Considering Courage #AlwaysUnCanceled

Writing about courage isn't a tough thing to do. I've already done it in this blog. I was telling yall about one of my sisters from a different mommie and mister, and well, I heard from her this week. She might be feeling some kind of way about things in her life right not, but she's doing it and feeling it, with all that courage she has.

Gratitude is Done. Hope has been checked off the list. There was laughter and humor. (I got some #Humor in with #GSB7daychallenges #SeriousBusiness). I even got a little inspired. Now it’s time we consider COURAGE.

I’ve often thought of courage, with the words one of those #tall runners shared with me #oaklandrelay #teamTallsAndSmalls … On taking writing seriously, she told me to do it afraid. Isn’t that the way with courage? A reaction to fear. Something scary happening to you, forcing you to be decided about your next course of action. I don’t like the person my fear reveals to me. She becomes this inanimate being, that watches the world move around her. And this week was no different.

I got (still have) a terrible sinus infection. A sister-friend’s grandmother passed. Shellie is mourning or grieving (or hell, I don’t know). And since the old folks used to say things happened in threes – I’m hoping that the “dying” of my nasal cavity is being counted, because I can’t have any more of this. I mean, did yall forget about that whole pandemic happening outside our windows? Not that I was a fan or supporter of funeral related activities... My feelings aside, I have always wanted people to be able to make their peace, with their loss(es), in the ways they see fit. And the’rona is out here seeing fit physical separations – of all kinds. Can you imagine that? Not being able to wish those that have passed on a proper farewell, for the real possibility that you might join them in 14 days or less. My God.

I'm surprised I even got out there. I wasn't completely immobile this week, but I was completely static some of the time. DJ D-Nice keeps the doors to #ClubQuarantine open, and I need my #LoveBizarre fix, which forces me to move. But that’s also the thing about courage isn’t it? It surprises you.

10k = 6.2 miles

Running (outdoor): 6.35 miles

   [The Math: There I go, overachieving again…if you can even call it that.]

Scarlet Flowers (Los Angeles, CA)

I met a woman who loves sunflowers just as much as I do. I did not think it possible. I love sunflowers so much, that when people who know me see them, wherever they are, they call/msg me to let me know that they saw sunflowers. They’re literally the only flower I receive, and I don’t know that I even told all the senders that they were my favorite. I guess I dropped enough hints. But, woman, sunflowers, we love them, differently and the same.

The first time we met, at her home, I was overwhelmed by yellow. It was giving me ...oh, maker did you know... and I need your sunshine on me vibes. It was the feeling of yellow, of sunflowers, vibrating through you. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt more at home in a place I did not live in my life. I brought with me a sunflower mug, as is the custom to bring the host flowers. We hugged. There were more vibrations. Those vibrations, those emotions, those feelings, have so many names. We loop them into love though. That was love.

That woman is not just a sunflower, she is everything that sunflowers represent. Courage being above them all. This 10k was because of her. Because maybe that surprise I felt was a reverberation of the vibration we shared that first day. I thought I had only gone four miles, but when I was almost home, I was already passed the six-mile mark. I imagine with everything she is facing, in the difficult times that these are, I think she is tapping into something on the inside – and maybe something like me, it’s a surprise to her, too. And she’s finding out that she has more, is doing more, is at her own six-mile mark, when only a few were required.

The Un-Canceled Project, Part One ends on COMMITMENT.

I see what yall did there. I see.

Run Like A Jogger! #NationalRunningDay2014

Get Up. Get Out. Get Moving. Well, after work, I will do all of those things. Mostly because I’m not like some of my running counterparts who will wake before Jerusalem to tackle the pavement. Ain't nobody for time to be interrupting Idris Elba making pancakes in my dreams for that. Yes, he's shirtless.

On this national day of running, I shall reflect on my very first run. The Wicked 10K in Virginia Beach. One of my RHDs suggested that I do the race. I wanted to crawl under a rock. Sure I run. But that’s on a treadmill. In an air conditioned gym. With other people not interested in what I’m doing because they’re working out too. If I run outside *gasp* people will look at me! They will see me *double gasp* Running!

I can’t have that. I really can’t.

But she was persistent. You run in costume. The race ends on the beach. There is lots of awesome race swag and free beer! It is basically like an adult Halloween party.

Okay. I got a little time for that.

I registered. Next stop, race expo. I had no idea what I was getting into. I figured there would be a line where you pick up this “bib” thing, and then you leave, right? Wrong! I had never seen so many people at an event that wasn’t a concert, or a fair, or an airport or Black Friday shopping. I mean people everywhere! And they are happy. Like legitimately happy.

Guess I’m doing this. I get my bib. I find my shirt. They give me a cool bag. And there’s more. More free stuff! Yessir! This is amazing. I should always listen to my RHD. She’s all knowing.

It’s the morning of race day. I’ve looked up the directions to the parking area and start line. I’ve made my way into my fairy wings. I’ve pinned my race bib to my shirt. I’ve laced up my new balances. All that’s left is to do this thing. This really scary thing. Run. Outside. Where. People. Will. See. Me.

…and it was the most amazing experience ever. There were some awesome costumes. Happy people. Strangers cheering us on. Other runners clapping for each other as they pass. I mean a bunch of very nice people. Granted I can’t do all the things they’re doing because, well, breathing is difficult. But I make note of it. I take it all in. I smile between gasps.

As I am coming up on the finish line, I am thanking God. Literally thanking Him for making this end. I mean, I am done. Like why in the HAYLE would I agree to run 6.2 miles? This is nuts! But I’m almost finished and I’m hungry. Just. One. More. Step.

At the finish like I am thinking about my life and my choices and the decisions that lead me to this sweaty existence. Then this young lady hands me a medal and says Congratulations!

The biggest kool-aid smile adorns my face. I look around, and I think to myself, OMG! I won! I won! I can’t believe it, I won! And I am excited. Legitimately excited. Only, I look around at the hundreds of people already on the beach. The people with costumes, and race bibs, and beer, and medals.

My life was changed in 2010 more than I could have imagined.

But wait. I won. I got a medal. How did they win? Did I not win? I’m so confused. But I’m hungry, so there’s that. And it needs my immediate attention. I’ll figure out who I return this medal to later.

My RHD explained the whole race thing to me when we got back to campus. Everyone wins because everyone starts, and finishes. It doesn’t matter how fast you are. It matters only that you compete. You’re not out there running to beat anyone but your best self and of course, the pavement.

I never wanted chilli like I did in that moment #groupie

Wow. It makes so much sense. I can do this. I can start. I can finish. I can always show up and be my best self. And yes, I am terrified that people will see me and judge my ill-formed, newborn elephant’esque running form, but maybe, just maybe they will be like the folks who were out on the course in San Diego. The people so excited to see us pass in full sprint and half step alike. Every one of us got a cheer and a smile. And if their intentions are less than honorable, you can always post your #MedalMonday picture. It’s not like they’re getting a medal for that sideline hate.

Whatever your reason for running, remember that it’s yours. It belongs to nobody else but you. You are the only person who knows that it means, because you created it. You nurture it every time you lace up those running shoes.

My National Running Day. #2014 #SanJose #LunchRun

This National Running Day I sent a fellow #BlackGirlRunning my race calendar for the year. She replied to my email thank you, and commented on my email signature…

"...see you wouldn't ask why the rose that grew from the crack in the concrete had damaged petals...on the contrary, we would all celebrate its tenacity, we would all love its will to reach the sun...well, we are the rose, this is the concrete, and these are my damaged petals...don't ask me why...thank God...ask me how." #TupacShakur

I ran today because there would have been no way that I could have seen the sunflowers bloom from the concrete of these San Jose streets otherwise. And believe me, they are in full bloom!