Posted on by Anelemc

4 things I learned when Margarita, my mom died

 

L. Alcohol is your best friend
It’s there when you need it
Has a wonderful numbing effect
Comes in a variety of grains, grapes and content
No instruction label is needed

O. Grief-the gift that keeps on giving
You never get over it
It pops up unexpectantly
Gives you lifelong membership in the Dead Moms Club
Holidays and Birthdays take on a somber meaning

 V. You imitate the qualities you miss and admired
“Giving is living” is now your motto
You wear silver and gold jewelry at the same time
Keep the sink clear of dishes before going to bed
Pine Sol, Vicks and Dawn (and the occasional Spam)

E. Do what your mom wanted for you 
(in other words: Listen to her advice)

      Relocate to a different city
(because she wanted you to)

      Get out socialize and make friends
(because she encouraged you to)

    Take care of yourself 
(because she knew you didn’t)

      Run the 2018 Nov NYC Marathon
(because she said you could)

Margarita, my mom, died one month before the 2018 NYC Marathon. As we watched the runners from the previous year on 4th avenue in Brooklyn, she turned to me and said, “You could do this”.  I thought she was crazy but decided to train for it. She entered the hospital the end of August with a twisted intestine and was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in September, at the height of my training. The botched-up surgery left her with a colostomy bag and fissures that leaked waste. We never got to the ‘treat the cancer’ part.  Throughout her hospital stay she’d ask if I put in the training when I came to spend the night.

It was not consistent but when she came home to die it picked up. My last long run, 19 miles around Prospect Park was interrupted by the funeral home alerting me to pick up my mother’s ashes. My mom, Margarita, was with me on race day, her ashes in a bracelet around my wrist and her name on the racing bib I wore on my chest. 

LOVE is my mom. 

Posted on by Anelemc

After the glory…or Marathon Blues 101

Wowza.

So, I did a little something on November 3rd, 2019.

That little something transpired from 6 months of training runs breezing through Spring, suffering through Summer and damn right anxious to get it over with by Fall.

I completed my 2nd TCS NYC Marathon and crossed that finish line 30 minutes faster than last years’ time at the same marathon when it was my 1st. 989336_297160320_XLarge

Oh my…

The glory is truly mine!!!

Actually, the glory will always be mom, my mom, who encouraged me to trot (run) the marathon in the first place.

So yeah.

The glory is mine anyway!!

But…

After the marathon is done, the pain in the hips and knees linger for a few days. The ravenous appetite, the rampant endorphins, Facebook pages blowing up with “Congratulations” and other accolades galore—the glory gradually dissapates.

Glory, Glory…hallelujah!

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Yesterday the doldrums came and took the place of glory, sometime after midnight, while I was trying to sleep, fighting with my greyhound over bed space she feels entitled to. Today the doldrums left and I’m back to reality.

No guts…no glory!

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Back to a schedule, back to work, back to crowded subways, back to garbage pick-up days, back to life back to reality.      

 Glory be.

 In three weeks, (God willing) I’ll be running another marathon on another Sunday, November 24, 2019 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

Got to keep chasing Glory!!!

 

 

 

Posted on by Anelemc

Running…

Running reminds me of mom

As I’d leave for a training run she would open her door on the first floor and say, “Remember to trot!”.

I’m not sure if the term’trot’ felt more secure than her visioning me running. Trotting is safe, running, well… we won’t go there.

Unfortunately, I am not as graceful as a penguin or as fast as Usain Bolt.

In comparison to penguins, their trotting is far more graceful than mine.

In comparison to running, well, I’m definitely not him.

I think I’ll just stick with ME. Running, trotting, with mom’s memories and encouragement tucked inside my heart.

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Rolling, Rolling, Rolling…no. Running, Wobbling, Running…

Marathon #2 sits on the horizon and, god willing…God Willing I’ll cross that line again.

Marathon #1 was an all-out disaster that almost didn’t happen due to my mom’s illness but did happen due to my mom’s illness and her unrelenting push for me to train.

I trained through, tears, stress, worry and crossed the line many times arguing with incompetent doctors who destroyed my mom’s will to live and her health

And,

I finally crossed THAT LINE at the end of the marathon which my mom did not live to see.

-Actually, she did see, for she was on the corner of Sackett Street and Fourth Avenue, just not in this realm and as I woggled towards that street, I stopped, crossed myself and bowed for the Queen.

So,

back to Marathon #2 in which training has not officially begun but I’ve started anyway because well, I have nothing better to do than pound my knees via my feet kissing asphalt, concrete and dirt trails.

Love the trails, love my feet, love my knees, hate the dirt.IMG_0758.jpg

And at least I’m not kissing someone’s ass

So,

I’ll tie up the laces tomorrow, that are tied already, just need to slip on the sneaker.

-(I’ll set the garmin, set the interval timer, wear the running glasses that get dark in the sun, put on the Panache Bra, set up the Spotify, put on the lip balm, make the Nunn for the water bottle, separate Tara-Habby from the treacherous cat posse  (worse than the Sharks but just like the Jets) out to dethrone the Queen ( not me this time)  and ultimately sit on the throne (corner of my bed).)

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The Green Throne

And hit the road…not like Jack in Ray’s song for

I’ll be coming back, god willing.

 

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St. Jude or Running a Marathon to Raise Donations…

Hello Followers,

If you remember, last year I trained like a Banshee to run in the Brooklyn Rock n Roll Half Marathon. My first half and my intro in fundraising for St Jude.

I had hoped to do the same for 2018 but unfortunately the Brooklyn Rock n Roll Half Marathon was cancelled!!!

Ok. What to do now?   13466516_10209962306080030_2975883067454432056_n

Tie St Jude into my first ever TCS NYC Marathon!!!!

Long runs and tapering have begun along with the sweat and tears of wtheck am I doing?

I’m gonna run a marathon and with the help of the one and only HIM (yes the Episcopalian in me is speaking), I’ll make my way across that finish line.

I remembered griping about that ‘registration fee’ for the TCS Marathon and although I knew it was coming, it was hard to lay out the money when it was due. That being said, I would like to raise the entry fee (plus a bit more) for St Jude Hospital. 33020104_10216735804493257_7361619764055113728_n

My initial modest goal of $300 was reached and surpassed today by two very generous co workers! Thank you Peeps! Although the goal was reached, I’d like to continue to raise funds until November 4th- the day of the Marathon! I would gladly appreciate any amount donated, no matter how big or small  for I believe in the work this hospital does.

Here are some of their highlights:

  • Families never receive a bill from St. Jude for treatment, travel, housing or food — because all a family should worry about is helping their child live.
  • Treatments invented at St. Jude have helped push the overall childhood cancer survival rate from 20% to more than 80% since it opened more than 50 years ago. St. Jude is working to drive the overall survival rate for childhood cancer to 90%, and they won’t stop until no child dies from cancer.

Please donate and help me give a bit back to St Jude in appreciation for being a wonderful support through my first 2018 Brooklyn Rock n Roll Half Marathon and most importantly for the kids and their families! 16864938_10212549332474073_1262931473686024038_n

Please use this link for donations:  http://fundraising.stjude.org/site/TR?px=4395453&pg=personal&fr_id=90465

FUNDRAISING.STJUDE.ORG
Posted on by Anelemc

Running in the rain…or Bling desperation

So…

I ran a half marathon-13.1 miles on Saturday.

I ran it on the mean streets, oops, the gentrified streets of Brooklyn.

The race started on the sidewalk of the cosmetically altered Botox on concrete gone wrong Brooklyn Museum and ended on the newly reinstalled wood weather treated planks of the boardwalk in the now Russian enclave of Coney Island.

So…

It was raining.

Not the drizzly refreshing kinda rain but the giant pouring rain drops slapping your head and oozing down your face kinda rain. The drizzly refreshing came towards the end but as soon as I crossed that finish line the slapping drops returned! My glorious finish was photographed in the arms of Peter Ciaccia, president of NYRR running events and a big supporter of those who are referred to as the ‘back of the packers’. In other words, back of the packers are the ones who finish the race long after the after post-race party has ended and the disgruntled looks from volunteers who had been out in the elements since 4am want to go home to a hot shower but are stuck out there waiting for your ass to cross the line, so they can break it down and cart the shit back to storage and finally…go home. 60938147_race_0.4027700976311832.display

So…

My first time running in the rain.

A brutal lesson in feeling downright accomplished at making it through the course then feeling soaking wet cold and miserable enough to forgo that Nathan’s hot dog and beer. All week leading up to running the half visions of hotdogs in buns slathered in sauerkraut and mustard danced in my head. Twirling round and round the hotdogs danced moving towards my mouth where slowly, they would be decimated, eaten and conquered.

So…

The vision of hot dogs was fleeting.

It was replaced by my yearning to get my soaking, wet butt home to stay under a hot shower until eternity or the hot water heater gave out.

So…

I ate pizza.

It wasn’t the same satisfaction of eating a dancing hot dog but it had to do. Two slices, plain, nothing fancy and it landed in my gut with a thud and stayed for two days. 33020104_10216735804493257_7361619764055113728_n

So much for running in the rain…or Bling desperation.

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On Running…or random acts of self-gloating.

Running, seriously keeps me in the moment, in the present, with thoughts dabbing tearfully at the past and  plans my hand enjoys squashing like a giant bug swatter dealing with the future.

The act of running,

Is not running…

It’s training to run. IMG_2504

Training is…

Humiliating, teaching one to be humble during a race as gastrointestinal issues make an unexpected appearance before hitting a porta potty. Once there, one recuperates, cursing the lack of tp and continues afterwards with the…

Training that becomes…

Humbling, when a cocky self assured self decides to run a ½ marathon without the training and ends up puking on the side of the running path. Once there, one recuperates cursing at not having the time to train and continues afterwards with the…

Training that inspires…

Aspirations which turn into goals and thus become accomplishments. Once there, one recuperates, cursing at not recognizing what the hard work was for and duh, reveling in the feely, good thingys not only felt but held close to the heart.IMG_2503

Well, those are my thoughts on running or random acts of self-gloating.

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Not in Kansas anymore…or…AND, OR , BUT.

My running season goals of 2017 were:

  1. To be social and branch out of solely running Ppark (Prospect Park)
  2. Graduate from the 5k’s with the tee shirt award to the 10k’s with the tee shirts AND medal awards

Guess what?

Achieved, done, concluded, fulfilled, ended, over and done with!!IMG_2078

Goals are the wish lists we formulate and attempt to complete… OR…fail while doing so.

Failure…

At times, staying in ‘Kansas’ may be the road block which caused the goal failure to begin with. Comfort-ability does have its snags… BUT… so does taking that initial step to ‘make it happen’ and tripping,  falling flat on your face and ending up in a hospital bed, thinking , ‘How the hell did that happen?’

Well, as John Lennon said, “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans”.

And so it does…life happens.

The running goals for 2017 were not going to happen if I continued to run alone in Ppark doing the same thing, the same way, everyday. IMG_2079

Change.

It had to come so I joined a running group, paid the joiner’s fee with money borrowed and not paid back. This major shift gave the best results as my running goals were met as well as having social running buddies. Aspirations and new goals are up a notch for 2018 (God willing because we know he can be tricksy sometimes).

So…

There are no AND, OR ,BUT to change. No excuses.

Just do it.IMG_2075

 

 

 

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Curses and Blessings or Running around in Purgatory since Training is one step above Hell and one step down from Heaven…

Wowza, what a can opener of a title!

But…

Titles ain’t nothing but a bunch of words struggling to rise to importance above the mediocre of other titles with a bunch of words struggling…

Okay. I stop.

In between days or rather in between jobs trying to figure out where to go from where I’ve been. Vet medicine is amazing when things go right, amazing when things go wrong, amazing.

Except…

When you work with people:

-who wear fur coats

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– who abusively use anti barking shock collars on their dogs

– who state you are “too nice with the animals” when restraining

– who laugh at you trying to comfort an animal coming out of anesthesia

-who only croon over the ‘cute ones’ while the ugly ones continue to stress from fear due to neglect not only from the previous owners but now the vet staff

-who come in to work with the alcohol from last night on the breath stench

-who sip Irish whiskey while rounding

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Okay. I stop.

Ruminating about the past, sours the moment of the present and surely delays the arrival of the future.

So…

I return to Curses and Blessings, which have nothing to do with the career I once loved, now loathe and in the process of giving up, but to running.

Yes, running.

The one thing keeping me sane right now and out of this place.

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Have you ever heard of a runner going postal on the supermarket line or better yet going postal waiting for the subway?  imgres

Running (interval running in my case) gives me endorphins which are free, and produced by my brain (your brain as well). Endorphins are pain reducers and create within the body a feeling akin to morphine.

Are Endorphins addictive?

Not sure.

Ask Eminem.

2017 is the year of the 10k and the ½ marathon races. A graduation from the 5k’s of 2016. I have yet to run a 10k, (April 9th is the first one) and the ½ marathon is not until October. Nevertheless, it is the year for transition and changes, literally and figuratively.

Now. Back to the title, the can opener which began this work of words.

While I run I listen to an eclectic bunch of music which I classify as Curses (sex, drugs, rnr, rehab and Led Zepplin (sigh) ) and blessings (chanting, Buddhism, Catholicism and Godspell-the musical) all within the scope of: opera, classical, disco, rap, rock (old school) new wave, county and so forth.

Take Led Zepplin. Curses or Blessings?

How about Buddhism chants? Curses or Blessings? (careful with your choice here)

I run.

Through transition and changes, figuratively and literally.

I run.

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Posted on by Anelemc

To run the impossible…NOT!

As most of you know I’ve been running/intervals.

Running races, running away depression, running away weight-basically running! 2016 was the year of the 5k, 3.1 more or less in mileage and in Ppark where my comfort level rests comfortably and yet…

There is the desire to move forward and forward I did go with a personal distance best of 7 miles during the summer. So looking forward to what 2017 may bring and yes it is the year of moving beyond comfort.

This year, GOD willing and with HIS help, I’m choosing to run for more than myself. I feel the need to give back in some way, most especially with the fear of uncertainty running (pun) rampant right now.

For 2017,  I’m using my running to help save kids’ lives by fundraising for St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital as I train. I’m running for kids who might be too sick to run today, but who could one day be running alongside me (beating my butt) because the money I raised helped find a cure for childhood cancer. No automatic alt text available.

I’m attracted to St Jude for numerous reasons. For starters, families never receive a bill for treatment, travel, housing or food. St Jude concentrates on treating children and parents have the opportunity to be there alongside them instead of worrying where the finances are coming from in terms of treatment.

Please, Please donate at:

http://heroes.stjude.org/emccalla

Help me reach my goal of $500 for this is BIGGER than any of us and kids deserve the chance to recover and do great things! 🙂 !

Thank you so much!

Elena