Wednesday, May 13, 2015

Balance and Perspective

As a distance runner, I believe that 90% of racing is mental and 10% is physical. Of course, races in my past have proven that this percentage isn’t always the case. Throughout my 30-plus year running career, I have raced with colds and strained muscles, walking pneumonia and kidney stones, stress fractures and cancer. Despite my strong-headedness and my “I CAN. I WILL!” mental attitude, mental toughness is not always enough to prevail over my physical disposition.

I just returned home from the district track meet—a meet full of emotions, both for its triumphs and its drama. I, too, get swept up in the moments, reliving my own successes and self-interpreted failures at meets like districts and, in college, regionals. I spent my high school and college days consumed by my running performance, and I know that my self-esteem was dictated by the time on the clock. A good performance released endorphins; a bad performance released tears.

Luckily, for me, my self-worth is no longer based on my running performance. When I look at my runners suffering with anxiety and pressure (and sometime puke) prior to their races or tears following the finish line, I get it. I understand. And, I get the fact that, in the moment, there is nothing that can seem to take its place.

Balance and perspective: two things that we all need to have a little more of. What we do matters, but it is how we deal with what happens that defines who we are. How can we morph something that appears to be negative into something positive? What are the lessons that can be learned?

BALANCE AND PERSPECTIVE:

Yesterday, I got my PET scan results. I don’t need a piece of paper to interpret the results: I can read it in my oncologist’s face when he opens the door.

Balance:

While my old drug didn’t work, there are still options. I will start a new chemo drug on Friday—an infusion instead of a pill. I will not run, because there is a new spot on my bone, and I don’t want to be a 37-year-old with a broken hip.

Perspective:

I just ran out of shampoo—the first bottle since last summer. I will not have to pack shampoo for my trip to South Africa.

Ironically, I made my first haircut appointment for next Tuesday. I will still have Lynette trim my hair and dye my Mohawk blue for the state meet.

The “cancer bonuses” are granted more often if I have a baldhead. I can also get another henna masterpiece.
I can still believe in the 90% mental and 10% physical philosophy, and I better believe, because my body continues to revolt.

I will stay balanced; I will keep things in perspective.


I CAN. I WILL!


Wednesday, May 6, 2015

Brooks Inspiring Coach of the Year Award Finalist

First of all, I need to thank my "I CAN. I WILL!" friends, fellow coaches, and athletes for nominating me for the Brooks Inspiring Coach of the Year award. 




This was the email I received on Monday:

Congratulations coach, you've been nominated by your athletes and peers for a National Award we give out each year called the Brooks Inspiring Coach of the Year, and you have been selected as a finalist! We plan to announce our finalists on May 15 on Flotrack and will host you and the other 12 finalists on a trip to Seattle for the Brooks awards show and PR Invitational.

In the interest of time, we need you to sign the attached consent form and complete the brief Q&A form at your earliest convenience. Also, we need a high resolution (preferably 400x400 or better) of you for our awards ceremony.

We had over 1,500 nominations this year and selected 13 finalists. Along with the award you will receive $500 cash and $5,000 MSRP gear for your team.

Awards Ceremony Weekend
Please make arrangements and book your travel for our Inspiring Coaches and PR Invitational Weekend using our travel agency below (your plane ticket is covered and we have lodging for you and a guest in the new dorms at the U of Washington).

Event Dates:
·        June 18 – Arrive in Seattle (preferably before 5PM)
·        June 19 – Awards Ceremony (Experience Music Project)
·        June 20 – PR Invitational


·        June 21 – Depart Seattle

I sent in this photo (after I had Jane Photoshop it to get rid of the competitor logos): 


I arranged our plane tickets (Brian's ticket was almost $600), and bought us two extra days before the event in Seattle. I was able to use some of my Beginner's Luck class speech (and old blog entries) to answer some of the questions on the Q&A; however, some of my responses are new. 


How many years have you coached high school track/XC? 
15 years
I have been involved in track and cross-country (running or coaching) for 32 of 37 years.

How many athletes are on your track/XC team?
Lincoln East High School typically has around 80 girls and boys out for cross-country and 130 for track (cross-country and track are combined programs).

Do you coach any other sports?
Lincoln East High School volunteer cross-country coach (2000-Present)

Lincoln East High School assistant track coach (2001-Present)


Did you run track/XC in high school? If so, what events? Where?

When I was 6-years-old, I started running competitively in age group track and I was 9 when I started cross-country. In high school, I ran for Lincoln Southeast (Lincoln, Nebraska), where I was a part of a “cross-country dynasty.” Running on varsity all four years, our team never lost a meet (Lincoln Southeast won nine state championships in a row). I was a member of four Nebraska Class A (the biggest class division) high school state cross-country championship teams from 1991-1994. I placed in the top 10 at state all four years, and my 1992 team still holds the Nebraska state record for the lowest team score (28 points). In track, I ran the 4x800, the 1600, and the 3200. My team set the school record in the 4x800 at the state meet my senior year (1995)—our record was finally beaten a few years ago.


Did you run track/XC in college? If so, what events? Where?
I started my college career running for the University of Nebraska. After a medical redshirt defined my freshman cross-country season, I transferred at semester to run at Nebraska Wesleyan University, where I ran cross-country and indoor and outdoor track. At NWU, we were Conference Cross-Country Champions in 1997 and 1998; our team placed 6th and 9th in 1997 and 1998 respectively at the NCAA Division National Championships; I was a Cross Country NCAA Division III All-American in 1998; and I held five school track records when I graduated (indoor: 1,500, mile, 3,000; outdoor: 1,500, Sprint Medley Relay). Most importantly, I developed life-long relationships with my teammates and coaches.


Did you have a coach that inspired you in high school?
Ted Larson, my cross-country and track coach in high school, inspired me in ways I am still discovering some 20 years later. He demanded the best out of all of us, all of the time. He was a positive role model for me. Ted was a motivator; he could get us excited about every meet. He knew what workouts we needed to run; he taught us relaxation strategies; he was a friend and a good listener. Ted helped me become a confident, motivated, and successful adult, and I know I am a stronger person because of him. Twenty years later, I still look for Ted at the state meet—he’s a spectator now—so I can get my “state meet hug.”


What is your favorite coaching moment? Can’t pick just one, feel free to list a few!
There are so many “favorite” moments: I love watching my athletes do all the right things to find success—in the past nine years, our girls have finished 2nd at the state cross-country meet three times; they won state in 2012; and our 4x800 relay were state champions, setting both a school and state record last spring. This past fall, our girls were the favorites to win state. We would have won; however, the unusual October heat took down one of our top runners about 100 meters before the finish line. When she woke up in the medical tent several minutes later, she asked, “What place did I get?” It was heartbreaking to tell her that she passed out and didn’t finish. While the girls were disappointed that they ended up in third place instead of winning, they were more concerned about their teammate’s wellbeing; they were graceful in defeat.

I love the stories and the rituals—the pasta feeds, the excitement over earning “top ten” t-shirts, the team bonding on long runs. Every day, I look forward to the time I get to spend with my runners.

I teach and coach at the same high school as my husband. In fact, we started dating after becoming friends during my first cross-country season at East. When I first started coaching, I was still in incredible shape: I would run long runs with the boys and hard workouts with the girls. To try to impress me, Brian ran “way over his head” for the entire season. After the season was over, he still tried to keep up with me. One Saturday morning, Brian, one of the other cross-country coaches, and I went out for a trail run. We went out 4.5 miles when Brian finally asked how far we were going. It was an out-and-back route, so we were only halfway done. On the return trip, Brian literally did trip—three times—and his devotion won me over, and, eventually, I fell for him. I get to spend a lot of time with my husband doing something we both love. Our runners are our kids.

Brian and I are also devoted to our runners, and we get love from them back, which sometimes manifests in strange ways. Our girls like to leave us chalk masterpieces on our driveway. Since I was diagnosed again with cancer right before cross-country started, we would often find positive messages covering our driveway. At the banquet this fall, one of our senior girls walked up to the coaches’ table: she had a gift for Brian and me. I wouldn’t advocate giving animals as gifts; however, once Morgan handed me our gift—a kitten—I was instantly in love.


What piece of advice do you give an athlete having a bad day to inspire them?
I learned the positive affirmation, “I can, I will,” from my Southeast High School cross-country coach, Ted Larson.  That motivating statement quickly became our team’s rallying cry in the middle of the race, and those four words carried my high school teammates and me through four undefeated seasons.  I let that phrase guide me to a successful college running career at Wesleyan and during three marathons where my body wanted me to quit but my mind willed me to finish.  However, that simple, yet inspiring, affirmation was the most valuable when I was diagnosed with breast cancer two weeks after finishing the 2009 New York City Marathon. 

Immediately, after that life-altering phone call, I realized that those “I can, I will” statements would continue to define my life:
  • I can, I will…beat “CANcer” because I have an amazing support system of family, friends, colleagues, students, doctors, and total strangers;
  • I can, I will…keep a positive self-image, no matter how my body is transformed;
  • I can, I will…continue teaching students how to overcome obstacles with grace, humor, and perseverance;
  • I can, I will…defy cancer by sporting a hot pink Mohawk and use my head as an art canvas;
  • I can, I will…continue running with my track athletes, even if chemo aids me in reenacting the scene from Chariots of Fire;
  • I can, I will…use humor to make the “cancer experience” entertaining, even though in reality uncertainty can be terrifying;
  • I can, I will…remind others that every day, no matter how insignificant or mundane it seems, is a day to treasure and enjoy;
  • I can, I will…stay focused, remain mentally tough, and exude confidence;
  • I can, I will…maintain a positive attitude and help others keep a healthy perspective on what is really important;
  • I can, I will…work on being more patient and learn to ask for help;
  • I can, I will…share my love and make sure others know that I care about them everyday;
  • I can, I will…model how to deal with adversity;
  • I can, I will…achieve my goals and help others be successful;
  • I can, I will…keep running this marathon and encourage those around me to keep fighting as well;
  • And…I can, I will…make it to the finish line.
From my experience, I can attest that the four words, “I can, I will,” are much more powerful then the three words, “You have cancer.” 

Lincoln added a new half marathon last fall (the Halfsy), and I signed up for it prior to my August diagnosis of metastatic breast cancer. Despite a lack of training—six miles is not a “long run,” I had a group of women who decided to run at my pace. At the start of the race, Courtney's friend, Peg, who was running with our "I CAN. I WILL!" group asked me, as we ran by the East High marquee, "How did you get your slogan, "I can, I will," up there?" Peg didn't know that I taught at East High. The phrase has taken over our athletic department this year. My friend and athletic director, made "I CAN. I WILL!" a rallying cry, for all of our athletes and teams. As a coaching staff, we have modified the phrase to "We can, we will! It has fully been embraced.

Since my first cancer diagnosis in 2009, the "I CAN. I WILL!" mantra has spread faster than the cancer cells. My athletes, students, and colleagues have written the phrase multiple times on my (former) baldhead; I have inked hundreds of plastic crocodiles with the mantra (I was told that the crocodile is my animal totem, according to an Aboriginal woman I met while I was on a trip in Australia—crocodiles exhibit “power, tenacity, wisdom, creativity, and survival”) and I handed them out to those in need of inspiration. I have seen my athletes write those four words on their arms with Sharpies; the phrase dons the sleeves and the fronts of several shirts—even on other team’s t-shirts.  My mantra has been written in different ways, using different punctuation, but the meaning is the same. These four words have powered me (and others) through lots of situations, from cross-country races in high school to dealing with cancer and other challenging obstacles.


What is your favorite race to either watch or run?
I love chasing our girls and boys around the cross-country course, particularly at Pioneers Park, the course where I spent many hours racing and training. While we have always had competitive teams, it is empowering to watch our kids run their personal records, whether that’s our girl finishing first or our girl with autism finishing the race.

During the track season, the best part of the meet is the mile. This was my favorite race to compete in when I was in high school and college, and I can always feel the electricity in the air when it comes time for this event. The mile is a combination of endurance and speed, and it takes a strong-willed mind to focus during that third lap (for some reason, it is easy to hit your time on the 800, and during the last lap, you can smell the finish line).

I am not a competitive runner anymore, but there are still races that I can run and share that “team experience.” In Nebraska, we have the Market-to-Markey Relay, a team event that originally started in the Old Market in Omaha, Nebraska, and wrapped up 80-some miles later in the Haymarket in downtown Lincoln, Nebraska. I have been a part of this relay since its inception, either as a runner or a team supporter. My college teammates are good at convincing me to run marathons. I have run Chicago twice (2004 and 2006) and New York City (2009). I joke that my friends can finish the race, go back to the hotel, shower, eat lunch, and then come back to watch me cross the line.


What makes you Run Happy?
I have always been a runner, and despite what cancer tries to take from me, running will always be in my blood--even though the very composition of my blood has changed due to my stem cell transplant. Chemo, radiation, an assortment of non-performance enhancing drugs, a resting heart rate twice as fast as the beat at the peak of my career, annoying side effects--they have chipped away at my minute-per-mile pace, but they can't take away what I know: my inner being--at its very core--is a runner; I have always been a runner.

How has running defined my existence and, ultimately, my happiness? I can’t imagine a time in my life where running hasn’t been a key part of it. From summer fun runs with my father to four state high school team championships at Lincoln Southeast to an All-American cross country runner at Wesleyan to a cross country and track coach at Lincoln East High School, my center of gravity has always been around running.

This fall, our school had to deal with a devastating loss—a well-loved and highly talented student committed suicide. A unique individual, Tony wore I  ____ t-shirts everyday to school, and, in response to the news, I decided to write a tribute to him. While my list extended for a few pages, reflecting other dimensions of my life, many of my "I ♥" statements were about my love of running: 

I ♥ telling stories and making people laugh on long runs
♥ getting "pressured" by my friends to run marathons
♥ using the phrase "I can. I will!"
 reminiscing with my high school and college running buddies
 running
 coaching kids who want to be successful
 being around other people who emit positive vibes
 being the first person in line and the first one to the finish line
 smelling new running shoes
 crocodiles and people with crocodile mentalities
 my cross country and track kids
 running with my former teammates
 living by the phrase "I Can. I Will!"
 buying lots of things at marathon expos, so I'm sure to finish the race
 finishers' medals
 the Lincoln Running Company (and my college coach Ann Ringlein)
 NWU Cross Country
 East Cross Country and Track

As a coach, I want my athletes to find their inner runners and to channel their own “I can. I will!” philosophies.

* * *
Today, I received another email: there was one more question that wasn't on the questionnaire: "What is the one line—the number one piece of coaching advice--you tell your athletes to inspire them and/or to get them run their best? (This could be something like “Dig deep and never look back” or something similar)" 

Yeah, I do have some coaching (and life) advice: 
I CAN. I WILL!