Halloween Baby

I went to run my Halloween Half on October 29, while daughter-in-law was in labor. The chances were high that I’d change category from mom to grandma that day.

The race, put together by Bob and Kristina Salazar, was another of their many combo races that attract around one hundred people to enjoy any distance of their preference, from marathon, to a mile, including a duathlon, or a triathlon, depending on the location of the race. This one was done for first time in Lacey, making it new to all of us. The run would have no goal in particular as it was nothing but a training run of ~16 miles (I have already run 2.5 miles before the start). There were some funny costumes. I approached a cow and after knowing her pace, I picked the goal to chase the cow.

The gun went off, and we directed ourselves along a beautiful course flanked by gorgeous, super tall evergreens. I ran at a comfortable pace as a training run, with my regular strategy of running a mile at a time, and by effort.  The cow passed me from the beginning and I lost sight of her. There were three marathoners close but ahead, and I tried not to lose them. One of them had a very nice running form, and that was goodness for me as I tend to emulate. Just feet away of the half mark I saw the cow turning around, probably one minute ahead of me. I knew that I had high chances to pass her in the next 6.5 miles. At mile 10 I passed the marathoners (nothing to be proud of, they had to double the distance), and at mile 11.5 the heels of the cow were ready to be stepped on. I passed her and I pushed my pace to get my fastest mile. I crossed the finish line at 2:14:17 and completed my Half Marathon # 33.

I went to the car to check the phone, to only find out the text message:  “no news”. After eating the as-usual-great-food provided by the organizers I drove to the hospital, where the labor process continued to be slow. Because it was going to be a long night, and I live one hour away, my son told me to stay at his place. It was great to be able to help with some chores, and take care of Wally (the puppy).

The night passed between, getting up, checking the phone, and falling asleep. The baby was definitely in her comfy place and didn’t have much intentions of getting out. At 6 am my son told me my daughter-in-law had started pushing. At 8 I left to the hospital, and got to the lobby of the birth center at 8:18. Texted my son, and 5 minutes later, I heard “twinkle, twinkle, little star” melody on the hospital speakers. I immediately thought: “This must mean something”… And I got the text message: SHE IS BORN!!!.

Peyton Elizabeth Moreno, Oct 30, 2011, 8:23 am, 8lbs 11oz, 20 inches. Welcome to the world.

One day short of Halloween, but with my medal in hand, she is now my Halloween Baby.

 

Life’s Short. Run Long.

My friend Shannon and I had both scheduled a 20 miler for the long run. We met on a wet, wet, very wet, morning, at one of the best running spots in Western Washington: East Sammamish River Trail by Redmond. The temperature was warm, in the high 50’s and the drizzle was constant but lovely. I told Shannon that we should split up if she needed to pick up the pace. She is way faster than me and her marathon is around the corner. I was not going to hold her up. Training is training and we gotta do what we gotta do. I was concerned because I was physically and mentally tired. I was coming from a 17 miler last week, with a lot of hills in it, and I worked this week about 12 hour each day. Add to that recipe a daunting 20-mile run, and I could drag my feet any minute.

We had so much enthusiasm that the first 8 miles were pretty much unnoticeable. Runners and bikers were all with smiles on their faces, and jolly “good morning” came out of my mouth every minute. I dare to say that the smiles and sense of happiness were due to various factors: All of us on that trail love what we were doing. People would not jump out of their bed on a 100% rainy day to do something they don’t like. The weather was perfect for running, with all and the drizzle. We were in a place with gorgeous scenery: poplars on the right, and a calm river, a slew, on the left, with plenty of ducks and geese guarded by trees with the colors of fall: red, orange, yellow. The reflection of the trees on the peaceful waters was striking.  The mist around the evergreens on the mountains made the place simply magic.

Before my watch beeped on mile 10, I asked Shannon if she wouldn’t mind to go farther, maybe 0.5 miles, for me to show her something. She was OK, and asked what. I told her she would have to see it by herself. For sure, it was going to be worthy, something with a lot of meaning, especially for us runners; something to make us pause, and have a reflection. I have shared this before, and wanted to share it with her. The watch beeped, and the bench was right there, a bench with a bolted pair of bronze running shoes: a memorial for runner Liz Duncan, who, 3 days before her 27^th birthday, was killed by a car, while running.  As Shannon said, a fellow runner gone too soon.  And then you pause, think, and ask: what are the things that really matter?

We turned around and continued with our journey, now into regressive mode. Boy, don’t you love that? My legs started to feel tired at mile 13. At 14 Shannon says: only 6 more. At 16 I said Dieciseis, and Shannon started repeating the word. Then the mileage countdown became a Spanish class. Diecisiete, Dieciocho, Diecinueve, VEINTE (20). We were done. My first 20 miler of my marathon season was complete. 12 weeks to go. 

A lovely run, with fantastic company, terrific surroundings, and delicious weather. Life's Short. Run Long.

Dedicated to Liz Duncan.

The Ninth Mile: Kyle’s Mile

It was springtime when Tony Seabolt started sharing about a new race in the Pacific Northwest: Race For A Soldier.  The cause was worth the effort of coordinating something that was definitely bigger than us.

Kyle Marshall Farr came back home “safe” from Iraq, but no so safe. He had PTSD, which sadly claimed his life. His mom, Leslie Mayne, an admirable woman, decided that Kyle’s death would not be in vain. Her mission was to get the necessary reform to help our military men and women suffering PTSD. She was determined to make Race For A Soldier, an instrument to bring awareness to our communities, military, and government that PTSD is a heartbreaking reality costing the lives of our men and women that have served for our freedom.

The excitement of the race was in crescendo with the passing months.  Race For A Soldier shared the progress not only of race events but also of available therapies where race funds will go.

When finally October 16 arrived, all wheels and pulleys were in synch for a perfect race. Hundreds of volunteers have worked to mark this day as the beginning of something truly important. The venue for the race was the gorgeous town of Gig Harbor, and the course one of the prettiest courses I have run.

I put a running team together with the goal of representing our military. Running Force was assembled and each of us would symbolize our forces wearing their colors on race day: Shannon (Army), Susan (Navy), Angie (Air Force), and myself (Marine Corps).  

The opening ceremony was remarkable and after an emotive national anthem we were set to go. The first mile mark was The Mayne Mile, representing Kyle’s mom. As a mother, I can't imagine how she has gone through all this process, but she has, and has gone strong.  The cheerful company along the way was fantastic. The beautiful rolling hills, whether they were steep or not, plus the multitude of volunteers with yellow shirts and American flags flanking the runners, made this one of the greatest races I’ve run. 

Then I got to mile 9. A mile marker that was simply stunning: Kyle’s picture on his football uniform, #9, Kyle’s mile. I had to stop, touch the picture, kneel, and pay a small tribute. If I had run the first nine miles embedded in this race purpose, the four miles left were more emotional now.

Tony was there when I crossed the finish line, we hugged and I felt in that moment Leslie's and race organizers’ success. Tony introduced me to Leslie, and between tears, in a very sincere moment, I only had to say: God Bless You. She hugged me tight and told me, I saw you at mile 9. I could speak no more. She was living proof that there is hope in the face of despair.

May this race be just the beginning of something big to help our military in need. This is beyond Gig Harbor, and beyond Washington State. I see the potential and need for this race going across the country, from north to south and from sea to shining sea.

May all the miles run for our men and women serving in the military symbolize what Race For A Soldier symbolizes: The Ninth Mile: Kyle's Mile.

The Ninth Mile. Kyle's Mile

The Mayne Mile

Team RUNNING FORCE: Sharon (Army), Susan (Navy), Angie (Air Force), Lizzie (Marine Corps)

With Leslie after the race

With Miguel, Race Planner Chief and Coordinator

How wonderful to run a race that means and represents something way bigger than our own little worlds. Leslie, God Bless You. Miguel & Tony, and all volunteers, thank you for such an amazing work. This objective has to cross our country, from north to south, and from sea, to shining sea. Love you all.

Beautiful medal. It represents what/who we are running for!!!


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I ran a very good race and felt strong running the hills. Did 4 miles prior to the race as my marathon plan had me scheduled a 17-miler. I clocked 10min/mile. Steady.