Success is Grown in The Little Things

by Jodi

On February 1st, my husband Curt and I participated in the Roaring Run in Scio, Oregon. He ran the 10k. I gave full effort for the slowest half marathon I've run in over eight years. BLECH.

Trying to pretend we were excited to go run in the rain and the wind.

Such a small event that my finish time got me second place age group and fourth overall woman. 

Dr. Stilp makes everything better.  I love him.

When I tore my meniscus in August of last year, I was over four years into my run streak.  Each of those four years, I ran an average of 2,000 miles a year or about 5.5 miles a day.  I had a broad base of mileage and speed to pull from, and I loved being strong and fast.

My exercise rhythm post-surgery has been challenging.  I can't quite seem to find a healthy balance between running, rest, and implementing other forms of exercise like yoga and walking. 

I tried an exercise streak, but only made it 73 days before I accidentally missed a day.  I was irritated, so I took two more days off just because I could. You'd think I would come off those days feeling rested and relaxed, but I just felt bloated and grouchy. 

I put the Roaring Run half marathon on my calendar hoping it would motivate me to get back in the swing of doing some hard workouts again.  I put track, tempo, and long run workouts on my calendar.  Each time they came up, I found a reason to cancel or modify the workout. I was woefully undertrained for this race and I knew it.

Race morning it was raining with 17 mph winds on an exposed course. Wind is my least favorite weather condition to race in.  Curt doesn't even like running.  He was just participating because it was something we could do together. We legitimately considered skipping the race and going back to bed.  Even worse, I was the one who suggested this.

In the car on the way to the race, I committed to stop whining about the 13.1 miles ahead of me and choose joy, be thankful, and give my best effort. 

The race was hard.  I knew it would be.

• It was a super small crowd of runners this year.  I chased a woman for the first six miles, but once I passed her, I was alone on the country roads.  It was super lonely and difficult to maintain a race mentality.
• This race was only my fifth double digit run in the last seven months.  YIKES.  My legs were tired at mile 9.  
• I had trained so little that I didn't have a realistic goal pace per mile.  I really had no idea what my body could do. I thought a 7:45 pace was attainable, and I maintained it for the first 6.82 miles.  Then I turned a corner and ran straight into that 17 mph headwind.  It obliterated me.  I kept the same effort and my pace dropped 20-30 seconds per mile.  It shows in my splits.
• The rain was persistent enough that I was soaked by the time I finished, but it could have been a lot worse.  I was thankful that the showers were scattered and not consistent.
• The water stations were limited and I was relying on them for water, so I was thirsty a lot. 
• Something in the air triggered my occasional shortness of breath so I worked hard for big chunks of the race to manage my breathing. 
• BLAH...BLAH...BLAH...

I was on the Struggle Bus.

Some days, running is just hard, even when you're well trained and prepared, which I was not.  I reminded myself of the goal I set in the car, and am very proud to say I followed through on managing my attitude, giving my best effort, and being grateful even when it was tempting to sit down on the side of the road and cry or call for a ride to the finish.   

I suspected that I had lost all my speed and a a large portion of my mileage base.  The Roaring Run race gave me a concrete number to solidify this theory.  I can work with that.

A few days after the race, I added a late spring half marathon to my calendar and downloaded a new training schedule.  The first long run was 9 miles and I lined up two friends to run some of it with me.  The morning of our run, one got sick and one got called into work. Immediately I texted, "I'll probably just skip it and do yoga instead."  For real.  This coming from the girl who didn't miss a day of running in four years.

I put down my phone and was immediately convicted.  I can't whine about being slow and out of shape if I'm not willing to put in the work to be fast and in shape.  I can't make a commitment to myself and then break my word to myself just because it's hard.  It's not right.  

It's not who I am.

I stopped what I was doing and headed out for ten lonely, but satisfying miles.  

Success is grown in the little things.  

View on my run.  It had a lot of climbing.

Those ten miles were the first of many little steps to a more successful half marathon later this spring.

What about you? Are you on the Struggle Bus, breaking promises to yourself or to others?  Do you want to join me in committing to keeping your word and growing success through the little decisions?  Let's go!

All Good Things Must Come to an End: 1,521 Days

by Jodi

All good things must come to an end.  I tore the meniscus on my right knee in early August.  I knew immediately that something big was wrong.  The pain was manageable, but the instability of my knee was nauseating.  It shifted and popped internally as I walked, and frequently gave out or sent shooting pain through the side of my knee.  Oddly, it felt better running than when I was walking.

I had to step off my anchor leg of the Portland Running Company Girlz Hood to Coast team.  Curt and I were supposed to go on a three day backpacking trip through the Sisters Wilderness.  That got modified to what we termed "backcamping,"  camping in our tent on our comfy cots, but took day hikes into the Sisters Wilderness.  The final big blow was bowing out of a South Sister summit with three of my running buddies.  All three events had been on the calendar for months.  They each felt like a loss.

The biggest loss was ending my run streak.  I knew when I tore my meniscus that it was not going to get better without surgery and that the end of the streak was inevitable.  I also knew that what's torn is torn.  Running was not going to make my injury any worse, so I ran my streak out all the way to the day of surgery.

On Friday, September 6th, I met my friend Paula on Portland's south waterfront and we ran one, slow mile, trying not to sweat because I had to abstain from food or drink in anticipation of surgery.  Paula inspired me to start a streak, so it seemed almost sacred that we would share the last mile of my streak together. Paula reminded me that it was okay to grieve the end of my streak.  She also reminded me that 4+ years of running every day was something to celebrate.  We reviewed all the big life changes that took place in the four years of my streak.

Here are some of the highlights:

• My husband got his doctorate while working full time.
• My son started high school.  Got his drivers permit.  Got his driver's license.  Won four state titles in water polo. Played three high school sports all four years of high school. Graduated from high school with honors. Got his first full time job. Started college.
• My daughter Katie finished middle school. Started high school.  Got her drivers permit. Got her license. Got her first job.  Upgraded to a second job that she loves even more. Played two high school sports all four years of her high school career. Started her senior year and is applying to colleges. 
• My daughter Alli finished middle school.  Started high school. Went from middle school athletics to playing four varsity sports her freshman year.  Got her drivers permit.  Landed her first job. And we can't wait for her to get her license in the spring because... ALL THE SPORTS!
• My youngest daughter Paige finished elementary school. Started middle school. Added two more sports to her schedule. Got certified as a babysitter. Grew at least a foot.
• My photography business went from very part-time to almost full time.  I added real estate photography and corporate head shots to my menu, and deleted weddings.
• I won a marathon with a new marathon PR that I'm pretty sure I will never get close to again.  I still can't believe that a first place plaque is hanging on my garage wall. 
• I completed an ultra-relay, running more than 40 miles in 29 hours for my portion. This might be the pinnacle of my running career.  
• I got to wear the Portland Running Company uniform and represent them at Hood to Coast for three of the past four years.
• Ran several marathons, half marathons, relays, and 10ks over the past four years, each with their own flavor, story, and piece of my heart.

It was good to pause and reflect on all the ways God has led me and my family in the past 4+ years.  

It's been ten days since I had surgery.  The first three days were miserable: non-weight bearing and couldn't get ahead of the pain.  Day four was a step above miserable.  Day five was the turning point. I ditched the crutches and started the painful process of bearing weight and trying to break up all that swelling in my knee.  

Seven days after surgery, I walked one mile.

Today, I ran my first mile post surgery.  

Ran my first mile post-surgery

I am in awe of the human body and it's ability to heal.

I would love to start another run streak, but this is my second meniscus surgery in ten years.  My surgeon said this surgery should get me another ten years - give or take - out of my knee.  The running is therapeutic for my soul, but not so great on my knee.  I am taking my husband's advice and starting an exercise streak instead.  I love the accountability of a streak to keep me moving each day, and am intrigued by the flexibility that an exercise streak will offer.  I hope to bring back more consistent yoga, cycling, strength training and maybe even swimming (GAG), but we all know that the streak will be 90% running.  I'm on day four of this new exercise streak and am excited to see where it takes me.

In the end, my run streak was 1,521 days.  I'm grateful for every mile, every day, every friendship formed and forged on the run.  All good things must come to an end, but each ending leaves room for a new beginning.  Cheers to new beginnings.  Run on friends.

Running with Love and Grace: Hood to Coast Pacific City

By Tanya

Have you ever had one of those experiences where everything has so much MORE than you expected? More meaning, more challenge, more adventure, more accomplishment, more FUN? That is exactly what happened on May 4th at the Hood to Coast Pacific City Relay.

As you may remember, I was given the opportunity to run as a charity athlete for the American Cancer Society for the HTC Pacific City with my running team BRU4GRACIE in honor of my running mate Jamie's beautiful daughter Gracie who we lost to cancer just a few months before the race.

In the months leading up to the relay we were able to attend Gracie's "Biggest Pinkest Funeral" and see signs of her in our neighborhoods with the beautiful pink ribbons placed all around in her honor as well as the beautiful pink sunsets that reminded us of her brief but powerful time with us.

Because emotions were still raw it was with mixed emotions that we prepared our hearts and teams for the relay. Of course, first and foremost we wanted to honor Gracie and pour love and support on her family and those affected by cancer by raising money for ACS. Secondly, we wanted to make sure Jamie was okay to run especially since he had taken on the task of leg 11, the most difficult leg in Hood to Coast history! Jamie remarked that he hadn't been able to train as much as he would have hoped but always the overcomer, he stated "This is going to be hard, but I've been through many things harder than this!"

When race day arrived two of our three teams were given the earliest 6am start time. We arrived in the dark morning with vans decked out in pink BRU4GRACIE signs and our hearts shining bright full of love. We took a few starting line photos and then the leg one runners were off!

For those of you who have not run a relay race before, the runners take turns running one leg at a time while the other runners charge ahead in the vans to the exchange point to get the next runner ready to grab the bracelet and set off for the next leg. This is done for the entire length of the race.

We had heard that this HTC was especially challenging with almost all of the legs being rated as "difficult" based on the length and/or elevation gain. With HTC Pacific City being a one day relay we knew we would all be running two legs, one in the 1-6 leg first half and then one in the 7-12 second half; but we also knew they all would be challenging. In our van, we felt confident that we were all strong runners and were up for the task. After we assigned each runner their legs we calculated what pace we though we could sustain and our anticipated finish time for each leg.

As our runners set out for their first leg, we were full of adrenaline and were happy to find we were very close to our anticipated finish times.

Lynnette had the first leg. All downhill, all in the dark and completely unsupported (meaning the vans took a different route so the runners were out there all on their own)! She was a trooper! Brave and fast as ever Lynnette bolted down that hill leaving many runners in her dust, where she met up with Paul for leg two.

Paul, the unassuming speedster, got to run with the rising sun and overtake quite a few runners to set us up nicely for Dan's first leg.

Dan's leg was the shortest of the bunch, but Dan set out determined to get as many "roadkills" as possible (roadkills is the name given for runners you pass on your run). As we headed down to get ready for the exchange, we noticed in the distance the first runner of the leg already coming in. To our excitement it was Dan! He had run faster than his anticipated running time, got five roadkills and set us in the lead for Nancy's first leg which was a MAJOR hill climb!

Nancy, tiny but mighty, set out ready to eat that hill for breakfast! As we drove along her leg on the way to the exchange, even in the car we felt like it was a never ending mountain of a climbing!
When we got to the top, we met up with the other BRU4GRACIE team and the two runners from each van who had the two hardest legs of the course Alex from our van and Jamie from the other, prepared for the first of their two very challenging runs. 

As Nancy crested the hill she ran in fast to the exchange and passed the bracelet to our "secret weapon" Alex. Alex was the youngest on our team by a decade, and he was FAST! Alex was new to running but obviously had a natural ability and gift.
Alex's first leg also had a major hill but it seemed to make no difference to Alex! He tore through his leg and in no time it was time for my first run, leg 6.

By this time we had a substantial lead on the runners on the course and I had the surreal experience of running all alone through a beautiful forest! As I followed a soft rolling stream, turning past mossy rock walls and beautiful trees, I had a whole six miles of reflecting on what a blessing it was to have known Gracie. Even though I had only known her for a short time, she had taught me so much about the importance of life. I was so blessed to have a strong healthy body and most importantly wonderful friends and family, who supported each other and did their part to be a blessing to others and make the world a better place for everyone.
What a beautiful example it was to carry and pass along the bracelet also worn by my teammates through their unique experience on this same journey towards our shared goal of finishing the race well for the purpose of raising money for those affected by cancer.

As I handed off the bracelet to Lynnette, this set us on the course for the second half of our journey. During Lynnette's second leg she met up with some of the walkers on the course who had just started their journey. As we continued on through our various legs we were all inspired by little signs that reminded us of Gracie, such as the pink chalk heart on the road and the pink ribbons that adorned tree branches and markers along the course. 

We seemed to be carried along until it came to the dreaded leg 11. As aforementioned, Leg 11 is toted as the "most difficult leg in HTC history". It was at this exact leg that we were caught up by the "Elite" running teams, who had started two hours after us! Two teams in fact that were both vying for first place of the entire relay. When Alex took off for this leg of all legs, he was closely followed by these two competing runners. We wondered if Alex would be able to keep the lead against these two.
This leg is not only the most difficult because of the terrain and elevation gain, but it is also unsupported. The vans cannot go along this part of the course so Alex was on his own. Not to mention the sun was in full effect and the temperature was rising!
As we got into position for our last and final leg exchange we were once again excited to see our hero Alex running in first and faster than we expected!

I took the bracelet from Alex and headed off! I knew this would be my most challenging leg. This leg was eight miles of hot asphalt and hills! As anticipated, one of the first elite runners passed me within the first mile. I was no match for their 6 minute per mile pace! I wanted to keep strong though so I forged ahead and it wasn't until halfway through that the second elite runner caught up.

After that it was just me and my team for the last four miles. It was tough but my team was so great! It was hot, so they made a few extra stops to offer me water and cheer me on from the top of the biggest hill I had to tackle just before heading down into Pacific City and the finish.

As I rounded the corner into the beach finish my teammates handed me my bright pink BRU4GRACIE shirt and we all ran into the finish together radiating love and Grace. 
We got to spend the next couple hours cheering in the other two BRU4GRACIE teams into the finish and taking tons of pictures! The ACS hooked us up with an overnight stay at an awesome condo where we got to celebrate Gracie, each other, and all of the work we and ACS have done to support those battling cancer.

In loving memory of Gracie Williams

July 16, 2012- February 18, 2019

One Mile at a Time - Vernonia Half Marathon 2019

by Jodi

Seriously hate this photo of myself, but I love that I got a shiny new PR and so I am setting aside my pride and posting it anyway.  

Yesterday I ran the Vernonia half marathon.  Point to point, this FAST beautiful course features one mile of climbing, six miles of downhill, and six flat miles to the finish.  The entire course (minus the last mile through town) is run on a rails-to-trails trail system through a beautiful forest, including a suspension bridge over a canyon. It is SO PRETTY!

This course plays to my running strengths.  I'm a decent, but slow climber. In every race, I get passed on the uphill, but the downhill?  I can run downhill like nobody's business. Six miles of a gradual descent sounded like a perfect set up for a new half marathon PR.  I tentatively put the race on my calendar.

And then I got sick.  Three+ weeks of recovering from what probably was the flu, forced me to bail on an early winter half marathon and shelve Vernonia for a different year. But I couldn't quite let it go. My heart was pulling me toward this course and I needed to find my running mojo again.

Once I had full energy back, I started training for Vernonia but I was rusty. It has been so long since I've followed a training plan for a solo race. It's much easier to talk myself out of a hard track workout than it is to lace up the shoes and try to hit paces I wasn't in shape to hit, especially in the cold, wet winter months.  Adding an intense training schedule to our already chaotic family schedule felt overwhelming.  I had a choice.  Quit on the training or break it up into small, manageable chunks.

"Just do one week of training and see how it goes," I told myself.  So I did.  The long run felt LONG, the track workout asthma-inducing, and the tempo run was way off the prescribed pace, but I did it.   I finished week one... One mile at a time. Before I knew it, I had five solid weeks of training under my belt.  I still wasn't anywhere close to race pace, but I was getting faster and the long runs felt less painful.  I knew I could cover the distance capably, but could I race it?  More importantly, was this the right time to try?

My son is a senior in high school.  The week before the race, he:

1. Chose a university to attend.  
2. Said "No thank you" to the other universities that were waiting for an answer.
3. Finished and presented his senior project,  a requirement for high school graduation. 
4. Played three varsity lacrosse games. 
5. Took his girlfriend to their senior prom. 

And that's just his schedule.  All three of our girls also play spring sports and we are gone every single night of the week, chasing them around and cheering them on.  Why would I add to the chaos of the weekend by throwing in a race?

I vacillated back and forth between "I HAVE to run.  I'm ready," to "No way.  I need to be there for my family."  Just ask my friends who had to listen to me verbally process. The indecision was annoying. Four days before the race, when I was on an "I have to run this" upswing, I registered for the race.

On Saturday, in between my daughter taking her ACT college entrance exam and my oldest two kids getting ready for prom, I made monster cookies.  Ya'll know that's a requirement for a good race. My husband made me a loaded bowl for dinner, another pre-race tradition.  We were up after midnight waiting for our Lovelies to get home from prom, but this is my life. Chaotically unpredictable.

The morning of the race my friend Paula texted me. She's been one of my running mentors for years and her words centered me.

"One mile at a time.

You are putting a race in your log book, whatever it is.  

You go from here.

It takes courage.

You have lots of courage.

No matter your time, you are stepping to the line and you will finish and be proud.  

Stay in your zone. 

Finish strong. 

One mile at a time." 

(I have the best friends).

Paula's words came with me on that run. I celebrated every mile.  Kept my head up to soak in the beautiful view.  Picked faster runners ahead of me to focus on and chase down. Prayed.  Worshipped.  Thanked God for a strong body to see His incredible creation on the run.  I ran for the joy of running.  It was freeing and it was a beautiful.

I didn't tell anyone until after the race, but weeks ago I analyzed the course and put together a race plan to achieve a PR.  I knew exactly what I needed to run for EACH ONE of those thirteen MILES to cross the finish line faster than 1:35:01.  I just didn't believe I could actually run those paces.  But you guys...

Sometimes things just come together and an unexpectedly perfect race falls into your lap.  Mile 9 was the catalyst. I walked through the aid station to wash down my gel and when I picked back up at the same effort I had been going before, I was 25 seconds slower for that mile.  I had to decide if I would keep that same effort or kick it up a notch to stay at the pace I knew I needed to run to earn a PR.  The Lord just sustained me and I was able to increase my pace and effort.  One mile at a time.

Mile ten was right on target. One mile at a time.  It gave me the adrenaline boost to make sure miles eleven and twelve were in the zone too. One mile at a time.  When I came off the trail into town I knew I had a PR locked down.  I crossed the finish in 1:32:47 (7:04 average pace), with a shiny new PR by more than two minutes.  First place age division, fifth woman overall.  What just happened? One mile at a time.

My race by the splits

who knew I'd be so happy with a ribbon? LOL.

I've run long enough to know that the perfect races are few and far between.  Most races don't go as planned.  Runners have to learn to appreciate what goes well, grieve what goes wrong, and look to the next race to improve.  To have a perfect race fall in my lap, when I was relatively unprepared, was such an unexpected gift from God.  

Today, as I hobble around my house on The Sorest Legs Imaginable, I am grateful.  For my friends and Hood to Coast teammates who texted and called all afternoon to say "Congratulations. I was cheering for you."  They know my running well enough to know that this finish time was outside of my norm and they celebrated with me.  I'm a thankful for my husband who supports my run streak and managed the home front so I could chase down a dream.  And I am grateful to my Jesus, who knows my name and loves me so intimately and personally.  To Him be the glory.  

One mile at a time.  

This statement is profound.  It's not just for running either. This year?  It's been rough. So much death, sickness, and loss, not to mention the emotional roller coaster of my firstborn getting ready to launch and move a thousand miles away to college. Life can be overwhelming.  

But friends, let me remind you of something.  

Life takes courage.  

You have lots of courage. 

Every day you get up and toe the line of a new day?  That takes courage. One mile at a time.

Facing another wave of grief?  That takes courage. One mile at a time.

Learning a new skill?  That takes courage.  One mile at a time.

We don't walk through the valley of the shadow of death in one fell swoop.  We do it with courage, one mile at a time, one day at a time.  And we do it TOGETHER.

No matter how long it takes, you are stepping to the line of life.  

You will finish and be proud.  

Stay in your zone. 

Finish strong. 

One mile at a time."

All my love,

Jodi

RUNNING FOR ROBYN: NEW YORK CITY MARATHON 2019

By Tanya

When thinking about planning my running this year, I felt God’s voice telling me this is a year to run for others. I have run in the past to prove to myself that I could do it. That I had what it took to preserve and push through the hard training and tackle the incredible 26.2 mile distance of the marathon. And I did. I am truly blessed to have been given the opportunity to set big goals and work to achieve them with the support of my friends and family.

But this year is different. As one of my favorite sayings goes “We are blessed to be a blessing”. The past few years I have seen so many of my friends having to run a race they did not sign up for. A race that began when they heard the word cancer, and their lives changed in an instant.  

I cannot even begin to know what that must feel like and the ensuing all-consuming battle it takes to deal with all that goes into fighting cancer, emotionally, physically and spiritually. It really is the fight of their lives. But what I do know for sure, is that all of my friends who have fought this battle, have done so with the most open and honest hearts. I am truly in awe of their beauty, strength and courage.

They have opened themselves up to love and be loved in ways that makes everyone around them more aware of how precious life is and that we all need each other.

I have seen firsthand how when love is poured out it moves people. This year I have been blessed to partner with the American Cancer Society to do what I can to support and fight this battle alongside my friends for a special little girl named Gracie. I have been in parades, photos shoots, community groups, meals and all sort of gatherings where people have come together to do their part to support those affected by cancer. Their love and care for each other has truly inspired me.

Initially, I thought I was done running marathons for a while. But when yet another friend of mine, Robyn, heard that awful diagnosis, I knew I had to do more. I was given the opportunity to run in the New York City Marathon this year as a fundraising athlete for the American Cancer Society, and once again I was moved. 

Robyn is one of the most strong, generous, beautiful women I know. She has inspired me through her faithfulness to listen to the Lord and follow His leading. Robyn lives life to the fullest by giving and receiving love well. Robyn is just at the beginning of her race with cancer but I know this for sure, she has a purpose, and is already using this challenge to trust more, grow more, love more, and inspire others even more! 
I am honored to run 26.2 miles through the 5 boroughs of New York for Robyn and raise $3200 for cancer research and support.  It's a big goal but together we can do it! And as Robyn says, LET’S KICK CANCER’S ARSE!

This year I am running to celebrate with my sisters who have conquered this beast. I am running to remember the precious lives that this evil has taken from us. And I am running for my friends who are battling this monster right now. 

If you feel moved to help support me to run the New York City Marathon for the American Cancer Society please donate to my fundraising page and click on this link at American Cancer Society
Click on these words to be directed to Tanya's ACS page

Running For Gracie

BETHANY RUNNERS UNITE 4 GRACIE

By Tanya Corkum

We all have a race to run in this life. Sometimes we need to get out there and go it alone, to set a goal and push ourselves to prove we can do it. Sometimes we need go our own pace, to listen to our heart and body, because to try and run someone else’s race might lead to injury or disappointment. But more often than not, we need to run our race with friends.

Friends help to motivate and inspire us. Friends give us support and encouragement. Friends tell us what we are capable of, hold us accountable, and also remind us when we should hold back and rest. Friends are there to carry some of our load or just run along in silence so we know we are not alone.

In our running community we have one such group called Bethany Runners Unite (BRU). BRU has met every Saturday since its inception in September of 2016. BRU was started by friends Jamie Williams and Paul Enriquez whose goal was to unite runners in the Bethany area of Portland, Oregon to support each other in their running pursuits.

BRU is a publicly posted group on Facebook, open to anyone who wants to join, that welcomes runners of all abilities at 8am on Saturdays to run at their own pace and self-selected distance along the same predetermined route each week. The faster runners are encouraged to wait for the slower runners to catch up at specific sections before continuing on. BRU always ends where it begins, at Bethany Starbucks, where runners are invited to stay for coffee and socialize. 

BRU currently has 245 members online and has anywhere from 10-25 runners who show up every Saturday. BRU is also occasionally joined by other area running groups such as the Sunstone Running Club creating a wider range of support and friendships. 

Little did we know how important our community would become. In December of 2017 founder Jamie William’s 5-year-old daughter Gracie was diagnosed with DIPG a rare form of brain cancer. As Jamie, his wife Emily, and their son Liam tried to comprehend, process and take on all that was happening to Gracie, they began to reach out to their community and share openly on their Facebook page called Amazing Gracie about their experience.

The Williams invited us to be a part of their journey. They openly and honestly shared all of their experiences good and bad. They opened their hearts and lives to the support their community could offer. The Williams were surrounded by love and support from near and far. All over their neighborhood; school, work, church, and running club rallied around to do what we could to support them.

Jamie and his family did all they could to find help and support for Gracie, while doing all they could to keep themselves and their family healthy and connected. In between work, research, doctors’ visits, treatments, travel, and making wonderful family memories, Jamie would come back to run with BRU on Saturdays, most of the time running a 13-mile half marathon distance to keep his body and mind healthy. Through it all Jamie was always hopeful, positive and encouraging.

When American Cancer Society Community Development Manager, Shiela Peralta reached out to BRU to ask if we’d be interested in creating a Hood to Coast Pacific City team to raise funds to support those affected by cancer, we knew we had to get involved. In fact, we had so many members who wanted to participate that we created three BRU4GRACIE teams and got to work raising money to support the Society by running as charity runners for the Hood to Coast Pacific City relay on May 4, 2019.

As word of Gracie’s story spread, our village got even bigger. Shiela from the American Cancer Society and her boyfriend, Brandon started running with BRU and have become part of our running community. Family, friends and neighbors have reached out to ask how they can support Gracie and her family. Money was donated, and events were put on spreading love in Gracie’s honor bringing together strangers who became friends, connected by the desire to help support the Williams family and eliminate cancer.

Sweet little Gracie Williams finished her race peacefully in her sleep surrounded by family and friends on February 18, 2019. She and her family have taught us how to love and be loved well. They have shown us what perseverance, hope and strength are all about. They have also shown us the beauty of being honest, raw and vulnerable.

The Williams have taught us that life is precious and that not even one moment should be wasted. They reminded us of the power of community and the importance of caring for one another. They have proven that regardless of our differences we are more alike in our humanity; and that we can, and should, all do what we can to make the world a better place for everyone.

Gracie Williams is a light that has reminded us how to live and love well. It is our privilege to run in honor of Amazing Gracie and carry her light in our hearts shining bright. 

Prudent

by Jodi

PRUDENT: "acting with or showing care and thought for the future."

Today I bailed on a half marathon I was supposed to run tomorrow.  It pains me to leave money on the table.  It frustrates me to not finish what I started.  I feel shame for not following through on a commitment I made to my training partner and to myself.  But today, I choose to be prudent.

The last race I fully trained for was the 2017 Eugene Marathon.  In spite of a fast finish time, that race destroyed me physically and mentally.  I recovered physically enough to race two relays a few months later, but by the fall of 2017 my body told me in no uncertain terms that it needed a break.

Painful tendonitis in my knee plagued me for the next nine months.  My run streak stayed in tact, but my weekly mileage went from 40+ fast miles to 20 slow, painful ones.  My run streak hit 1,000 days on April 4, 2018.  I contemplated breaking my streak the next day, but I couldn't do it. I'm too invested in my streak to not run if I'm capable.  God knew I would need it.

Five weeks later, one of our closest friends passed away unexpectedly and in the week that followed, suffering upon suffering besieged three more families we are close to.  The grief was suffocating.  Eight long months have passed, and there are moments of grief that still take my breath away.

In those eight months I have run four races, none of which I was properly prepared for.  Predictably they were slower finish times, but faster than I should have been able to run given my lack of training.  My streak is intact and just passed 1,300 days.  It has been a vehicle God has consistently used in my life to grieve, process, brainstorm, find encouragement and build friendship.  I AM SO GRATEFUL!

But I can't seem to find my running mojo. I have gained some weight. Lost a ton of speed.  Put races tentatively on my calendar then scratched them when I didn't have the energy or time to start hard workouts again. It's not my favorite place to be.

Dawn, my training partner and one of my best friends, felt the same way. In early December 2018, we picked the Roaring Run half marathon and registered so we wouldn't back out. Our hope was that a few weeks of training would put us back in the groove and our finish time would give us a gauge for our current fitness level. This was Phase One of our Get Back in Shape plan.  Phase Two is a late spring half marathon, one we can be fully trained to actually race.

I did get back to the track a few times, banged out some tempo runs, and eked out some double digit long runs. It felt good to conquer hard workouts again and I was really looking forward to the race tomorrow.

But then I got The Newberg Plague of 2019.  It was the first time in years that I have been legitimately sick with fever and body aches and All The Things.  "One continuous mile" on sick days feels just as difficult as 20 miles on a healthy day.  I'm so happy my streak is still alive!   Dawn got her own version of The Plague a few days after I did.  Neither of us are close to full energy again.

Could we run tomorrow?  Yes.  But it would be slow, not fun, and the following exhaustion would wipe us out for a couple of days.  Our Phase One goal was to break out of our funk and start doing some hard workouts again.  We did that.  We won't have a race time tomorrow, but that's okay. It's just not worth it.

The book of Proverbs in the Bible talks a lot about wisdom, understanding and prudence, likening them to rare treasures to be sought after. In this scenario, it seems the PRUDENT thing is to fix our eyes on the future (Phase 2) and take this weekend to keep resting and recovering.  So that's what we're going to do.

I changed my Facebook profile photo to a race picture when I felt strong, fast and confident. I'm hoping it will be the reminder I need to combine newfound prudence with ambition.

What about you?  What areas of your life would benefit from some prudence?  What areas of your life need some ambition?  Let's get after it together.

Running through life together...

Jodi