...And a 10K Rocks!!! (Guest Blogger Nikki G)

These are the reflections of Nicole, my friend and partner in racing crime from the weekend!

On last Saturday, I competed in the Boardwalk Relay for Hunger in Asbury Park, NJ. I placed 11 out of 32 women in the 10K individual. My time was 58:15. This is the race that prompted the 12 wk training program that I've logged on FB. This all started because of my friend Donna, who asked me to participate in the race with her. I gladly said yes as we competed in a 5k together 4 years ago. Ironically, we haven't run together since. It just so happens that we actually didn't run together for this race either because she's had 3 wonderful events take place in her life in a matter of 2.5 months, which led to us having different training schedules.

Needless to say, it was a warm 80 degrees in Asbury Park on Saturday. This was a beautiful race on the boardwalk right next to the beach. Since it was 8:30am, there was nobody out there. Just the waves, the sand, and the sun for me to look at for little less than an hour. Thanks so much for the love and support during the past 12 weeks.

I might be running a half marathon this Sunday that starts in New Rochelle @9am. After that, I have no idea when I'll be racing again, but of course I will keep you posted.

5K beats Zero K...

On Friday night, as hubby and I made our way from my pastor's 30th anniversary banquet just shy of midnight, I remember thinking, "Jesus, I'm going to need you to wake me up in the morning because there is no way I am waking up, let alone running. No way."Just in case Jesus didn't come through, I was preparing the excuses in my mind. I was going to be a flake. Again.

A few months ago my girlfriend Nicole and agreed to train for and run a 10k together. She took of running leaving me in the dust. After the wedding and ordination it was tough to gather the strength to even get out to walk. Just shortly after signing up for the Boardwalk Race Against Hunger in Asbury Park, NJ (close to my neck of the woods), I backed out. I was going to try to run it. It probably would have killed me. (dramatic, I know) My hubby looked at me one morning as I made excuses as to why I wasn't going walking and asked, "Are you going to be ready for your race?" "Yes," I replied confidently. He saw through my feigned confidence and asked me again, Are you going to be ready for your race?" "No," crawled from my lips as the tears rolled down my cheeks. I felt like a failure. Not only did I feel like a failure, I also felt like I was going to be disappointing Nicole. Again. So, I took the punk road and instead of calling her, I emailed her to let her know that I wasn't physically ready for the race but that I'd be there to support her. She was disappointed, yes. But she was also graceful and understanding...

Somewhere between backing out completely and race day, I decided to run the 5k instead. I figured 5K beats zero K any day. I emailed the race organizer and signed up for the race that would challenge me, but wouldn't leave me for dead.

Back to race day. I woke up that morning at 5:45am ready to go. Jesus came through as always! We showered, got dressed, ate, and made our way one hour to the race site. It was a beautiful (and hot) day. There were loads of runners. They were serious runners. We felt like amateurs in their presence, but we were prepared to do what we came to do. Nicole did her thing! She placed 11th in the female 10K runners group. I, on the other hand, ran. I did not run fast, but I finished the race (sort of, there was a blip in the turn around point so I was a bit shy of the 5K). And in the end, I felt strong, I felt beautiful, and I felt empowered! It was my first race in over 3 years.
I cannot tell whether or not I'll run another race this season or if I'll wait until Spring (my time) to train and run again. What I can say is that I am grateful to God, my body, and my friend for making sure I got through this one...

You Gotta Be In It To Win It...

I just registered for my first 10K race. I must admit, though I am not yet in tip-top shape, I feel good about it. There is nothing like a deadline to motivate you. So, on Saturday, September 25th I will run my first 10k race. Woo Hoo!

The race is benefitting the Monmouth County Foodbank. If you want to donate to the cause, and support me in the endeavor, please visit https://www.raceit.com/register/donate.aspx?event=1229&id=r471745&name=Donna+Olivia+Owusu-Ansah to donate.

I Ran Anyway...

I woke at 5:58am today. The sun peeked into my window and beckoned me to get up.

"But I'm tired," I said.

And then I remembered the magazine clipping that sits on my desk: "If you think you'll have enough time to run tomorrow, remember you said that yesterday."

So I got up and put on my running gear. Have I mentioned that I am training for my first 10k (and that it has been over 3 years since I entered my last race)?

Out the door I went. About three deer and seven minutes into the run I realized that my Nike+ Sportsband was not on. Seven whole minutes. That's like an eternity to a tracker like me.

Anyway, I fire up my sports band (it's not that serious really, I just pressed the button) and walked another .15 miles before I started to run. My training program had me scheduled for a 5 mile run today. Truth be told, part of me didn't want to get out of bed and it wasn't because I was tired. Although I am training for a 10K, the thought of running 5 or 6 or more miles frightens me.

I ran anyway. I ran down Woodland Avenue to to mouth of the Giralda Farms loop. I kept going down Woodland towards Treadwell Avenue. No sweat, I thought to myself (ok,maybe I was sweating, but the run wasn't so bad). As I approached Treadwell it dawned on me that in order to get close to my 5 miles that I would have to race the hill that I've only conquered once.

I ran anyway. The hill, really two hills on one road, tried to take me out. As I made my way up the first hill my mind and heart were belting out a chorus of "Please Jesus" that was so loud it drowned out Soul II Soul playing on my iPod. On the second hill I wanted to quit. I wanted to quit several times, but I ran anyway. And, thanks be to God, there was an angel at the top of that hill who encouraged me to keep on going.

As I reached the top, a salt-and-pepper haired—rather handsome—white gentleman was running towards me. The racism and classism in Madison makes the "runner's hello" unpredictable at times.** I smile and speak anyway.

"Good Morning," I said as I threw up my hand to wave.

"Good Morning, nice work up that hill!" he replied.

"Thank you," I gushed. (Which he couldn't see because he was dusting me at that point.)

Nice work up that hill! Yes, it was nice work, wasn't it. His encouragement was just what I needed to keep me going. So I kept running and running and running. Five—one, two, three, four, five—miles later I was at my front door and I had never stopped running!

I ran anyway...and I felt great! I felt strong! I feel like these thighs that I demonized for years are doing things I never imagined that could do. I feel like I will be able to run my 10k with ease. Heck, maybe I'll train for a half marathon after the 10K. Race or no race, I'm going to run anyway...

**I meant to post this days ago but I was so caught up with getting stuff done for school. On my Saturday run, I saw a sistah (code word: Black Woman) running on the loop. Approaching most white women and some white men is always awkward because not everyone is either happy to see me or socially inept enough to smile and say hello. Well, this sistah and I gave each other a virtual hug as we passed each other the first time. It was like a family reunion. I knew what I was thinking...a Black woman in Madison (rare in and of itself)...running (Praise God!). She was doing it, too! She made me proud and inspired me to push harder. On the second passing I lifted my earbuds from my ear and said, "You don't know how glad I am to see you out running!"

"Me, too girl. Me, too!" she replied as she chuckled. Black Girls Run, you know. We really do!

image 2 is from April 2007, my last race before starting Seminary

image 1 is a screenshot from the Nike+ website showing this morning's run

I Don't Feel No Ways Tired...

There is a hymn that I love, by Rev. James Cleveland, called "I Don't Feel No Ways Tired." Well, when I was in the middle of my run today—six-5 minute runs with 1 minute rest in between each—this song echoed in my heart. I mean, I'm not an athletic girl and 18 days ago when I set out on this "3 Weeks to a 20 minute running habit" program designed by Christina Luff on About.com, I was huffing and puffing my way through 1 minute runs. Today, I ran with ease. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't sprinting...I'm no Jackie Joyner Kearsee, but I also wasn't out of breath or watching the clock. In fact, today, running was like breathing—second nature. I'm so glad to be able to sing, "I don't feel no ways tired. Come to far from where I've started from. Nobody told me the road would be easy, but I don't believe He's brought me this far to leave me." Selah.

A Blessing in the Press?

For the past couple of days I have been suffering from a major case of the Idon'tfeellikeits. Major. Anyway, for the most part, I have managed to do most of what needed to be done, giving myself permission to skip work, cancel my hair appointment, and reschedule a few meetings. What helped yesterday was that it was a day off from my running program (and an unexpected visit from a friend with whom I had a girlie day in the Short Hills Mall). So, whether I felt like it or not, I didn't have to go to the gym yesterday.

Today, however, was a different story. I managed to make it through the day alright--alert in class, semi-alert in chapel, attentive to my readings, and engaged in theological discourse with Rev. Dr. Gary Simpson about Black church culture and the high devilology (I made that word up, but essentially it refers to a doctrine of the devil) that has been racking my soul these days. I even managed to be alert and participate in my preaching class. But, if I can be honest, the Idon'tfeellikeits began rising up halfway through preaching class. From about 5:30 to 7:00pm I was scheming, trying to figure out how I could rearrange my schedule so I wouldn't have to run tonight. After some encouragement from my classmates and the realization that it would be nearly impossible given my busy weekend (without another running day off until Monday), I decided to go to the gym. But friends, I purposed in my heart not to enjoy it.

An hour later, I was feeling much better. It wasn't my fastest run, nor did I have my best form, but I was there. I was there! The Idon'tfeellikeits did not get the best of me! I was there! I completed my second week of training toward establishing a 30 minute running habit. I was there! As we say in church, I pressed my way. And friends, though I may not know yet what it is, I am sure that there was and is a blessing in the press.

Sweet Tooth...

So, today I've had a sweet tooth...ALL DAY! Early this morning, one of my roommates politely offered me a Ferrero Rocher Candy. You know, the heavenly mix of chocolate and hazelnut, creamy and crisp, yeah that Ferrero Rocher. Well, at 8:30am, I said no, but the three candies that sat on the dining room table taunted me all day. As I read through pages upon pages of material about domestic violence, coercive control, militarized border rape, and feminicide the candies teased me. I kept looking over hoping they'd be gone, but since I was the only one in the house and I didn't eat them, well, they were still there.

Instead of lunch, I had 400 calories worth of cookies--some all natural treats I got from Whole Foods yesterday. Needless to say, they somewhat satisfied my sweet tooth, but left me hungry. (Four hundred calories of cookies is no way to get full.) But, since I'm watching my girlish figure, I waited until dinner time to eat again. My homemade chicken noodle soup hit the spot. Shortly after dinner I headed out to the radio station for my first HoneyComb Hideout of the 2010 season. Well, when I returned, the Rochers were still there and my sweet tooth had returned with a vengeance. I hear you asking, "What did you do?" I wish I could say I fled from the temptation. Actually, no I don't. I got a napkin, loaded it up with some cookies (chocolate chip and peanut butter creme) and savored every bite. You know what, I'm satisfied. And I'm ready to run extra hard tomorrow.

All this is to say that as much as watching my girlish figure is important to me, I know that being happy and enjoying food is also important to me. So, every once in a while, I will let my sweet tooth have its way and I will enjoy every minute of it (and every minute of running it off). There's that balance thing again...

Perfectly Coifed Hair? Healthy Body?

...how about both? For years I put my hair above my health...trying to adapt my workout schedule around hairdos. Well, no more! Some might think this a frivolous post, but truth is there are lots of things that perfectly coifed hair hinders Black women from doing--working out, swimming, and sometimes (so I've heard) having sex. Black women are also disproportionately suffering from disease—hypertension, heart disease, high cholesterol, breast cancer, stress, depression, etc., etc.—most of which could be abated with regular exercise. So, hair I go...

Thanks and praise be to God, I found a way to work out my body (hard) and have not-so-perfectly coifed hair (that still looks great). The secret is a good cut. Many people associate long hair with beauty. Thankfully, I have never been that woman. I associate healthy hair with beauty. So, whether it is long or short, relaxed or natural, etc., etc., as long as it is healthy and it makes you look and feel good, then I think it is beautiful!

Admittedly, the most hair ease I felt when working out was when my hair was locked and when I used to wear it short and natural. I would be in the gym and on the track getting it in. When I relaxed my hair, my gym routine suffered. For a while, when I started running three years ago, I became the ponytail woman. For one, ponytails, especially when working out, put unnecessary tension on the hair. Secondly, and more important to me, ponytails—daily ponytails—are boooooring. And, well, I am far from boring (especially as it concerns my appearance).

When I entered Seminary I felt the pounds packing on, so I braided it up and hit the gym. Well, the reality of homework set in and my routine got jacked up. Fast forward 2 years and 40 pounds later... I made a commitment to my health, whether my hair liked it or not (btw, I'm 20 pounds lighter than I was in September). I also wanted to maintain my relaxed style, not because I have a hang-up about straight hair and beauty, but because right now I'm feeling it. In early October I went to a new stylist on a friends recommendation. This stylist is known for her wisdom, her insistence on healthy hair, and her skills with a pair of scissors. I told her I wanted my hair to be able to work while I work out. Away she went. What emerged was a cut that looks good when I do nothing to it, looks better when I do something to it, and still manages to look great when I work out.

When my workout consisted of walking only, I would wrap my hair at night, comb it down in the morning, pop on a headband, and hit the pavement. When I returned home I would let it air dry as I got ready for the day and roll out. These days, I've taken to pin curling it. Talk about a gift from God; Five days and three intense workouts after getting my hair done I have yet to use a curling iron or any other "tool of destruction" (a term my friend Shanee Yvette coined).

Here are some pics...before (aka when the hair was perfect), pin curled (my style of choice during a run), and after (letting the pin curl loose):

(Before before...aka after leaving the salon...Tuesday)

(Before...pin curled and ready to hit the pavement...Saturday)

(After...Post working out, air drying, and taking the curls out...Saturday, again)

(After after...wrapped overnight, ready to go to praise God...Sunday)

Victory! Victory! Victory!

I had two, no three, revelations while I was out for my walk/run today. It is amazing what you hear when you take the headphones off and listen to your own breath, your feet hitting the pavement, the whir and sometimes roar of cars passing by, and the squawking encouragment from birds along the way. In the midst of those sounds and other really random thoughts, here are the thoughts that penetrated my soul:

1)I am VICTORIOUS in Christ! I had a moment when I was stuck jogging in place at a traffic light. I looked at my hands and noticed the Nike gloves. I looked at my feet and noticed the Nike sneakers. I quickly glanced at myself up and down: Nike watch, Nike jacket, Nike cell phone arm pouch, Nike water bottle. At first I chalked it up to being a label whore. But then I realized it was bigger than that. Nike is one of the Greek words for victory, conquest, triumph. (Somebody shout glory!!!) In that moment I realized that more than the gear that I was donned in, I was clothed in victory that come from being a child of God! I, like Paul, am ready to declare, "But thanks be to God, which giveth us the VICTORY through our Lord Jesus Christ" (1 Co 15:57).

2)Along the lines of giving thanks, it was revealed to me that to truly "thank God for the movement and activity of my limbs" (classic African-American testimony and prayer language) that I should actually move my limbs and be active. It is not enough to say "Thank-You," but we as believers should live our thank you! I'm not saying everybody needs to be out running, but everybody who has the movement of their body should be moving it to God's glory! It is not enough to be spiritual folk and intellectual folk, but we must recognize and give God glory because we are embodied spirits and embodied minds. To ignore and to mistreat our bodies is the same as dishonoring God.

3)Lastly, as I walked and ran in the 35 degree weather, I realized that it is not the cold of winter that makes me "blue" but rather the dark of winter. To rid myself of the winter blues all I need to do is take full advantage of the sunlight. As long as I have time in the sun, I'm good. Not profound, but a truth that makes me know that maybe Chicago is a place that I could settle for a while.

Inspiration...

inspiration |ˌinspəˈrā sh ən|noun1 the process of being mentally stimulated to do or feel something, esp. to do something creative : Helen had one of her flashes of inspiration | the history of fashion has provided designers with invaluable inspiration.• the quality of having been so stimulated, esp. when evident in something : a rare moment of inspiration in an otherwise dull display.• a person or thing that stimulates in this way : he is an inspiration to everyone.• a sudden brilliant, creative, or timely idea : then I had an inspiration.• the divine influence believed to have led to the writing of the Bible.2 the drawing in of breath; inhalation.• an act of breathing in; an inhalation.ORIGIN Middle English (in the sense[divine guidance] ): viaOld French from late Latin inspiratio(n-), from the verbinspirare (see inspire ).

Here's what is inspiring me these days...

My Mini on Nike+

She motivates/guilts me into running. She'll be much happier come January 1st when I have my new Nike+ kicks and wristband to upload my workout information to the site. My goal is to get my self in shape to run a 5K by my 34th (gasp) birthday. It's been 3 years since I've entered and run a race, but I know I can do it! I'll keep you posted...

My Kindergarten Graduation Photo

That's me in the center cheesing! With 142 days until I graduate with a Master of Divinity degree from the Theological School at Drew University, I need some inspiration. Plus, I have a full final semester (Church History 2, Advanced Preaching, Ethically Responding to Violence Against Women, African-American, African, and Caribbean Biblical Interpretations) and I need to remember that if I did it before, I can do it again.

Generativity

The situation, or set of circumstances that allows for physical, spiritual, emotional, creative, and academic reproduction. It involves wholly giving of oneself as a vessel for the nourishment of a human being, dreams, and ideas, who bears resemblance to you. The process involves more than production, but rather it is reproductive, the creation of some form of life that may look, sound, act, or think like you in some way. It involves transformation, both for that which is being nurtured and the one carrying. It is exciting, scary, challenging, and beautiful to say the least. (excerpt from a paper I wrote in January 2008)

And Last, but Never Least...Love

Love never gives up. Love cares more for others than for self. Love doesn't want what it doesn't have. Love doesn't strut, Doesn't have a swelled head, doesn't force itself on others, isn't always "me first," Doesn't fly off the handle, doesn't keep score of the sins of others, doesn't revel when others grovel, takes pleasure in the flowering of truth, puts up with anything, trusts God always, always looks for the best, never looks back, but keeps going to the end. (1 Corinthians 13:4-8 MSG)