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Photos by Jim Vilsack
8.27.2011
8.26.2011
Climbing Mountains.
On August 15, 2011, I finished my MBA program at Wake Forest.
Exuberance. Excitement. Relief. Accomplishment. . . Achieved.
And yet, something felt off. I had spent the past Monday and Wednesday nights for two years, autumn-winter-spring-summer-autumn-winter-spring-summer, going to school. Weekends were filled with study group meetings, paper writing, article reading, case studying, competitions, etc. My classmates had become my family; we were in it together. And it was over; the last paper turned in, the last presentation made.
What. Do. I. Do. NOW?
The summer has been brutal. Some days, training could only occur at lunchtime or around 4pm in the afternoon. 100 degree days and humidity that makes one feel as gooey and sticky as a piece of gum flung onto the sidewalk left my tenacity and resolve being slowly being chipped away. Each day of diving in and out of whatever shade I could find and of losing six or seven pounds of sweat per run were the norm, the expected, the dreaded. Hydrating on the run, yes, but nothing could stop the feeling of the heat pounding down from above and the humidity rising up from the ground to encapsulate me in this incessant sauna. Headphones were no match for the rivers of sweat pouring over the headband and through the hat, ipods wrapped in saran wrap and stuffed in a homemade-work-badge-carrying-case only became enveloped in their own mini-saunas, and clothing soaked so heavily that it would be no different than jumping in and out of a hot tub created a fiery Fantasia-like sequence of sun, sweat, bugs, swirling all about me.
WHAT do I do now? Now, that school is over, now that August is showing signs of relief from the roasting?
I am running.
Each step feels delicate and I am gun shy from the failed workouts and runs having reduced me to walking home even when several miles away. And yet, slowly in the last week I feel the fire inside starting to be stoked again, the passion starting to rise up again, the focus narrowing, and my heart racing with excitement for the refreshment, the relaxation, the relief that is running.
Something different has happened though, a change. The past several years have given me some of the greatest blessings of my life and some of the greatest heartaches. Moments of leaping for joy and moments where I literally could not place one foot, one more time in front of the other. My knees know the immense joy in running to and accomplishing goals large and small and yet also the imprint of rock solid concrete from moments where I was simply brought to them. Running is heavily weighted towards the mind and the heart and my mind and heart are now in a much different place than in August of 2009, and even December 2006 when I initially set my running goals.
It's funny how things all seem to happen at once. A good friend and mentor of mine said that when it all hits, it causes us to think very broadly sometimes seeing and intuiting things we did not understand before. Sometimes the answer really isn't clear and decisions have to be made based on our heart's voice and our mind's reason and the facts that we do have for that time being.
So, why so serious? It's Friday after all! AND tomorrow is the Continental Divide Trail 10k where adventure abounds!
The point is that there have been very distinct moments where I had to make a decision to go with something that I really had no idea how it would turn out or whether it would be complete disaster. The goal I set in 2006 did not make a whole lot of sense to some. Yes, I ran in college. No, I was not an NCAA star and I never ran races longer than 3 or so miles. Some did not believe in it. Some laughed. The decision to get an MBA from Wake Forest without a traditional business background was a very expensive decision in very untested academic waters.
All along, there was small whisper just like the one that once said "keep running" that said "keep reaching, keep dreaming, believe." And so I did.
And there was a slow, steady transition in my mind and heart. Whether I reached the goals or found great successes was suddenly paling in comparison to what I was learning along the way. It was precisely the feeling I felt after I completed the Continental Divide Trail race last year. The following quote states it perfectly; "I've learned that everyone wants to live on top of the mountain, but all the happiness and growth occurs while you're climbing it.”
So whether life is moving a million miles an hour or the days feel like they are lasting a million hours, I really think it is all about the journey and what can be learned along the way through both the summits and the valleys to the end goal. And so, there is a deep gratitude that I now have simply for the journey.
Exuberance. Excitement. Relief. Accomplishment. . . Achieved.
And yet, something felt off. I had spent the past Monday and Wednesday nights for two years, autumn-winter-spring-summer-autumn-winter-spring-summer, going to school. Weekends were filled with study group meetings, paper writing, article reading, case studying, competitions, etc. My classmates had become my family; we were in it together. And it was over; the last paper turned in, the last presentation made.
What. Do. I. Do. NOW?
The summer has been brutal. Some days, training could only occur at lunchtime or around 4pm in the afternoon. 100 degree days and humidity that makes one feel as gooey and sticky as a piece of gum flung onto the sidewalk left my tenacity and resolve being slowly being chipped away. Each day of diving in and out of whatever shade I could find and of losing six or seven pounds of sweat per run were the norm, the expected, the dreaded. Hydrating on the run, yes, but nothing could stop the feeling of the heat pounding down from above and the humidity rising up from the ground to encapsulate me in this incessant sauna. Headphones were no match for the rivers of sweat pouring over the headband and through the hat, ipods wrapped in saran wrap and stuffed in a homemade-work-badge-carrying-case only became enveloped in their own mini-saunas, and clothing soaked so heavily that it would be no different than jumping in and out of a hot tub created a fiery Fantasia-like sequence of sun, sweat, bugs, swirling all about me.
WHAT do I do now? Now, that school is over, now that August is showing signs of relief from the roasting?
I am running.
Each step feels delicate and I am gun shy from the failed workouts and runs having reduced me to walking home even when several miles away. And yet, slowly in the last week I feel the fire inside starting to be stoked again, the passion starting to rise up again, the focus narrowing, and my heart racing with excitement for the refreshment, the relaxation, the relief that is running.
Something different has happened though, a change. The past several years have given me some of the greatest blessings of my life and some of the greatest heartaches. Moments of leaping for joy and moments where I literally could not place one foot, one more time in front of the other. My knees know the immense joy in running to and accomplishing goals large and small and yet also the imprint of rock solid concrete from moments where I was simply brought to them. Running is heavily weighted towards the mind and the heart and my mind and heart are now in a much different place than in August of 2009, and even December 2006 when I initially set my running goals.
It's funny how things all seem to happen at once. A good friend and mentor of mine said that when it all hits, it causes us to think very broadly sometimes seeing and intuiting things we did not understand before. Sometimes the answer really isn't clear and decisions have to be made based on our heart's voice and our mind's reason and the facts that we do have for that time being.
So, why so serious? It's Friday after all! AND tomorrow is the Continental Divide Trail 10k where adventure abounds!
The point is that there have been very distinct moments where I had to make a decision to go with something that I really had no idea how it would turn out or whether it would be complete disaster. The goal I set in 2006 did not make a whole lot of sense to some. Yes, I ran in college. No, I was not an NCAA star and I never ran races longer than 3 or so miles. Some did not believe in it. Some laughed. The decision to get an MBA from Wake Forest without a traditional business background was a very expensive decision in very untested academic waters.
All along, there was small whisper just like the one that once said "keep running" that said "keep reaching, keep dreaming, believe." And so I did.
And there was a slow, steady transition in my mind and heart. Whether I reached the goals or found great successes was suddenly paling in comparison to what I was learning along the way. It was precisely the feeling I felt after I completed the Continental Divide Trail race last year. The following quote states it perfectly; "I've learned that everyone wants to live on top of the mountain, but all the happiness and growth occurs while you're climbing it.”
8.16.2011
8.04.2011
Volun-what?
Fast-paced! Hectic! People...running ... around... everywhere!! Mind, racing!
You may think I am referring to competing in a race...Surprise!...No!
I am referring to what it is like to be on the other side, the 'dark' side as it was to me because I had never seen or experienced what it is like to volunteer at an event. I have now seen the light!
Beat the Heat and also the 2011 NC USATF 5k Championship: Fortunately, it stormed earlier on that July afternoon leaving clouds hanging above and a substantially cooler, less humid environment than every other day of the present summer. Initially, I arrived and looked around for the race director to find out where I needed to hang up the USATF banners. As the Women's Long Distance Chairperson, I was excited to be there to watch several talented athletes compete, hope to see a new course record set, and then assist in the awards ceremony afterwards.
Many of the volunteers that were there have been members of our track club for years and all seemed to fall into their respective places, they all were professionals. I, on the other hand, was slightly confused and just tried to be wherever I seemed to be needed. I was given a bright yellow "VOLUNTEER" shirt and then shortly after was handed a massive stack of cash to organize and protect --- Volunteering is AWESOME, I thought, I just got handed a ton of money just for standing here! ... Well the money was not for me, but still I felt honored to be the temporary treasurer of the race funds. When it came time for the race to start, my family and I walked over to the start to cheer on the athletes.
My legs, lungs, and heart felt a surge, a massive twinge, a questioning, "Hey! you! Why are we not out there!"
It was exciting to see the runners bouncing up and down, doing strides, and smiling with anxious nerves for the gun to go off. Although it was an abnormal sensation to not be out there, it was also refreshing and relaxing to stand back and see the race from a different perspective.
We hurried to the mile marker and then over to the finish to witness a new course record being set on the men's side; goosebumps raced down my arms. After the race, I headed to the timer's tent where I witnessed the 'magic' of recording times. A neatly organized system functioned with volunteers that seamlessly carried out their roles. I was completely enthralled as the hundreds of numbers came in and were entered into the computer. When the times were ready, I headed to the stage where the awards would be handed out. The crowd was energetic as eager faces waited to hear the names of the award winners. There was a distinct sense of urgency, a tense dance between the race directors, volunteers, and runners as the competitors anxiously waited for the names to be called out.
The sun had gone down at this point and just as quickly as all components of the race were set up, they were torn back down. What would be left, would be the same empty parking lot that had existed before the madness.
After quietly observing and having this opportunity to serve as a volunteer, I walked away from the 5k with a very deep gratitude for those who are involved in directing and volunteering at races. There's a sense of camaraderie and a 'get it done' attitude that struck me - like a different type of race going on inside the race with its own performance goals and rituals. It was an honor to be a part of this process and I look forward to helping again.
8.01.2011
A Recap
Recently, I was asked to recap my journey to the Olympic Trials for my company's quarterly newsletter and wanted to share here as well. . . .
C.S. Lewis said, “You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.”
It was December of 2006; I had graduated from Wake Forest University the May prior and had closed up my collegiate running career. I never really looked back, I just kept running.
Afternoons trudged into evenings, lights would rarely be cut on at the stadium track and I was left, still running, with the sun going down and the stars popping up all over the sky. I had no goal in mind, no clear target, but I did have unrelenting fire deep inside – that said, “keep running.” Late in December, one of the Wake Forest assistant coaches would run into my mother and question her; “Who is training Molly?” (I believe he was curious or fairly confounded as to what I was doing out there, day after day.)
My mom’s reply, “No one.”
David Duggan, “Well, I will coach her.”
And so it began. In January of 2007, I had a coach and after a goal-setting session, he believed I could qualify for the 2012 Olympic Marathon Trials, a 26.2 mile race. I decided it was a goal worth going after, but little did I know that distant goal would turn into one of the greatest journeys I’ve ever taken – and a dream to reach out for. Les Brown said, “Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss you will land among the stars.”
The journey has taken me to heights and lows both internally and externally, but one thing that has never left me is that small voice inside saying, “keep running.” From placing 8th in the USA in my first National Championship to barely being able to lift one leg in front of the other after a tachycardia scare at an Outer Banks race, to coming within eight seconds last March of qualifying for the Olympic Trials …and yet just missing by coming within eight seconds of the Olympic Trials, running has both humbled me and taught me absolutely priceless lessons; these range from never giving up to giving to others to just being simply grateful.
In order to qualify for the January 2012 Olympic Marathon Trials, the race where the top three competitors go to London to compete on the world stage, the women’s qualifying standard involves running a 2:39:00 for a fully funded trip to Houston, Texas where the Trials are or a 2:46:00 marathon that simply gets one into the Trials race. My coach and I decided that with my work and school schedule, that we would aim for the 2:46:00 standard which averages to 6:19 per mile pace. My current marathon time is 2:46:08; this is .31 seconds per mile that I need to take off of my time. The time window to qualify ends on December 14 and I will be attempting to hit the time again at the Wineglass Marathon in Corning, New York on October 2.
My training regime currently consists of 80-90 miles a week, with two-a-day runs, twice-a-week workouts, and a long run of up to 24 miles on the weekends. There is also weight work involved that includes high repetition of ab, leg, and arm exercises. In regards to my diet, let me be very honest: I am a choco-holic. I love Dewey’s cake squares and Krispy Kreme Chocolate Iced Doughnuts, but I also have to work hard to get the nutrients that I need. Staples for me include peanut butter and honey on bagels, bananas, chocolate milk for recovery, and daily vitamins. With the wealth of Wellness information that we have available at Allegacy, I have learned even more about the foods that I need – including those green things called vegetables.
Long distance running may not be for everyone, but I believe we are made to be out there whether we are walking, jogging, or running. Sometimes, all it takes is just taking the first step, finding a few minutes during the day or in the evening to slip on the running shoes and take off out the door – and this is how you start. It is one day at a time, one step at a time, and each time you simply try to go just a little bit farther. For starters, take a big, deep breath and then try to run for one minute and then walk for one minute and repeat. The next time, try to add one more minute, and repeat.
My mantra is by Robert Browning, “Ah, but a man’s reach should exceed his grasp – or what’s a heaven for?” When it comes to running or any venture we may be after, my only advice is – dare to dream, decide to go for it, believe, and don’t look back.
C.S. Lewis said, “You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.”
It was December of 2006; I had graduated from Wake Forest University the May prior and had closed up my collegiate running career. I never really looked back, I just kept running.
Afternoons trudged into evenings, lights would rarely be cut on at the stadium track and I was left, still running, with the sun going down and the stars popping up all over the sky. I had no goal in mind, no clear target, but I did have unrelenting fire deep inside – that said, “keep running.” Late in December, one of the Wake Forest assistant coaches would run into my mother and question her; “Who is training Molly?” (I believe he was curious or fairly confounded as to what I was doing out there, day after day.)
My mom’s reply, “No one.”
David Duggan, “Well, I will coach her.”
And so it began. In January of 2007, I had a coach and after a goal-setting session, he believed I could qualify for the 2012 Olympic Marathon Trials, a 26.2 mile race. I decided it was a goal worth going after, but little did I know that distant goal would turn into one of the greatest journeys I’ve ever taken – and a dream to reach out for. Les Brown said, “Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss you will land among the stars.”
The journey has taken me to heights and lows both internally and externally, but one thing that has never left me is that small voice inside saying, “keep running.” From placing 8th in the USA in my first National Championship to barely being able to lift one leg in front of the other after a tachycardia scare at an Outer Banks race, to coming within eight seconds last March of qualifying for the Olympic Trials …and yet just missing by coming within eight seconds of the Olympic Trials, running has both humbled me and taught me absolutely priceless lessons; these range from never giving up to giving to others to just being simply grateful.
In order to qualify for the January 2012 Olympic Marathon Trials, the race where the top three competitors go to London to compete on the world stage, the women’s qualifying standard involves running a 2:39:00 for a fully funded trip to Houston, Texas where the Trials are or a 2:46:00 marathon that simply gets one into the Trials race. My coach and I decided that with my work and school schedule, that we would aim for the 2:46:00 standard which averages to 6:19 per mile pace. My current marathon time is 2:46:08; this is .31 seconds per mile that I need to take off of my time. The time window to qualify ends on December 14 and I will be attempting to hit the time again at the Wineglass Marathon in Corning, New York on October 2.
My training regime currently consists of 80-90 miles a week, with two-a-day runs, twice-a-week workouts, and a long run of up to 24 miles on the weekends. There is also weight work involved that includes high repetition of ab, leg, and arm exercises. In regards to my diet, let me be very honest: I am a choco-holic. I love Dewey’s cake squares and Krispy Kreme Chocolate Iced Doughnuts, but I also have to work hard to get the nutrients that I need. Staples for me include peanut butter and honey on bagels, bananas, chocolate milk for recovery, and daily vitamins. With the wealth of Wellness information that we have available at Allegacy, I have learned even more about the foods that I need – including those green things called vegetables.
Long distance running may not be for everyone, but I believe we are made to be out there whether we are walking, jogging, or running. Sometimes, all it takes is just taking the first step, finding a few minutes during the day or in the evening to slip on the running shoes and take off out the door – and this is how you start. It is one day at a time, one step at a time, and each time you simply try to go just a little bit farther. For starters, take a big, deep breath and then try to run for one minute and then walk for one minute and repeat. The next time, try to add one more minute, and repeat.
My mantra is by Robert Browning, “Ah, but a man’s reach should exceed his grasp – or what’s a heaven for?” When it comes to running or any venture we may be after, my only advice is – dare to dream, decide to go for it, believe, and don’t look back.
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