Rocky Balboa And Lizzie Lee From Ireland (not me)

My neighborhood hosted a 5K and a 10K this weekend, Run-A-Muk. I wanted to avoid the 5K. Being in the middle of my speed training (week 4) I was afraid of finding out that my 5K training plan was not working. A 10K time was not on the hook, so I was about to push the button to submit my 10K online registration when I looked above my computer, and reminded myself that my training plan called for a 5K test race.

For me the testing was nothing else but knowing how my speed was going, but... I didn't want to know. Not now. Then I looked over again the plan, and asked myself: What else can I test? What am I really afraid of?. I hit the "cancel" button.

Instead of testing my speed, I could test a racing strategy, or something else. Why don't I go and test that "something else"?

While googling for a strategy I got McMillan's Go-Zone. He divides the race in approximately four quarters/zones. I pretty much use to run the first half of the race as his strategy tells, but never the last two. The third zone, the Go-Zone, calls for putting the hammer down, step up the intensity of the attack, and expect pain. The fourth zone, the Get-Time Zone, calls for a sprint. Not for the last tenth of a mile as I always do but for the whole last quarter.

I bought into it, and decided to test the strategy. Went back to the race site, and registered for a 5K. A test race.

On Thursday I had two 'revelations' that would support and complement the Zone strategy. The revelations came from Rocky Balboa and Lizzie Lee from Ireland (not me). In a "close encounter" with Rocky Balboa, who I love, he reminded me the words he told to his son: "It doesn't matter how much it hurts... It's about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward. How much you can take and keep moving forward (*). That's how winning is done!". I carved the lines in my brain.

At the same time, Lizzie Lee from Ireland was winning a 5 miler in her country in 29:13 min. Yes, a 5:49 min/mile. From her own words in a recent aquathon, she dug deep, gritted her teeth and really really hurt herself to catch the one running on first place. She won by 12 seconds and "it hurt like hell". Then she told me yesterday, "Lizzie, pain is temporary, PRs are forever".

Could I emulate Lizzie? Not physically because she runs under 6 min/mile, but definitely mentally. Her strategy applies to everyone. Her 5:49 is to 6 what my whatever 'number lower than my PR' is to my PR.

And there I went. Nervous as always, got my bib # 439, reviewed the 4-zone strategy, got a gel (never do for short races but L. Lee recommended it...). Get ready, set, go.

The "Start Zone" went smooth as I always have avoided to "Run-A-Muk" at this stage. Second quarter was tough as was hilly, and I wasn't sure if I had a good fast leg turnover. Besides, my watch is distance wise out-of-sync and couldn't tell me what my real pace was. Third quarter was the time to put the hammer down. I did, and thought of Lizzie's comments: Grit your teeth!!! And then, the last K, sprint time. I ran as fast as I could, and when I was able to see the finish line, about 200 yards away, my Ipod started Gonna Fly Now, Bill Conti - Rocky Balboa. I thought of Rocky and Lizzie. How much you can take and keep moving forward... Pain is temporary, PRs are forever....

Then I saw this lady and I targeted her. I passed her and told her "come on". She accelerated. When she started to loose speed, I yelled at her, "come on, come with me..." I wanted to share my winning attitude, I didn't want it only for me.

I tested it. I got it. It worked. I got a PR by some seconds. Not three, not four, but 44!!!!

Official time 27:38, for an 8:54 min/mile pace...

Division 1/29 - Overall Female 27/158 - Overall 87/282

I won my division!!!


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(*) Tomorrow August 31st is Luis birth's anniversary. Rocky's advice is more valid for life than for running. I have taken the challenge of moving forward no matter how hard life gets.
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Meeting Donna Vitellaro after sprinting together...She was my target!!! She came few seconds behind me with also a new PR

A New Beginning

Traditionally Lent is about self-sacrifice. This Lent, the hardest I have ever lived had imposed sacrifices, rather. During this season, I started and completed my cancer radiation treatment, and day after day I've mourned Luis' passing. I wanted to yield to my grief, stop the world, not eat or drink, cry and sleep at my own desire, but the treatment didn't let me. It required me as healthy as I could be. I needed to eat well, to be hydrated, and to rest and sleep properly. Though it was extremely difficult, I had to endure.

My days were all the same. Get up at 4 am, be at work at 4:45, work until noon, pick up my mom at 12:30 pm, go to the Hospital, receive my treatment at 1:20, come back home at 2:00, work for another hour to complete my 8 hours, take a shower, put creams for the burned skin, watch with my mom Food Network for 2 hours, have dinner, go to bed at 7pm. Day after day during seven weeks. The weekends were quiet.

Social withdrawal, no blogging, no facebook, no emails, no phone calls. No running. And believe it or not, I found solace in my own isolation.

Lent is over and gave way to Easter, the foundation of Christian's faith. A time where death and life intertwines to give meaning to a new life, to A New Beginning.

Last Monday my radiation treatment was over and gave way to a new beginning as a cancer survivor. My husband was laid-off, though bad news, good news. California is over, and we have a new beginning. We are together again after two and a half years of being apart and seeing each other every now and then. And on this Holy Night, on this Easter Vigil, Luis has two months that left this world. And because on Easter death gives way to life, I know Luis is also living a new beginning.

Too many parallels between this lent and the sacrifices, and Easter and my new life ahead. This is the time I have chosen for my new beginning. Mourning will never end, but it will morph. Unanswered questions will continue flowing to give room to acceptance. I'll never understand it, but, I am faithful to my beliefs, His Kingdom is not of this world, and His Kingdom was promised to us. He conquered death and He lives forever. Though beyond our terrestrial comprehension, I pray for Luis enjoyment of the Kingdom of Heaven and an eternal life.

This is A New Beginning.

Happy Easter!

Felices Pascuas de Resurrección!

At the Hospital, with my mom the last day of radiation treatment. Infinite thanks to her who went with me every day during seven weeks.













Celebrating this week the last day of radiation treatment with hubby, son Diego and my mom.

Once Month Ago.... There Was A Yawn

Once Month Ago.... There Was A Yawn. There was a light. There was joy. There was hope. Once month ago, four weeks ago, 28 days ago, we were desperately believing on something, just to hear the following day a horrible term: brain death. On February 09th, our world ended, our lungs stopped breathing, our hearts ached, our souls died instantly. Luis passed two days later, on February 11th. And all those inexorable feelings, questions, doubts, fears, anger, sadness, sorrows, took over our lives, the lives of his wife, my children and Luis' youngest - 3-yo to be on St. Patty's day - his mom 85 yo, his brothers and sister, myself....

Luis was an exceptional being. Extremely kind; generous; honest and incorruptible; never followed a crowd or a trend for the sake of a good opinion or acceptance; only followed his solid principles and values; rebel in some sort of way; bright with an unique engineer mind; responsible like none; quick on his feet; ingeniously clever; smartly facetious; lovable.... He walked the talk and left behind a distinctively example in everything he did.

Around 1985 Luis wrote his epitaph. Though some lines are extemporaneous, the one I always loved, and certainly written in stone, is valid 24 years later and till the end of times:

"To my children, my example, if not the best, the only one"

Luis, I am not sure if some part of us died with you, but for sure you are alive with us, and your soul, love and free spirit will never leave us. We love you forever, and ever. And as my favorite Irish poem says:

.... until we meet again
may God hold you in the hollow of His hand.

God Bless You.

With David, 1982










With Diego, 1983























With Alejandra, 1988


With Camila, 2008

Race For A Yawn: Never Take Your Yawn For Granted

Have you ever thought about the powerful message of a yawn?

My ex-husband Luis, one of the most important persons in my life, is very ill, in coma.

He lives with his wife Rosy and youngest child in the Dominican Republic, where he was diagnosed at the beginning of this week with a viral encephalitis. His first cousin, more brother than cousin, who is an MD, flew from Venezuela on Wednesday to provide help and support. On Thursday, when he was ready to be taken in aero-ambulance to Caracas (his city of origin), things got worse. He couldn't be moved, he needed to stay.

His condition was so bad that all his direct family flew there on Friday to be with him. My three kids, his mom (85), his brothers and sister. My daughter arrived there from Thailand on Saturday afternoon after 37 hours of flights and layovers.

Things were not going well, "The virus is too strong".... "His system cannot fight the virus". Hopes were being lost, and desperation, devastation, arose among those who love him.

Rosy, also an MD, and his cousin, who don't have the case in their hands, were not going to give up. They were not convinced that "his system could not fight the virus". They were constantly thinking on what could be happening. They noticed something in the last tomography that concerned them, and thought that a healthy, strong man, 52 yo, could fight a virus. They decided to call Venezuela and talked to another doctor, and came to the conclusion that he had encephalomyelitis. The treatment needed to be an aggressive dosis of steroids to help reduce the inflamation of the brain. They informed the doctor in the hospital in charge of the case and the doctor decided to proceed with this treatment. I believe the doctor in charge recognized he missed it.

Saturday night brought a light of hope. We all went to bed in our respective places, praying that this "revelation" was the answer. On Sunday morning when I called, I was told that there was a very slight sign of improvement as the pupils were a little bit more dilated. Though he was still in coma, joy and hope was all around us. Later on the day, his wife told me of another sign of improvement: Luis yawned.

I have been thinking on that a lot. A yawn. A yawn that gives light and hope, and joy, and comfort. A sign that tells us that our brain is sending a message. A sign that tells us that things are changing in a positive direction. A yawn, a blessing, a gift of God.

I ran on Tuesday a very delicious 6.25 miles, it was sunny and warm (55F/13C), and the first 2009 run outdoors. I had planned to run my first 5K race of the year today Sunday, with my son and his fiancee. It was a Valentine's Race, Love'em or Leave'em, but I didn't run it. On Thursday I was on the phone from 2pm to 1:00 am talking to Rosy to understand the case; helping my kids with the situation, and the reservations; talking to Peace Corps (*) and arranging that my daughter received an emergency leave; informing other family and friends. It was a very distressed day. I slept a couple of hours. Friday was no different, and Saturday was the climax of the pain. I pretty much didn't sleep or eat for three days.

Running was not important, was not even in my thoughts. I requested the race organizers to save the shirts and bib-numbers for us, so when Luis recovers well from this, I will run with my kids a private race. Instead of a Valentine's 5K it will be a Race for a Yawn: Never Take Your Yawn For Granted.

May I please, ask you to offer a pray for Luis' recovery? He is a great man, honest, hard-worker, full of love and life. Me and his family would appreciate this gesture.

We ought always to pray and not lose heart.
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(*) My immense gratitude to Peace Corps, PC. After they talking to the doctor in DR and confirming the seriousness of the situation they approved the emergency leave and the wheels started moving. They bought the tickets (Chiang Rai-Bangkok-Hong Kong-Vancouver BC-New York-Santo Domingo); Thailand country director went to Bangkok airport to meet my daughter and to give her some documents. DR country director called me and told me that Ale would be under their care once she arrived, with 24/7 support. They picked her up at the airport, took her through customs, gave her money, a cell phone, took her to the hospital, then to a hotel to drop her stuff, to take her back to the hospital. This kind of support is priceless.