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#iwillwhatiwant
This running journey has taken me up and down, slowly and fast. A few months ago, I was on my way up. I was running consistently and although not really feeling that I was getting that much stronger plus experiencing some joint pain, I was still running regularly and feeling that I was on my way to being able to set a new goal. So in very 'me' fashion, I did. I set an (even then) unlikely goal of running another half marathon for my 36th birthday. In 2hrs or less. The Penang Bridge Half Marathon seemed like the ideal opportunity. I signed up, booked my hotel and continued my training.
I came back to a new school year 5kg heavier, you know, when your clothes don’t fit quite right and none of it is healthy weight or muscle mass? Wobbly legs, pudding-like core. I had done nothing I had set out to do to strengthen my body and it showed. The dive had become a plummet. It took no time at all for the self-punishment to start. The little voice in my head had returned. In my journey, I’ve done many things to silence that voice. A lot of that I’ve shared on this blog. But when all it’s said and done, the most successful has been the simplest: be kind to myself. Not just that, take kindness from others as well. Be kind to yourself. Running is as mental as it is physical. Sometimes even more so. And sometimes, when it’s the constant you count on to center and empower yourself, it’s emotional. Be kind to yourself when that rollercoaster goes up and down, slowly and fast. Take kindness from others. The running experts that will take the time to build you a plan for success and to power through. The new friends who sign up to run with you, not necessarily in pace but in heart. The old friends who know you and your journey, who remind you of the strength you possess to see this through. Yesterday, I cancelled my trip to run The Penang Bridge Half Marathon. It was a tough decision that was made easier with the kindness bestowed upon me. As I was canceling one race, I was signing up to two other 10kms with my friend Jamie. As I was canceling my hotel in Malaysia, I was booking another one in Hong Kong as well as organizing a birthday celebration. All the while gearing up mentally (and emotionally) to go for a run. And I did. I was kind to myself, set a goal of 3km at any pace. And I ran 6km at a steady pace, and felt amazing at that very moment. The voice has been killed with the kindness I’ve allowed to surround myself with. I'm coming up from the deep dive, I can feel it. I'm climbing, one step at a time, one run at a time and kindness at every step. Race Deets:
Captivating International Midnight Race, 10km, October 21; Shenzhen Lifeline Express CCB(Asia) Charity Run, 10km, November 25; Hong Kong
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It has been exactly 30 days since I signed up to run the Penang Bridge Half Marathon in Malaysia and a lot has happened since then. Being as pumped as I was/am to have signed up and taken this new challenge (to not only complete the half but run it in 2hrs or less); the teacher in me has spent the last month doing some needed 'pre-assessment'. Here's what I've found. My upper body is weaker than I thought.Not just weaker, my muscle mass has disappeared and I'm struggling with the basics. I have to retrain myself to not hold all my weight on my shoulders. I have to hold my posture when I run, remember to hold my core in at each stride. And most importantly, I need to make sure that to get strong to do all these things, I need to do the right exercises for me. For instance, I tried doing burpees the other day? Um, not ready for those. Besides my chest feeling like it had zero support at each jump, my arms could barely hold me when coming down for the push up. Not to mention my belly hitting the ground when my arms gave out... my c-section scar burned after my attempt at 10. It was painful and not good painful. So, here's my plan for the next 30 days:
My legs aren't that better.They used to be my constant! But after pregnancy, my thighs, joints, ankles and feet took a hit. It wasn't until I started consistently hitting the pavement that I realised how big of a hit. Not to mention the fact that I think I've been running with the wrong shoes. It makes sense when I think about it: my legs are different therefore my stride is, thus I need a new type of running shoe. The problem is I'm not sure where to start or which ones to get. I've been loyal to Asics and had a great New Balance experience, but I think I need more stability and cushioning. So here's my plan for the next 30 days: Do research on a new running shoe. Read posts online by beginner and expert runners alike, watch reviews of different running shoes online and ask around my running community. Staring with you reader, any suggestions on a new running shoe? My pace is crazy slow for my goal time.I have 222 days to improve my current average pace of 7min/Km. If I want to achieve my goal in Penang, I need to be able to finish each kilometer in 5mins and 45seconds. Now that seems almost unattainable right now... I can hear it already: The little monster of insecurity creeping into my ear. "There's no way..." it whispers; "...you can't do it..." So, here's my plan for the next 30 days: Realistically, as I get stronger and gain muscle mass, I have to lose some of the unnecessary weight I've been carrying. So yesterday I started a one week juice program to get my energy up, and cut processed sugars from daily consumption. Right now I'm a hefty 73kg and I need to bring that down to at least 68kg by mid May. I can do it. Shut up insecurity, shut up. I need to continue to be kind to myself.The other day my husband took me on a semi-date to a batting cage. I played semi-pro softball when I was a teenager and it was some of the most accomplished I've ever felt in my life. The first time I ever held a bat and stepped on a plate, I was pitched a (varsity fast) ball and I hit a home run. My first time. Ever. I was only 13 years old and the youngest to be asked to play in the varsity team. I became third bat and starting shortstop. My coach said I was a natural.
Back to the batting cage, I hadn't held a bat in more than a decade. It felt good to hold a bat, swing and hit. It felt, natural! As a point of pride that I was hitting 70% of balls the machine pitched, my husband took a video of me batting. When I saw it, my face and my confidence fell. I looked out of shape and weak. There were no signs of muscle in my arms or back, or toning on either my legs or core. I had a fleeting moment of "What the f*** Cecilia?!" and proceeded to daydream about the possibility of crash diets and longer runs. Sigh. So I need to be kinder to myself in order to keep me going on this journey. This journey I tell ya. It's a tricky thing to be on it. I stumble all the time and get right back up. I set goals, take on challenges; I fail and I succeed. So here's my plan starting immediately: Take a deep breath and keep going. Constructed from 1982 to 1985, the Penang Bridge is 13.5 km long, a cable-stayed bridge with beam and a slab deck. And it's the setting for my new challenge. My third half-marathon, 22km. Finished in 2 hours. I will be 36 years (and two days) old. I will run 22 kilometres. I will cross the finish line in 2 hours. #iwillwhatiwant The countdown begins. In the next 252 days, I must:
And this time around, I want to try something new, something I have never done before. I want to reach out to my running community for support and encouragement... yes, that means YOU. I feel I need to bridge the gap with what's been missing from my journey until now. So, if you are reading this and you are interested in joining me in my journey, I would like to invite you to #runwithceci. Be a physical part of my #irunajourney. We can run together and/or challenge each other on social media (I'm active on Instagram, Twitter & Nike+) or both! It can be a win-win, you keep me on track and vice versa. I'm going to need all the help I can get if I'm going to reach the end of that bridge in one hour, and then back in another hour... **takes deep breath** So, you in? If you're interested in signing up for running events around the world, the AIMS (Association of International Marathons and Distance Races) has an updated calendar (with a public calendar link to add to your calendaring application of choice) and links to registration sites. AIMS is a member-based organisation of more than 400 of the world’s leading distance races, from over 100 countries and territories. Our objectives are:
The other day I woke up with an all too familiar feeling in my gut: insecurity. Why does it constantly root in my core. This is not a question I want answered, it's a statement about the power our insecurities have over us. To know that they don't go away but rather that we learn to silence them. This has been the most important lesson I've learned in my running journey. But silencing them is not enough. The next step in my journey is to make the voices of encouragement, confidence and self-love fill the silence. This is my next goal. This is me learning to 'own it'. A few weeks ago I was presented with a mind shifting and heart filling gift. A friend of mine, a true and remarkable artist Rebecca O'Brien, created a work of art inspired by a photo she took of me a couple of years ago. The moment was quick and simple. I was sporting some henna on my right shoulder and while proudly showing it off, she, like the true artist she is, asked me to, no joke, "hold that pose". I did as asked and we, as Becs describes it, had "a moment". She took a few pictures and talked about creating a piece with the image. As flattered as I was, I couldn't have predicted that it would take almost two years until that moment was captured in a breathtaking China ink piece. She debuted that and other exquisite works at her art show themed "Lines And Strokes" last week here in Shenzhen. She entitled my piece 'Own It'. Seeing the piece up close, the precision of creating each layer of ink, layers ranging from light and dark, the watermarks and outlines of my skin... it rendered me speechless. I was face to face with what I can only describe as a beautiful depiction of my truth. Because. That night. That night when Becs captured that powerful moment, there was more to it than met the unartistic eye. In the few weeks prior to that night, I had found out I was pregnant. Pregnant for the second time in my life. See, a year and a half before that night, I had had a miscarriage. A crippling one (aren't they all?). I've never spoken about it publicly until now. It has taken me four years to be able to, but it's pertinent for this moment for me to do so. Because. That night, the parasite of insecurity had rooted in all my being. I had spotted during those first few weeks of pregnancy, every spot a reminder of what had happened a year and a half prior and with it the terrifying feeling that it might happen again. Miscarriages are not often talked about and they should be. They happen to many of us, most of whom feel alone and ashamed. This is the wrong type of silence as the insecurities that come with being a woman are louder and more present than ever when one miscarries. That night I was the happiest at my pregnancy and the most frightened at the same time. I was gathering all the emotional strength I could muster to take it one day at a time and be "ready" in case I miscarried again. And somehow, as only an artist can, Becs captured that inner struggle. The emotion of it, the rare beauty that only comes from the subtle yet powerful presence of quiet strength. Without knowing it, I was owning it. Like the great teacher that she is (yes, Rebecca is an outstanding educator as well, not to mention a wake-up-tomorrow-and-run-a-half-marathon-with-no-training type of runner; there's nothing this woman can't do!); Becs took me through the process of the creation of the piece, how she was inspired (?!) by me to create it. She complimented me beyond anything I could've ever expected. She said I was 'a model' of something she wanted to be herself; she told me I was 'always present' in any interaction; she pointed out my 'feminine strength' and said that I just 'own it'. She has no idea what that all meant for me to hear. She fed my soul. I tried to reciprocate the words but again I was rendered silent. But oh if only she knew how I admire her just as much, how brave I think she is for pursuing her passion and answering her artist's calling, how I could never compliment her at the same caliber she has done with me and how I wish I could. Her words. This is one of the voices that I have to fill the silence with. This is what keeps those insecurities at bay. This is my next challenge: to own it every day. Yesterday I ran a 32min 5k. I hadn't done that since before I got pregnant. I feel I'm finally getting back to being the runner I was before my baby boy was in my life, before the night Becs took that picture. And at the same time, I'm not the same person, one with a different mindset. Insecurities will try to root, but I will silence them. I will let the voices of strength speak loud and proud. Because. I own it. If you have suffered the loss of a miscarriage or know someone who has, this is a great article with some advice about how to get you started on the path of healing.
"My body isn't what it used to be but I'm not who I used to be, either. And in a way, for me, it only seems fitting that this body represents the new person I am: I am mother, first and always." ~ From 'My Body Isn't What It Used to Be' published by Mothering the Divide with Kara Lawler Like the epiphanic run I just had, this post will be quick. It's been almost 14 months since my body started healing from pregnancy and birth. It's been an unexpected recovery in some ways, my body has neither regained its shape, weight or strength; but it's shown me it can do amazing things regardless. My mind on the other hand, doesn't seem to give time to the insecurities which plagued me when I started this blog.
Indeed my body is not what is used to be. And today as I ran in an unexpectedly comfortable skin, I failed to remember they whys and hows of what I struggled with before. I am not who I used to be. No, definitely not. Like with running those 10km, I've taken my time in writing this post. So many meaningful moments happened that weekend that I just had to take a step back and digest them. So, as my friend Jamie said, name each kilometer you run: a meaningful moment for every kilometer completed. 1km - Cruel but optimistic start up a very steep hill. Name: 2016, what a year. I started off this year much like this race, optimistically but thinking to myself how steep the hill was and wondering whether it would be the only one. It wasn't. Becoming a mother was a steep hill to climb, suddenly and quickly, right from the start. I tried to pace myself and take my time to learn, to climb. But knowing this was just the beginning scared me. What if I can't do it? What if I had bitten off more than I could chew? 2km - Road starting to level out, the fresh air in my lungs, music in my ears. Name: Lucca, my boy. After that tough first climb, things started making sense. My focus shifted from how hard the journey would be to how to make sure I'd cross the finish line. He is the reason I will always get there. He is my greatest challenge and treasure. He is worth every step, every effort, every sacrifice, every hill. I finished that second kilometer not even remembering how hard that first hill was. 3km - It's clear that it's all hills in this run. I put my headphones in, take another deep breath, and find a comfortable pace. Name: My body, it remembered stronger times. Yes, I used to be stronger, younger and had more time to dedicate to meeting personal physical goals. But this run was not to prove whether I was still as strong as I used to be. I'm not. Neither was it a mid-life crisis moment to make me not feel 'old'. Fuck that. I'm 35 and I love who I am. I admire the courage it took for me to go on this journey in the first place. I saw myself through the eyes of my younger self, the one who thought she would never have kids or run past one kilometer. This run was about continuing on this journey and allowing myself to do so. Yes, I used to be stronger, younger. And my body was remembering. 4km - A downhill! Do I run or do I let it be? Name: Spark to flame. In this year of ups and downs, I've found solace in the Hamilton Broadway Musical soundtrack. Random, I know. I'm not American, nor have I ever identified as one. But they say music, like food, is the one thing that can bring cultures together. Lin Manuel Miranda's genius storytelling about how Alexander Hamilton, an immigrant with the odds stacked against him, was hugely responsible for empowering a country to rise up against oppression; is a message of resiliency that is important, more so now than ever before, for anyone to hear. Anyway, as I was making my 10km music playlist, I made sure to include some of my favorite tracks from the Hamilton soundtrack, as well as some Zumba favorites. I named my playlist 'Spark to Flame' hoping that it would do just that. I figured that listening to the lyrics and rhythms of music that inspires and empowers, would send the message to my body to keep moving. It was at this kilometer that my mind took over and I knew, even this early on in the run, that I would not only finish the 10km but I would do so with a smile on my face. 5km - Slight incline, beautiful view, half way point.
Name: Take a moment. I hadn't really given the location what it deserved. Clear Water Bay in Hong Kong is gorgeous. The golf course where we ran is no doubt reserved for the elite. The road was impeccable, no bougainvillea out of place, no blade of grass too long. Coming up the incline, the sunbeams peaking from the clouds and the view of the bay with rocky mountains protruding from the waters... I had to take a moment and let it all in. Just like the high I get after a job well done, or when all I can do is stare at my baby boy doing the most mundane thing in the world. Taking those moments in are really the pieces of the happiness puzzle. 6km - The sought-after running high. Name: Dance, dance, dance. As my Zumba/Hamilton playlist blasted in my ears, I started to reminisce on how much I love dancing. When I started my running journey and this blog, I had been doing Zumba religiously. Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. Sin falta. Without fail. It was transformative and fun, and I loved it. I got to dance like no one was watching and get super fit in the process. As I ran to the merengue, salsa, reggueton and cumbia beats; I realized how much I want to dance again... 7km - Just a couple of more hills, but a strong mindset. Name: My C-Section. Oy. Yes. This was when I was reminded yet another reason why this year has been tough to get back on the fitness horse. (Almost) a year ago, I made the decision to have a planned c-section. After weighing the pros and cons, going online (eek) and getting the perspectives of (hundreds of, at times, very opinionated) mothers, doctors, doulas, nurses and everyone ever involved in the baby birthing business; I concluded that I was comfortable with my decision. I knew what I was signing up for in terms of recovery time. Long. Painful. Blah blah blah. And sure, what I researched has been for the most part true. But I've been gently and patiently getting my body ready for a new challenge, so I really hadn't thought much of it. Until then. As I was going up one of the last hills, my mouth had gotten a bit dry and I coughed. Suddenly, there it was. A burning sensation on my c-section scar. It felt like it had felt when the wound was new and still healing. I slowed down my pace to a walk, put my hand over my scar... I decided to slow down my pace after that, reminded myself to continue to be gentle and patient. My mind could do more but my body was starting to remind me of the decision I had made a little over 11 months back. 8km - A surprise mini-loop on a very steep hill. Name: Life. Life is full of unexpected loops and setbacks, steep hills that come out of nowhere that you have no choice but to run up and keep going. This loop was such a metaphor for 2016... It was ironically comical. 9km - The home stretch. Name: Losing a friend. The pain of loss is such a complex emotion, one that is feared by those who haven't felt it and impossible to explain by those who have. As I ran that last kilometer, for a moment I saw myself through the eyes of someone who always believed in me and saw in me things I could not. Crossing that finish line seemed such an improbable goal to me. In fact, I tend to make a big deal of me crossing finish lines and how unlikely my success will be. But that last bunch of meters, I saw what she saw in me: nothing but finish lines. Nothing but accomplishments. Nothing but challenges met, battles won, goals achieved. In her eyes, I could do anything, and I was silly to think otherwise. And I missed her, my friend whom I have lost, so much. It hurt with a pain that I've become all too familiar with... but impossible to explain. 10km - The finish line. Name: This is 35. Painful joints. Searing scar. Smile on my face. This is 35. Hungry. Thirsty. Tired. Cold. This is 35. Music still blasting. Feet still moving. Spark turned to flame. This. Is. 35. Dear 35 Year Old Me,
Here you are. You have arrived to what some might call half of your life. You have so much to show for the past 35 years, so much to be proud of, so much to be thankful for. As you start another phase, another part of your life having checked off many of the things that you always dreamed about doing and becoming; I want to address all of you. The parts that make you whole. To your body. Every one of the 165 centimeters of stature, every one of the 70kg of skin, bones, brain, fat, muscle; every limb, every organ, every hair strand. You are 35 years old today. You are healthy and strong. You have given birth. You have weathered injuries and made yourself stronger, pushing yourself to achieve things you did not think you could do. You are wonderful and beautiful. To your mind. Every one of the thousands of thoughts, ideas, opinions, decisions. You are 35 years old today. You are important. You have grown, learned and become wiser. You have encountered obstacles and found ways to overcome them. You are wonderful and beautiful. To your soul. That whole, encompassing self that ties every fiber of your being together. You are timeless. You have suffered from loss and have gained more than you'd ever dreamed. You have strengthened by becoming vulnerable. You love and you love well. You are wonderful. You are beautiful. As you cross the finish like of this half-life, weak in the knees, exhausted and out of breath, joints as soft as pudding; tell me how fantastic it feels to finish this half, pain and all; knowing full well that finishing doesn't mean ending but rather the start of an improved you? Yes, here you are. You are wonderful. You are beautiful. Congratulations on finishing this half. With all my love, Me Welcome to my new running view. This (massive) light fixture adorns the ceiling of my new gym, 'World Something' (still trying to find the correct translation of the full name in Chinese)'. It's across the street from my apartment building, new and fully equipped. But in true China fashion, the decor is meant to wow rather than show practicality. I mean, just look at this thing. Seriously, can your gym do this?! So why the gym? I don't know whether I have expressed it before but gyms aren't my thing. I don't hate them necessarily, but socializing while focusing on a workout, or jocks flexing their muscles in the mirrors? Not my jam. However, a couple of factors have led me to seek out an alternative to outdoor running. Starting with Shekou's construction craze. Woah. Currently Shekou's overhaul and sudden growth in infrastructure, has tainted all running paths in the area. If something isn't being dug up, it's being built on. During runs, I will either dodge a huge dusty bulldozer or a huge group of sweaty construction workers. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind obstacle courses but not when it's unsafe or you get catcalled by the obstacles. Secondly, the pollution. Not that this has been a big deal in the past since the pollution in Shenzhen is not as bad as other parts of China, I've always wanted to find a way to avoid it. It dries out my nasal passages and, if too heavy, can press on my chest during a long run. Not to mention that the main cause of air pollution in the area is being caused by the construction dust which feels worse than the usual polluted air. Then there's my aging joints. Running 3km+ on a treadmill today felt light and cushiony. I was able to focus more on my run than on the constant physical reminders that I'll be 35 in a couple of weeks. Lastly, I joined the gym because I want to give myself a space to really achieve my goals. Why not invest in myself and my well-being? Surfing FB I came across this: Which translates to "Don't exercise because you hate your body, exercise because you love it". I do love my body and the extraordinary things it has done in the past year and eight months, and even before that! So instead of thinking of this as a splurge or something out of character for me, I will think of it as finding the right place to condition my body the right way.
Here's hoping the light fixture isn't the only thing that will wow me at this gym😅 A few weeks ago, I went to a training (of the mind, not the body) where I was pushed to some limits. Part of the training required that I peel off layers and let some vulnerable parts of myself show. You reader, have now figured out that's not my style, that the whole point of this blog is to push myself to do just that; so you'll know how challenging it was for me to push myself into rawness.
As I peeled and peeled, I found myself confessing to someone (and myself) that I felt I had lost my identity as a runner. That after being pregnant (by doctor's orders having to stop after week six) and having my baby boy, that I wasn't sure who I was as a runner nor did I know how that part of me fit with other new roles in my life. Dealing with the mom-guilt was one thing, but just the drive, the inspiration, the hunger for achievement; had become somewhat 'meh'. It was at that moment when I realized, I didn't know how to get that back. All the things I used to do to get me motivated weren't working, and if I'm going to be perfectly honest, they still aren't working as well as I would hope. The proverbial "wall" is starting to build in front of me during every run, my legs feel heavy, my mind is weak, my motivation is, well, 'meh'. Today's run was challenging. But it wasn't only my body, it was everything else. And at this pace (pun absolutely intended), there's no way I will run 10km in 55mins in a few short weeks. There's just no way. I took that picture today during my run. I couldn't think of a better visual representation of the struggle with my running identity. I'm running one way but headed the opposite direction. I'm in movement yet I am stuck in one place. I look like a runner but I'm hollow in the inside, there is emptiness in the place where a fire should be... I need to be jolted back to who I am when I run, after I run, when I set goals and when I achieve them. But how. This past weekend I got excited. I signed up for a 10km in Hong Kong, happening on November 26 (67 days from now, two days after my 35th birthday); and then said to myself, 'what the heck! I'll run it in 55 minutes or less!'. Why? I felt empowered. I felt it achievable. I felt #iwillwhatiwant.
Then yesterday happened. I started a running club on Mondays and yesterday was my first time hitting the pavement after a long time. I ran with a sixth grader who is not a runner, but a swimmer, kayaker and a lover of the outdoors. She also unintentionally reminded me about my age and the fact that I have subzero core strength at the moment. Yes, yesterday happened. A reality-check 3. 43km/25:25minutes long. Why. So I did what I do best to keep me motivated, to not talk myself out of this goal. I bought new running shoes (say hello to my ASICS Nimbus 18); I made digital art of my goal; and most importantly, I wrote this post. This blog is my reminder of why. It is what empowers me. It is what allows me to feel my goals are achievable. It is where I preach that I will what I want and I want to run 10km in 55mins (or less) after 11 months of giving birth and 2 days after turning 35. Ready, set, go. It's hot and humid AF outside. I'm jetlagging hard and I'm tired. I'm breastfeeding and when I run I feel a progressively heavy pressing on my chest. I miss my son when I go for a run, not to mention how mom guilt is real and it messes with my head. To clarify, the above are not excuses, they are facts. Excuses would sound like this: It's hot and humid AF outside and I don't think it's a good idea to run when the weather's not great. I'm jetlagging and would rather go for a run when I get back on schedule and don't feel so tired. I'm breastfeeding, my baby is not hungry now and it would take too long to pump. I miss my son and can't be away from him for something so selfish as running... What kind of a mother would I be if I thought about running before him?! So no more excuses. I've decided to not let facts become excuses to not run. I want to regain my body's pre-baby strength, build muscle and stamina. It's true that certain circumstances might make a run challenging, not ideal, short, slow; however none of these are excuses to not get out there. A run is a run. Any run is one step closer to becoming a stronger and more resilient runner, why not take it?
Fact: I'm a runner. Fact: Running has transformed me. Fact: I'm ready to continue my journey. #noexcusesjustrun #iwillwhatiwant #irunajourney It's been a while, one year and three days to be exact, since I last posted anything on this blog. So much has happened since then... I'll begin with what I usually do: my latest run. After a nine month hiatus, yesterday I was able to make the time to go for a quick run... time is somewhat of a rarity nowadays. I built up the courage (yes, courage) to hit the pavement and I was off. It was a short, slow, sluggish run. My muscles slowly woke from a long period of hibernation and my lungs struggled to keep a paced rhythm. A voice in my head, that one that allows me to either take another step or stop dead on my tracks, said "It's been 10 weeks." I took a new route, a more private one. As you may read in my other posts, consistency and familiarity are very important to me when I run. My device, my attire, my diet, the time of day; all these factors affect me as a runner directly. If something is too different, I will be as well, and I might lose my focus. But as I took the first steps in my run, I found myself heading the opposite direction of my usual route. That voice again: "It's for the best. You don't know how you're going to feel or when you'll need to stop. Best to do it where you can't tell the distance. Remember, it's only been 10 weeks and this might not work out at all." The first thing I noticed was how my body has changed. There used to be an alignment in the way my body moved, and I felt its unbalance right away. Throughout the run, I kept reminding myself to stand up straight and hold my (inevitably weak) core. My knees and ankles were the next ones to feel the intensity of running. I had been walking (waddling), and subsequently finding my walking stride again in the past months; but no running or anything that resembled it. My body was trying hard to remember, rely on the muscles that it used to, but in many ways I felt like a rookie. "It's been 10 weeks! 10 weeks since you had a baby! 10 weeks since you had a baby via C-SECTION! 10. Weeks." Yes. I had a baby. Correction: I was pregnant for nine months and then 10 weeks ago, had a baby. Hence the year and three days since I've posted about running. I had to stop running eight weeks into my pregnancy, doctor's orders. I was disappointed that my journey was coming to such a screeching halt! Why couldn't I run? I had read articles and books about women running half marathons in their third trimester! Why couldn't that be me? So here I was yesterday: trying to hold core muscles that still felt the sharpness of a scalpel; striding on legs that for a long time did nothing but just hold my pregnant body (and the 10kg/22lbs I gained) up right; and trying hard to hear the voice in my head that reminded me how long it had been since I gave birth, 10 weeks. "He's 10 weeks old. You've been a mother for 10 weeks. Your mind has had 10 weeks to adjust to a whole new life. Your body has had 10 weeks to heal. Take it easy on yourself." So here I am and here is this post. A year and three days in the making, and 2.83k into my new journey. I remember a time not so long ago when I couldn't fathom putting on a size 8 sports bra (still a little snug!) let alone putting my body through another physical challenge after the ordeal that is pregnancy. It took courage to get out there. Yes, courage. Patience. But also that will of mine that holds all my weaknesses together in a tight grip and says "I will what I want."
"It's been 10 weeks. It's time. Let's go." Last night I received the official list of the Translantau15 participants. Seeing my name on there amongst thousands of other runners suddenly makes it very real; I'm running up a mountain on my first ever trail run, in 20 days time.
It has also come to my attention that I am the only Guatemalan running this race, in any and all categories, and therefore representing Guate on my own... No pressure Ceci. Taking deep breaths. Inhale. Exhale. Very recently I was told by a (true and loving) friend that life is chipping away at me, leaving my 'raw' self show. Yes, it's true. As a matter of fact, I have been chipping away at myself, to challenge and reinvent myself, to grow and change. Here's the thing about change though. As I reflect on it more, I realise what a scary, vulnerable and inevitable place it is to be for all of us who want more out of life... and #iwillwhatiwant. Because with every chip, every little piece that leaves more and more of me exposed, amazing things like this happen. In my previous post, I wrote about what challenging myself meant. Both mind and body need to be on the same playing field for them to have synergy, and it's a struggle to try and do that alone. I'm blessed to have surrounded myself with strong women, both near in proximity and in friendship, and far in distance but undeniably connected by an energy that defies physical distance. Women who #lifteachotherup.
At the root of insecurity and weakness lies fear, and the latter must be faced in order to change and grow. So chip, chip, chip. It's ok if you're scared. Chip, chip, chip. Find your raw self. |
Ceci Gomez-GalvezOriginally from Guatemala, I've been living overseas for 11 years (Italy, China). I'm a runner who learns at every step. |