Magically Painful Miles in Life's Journey of Transformations
What happens when you take your own happiness, rewrite your chapters and keep promises to yourself—- maybe for the first time ever?
For the last nine years, I’ve embraced this notion of “creating my own happiness.” Throughout affliction, I realized my day, my outlook and yes, even my happiness, was decidedly on me. I could truly embrace the adage of “the glass is half full” or be my own worst enemy and wallow in everything I couldn’t control in my life.
There might have been tears, dreadful days of grief, confusion and heartache, but what burned continuously was perseverance and hope. I had blind faith and an undying stubbornness to construct my own ending to the story.
As life ebbs and flows, the challenge, however, is preventing complacency. What was good for me yesterday might not be good enough for me today. It is a constant metamorphosis. I am a constant metamorphosis.
Part of my own transformation is constantly trying to be a better person for others and for myself. My flaws and inadequacies could fill a book, and it is more difficult to see and address those failures when we are further from center.
In the last 18 months, gaining a deeper center and exploring a new level of perseverance and change has been a more focused mantra within my continuous growth. I had worked on my marriage, myself emotionally and intellectually, my faith, my family and it was time to work on my health (cardiac, endurance, strength, weight loss and activity).
I was, after all, in a state of inactivity—never really exercising in my adult life. Six pregnancies, five months of bedrest and a general love for food had altered my physical state inside and out. As a special needs parent with the responsibility of lifting and carrying for an non ambulatory growing child who will become a non ambulatory adult some day, it was time to change— time to be better for her and for me.
With impending change in the air, I always sense the universe prodding me in the right direction. Sometimes, however, I don’t want to listen or I really dislike it’s message. But when we are open, ready, and willing to experience a true transformation the tools are right at hand.
For me, this tool was a flyer from our club about a free first session with a personal trainer. With insecurities, fear, and dragging feet I went. This one decision was the first step to an entirely different life. This trainer would become a friend, a mentor, a punisher, a redeemer, and the key holder to a new future. There would be tears, pain, moments of failure, doubts, and constant challenges—- mostly to keep my promise (to myself) not to quit.
Fast forward 18 months, and I find myself a new person (physically dramatically different inside and out) and running my third half marathon. It was during this third half marathon, a RunDisney event at the Disney World Marathon Weekend, where I had to renegotiate with myself on where my true limits lied and how the story was going to end— pushing myself again beyond new limitations, new expectations and into a positive outlook.
It was less than 20 hours before I found myself on a very painful mile ten of this race that I had the great (yet very characteristic) misfortune of falling off an Expo bus. Sheeting rain had soaked the ground and unfortunately the steps of the bus. With caution I put my son behind me and grabbed the railing. That was the last thing I remembered before feeling the impact of the stairs.
Within nanoseconds the pain reached my brain and the swelling began. Thankfully, I was wearing a backpack filled with diapers for the little ones which prevented me from hitting my head, back, kidneys. Not so fortunately, however, was that I hit my right elbow and upper right thigh on the edge of the stairs. Swollen, bruised (body and ego) I painfully and slowly limped to find a medical tent. By the time I was with a medic the injuries had swelled to the point where walking was too excruciatingly painful, and I was unable to bend my arm at the elbow. Ice and Ibuprofen were my new best friends—my two hopes for enough rehabilitation to run a half marathon by early morning.
As my alarm sounded at 2:45 the morning of the race, I was relieved to be able to walk relatively pain free. As we journeyed the mile or so to the corral for the start of the race my muscles felt warmed up and ready to conquer the 13.1 mile course.
Here I was— standing in corral with 22,000 other runners embarking on a dream to run the magical miles of Disney. I was injured, but upright. It had been a year of dreaming and training. I had taken my body from 50 pounds heavier to a much more fit and trim frame. I became a “runner” in my mind and in the minds of others. No longer was I the woman who couldn’t run thirty-seconds without stopping. I had become a twice half marathon non-stop runner about to conquer a third in just eight months time. The magical lights of Cinderella's castle awaited me. The exhilaration of crossing the finish line in Epcot was only a couple of hours away—— if.
If…
We train, we run. We mostly choose our run days and run times. I love running in the cold, for instance. I choose to run on days without injury. I normally run on a decent night’s sleep. I run in my own climate, on my own terms and in my own altitude. I run flat. I run strong. I run consistent.
Race days, especially destination race days, are runs that are completely out of your control. The date, time, location are set in stone. The weather is unpredictable. The course is new to you, and in some instances nothing you could prepare for. . . a little like life?
That’s the challenge.
And challenged, I was. The race started off crowded but beautifully. I was running a Disney Half Marathon!! The first few miles were easy. It was humid, warmer than anticipated and the fog limited visibility but I was still in the zone. The crowds prevented me from setting my usual pace, but with injuries I wondered if that wasn’t a godsend.
As we approached the first massive ascent, however, I could feel my bad knee (snowboarding injury from years ago) inflame and my recent injury from the fall was becoming quite noticeable. Still, I pushed through and mile two quickly became mile four. Approaching Magic Kingdom filled me with excitement and anticipation of seeing the castle, running the park before opening and all of the magic that awaited.
Before setting my eyes on the caste, however, I had to first conquer a dreaded, steep and lengthy underpass that I feared would be on the course. Steep descents are my achilles heel in running because of my bad knee and as most of my fellow runners gained speed on descent, this was when I had to slow my pace to protect my knee. Relief came inside the level ground of the tunnel but as we ascended out again I could feel my knee, my fresh injury and encroaching doubt about finishing my half with a personal best time.
Believing I had just overcome one of the greatest challenges of the course, I was disheartened as we further approached the park and entered a part of the course that was on an extreme slant of an uneven path. I couldn’t have trained for such terrain and given two healthy knees and no injury from falling off a bus, I most certainly would have felt better. Running high on the exaggerated slope was painful. Running low on the slope was equally painful, and unfortunately running straight in the middle of the slope didn’t offer any relief either. Any healing that had happened in the last few hours from my fall had vanished back into a sea of painful inflammation.
And then we turned the corner from behind the side gates of Main Street into Magic Kingdom….
The magic of Disney and the accompanied adrenaline of the moment as we turned onto a lined Main Street with cheering spectators vanquished all pain. Before sunrise and still illuminated with Christmas lights, it was a magical and emotional sight of an otherwise empty Magic Kingdom.
We ran down Main Street with an illuminated Frozen lit Cinderella’s castle in our sights. This was by far the most emotional, fantastical, pain-free moment of the race. The experience is mostly beyond words. It was euphoric. My body just moved—glided, as my mind disconnected from every bit of angst, doubt, pain, and thought.
Turning right off Main Street, the course took us through an empty Tomorrowland and around into Fantasyland, thru Cinderella’s castle and eventually out Frontierland 'behind the stage' so-to-speak of Magic Kingdom. As we departed Magic Kingdom we crossed the railroad tracks with the iconic Magic Kingdom steam train whistling with encouragement.
It was everything I had wanted, dreamed and wished for—- it was the magical miles of a Disney run.
Leaving Magic Kingdom was another seven miles or so to the finish line which would take us back to Epcot. Mile seven, eight, nine all went by quickly. I was in the zone— a painful zone from injury, but a manageable zone thanks to the flat surface and the emotional high from Magic Kingdom.
Somewhere along the course after mile nine, however, the ascents/descents, slopes, injury, bum knee (in which I had re-injured just two weeks before the race) and lack of sleep caught up with me. Manageable pain wasn’t so manageable anymore. It had morphed into an agonizing level of pain never before felt, and with every step I doubted my continuation, struggled with my pace and had to argue with myself over whether to walk a few steps or even stop at a medical tent for medication and/or icy hot.
In those miles, I wished for my running partner by my side. I dreamt of the finish line. I convinced myself I hadn’t yet reached my threshold. And I promised myself that slowing anymore, walking or stopping at a medical tent wasn’t going to be the way I finished this race. I could run half marathons, and now I was going to prove it to myself that I could run one with a fresh injury to the leg.
I had to adjust my expectations while still pushing my limits—
Isn’t that what we need to do every day--in life, in our afflictions and in our pursuit for our own happiness?
Epcot finally came into my view. It would mean the finish line was finally near. I wanted to finish strong in spite of feeling anything but. As they say at my gym, “empty your tank” and it was the “all-out” of all ‘all-outs’ as I ran the last half mile.
Crossing the finish line was nothing short of glorious. I was done. My tank was officially empty. I had kept moving in its entirety and in the end I was only ten minutes slower than my personal best time. After being awarded my medal by a volunteer, I headed straight to the medical tent. It was much needed and slightly overdo, but it came on my terms.
Like anything in life, we set forth a plan and God laughs. This race was no different.
I had fallen two weeks before the race and then again just hours beforehand. There was no plan for that. The weather was, for me, worse case scenario for the time of year and the course itself was more difficult than anticipated for a runner with injuries whom solely trains on flat terrain.
My running life gave me lemons, and I demanded my medal anyway.
Transform or bust. Almost anything we can dream for ourselves is within our reach— a moment of happiness in affliction, a new ‘you’, a different life path. We just have to decide we are worth it. We owe ourselves kept promises for change and for happiness. We owe ourselves our dreams and the perseverance to reach out and take them.
Happy New Year! What will be your accomplished change in 2016? How will you ‘create’ your own happiness?
For the last nine years, I’ve embraced this notion of “creating my own happiness.” Throughout affliction, I realized my day, my outlook and yes, even my happiness, was decidedly on me. I could truly embrace the adage of “the glass is half full” or be my own worst enemy and wallow in everything I couldn’t control in my life.
There might have been tears, dreadful days of grief, confusion and heartache, but what burned continuously was perseverance and hope. I had blind faith and an undying stubbornness to construct my own ending to the story. As life ebbs and flows, the challenge, however, is preventing complacency. What was good for me yesterday might not be good enough for me today. It is a constant metamorphosis. I am a constant metamorphosis.
Part of my own transformation is constantly trying to be a better person for others and for myself. My flaws and inadequacies could fill a book, and it is more difficult to see and address those failures when we are further from center.
In the last 18 months, gaining a deeper center and exploring a new level of perseverance and change has been a more focused mantra within my continuous growth. I had worked on my marriage, myself emotionally and intellectually, my faith, my family and it was time to work on my health (cardiac, endurance, strength, weight loss and activity).
I was, after all, in a state of inactivity—never really exercising in my adult life. Six pregnancies, five months of bedrest and a general love for food had altered my physical state inside and out. As a special needs parent with the responsibility of lifting and carrying for an non ambulatory growing child who will become a non ambulatory adult some day, it was time to change— time to be better for her and for me.
With impending change in the air, I always sense the universe prodding me in the right direction. Sometimes, however, I don’t want to listen or I really dislike it’s message. But when we are open, ready, and willing to experience a true transformation the tools are right at hand.
For me, this tool was a flyer from our club about a free first session with a personal trainer. With insecurities, fear, and dragging feet I went. This one decision was the first step to an entirely different life. This trainer would become a friend, a mentor, a punisher, a redeemer, and the key holder to a new future. There would be tears, pain, moments of failure, doubts, and constant challenges—- mostly to keep my promise (to myself) not to quit. Fast forward 18 months, and I find myself a new person (physically dramatically different inside and out) and running my third half marathon. It was during this third half marathon, a RunDisney event at the Disney World Marathon Weekend, where I had to renegotiate with myself on where my true limits lied and how the story was going to end— pushing myself again beyond new limitations, new expectations and into a positive outlook.
It was less than 20 hours before I found myself on a very painful mile ten of this race that I had the great (yet very characteristic) misfortune of falling off an Expo bus. Sheeting rain had soaked the ground and unfortunately the steps of the bus. With caution I put my son behind me and grabbed the railing. That was the last thing I remembered before feeling the impact of the stairs.
Within nanoseconds the pain reached my brain and the swelling began. Thankfully, I was wearing a backpack filled with diapers for the little ones which prevented me from hitting my head, back, kidneys. Not so fortunately, however, was that I hit my right elbow and upper right thigh on the edge of the stairs. Swollen, bruised (body and ego) I painfully and slowly limped to find a medical tent. By the time I was with a medic the injuries had swelled to the point where walking was too excruciatingly painful, and I was unable to bend my arm at the elbow. Ice and Ibuprofen were my new best friends—my two hopes for enough rehabilitation to run a half marathon by early morning.
As my alarm sounded at 2:45 the morning of the race, I was relieved to be able to walk relatively pain free. As we journeyed the mile or so to the corral for the start of the race my muscles felt warmed up and ready to conquer the 13.1 mile course.
Here I was— standing in corral with 22,000 other runners embarking on a dream to run the magical miles of Disney. I was injured, but upright. It had been a year of dreaming and training. I had taken my body from 50 pounds heavier to a much more fit and trim frame. I became a “runner” in my mind and in the minds of others. No longer was I the woman who couldn’t run thirty-seconds without stopping. I had become a twice half marathon non-stop runner about to conquer a third in just eight months time. The magical lights of Cinderella's castle awaited me. The exhilaration of crossing the finish line in Epcot was only a couple of hours away—— if.
If…
We train, we run. We mostly choose our run days and run times. I love running in the cold, for instance. I choose to run on days without injury. I normally run on a decent night’s sleep. I run in my own climate, on my own terms and in my own altitude. I run flat. I run strong. I run consistent.
Race days, especially destination race days, are runs that are completely out of your control. The date, time, location are set in stone. The weather is unpredictable. The course is new to you, and in some instances nothing you could prepare for. . . a little like life?
That’s the challenge.
And challenged, I was. The race started off crowded but beautifully. I was running a Disney Half Marathon!! The first few miles were easy. It was humid, warmer than anticipated and the fog limited visibility but I was still in the zone. The crowds prevented me from setting my usual pace, but with injuries I wondered if that wasn’t a godsend.
As we approached the first massive ascent, however, I could feel my bad knee (snowboarding injury from years ago) inflame and my recent injury from the fall was becoming quite noticeable. Still, I pushed through and mile two quickly became mile four. Approaching Magic Kingdom filled me with excitement and anticipation of seeing the castle, running the park before opening and all of the magic that awaited. 
Before setting my eyes on the caste, however, I had to first conquer a dreaded, steep and lengthy underpass that I feared would be on the course. Steep descents are my achilles heel in running because of my bad knee and as most of my fellow runners gained speed on descent, this was when I had to slow my pace to protect my knee. Relief came inside the level ground of the tunnel but as we ascended out again I could feel my knee, my fresh injury and encroaching doubt about finishing my half with a personal best time. Believing I had just overcome one of the greatest challenges of the course, I was disheartened as we further approached the park and entered a part of the course that was on an extreme slant of an uneven path. I couldn’t have trained for such terrain and given two healthy knees and no injury from falling off a bus, I most certainly would have felt better. Running high on the exaggerated slope was painful. Running low on the slope was equally painful, and unfortunately running straight in the middle of the slope didn’t offer any relief either. Any healing that had happened in the last few hours from my fall had vanished back into a sea of painful inflammation.
And then we turned the corner from behind the side gates of Main Street into Magic Kingdom….
The magic of Disney and the accompanied adrenaline of the moment as we turned onto a lined Main Street with cheering spectators vanquished all pain. Before sunrise and still illuminated with Christmas lights, it was a magical and emotional sight of an otherwise empty Magic Kingdom.
We ran down Main Street with an illuminated Frozen lit Cinderella’s castle in our sights. This was by far the most emotional, fantastical, pain-free moment of the race. The experience is mostly beyond words. It was euphoric. My body just moved—glided, as my mind disconnected from every bit of angst, doubt, pain, and thought.
Turning right off Main Street, the course took us through an empty Tomorrowland and around into Fantasyland, thru Cinderella’s castle and eventually out Frontierland 'behind the stage' so-to-speak of Magic Kingdom. As we departed Magic Kingdom we crossed the railroad tracks with the iconic Magic Kingdom steam train whistling with encouragement. It was everything I had wanted, dreamed and wished for—- it was the magical miles of a Disney run.
Leaving Magic Kingdom was another seven miles or so to the finish line which would take us back to Epcot. Mile seven, eight, nine all went by quickly. I was in the zone— a painful zone from injury, but a manageable zone thanks to the flat surface and the emotional high from Magic Kingdom.
Somewhere along the course after mile nine, however, the ascents/descents, slopes, injury, bum knee (in which I had re-injured just two weeks before the race) and lack of sleep caught up with me. Manageable pain wasn’t so manageable anymore. It had morphed into an agonizing level of pain never before felt, and with every step I doubted my continuation, struggled with my pace and had to argue with myself over whether to walk a few steps or even stop at a medical tent for medication and/or icy hot.
In those miles, I wished for my running partner by my side. I dreamt of the finish line. I convinced myself I hadn’t yet reached my threshold. And I promised myself that slowing anymore, walking or stopping at a medical tent wasn’t going to be the way I finished this race. I could run half marathons, and now I was going to prove it to myself that I could run one with a fresh injury to the leg.
I had to adjust my expectations while still pushing my limits—
Isn’t that what we need to do every day--in life, in our afflictions and in our pursuit for our own happiness?
Epcot finally came into my view. It would mean the finish line was finally near. I wanted to finish strong in spite of feeling anything but. As they say at my gym, “empty your tank” and it was the “all-out” of all ‘all-outs’ as I ran the last half mile.
Crossing the finish line was nothing short of glorious. I was done. My tank was officially empty. I had kept moving in its entirety and in the end I was only ten minutes slower than my personal best time. After being awarded my medal by a volunteer, I headed straight to the medical tent. It was much needed and slightly overdo, but it came on my terms. Like anything in life, we set forth a plan and God laughs. This race was no different.
I had fallen two weeks before the race and then again just hours beforehand. There was no plan for that. The weather was, for me, worse case scenario for the time of year and the course itself was more difficult than anticipated for a runner with injuries whom solely trains on flat terrain.
My running life gave me lemons, and I demanded my medal anyway.
Transform or bust. Almost anything we can dream for ourselves is within our reach— a moment of happiness in affliction, a new ‘you’, a different life path. We just have to decide we are worth it. We owe ourselves kept promises for change and for happiness. We owe ourselves our dreams and the perseverance to reach out and take them. Happy New Year! What will be your accomplished change in 2016? How will you ‘create’ your own happiness?
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