When every day is better than the day before

Why can't it be this way for everyone?

Sometimes I feel guilty for being so blessed. Then I realize why I feel so blessed . . . It's because I've been through enough rough times to be able to recognize the good times.

Last night, I had a great evening watching the Celtics play the Lakers. I wasn't happy with the end of the game, but I had a wonderful time watching. After the game, I sat and visited with other Celtics fans while I switched from beer to water because I still had to drive home. When I pulled in to my apartment complex, there were police cars, an ambulance, and taped off areas. I didn't know what had happened until this afternoon.

There had been a domestic violence incident, and one person didn't survive. I learned this from a letter posted on my door when I arrived home after work. Driving home, I felt happy and carefree--looking forward to a glass of wine with a friend. The letter on my door reminded me of reality--a reality that is more common than most people realize. And before you blame it on the area in which I live, google El Dorado Hills, CA. This is a nice area--even for apartment dwellers. Domestic violence doesn't discriminate--it is equal opportunity all the way.

Please, if you notice something isn't right with a couple or family, say something . . . do something. Don't look the other way. You may save someone's life.

And . . . be good to the people you love.

How is a raven like a writing desk?

A few weeks ago, I decided to get a deep tissue massage--an 80 minute deep tissue massage. It was wonderful, and painful. Very painful. But I relaxed and let the massage therapist dig deeper, getting the knots out and loosening tight muscles. The tight muscles hurt the worst while the pain of breaking up a knot actually felt good. Very good, in fact. 

The pain I felt during the massage made me think of the pain I feel when I run . . . Yes, I feel pain when I run, and it isn't pain from injury. I feel great after running, but there is a difference. It's much harder for me to work through the pain of running than the pain from a massage, even though the result is positive from both. Why is this? I've been told it's psychological. 

I want to love running, but I'm not quite there yet. And my comparison of the pain from a massage with the pain from running? Well, it's like asking how a raven is like a writing desk . . .

I want to be a better, faster, more efficient runner, and I want to love running.  If you are a runner, what is your secret?

Ups, downs, and crazy busy

No, I'm not referring to hills . . . although there are lots of hills where I live, and it's hard to run without running up one of them, but I digress.

Training has it's ups and downs. I initially felt like I was making a lot of progress, but the past two weeks have been a little "meh." I have these expectations that every time I run, I'll run farther and faster than the time before, but it really isn't like that. There are so many variables that affect training. It's getting warmer, and some days are more humid than others. Evening runs are hard to do after working all day (actually, it's hard to leave work to go for a run when I have a major deadline approaching!). Also, I've had some of my own health struggles lately.

However, I am out there running . . . even when I don't feel like it (I recently ran a 5k, and I changed some of the evening runs to morning runs to avoid the heat). I just remind myself why I'm doing this and that makes all the difference.

"We're gonna kick some cancer butt!"

"We're gonna kick some cancer butt!" Becky Post, our team organizer, made this proclamation a couple of weeks ago, and I think it really exemplifies the tone of the team every time we train together.

Yesterday, the team ran together at William Land Park (behind the Sacramento Zoo). We train together twice each week, and follow a training schedule when we are on our own.

As you can see, it was a beautiful morning. We met at 7:30 am--Here I'm standing with my mentor, Julie.

I love training with the team because there is such a positive energy--everyone is here for a purpose.

We have three coaches, Sherri, Tony, and Rich (Sherri and Tony are in the picture to the right). Sherri is the walking coach, Tony and Rich are the running coaches. A couple weeks ago, they provided clinics for us before and after our workout--it's great to have that kind of support.

Yesterday, Rich stressed the importance of taking it slow in the beginning. Tony continually reminds us to focus on form now--you have to go slower now to go faster later. Right now, I'm totally focusing on form when I run.

Today . . . well today I'm going to focus on work (yes, on a Sunday) so I can spend next weekend in San Diego drilling with my new unit (looking forward to meeting everyone!).

Check back for more updates, and please share stories and pictures of your own if you have them.

Traci Hamilton - Raising funds with Team in Training for LLS

Follow me: what makes a good leader?

"You must have an honest understanding of who you are, what you know, and what you can do. Also, note that it is the followers, not the leader or someone else who determines if the leader is successful. If they do not trust or lack confidence in their leader, then they will be uninspired. To be successful you have to convince your followers, not yourself or your superiors, that you are worthy of being followed." Concepts of Leadership

A successful leader is determined by the people following. That being said, who do people want to follow? In the Army, if you can't run, people don't want to follow. To some, that may not make sense. After all, becoming a successful runner requires discipline and good physical condition, but it doesn't require other characteristics normally associated with leadership (ethics and integrity, for example). Some people are naturally good runners and don't necessarily have discipline. But that doesn't negate the fact that being a good runner is a requirement to being an effective leader in the Army. An NCO at Ft. Benning told me that it doesn't matter how many sit-ups and push-ups I can do, it's the run that matters--a good leader is also a good runner. And logical or not, if the follower determines the success of the leader, a good leader should make every effort to be a good runner.

Leadership is influencing people—by providing purpose, direction, and motivation—while operating to accomplish the mission and improving the organization. FM 22-100

Clearly, leadership involves more than running, but running affects motivation and cannot be ignored. I'm not a naturally good runner. I had to work hard just to pass the running portion of the APFT. However, if being a good runner is necessary to being an effective leader, I'll do whatever it takes to become one.

What do you think?

A reason to write

I love to write. I do. And I've been wanting to get back into it. However, I don't really want to post all of my many opinions on the internet for anyone to read. So though I've had much to say lately (just ask my friends and family), I've been trying to weed through what I want to post here (in case someone chooses to read my blog!).

Upcoming topics:

Running for a cure. I recently registered for the 2010 Nike Women's Marathon in San Francisco. I'm training with Team in Training to raise funds for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Although I've always been active, I've never been much of a runner. I can pass my APFT (Army Physical Fitness Test), but that is just two miles, and the time for my age group is generous. A marathon is 26.2 miles . . . So far, I'm enjoying the training and am learning to like running (one of my goals). Over the next few months, I will be blogging about my progress and about where the money goes and the people it helps. You can help me by donating via my fund raising website.

I'll continue to add topics as I read other blogs and items in the news, and I'm open to ideas! I want to use this space to work on my writing skills (I'd like to start submitting to blog carnivals again!), but I also want it to be a place for brainstorming and collaboration as well.

If you have a blog or website, email me a link and I will add you to my blog roll.

On blogging . . .

I've decided to start blogging again, but I haven't started blogging yet. What, you aren't happy with that? Check back . . . soon. I'll have something to say--you know I will.

Thankful . . .

I wrote this on Thanksgiving 2005, but I felt it was worthy of a "re-post."

I am thankful for so many things--I could write a book! Today I will write about one thing for which I am thankful--life itself.

I always took life for granted. After all, I couldn't really imagine not living. "To be, or not to be," wasn't my question. That being said, I wasn't really worried [in 2003] when I was scheduled for a hysterectomy. Of course it was major surgery, and I knew the risks. But people have surgery every day, and this is a fairly common surgery. Who would have guessed my surgeon would nick my uterine artery?

I remember waking up in the recovery room and having my nurse ask some simple questions. She told me that I would be transported to my room shortly. Then I started feeling faint--my blood pressure was dropping rapidly. At this point I still wasn't truly worried. My doctor checked to see what was wrong and explained that I was bleeding internally. He wanted to see if the blood would clot and the bleeding would stop. When this didn't immediately happen, he talked to me about having a blood transfusion. I had checked the box indicating "only in life threatening emergency" in the paperwork I completed before the surgery. He made me sign a new form before giving me blood. After the first unit of blood, I still wasn't worried. As time wore on, and they continued giving me blood, I wondered if I would live. My doctor continued to check on me, but he would say "I still think it may clot--I'm going to catch a baby, then I'll be back to check on you." To this day, the words "I'm going to catch a baby" echo in my mind when I think back on the recovery room.

As they continued to give me blood, and I continued to bleed internally, my abdomen distended and my skin felt like it was going to tear. As this occurred, it became increasingly harder for me to breathe. My nurse brought me the phone and said, "we want you to talk to your children." My children were in the waiting area with their nanny and my family. I don't remember what I said, or what they said, but by this time I was convinced that I was going to die, and I think I would have. Instead of giving up, I started praying. I don't remember everything that I said to God, but I do remember telling him that I wasn't ready to die and that my children needed me here. God answered my prayers.

Finally, I couldn't feel my feet and I could barely breathe. I was able to tell the nurse and things moved quickly as they paged my doctor and rushed me back to surgery. I had been in the recovery room for about eight hours by this time.

I spent that night in the ICU under a bair hugger. I was told that I received a total of 6 units of blood. I received so many flowers, I almost thought I had died! My coworkers donated enough sick time that I could have taken up to four months of paid time off. The typical recovery time for a hysterectomy is one month. With my complications, I was told to expect a longer recovery period. I was back to work in three weeks.

I am thankful for this brief glimpse with death because it made me realize just how precious my own life is, and just how many things, people, and circumstances for which I am truly thankful.

Life is an incredible blessing; for this I am thankful.

Panhandling: if beggars can't be choosers, why are they so picky?

I've noticed that there are many panhandlers in my new city . . . I drive past them every day. There are two who seem to take shifts near Target, and they hold their signs claiming embarrassment and God's blessings to me as I drive by. What do I do? I drive past them, wondering what their situations truly are. What do you do? Do you slow down and hand them money? Do you offer them jobs? Do you give them food? [Photo credit]

Some people think I am cold and lacking in compassion for my attitude toward these folks. But I didn't always respond in this way, and I am compassionate. But I refuse to be an enabler. Years ago, I would go home and make sandwiches to take back to people wanting to work for food, etc. I did that until I drove by and saw the food that I and others had brought left on the corner where a beggar sat earlier in the day. This man clearly didn't want our food . . . Which makes me strongly doubt that any money given to this man had been spent on food. Perhaps I'm wrong--maybe he was just a picky beggar. Maybe he was hoping to make enough to eat at Stanley and Seaforts that day. Yeah, I guess my attitude has grown a little jaded . . .

Then there was the time I drove past a panhandler on the way to an appointment with my doctor. This beggar was on the freeway exit by Fort Lewis in Tacoma. His sign read "Help a veteran - will work for food." At the time, I was the office manager at a large church, and I had many contacts and resources that I could offer this man. I had to get to my appointment, but I stopped and gave the man my business card. I told him that I could aid him in finding employment--I offered to help him. The man was gone when I drove by after my appointment, and I never heard from him. I guess he didn't really want to work for food. Maybe I'm wrong, but I seriously doubt that the man was a veteran.

Look, I want to help these people, but handing them money as I drive by isn't a good solution. It doesn't even qualify as "feeding a man for a day" instead of "teaching him to fish." And yes, I do realize that there are many homeless folks out there with mental illnesses, etc, who cannot work and do not have resources. But I highly doubt that these are the folks holding signs on the street corners asking for my money. Seriously. If a person has a serious mental illness and isn't taking his/her meds, I can't see them having the resources for panhandling . . . (BTW, in Washington State, people with serious mental illnesses cannot be forced to take their meds, and there is a serious problem with with folks suffering from mental illnesses living on the streets, but I digress). Again, perhaps I am wrong, and if I am, I still don't think my donations will solve such a huge problem.

So what else can I, or we, do to help? I don't really know . . . My ex-husband and I once took a homeless man out to breakfast in Salt Lake City, but that was merely feeding a man for a day. And that isn't something I would do now as a single mother. Call me heartless, but it's a safety issue.

Jamal Thalji of the St. Pertersburg Times wrote about panhandling in Tampa Bay last January:

"I never used the 'work' or 'homeless' signs," [Jim Tolbert] says.

He first panhandled with the beer sign at this very corner 18 months ago. He saw one like it years ago, hitchhiking through Montana.

His best haul: $120 in four hours. He's gotten 12-packs, wine, champagne and - he swears - Xanax. Read more . . .

[Photo credit]

Personally, I am in favor of panhandling laws.

Related:

Editorial (October 3, 2007): Panhandling ordinance, A law targeting charitable motorists seems extreme

What do you think?

Body Worlds 3: fascinating yet disturbing

This weekend, my daughter and I visited the Body Worlds 3 exhibit and were equally fascinated and disturbed. I have wanted to view this exhibit ever since reading about it at the now extinct blog, The Examining Room of Dr. Charles.

Many people have viewed this exhibit for varying reasons. I have long been intrigued by the human body, especially the nervous system, and once considered attending medical school. I actually spent one year as a post-baccalaureate pre-med student before realizing that I'm just too damn old for that bumpy road and earned my MBA instead. I am also a fan of medblogs and live vicariously through the folks who author them. So, when Dr. Charles wrote about the exhibit, I knew I had to eventually see it . . .

I have to admit, the exhibit itself was a bit overwhelming for a non-medical type like me. My daughter and I examined everything and read all of the information available, but it was a lot to absorb. One could easily walk through and view all of the bodies and body parts as one would works of art--and isn't the human body truly the most amazing work of art in existence? Yet there was something just a little nauseating about the whole experience. A part of me felt like I was intruding . . . And the crowd flowing through the exhibit, peering at all the anatomical details with me, seemed extremely irreverent. As a Catholic, I couldn't help but wonder what the official Catholic stand is regarding the process of Plastination.

The answer, I found, is complex. When the Body Worlds 3 exhibit was in Phoenix in February 2007, Mike Phelan wrote about it in the Catholic Sun article titled, Death, the Body, and 'Body Worlds 3.'

Phelan neither condemns nor applauds the exhibit, but cautions Catholics that the body is sacred and is to be treated as such. He explains that "burial is the normal requirement" when a Catholic dies, but that we are permitted to donate organs after death. He points out that viewing the exhibit brings a person face to face with the eventuality of death, and notes that surrounding the exhibit are quotes from various sources throughout the ages and from different perspectives ranging from Christian to Atheist. I have to admit that I found all of the different quotes almost as fascinating as the posed bodies . . .

But the question that I couldn't keep from my mind was "would I want to be displayed like this after death?" Abso-friggin'-lutely not. And "would I want to see my parents displayed like this?" Oh, hell no. My children? You have got to be kidding . . . And all of these people on display were someone's parents, kids, etc. It haunts me still. Beautiful? Definitely. Disturbing? Oh come on--do I really need to answer that?

Before writing this, I tried to find the blog entry written by Dr. Charles that so invoked my curiosity. While his blog is no longer available, I did find an entry by Kim McAllister at Emergiblog titled "Body Worlds 3: Fearfully and Wonderfully Made!" Kim's review of the same exhibit (at the same location) was exactly what I needed to read. She helped me to set aside my own reservations and initial repulsion to the exhibit and to see it through her eyes--the eyes of a nurse who studied the human body in a much less reverent fashion:

My experience with anatomy and physiology was one class, thirty-one years ago, with one gray, formaldehyde soaked elderly cadaver. My eyes burned from the fumes. I barely touched it. It was gross, ugly and, well…blech!

Touché, Kim. I'm glad I read Kim's post--I now have a better appreciation for the exhibit I viewed this weekend. Perhaps I should go back . . .

Update (10/21/2007): Someone found this entry by googling "why can't Catholics visit Body Worlds." I'm a devout Catholic, and I visited the exhibit and wrote about it. Apparently the Catholic Church in St. Louis is advising schools not to visit the exhibit:

In St. Louis the Catholic Church has advised school officials not to take children on trips to the exhibit. Read more . . .

Wow. All I can say is, God gave us free will, and I didn't feel the need to go to confession after viewing the exhibit.

[Photo credit]

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