Countdown to Marathon day

It is 33 days until my marathon. 

In those 33 days, I have on my schedule:

3 bodypump classes

4 1-hour easy runs

53 miles to run, divided into some long run days to include a half marathon

a hike to Eagle Rock

a sprint workout

5 30-40-20 min easy/shakeout runs

It's been a lot of hours and a lot of miles.  

I am feeling more prepared than I ever thought I could feel.  

Everyday I complete a workout, I am overcome with gratitude of the people around me who help me get better with every step.  When I have long miles to do, there is the run club and the coaches on Saturday mornings.  When I have to get in an early morning workout, there is Amy with her smiles and hugs at 530am at the front of the church down the street.  When there is a speed workout, there is Jessica to run back and forth with me in front of her house.  When there is strength training and bodypump classes to attend, there is Vicki to meet me after work to challenge our limbs with whatever Lloyd has in store for us.  There are encouraging words and advice from all of my friends.  And there is always Angela to help me download the way I am feeling and make adjustments along the way.  

It really takes a village.  My village is amazing. 

Yesterday I had an appointment with Anita to soothe my tired muscles after weeks of working them to fatigue.  She is part of my training village.  She is quite possibly the best massage therapist I have ever gone to, with an empathic sense and an impressive background of working with the SDSU track team.  She knows an athlete's body.  hehe--see what I did there?  I referred to myself as an athlete. It's been a long time since I have thought of myself in that way.  She made my lower back feel better, as I work to increase the strength in my core.  She worked my quads and my hamstrings and calves so they can respond well to what the next few weeks have in store for them.  She helped to lengthen the muscles along my spine so there is room for everything to do what it is supposed to do underneath my skin.  She gave me tips on good stretching exercises to implement in my day and before my runs.  I spent an hour with her and was given her care and expertise.  

I feel so blessed.  

When I walked into my home, I was greeted with hugs from my sweet husband and nuzzles from my loving pup.  I am given the room and the time from my family to pursue this dream of running 26.2 miles through the city and up the dreaded 163 freeway, even though I often come home and retreat to bed after a few moments of love from the people who mean the most to me.  The fact that Chris made sure the kitchen was clean to relieve my anxiety over things not being in their place was a happy reminder of how support shows itself in many ways.  

It's remarkable how easy sleep comes when the things that surround me are calm and when my heart knows it is safe.  Blessings abound daily. 

I was recently speaking with some people about a very cool project I am involved in.  I am often humbled by the words my friends use to describe me, and yet I know it is because I am living my life  the way I am supposed to.  I also know I had to learn many lessons along the way to be the person I am today.  It was a very big exercise in growth, to say the least.  I was an angry, hurt and hard individual in my past life.  I was arrogant and ignorant of people's feelings.  My tongue was quick with a hurtful retort if someone fired in my direction.  I am not proud of myself or who I was during that time.  Anyway, during the conversation with these esteemed people for our project, I was given compliments that I take to heart.  But the truth is, as much as people show appreciation for my friendship now, I am the one who is blessed beyond measure by those of you in my life.  

Everyday I wake up grateful for my family.

Everyday I wake up grateful for my friends. 

Everyday I wake up grateful for a job that I enjoy. 

Everyday I wake up grateful to be living where I do. 

Everyday I wake up grateful for YOU!  

And everyday I wake up grateful that I get to run and be healthy and attempt to do something only a small percentage of the population have done. 

Marathon day is coming up.  We have some very cool plans to keep my head in the game and to stop the degrading conversations I tend to have with myself from happening.  I remind myself daily of my blessings and why I am doing this.  

Marathon day is coming up and I get to prove that I run marathonS.  Not just A marathon.  Those who know, know exactly what I mean by that.  

Marathon day is coming up and I get to share the course with friends who have been there for the miles upon miles of training.  

Marathon day is coming up and I get to celebrate the victory that comes with crossing a finish line that started with a single decision in the Fall of 2023 to do something bigger than me for someone who means everything to me. 

Marathon day is coming up.  We-because all of us have been a part of my journey-- We are going to crush it!  

And I am so blessed and so grateful I get to share it with you.  

A Love Letter To Japan

Dear Japan, 

For years, I knew of you, but we never met. 

My dreams were always of visiting and experiencing the art and lands of other places.  Every year for the first day of January there were be a new calendar on my wall of the places I was manifesting to visit:  Greece, Italy and France were always my choices.  Even though my list was long of where I hoped to see, these were the three I hoped I would step foot in first.    

Kay Kay asked me to join her on her quest to the race that would earn her 6th star of the Abbott World Major Marathons, which would be in your city, Tokyo.  It took me only moments to agree to the trip.  At the time, little did we know it would be another 3 years before we would arrive.  Covid and border closings and race cancellations and injuries made the trip seem so far away.  For a long time, I wasn’t sure it was going to happen.  

Our plane tickets were purchased in November.  Once mid-January arrived, I allowed myself to look into things to do.  Before we knew it, it was February 27 and we were on the Boeing 767 Dreamliner-probably the nicest plane I have ever had the pleasure to travel.  

Because we crossed the international date line, we arrived at the Haneda airport at 4pm the next day, despite it being a 12 hour flight and leaving before noon.  I was in awe the moment I stepped foot off the plane.  The airport was bright and clean.  The first thing I experienced was the restroom, which is a whole new experience that I will have to go into later.  It deserves it’s own complete thought because I was astonished at the warm seats and the white noise and the bum cleaner with a flush you wave your hand in front of—-I must have one of these in my home!!  😁  It became conversation starters at every turn because we all loved them so much.  😍

Our hotel for the first 5 days of our trip was beautiful.  What I didn’t know was that it was located so close to where I would experience some of my favorite moments.  

Every person of Japanese descent we met from the minute we arrived until the second we departed exuded kindness and helpfulness and cheerfulness.  It was easy to smile when these were the attributes I encountered on a daily basis.

Japan, the beauty of your country is astounding.  On the tour we took, we visited the peaceful magnificence of the Meiji-Jingu Shrine.  I left an important prayer for my family in their prayer garden.  We saw the grandeur of the grounds surrounding the Imperial Palace.  I learned of the importance of the meaning of pine trees-they signify prosperity and longevity.  We visited and marveled at the immensity of the Tokyo Tower.  Going up to the top was a feat of bravery on my part; I am very afraid of heights.  We were rewarded with sweeping views of Tokyo, even a glimpse of the elusive Mt Fuji.  However, she is very shy, and she was soon engulfed in her cloak of clouds after we caught a peek of her peak.  We visited the ancient Buddhist Temple, Senso-Ji, the oldest in Tokyo.  I was in awe of the ancient grounds and the young girls wearing traditional kimono in the adjacent marketplace.  

The sites and smells and sounds took my breath away at every turn.  

Every chance I got, I tried some new food.  I am not typically very adventurous when it comes to things to eat, but I left my comfort zone as much as I could and tasted things along the way.  

Tokyo, you led me to test my bravery in new situations-and it brought me to the most epic night of the trip.  My friend was tired and had to rest her legs before her race, so I headed to a pre-booked back alley food and bar tour alone.  After getting off the bus in the center of Shinjuku and taking in all of the lights around me, I met my group:  a young man from Italy, a newlywed couple from the UK and another couple from Australia, with our tour guide.  We spent the evening trying new food and drinks through the alcoves of a city lit up with neon and 3-D billboards and I felt so alive.  I beamed and laughed and skipped my way through the streets.  After our last stop, we were having so much fun together that we decided to karaoke.  We found a karaoke place to hang out-in Tokyo you rent a room and order drinks and sing with your group in your own little space, instead of a big bar in front of a lot of different people, like we do back home.  I spent an hour smiling and laughing and playing tambourine and even belting out a few bars in a room with these new friends, in the city where this adventure was born.  I couldn’t believe I was living this life.  Fun!  Joyful!  Epic! 

Tokyo, you wished me the happiest of birthdays the next day.  Kay Kay and I visited the Tokyo Starbucks Reserve.  There are only six in the world (Seattle, New York, Chicago, Shanghai, Milano and Tokyo).  Everything seems big in Tokyo and this was no different;  4 stories of coffee and tea and pastries and food and things to buy.  We sat at the bar and ordered my favorite flavored coffee in the area:  Sakura Latte.  Everything Sakura was a dream to me.  My heart grew with affection as every single person who worked in this establishment came by to wish me a happy birthday, hug me, chat with us, or to give me a birthday card greeting.  The friendliness and kindness and hospitality has been unmatched anywhere else I have ever been.  And my dear friend blessed me with her own love and generosity, arranging for a birthday cake at the pre-race dinner, where we were honoring her amazing accomplishment, getting ready to earn her 6th World Major Marathon Star.  Tokyo, you were making sure I would always remember you.

There was another night on the town in Golden Gai, where there are 100 bars that seat 7-10 people each in a span of a few alleyways.  I wanted to experience everything and decided I can sleep on the plane on the way home.  This was a fun night!  

Then we had race day.  It was our reason for this grand adventure and we were ready for the day ahead.  It was my honor to be Kay Kay’s race support crew.  The Tokyo Marathon is known for being a tough race for a few reasons.  They have strict and stringent cut-offs throughout the course.  They run the time limits by gun-time instead of chip-time-and this is a big deal in running circles.  And the weather has been known to be cold and rainy in the past.  But I was with women who I admire for their discipline and their fortitude in this sport.  I was inspired daily and even hourly by their stories as I listened to them prepare for their glory day.  Race day started out cold, but Mother Nature gave my friends a reprieve and allowed for sunshine and crispness in the air instead of showers of rain.  As we watched everyone run the last stretch before the finish line, I was struck by the smiles amongst the runners throughout the race.  Running a marathon is hard and it’s painful.  I have only done it once so far, with my second one coming up in June.  These athletes have run many and they know what they have coming in front of them as they cross the start line and make their trek through the city for 26.2 miles.  I saw more smiles and celebrations of their victory coming down this street than I did when I watched the Boston runners last April.  Triumph and joy were in the air.  It was infectious and I can’t help but believe this city had a hand in those feelings.  

The next few days were spent in a whirlwind.  We traveled to the Tokyo Disneyland/DisneySea Resort after the post-race celebrations.  Every step of the way, we were greeted with incomparable warmth.  

Although I missed my family and was happy to get home to them, I was very sad when it was time to leave.  We were in Tokyo for a week.  We visited so many areas and yet there was still so much to see.  It was never on my radar previously and I didn’t want to leave.  It was an unexpected love.  I was on the other side of the world from everything I knew and what was important to me and yet I was not ready to say goodbye to my new friend, Tokyo.  

There are still places I want to see in the world.  Japan, you will be a friend I re-visit, hopefully with my loved ones.  I want to show them what I have learned about Tokyo and visit new places:  Kyoto and Osaka.  I now dream of walking through the bamboo forest and smelling the sakura during cherry blossom bloom.  I want to learn more about the history of this region and study the art of the people I now cherish.  I will return.  We will share more adventures, my new friend.  

Tokyo, you have my heart.  I have fallen in love with you, Japan.  

Xoxo,

Anne-Marie

No longer a soloist

I am trying to prepare myself for the week ahead. 

Several months ago, my family was dealt a devastating blow that has turned into the most beautiful of songs.  Next week the chorus changes and I just don't know how I am going to be able to pick up the melody.

First of all, if you know anything about me, you know that I am completely tone deaf.  Like, I can't sing at all.  If I were to karoake, they would kick me out of the bar because the patrons would riot-that kind of bad.  So this entire writing about a song is a metaphor for what I am going through--just to be completely clear.  😁

OK--back to the song of it.

For my entire life, I was kind of a soloist.  I did my thing.  I had friends but I never quite fit in anywhere-awkward looking and acting.  I never knew my place in the world.  My mom was crazy and my family life was not great-blah, blah, blah.  I made the people who were my friends into my family.  I still do this.  The people in my life were the strings and the winds and the horns of whatever tune my existence was at the moment.  They made my life much more lovely because they were in it.  They became the melody of the song I thought I was singing alone.  

And then this year, my brother and sister-in-love (because she is more than a sister-in-law to me--she is my sister in every perfect way she can be) became local to San Diego to handle some things they had to handle.  The things they had to handle are their story to tell, but suffice it to say, we banded together and tackled it as a unit-the way I always hoped to have family around me.  We took care of each other.  And suddenly I had someone nearby who was singing in harmony with me.  I was no longer a soloist.  And I didn't ever realize that I 

    1: could harmonize and 

    2: there was someone who wanted to harmonize with me.  

And together, the song is beautiful.  It’s better than I ever could have dreamed it would be-it’s my absolute favorite anthem.

Next week, they head onto the next chapter of their story in another state-the one they called home for many years before 2023.  

I am trying to look at the bright side of it all.  Things are in a better place for them to make this change.  There is goodness on their horizon.  They will be surrounded by other family to help them in every instance in which they might need help.  

We had so many beautiful adventures together.  And now we aren't only family, but we are friends.  Trusted friends.  My brother and sister-in-love have always been mentors to me from afar.  I don't think they ever even knew I looked up to them in that way.  But they do now-and that matters.  

We have conversations the way I have always hoped we would.  He is the uncle and she is the aunt to my kids in the most loving and "I am watching out for you kind of way."  -Not to mention, the humor they share when they are together...  

Next week my song changes.  

The chorus might change a bit.  The bridge might have a different tune.  The key to the melody might be in a different octave.  

We will be separated by miles.  There will be more phone calls and Facetimes then stolen lunches out together-or Kissy's famous spaghetti dinners.  

There will still be harmony.  

The song is now a masterpiece.

Take My Breath Away

I caught a glimpse of my mother the other day.  It took my breath away because I saw her in my own face as I looked in the mirror.  I literally gasped.  A few days later it happened again and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.  

What do I do when I start wearing the face of someone who caused so much pain in the lives of the people I love, and to me?  

My mother hurt people.  She lived a life of self-entitlement.  She acted as if everyone should serve her in every way.  She held grudges.  She was not kind, nor nice-because there is a difference between the two.  She didn’t forgive people.  She didn’t afford grace to the people she was supposed to love.  She constantly kept tabs on what people owed her and told them about it whenever she could.  Life was tit for tat.  For me, I wasn’t pretty enough or thin enough.  I was always the smart one, but it boxed me into a space where I felt the need to be perfect and do everything “right”.  I rebelled by not doing homework or projects for school and staying out past curfew, but in my mind I still tried to be proper in everything else.  

Car rides were silent. There was no music or speaking when we were in the car with the parental units.  Joking at the dinner table, the rare times we ate together, was not something that happened.  When I look back on it with clarity, I see there was no joy in the house where I grew up.  

Somewhere along the way, the worst thing people in my family would say to each other was that we resembled her in some way.  It was the insult of all insults to be compared to her.  It was often said in my direction, especially when people didn’t get what they wanted from me:  I was too emotional.  I was mentally unstable.  “You are just like your mother.”  

I am emotional.  Emotional is an adjective that means subject to or easily affected by emotions.  I love and grieve and I am happy and sad.  That it has tuned into an ugly judgement on people is sad commentary-which is for an entirely different conversation.  There was a time when me and my kids were traumatized by an abusive marriage-and for a time we were mentally unstable (we have come a long way from that time).  But I strived to never be like my mother.  Those words always did what they intended.  They cut me like a knife.  My heart always broke a little when someone would say that to me.  I learned that to be liked and loved I had to be quiet and stifle who I was.  I didn’t even know who I was.  

In my young twenties, I learned I had a voice.  I vividly remember a conversation with my ex-husband.  We were driving in Omaha, where we lived.  We just left his parents’ house and he was going on about something ridiculous-clearly those details didn’t resonate-and he looked at me and said, “You don’t have to agree with me.”  It was a lightbulb moment for me.  I started to use my voice, although tact and understanding of my voice and what I thought didn’t come for many years later.

Kindness, Grace, Forgiveness-they are all actions that need to be practiced and exercised in order to be rote.  I was fiery and angry at the world and stubborn and headstrong in all the wrong ways.  I took a hard look at myself and the things I wanted to be and didn’t want to be and started the changes that had to be made in order to live in happiness.  I had a lot of practice and exercise to start.  

Life wasn’t easy for us in the beginning, as we started a new life in San Diego.  We were healing from years of trauma.  But I was determined to start anew with a fresh perspective.  I decided to not let the crap I grew up with become a crutch where unhappiness and anger and ugliness was the only answer.  When people walked away from us, I decided to be there for them with love and kindness when they returned.  When I lost jobs, I decided to not let my fear guide my days.  When I needed to forgive people, I forgave without needing to be forgiven.  When I gave to someone in currency or experience or emotion, I didn’t expect to be repaid or need anything in return.  I shared freely, what little I had.  It didn’t always return to us in any form, and that was a lesson to learn along the way, as well-that it didn’t need to in order for me to do the right thing.  I learned to be humble.  There was nothing else I could be when we had only each other.  We were the underdogs in a brand new world, making mistakes everyday.  We still had joy.

We found happiness in the new adventures that San Diego had to offer.  We spent afternoons at the beach and every week at Balboa Park.  We sang songs in the car and re-enacted funny skits with strangers.  Laughter became part of our days.  

I started to live my life with intention.  I intended to have peace, joy, kindness and happiness and noise in my life.  I learned to not have to tell my side of the story to have tranquillity.  We laughed and sang and danced and we still do.  It attracted the people to me and to us who lifted us up.  It created a circle of safety where we could be sad if we needed to be and rejoiced in our happiness when there were things to celebrate.  And because life is life and bad things happen sometimes, we learned how to lean on those people and handle things and not to let us be burdened with the bad things that happen forever.  

-Deep Breath-

All of that to say:  I finally know who I am and I am not my mother.  

I have bad days.  I have many more good days.  I have beautiful friendships.  I have family who love me;  I am not defined by those who do not.  

I live my life with an intention of kindness, most days-because I am human.  I allow myself to grieve and be sad, but I don’t allow it to engulf me.  I don’t get angry when things break, because they are only things.  I say yes more often than I say no.  I pet all the dogs.  I run with children.  I smile and I laugh and I dance and I wear silly outfits with lots of color. 

These are all things that are polar opposite of my mother.  She did NONE of these things.  

So if I am wearing her face occasionally, as I age—at least there is someone who sometimes resembles her who is putting out the good things in the world that she was never capable of doing.  As I see her in my reflection, I will no longer gasp.  I will continue to be who she never was:  KIND, FORGIVING, COMPASSIONATE, JOYOUS.

And now?  A little more confident.