for fun as I will be once again doing in New York.
There’s only room for so much on one’s dinner plate – and right now, I am satisfied with what’s before me.
If you want to start your own #CharityStreak pick up the Charity Miles app and start raising money for your favorite charity simply by walking, running or biking:Get the Charity Miles app:
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