But,

I love the rain but,

It’s been raining alot recently and while I love the rain it’s been a very hard thing to live with, especially with an outdoor school. I love a good rainy day alone in my room making legos and watching movies, but the procrastination went wild. I found myself wasting time on things I knew needed to be done. I can’t seem to find the motivation either. Senioritis is kicking my behind and the rain certainly doesn’t help. I did love the alone time in my room though. The peace and quiet, how I could just be me and not have to worry about anyone else or the constant comments. I did sleep in a lot though and the motivation was lacking, but I do really love the rain.

I’m ready to graduate, but

I will miss my friends. I always think about how I’ve known these people for years and yet I won’t return again next year to another orientation day with them. We won’t make fun of all the new freshmen and reminisce on how small we used to be, but I also couldn’t handle another round of freshmen. No offense but this year was definitely the last.

I’m not a runner, but

I actually ran today and I was so proud of myself. I felt amazing the rain and wind beating against my skin. The freezing of my skin as I ran through that rain, and the constant repetition of a single phrase in the back of my head. Don’t walk! and I didn’t I made it the whole run with not a single walk. There may have been a couple of very slow running in there but I made it and I couldn’t have been prouder. My friends cheered as I finished the run the smile on their faces matched the happiness and pride I had in myself. although yesterday was an easy run so let’s see if I still feel this way next week. I don’t want to give up, my stubbornness won’t let me. I want to run with my friends and spend the last sports seasons hanging laughing and running with them. I just can’t believe it took me this long to start.

I hate lying, but

I can’t tell people they are bad at something. I feel terrible about it but I don’t want to seem bitchy about it either. I’m sorry but you are not as good as you think you are. I’m not saying I’m the best, god knows I don’t think that but I don’t act like I can. plus if you tell someone else they are bad at something it becomes a whole thing and they accuse you of jealousy or thinking you’re better, but trust me I’m the farthest thing from jealous. I don’t think I will ever be able to tell the truth when it comes to that, I’m not sure how people do it. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I don’t want you to embarrass yourself.

I want to pursue music, but

what if I’m not good enough. actually rewind I know I’m not good enough, I love singing don’t get me wrong but the music business is cutthroat you either have it or not. Do I have it? I don’t know, I feel like my friends just hype me up but paired with the section above what if they’re just lying? We will see. I couldn’t dream of living without music, but do I have what it takes. Well, I do have my father’s stubbornness so I know I’m not going down without a fight. hopefully, I make it, and these blogs are not recovered by the paparazzi.

I would love to keep writing, but it’s 12: 30 am and I’m ready to go to sleep.

PC:https://www.google.com/search?q=but&source=lmns&bih=813&biw=1440&prmd=isvhnmbtz&hl=en-US&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwj44uqWq5uEAxUmM0QIHXWGAXUQ0pQJKAB6BAgBEAI

Running Thoughts

Ok lets go I got this,

there’s the start and go

c’mon lets go run fast fast fast

ok slow down its going more uphill

why is he having a conversation with that runner, never mind

Focus on me and my breathing

holy shit how is he that far ahead already

Ok just go at my own pace

Run past the office and little more till the downhill keep going

Ok mow the downhill ahhh I can chill out a little bit

don’t go slow though

lets go run run run im at the bottom getting closer

theres the trailer

and the driveway

and bear gate

ok 1.3 miles left

but there all uphill

pain

I’m gonna walk for a little I’m hurting a lot

Ok that’s enough of a break go

Aw shoot it still hurts

I just have to finish this

C’mon almost done last little bit no walking

Oh shit theres the gate lets goooooo

Dang they sprinted,

I did tell coach I would too so

At the gate go go go go go

oh wow I cant feel my legs like at all that’s fun

And done in 26:35

Not imma get myself a popsicle

yum

Image credit: depositphotos.com

Runners High

I set a goal to each day to get outside somehow.

Whether it be sitting and looking around at the scenery, taking in a view somewhere, or simply walking around, I need to do something to clear my head.

But nothing gets the blood rushing and clears my mind like running.

There is nothing like hearing the rhythmic pitter patter of your feet hitting the solid ground.

The only problem with running is actually getting out and working up to the rhythmic sounds of your feet.

Now the easy part is once you get into the rhythm and you start to loose track of time and you feel you worries start to slip away.

Once you loose yourself, you drift into what some would call the “runners high”

That high you feel is numbing and freeing, yet it is full of utter exhaustion and the desire to quit, but something motivates you to push through and experience the moment and loose yourself.

Then in the blink of an eye, you’ve reached your destination, or something snaps you back into reality and you are back to focusing on the rhythmic pitter patter of your feet hitting the solid ground.

Art Credit: Salomon.com

Evening Runs

Sundays are long runs.

I usually end up doing them in the evening much later than I should. I tell myself I’m being strategical and avoiding the heat, but if that was true I would run in the morning (that RARELY happens). In reality, my procrastination and dread for long runs are the reason why my long runs happen in the evening.

Yesterday though, my run was pleasant. I never thought I’d say these words, but it was almost enjoyable.

Around 7:55 I told myself, “Bella, get up, you’re running.” I grabbed my headphones, running watch, a headlamp, and started to run.

It was cool weather.

My music was good.

It was dark to the point where I could see my shoes and three feet ahead of me, but nothing else.

I had no light to see my watch screen, so I just ran. I didn’t constantly check to see my mileage or pace, or how much time I had left: I simply just ran.

And then there were the shadows.

What I’m going to say next will sound like some philosophical bs but while I was running it totally made sense, if you’re a runner, you know that the mind starts to lose sanity after about five miles.

The newly set sun and distant street lights served as an invitation for three shadows to join me. One ran about four feet behind me, one right by my side, and one ran far in front of me.

I stared at the three shadows for a good twenty minuets because, like I said, running is a tedious thing that causes a bit of insanity, and I started to think.

I thought about my progress with running, the struggles I’ve faced with it, where I am, and where I want to be.

The shadow behind me represented where I started: my first time running without someone forcing me to do it, the first time I competed in a race, and all of the first steps I took in my running journey.

The middle shadow right next to me represented where I am now: I am not in as great of shape as I was at my peak, but I’m in better shape that when I started. I am working to improve my skills.

The shadow in front of me represents where I want to be: my goals, the times I want to achieve, races I want to compete in, and mental toughness that I want to acquire with my running.

On my evening long run, in my philosophical state, I stared ahead and placed one foot in front of the other, in a rhythmical pattern, as I chased down my running goals and the shadow that ran ahead of me.

Photo via runningmagazine.ca

minty

By the river with the low hanging cypress trees and the strong rapids, down by the field, she was sleeping, 

envisioning God,

envisioning freedom, 

envisioning life. 

But reality woke her from what she knew to be a dream, and not her future. 

she was neglected, hurt, defined by the scar on her forehead. 

she was abused for the color of her skin

she was owned.

she was cheated by the world, just like each of her brothers and her sisters.

photo credit: phoebewahl.tumblr.com

she was alone. 

she waited for an answer, an answer that could only come from liberty or from death. 

so minty ran. 

minty ran far,

one-hundred miles far following the North Star that shown bright in the sky.

when she was lost, He guided her to the river that took her home, 

the river that took her away from the heat of hatred and grimness

the river that washed over her face, cleaning her from the dirt of her “masters.”

in thirty-days time, she felt 

the warmth of acceptance, 

the warmth of respect. 

she stand there,

with the right of her freedom in her grasp,

the sun reflected in her tear-filled eyes. 

Minty felt the freedom embrace her,

she felt her brothers and sisters around her,

she felt the comfort of a home.

Runs Like This

Photo Credit: pinterest.com

School was hard today; long homework assignments on top of essays on top of tests on top of projects and, to make my day more stressful, I spent hours anxious and worried about fears in my head. To top it off, I skipped lunch to try and end a relationship with a boy without hurting his feelings, but it made the situation worse.  By my last class period, my brain was throbbing wanting to explode and my anxiety was through the roof.

I wanted to lay in bed and cry, but I thought of a semicolon and put on my running clothes.

This is where my day started to change.

I asked an amazing girl if she wanted to run with me, I knew she had to run today anyway because she is training for a half marathon, so I thought we could run together.

She said yes and we set off for a five mile run.

After about two hundred feet, a sharp pain in my calf that I get often when I run started to scream inside my leg. My negative mind set began to kick in. I’m going to slow her down… This run is going to suck. You’re not going to be able to do this. You’re such a slow runner. This is why your coach isn’t proud of you. This is why you won’t make it to CIF. 

Luckily, I made an amazing decision: I took a deep breath, cast out the negative voices,  and just kept running.

My running parter and I talked about school and life and running. We talked until we both fell silent as we slipped under the spell of running: our movements connected directly to our breath, the pain became a faint feeling instead of an all-encompassing sensation, our foot steps made a clip-clop clip-clop rhythm. Our breathing was all our mind focused on and we became encompassed in the aura of running.

Breath in, step step, breath out, step step, breath in, step step, breath out, step step…

My breathing was like a conductor and my footsteps were the orchestra.

I usually run alone and it’s crazy how much running with other people can change your running experience. Even when we weren’t talking, I felt like my running partner was there for me. If I fell, she would catch me. If I needed to slow down, she would stay with me. If I wanted to run ten more miles, she would run with me and I hope she knows that I would do the exact same for her. If you are reading this right now, I hope you know how grateful I am to run with you.

When you’re in the zen of running, you go with the flow, you are supportive of your peers, and you are supportive of yourself. This is how I was today.

My legs felt strong, my mind felt clear. I was next to an amazing girl, surrounded by beautiful scenery. I was happy.

Once we got to our destination, we bought drinks, smiled, laughed, talked, and stretched out our aching muscles.

Running is an unpredictable sport. Somedays you’ll run a mile and your legs will feel like lead. You’ll be miserable, in pain, and want to stop. Other days, you’ll run ten miles and feel amazing, like you could keep going forever.

On bad running days, your brain will say “stop running,” your body will say “stop running,” but you need to find it in your heart to say “keep running.”

Runs like today are the reason my heart says “keep running.”

After bad workouts, bad races, and times where I want to quit, I will think back to the run I did today and think: “Runs like that are why I love running.”

Respect the road.

There is a road that I run all the time.

Since I’m currently training by myself, I get to decide where I run. I avoid this road as much as possible. But during cross country season, when I’m at the mercy of my coaches, most of our workouts involve the road in some way.

Going down is smooth sailing. Going up is hell.

photo credit: nelseverydaypainting.blogspot.com

The road is more like a hill, a giant, mile-plus long hill. It’s on a constant incline and, as you get closer to the top, it gets steeper.

At first, I absolutely loathed this road.

I always hated it in the beginning, because it turned even my best runs turn into something that made me feel like I was putting myself through torture.

The road is sometimes unforgiving. The more you climb, the weaker your legs feel, the more your lungs burn, the more you feel like your brain is about to explode.

I used to fight it. Each day, I felt like I was preparing for this great battle, in which only one victor would prevail: me or the hill.

But, eventually, I started to realize that it wasn’t really a battle of physicality; it was more so a battle of wit. I learned to work with the road instead of against it and things started to make more sense.

I learned to take advantage of even the tiniest bit of downhill, to take the straightest line possible. I started to read the road, to take note of how it felt when I ran a certain way.

To this day, I still don’t like running it. But, I’ve learned how to do it properly.

The road used to be some foreign, intimidating beast that I thought I would never be able to understand. Now, I realize that it was really just an old, wise mentor for me, my very own Mr. Miyagi. 

Last night, I was headed up the road on the bus and, as I looked out the window, I knew exactly what point we were at solely based on the glimpse I caught of the tops of the oak trees. It made me smile, seeing how far I’ve come.

The same miles of curving pavement that used to seem endless to me are now ingrained into my memory, including details down to which tree is positioned where on each corner.

The countless days of practice, all of the sweat-soaked t-shirts and aching muscles really did pay off, in so many more ways than for just my running.

If only I knew back then just how much I would come to understand the road and how much it would come to understand about me.

I wouldn’t have believed it three years ago.

My Tuesday Run

Image from redbirdhills.com

In cross county, my coaches always remind us that the sport has as much to do with mental strength as it does physical strength.

With that in mind, I’d like to invite you to come running with me – for the mental part, at least.

Here’s what a few miles look like inside of my head.

Mile 1:
Don’t start too fast, just get warmed up.
It’s hot today, but not as bad as it usually is. The gravel crunches beneath my shoes. We reach a little bit of downhill.
I hear my coach’s voice: “Let gravity do the work.”
Get your breathing back. Drop your arms. Shake it out.
The road in front of us curves up a long hill. It’s steep.
Slow it down. What hurts worse, lungs or legs? Legs. I can breathe still.
My calves tighten the farther up we climb. I count my steps between each exhale. We’re running in 4/4 time. I inhale on the 1st beat, exhale through 2, 3, 4.

Mile 2:
Sweat drips down my forehead. I wipe it off with my shirt.
Take it easy now.
My breathing is steady – that’s good. My left calf hurts more than my right. The opposite of yesterday.
This hill is a bitch. Settle in, we’ll be here for a while.
It hurts.

Mile 3:
Keep your arms down. Breathe.
The road settles and is flat for a while.
You’re not tired, it just hurts.

Mile 4:
What hurts worse, lungs or legs? Both. You’re not tired, you just can’t breathe. There’s a difference.
The next two miles are steady uphill.
Use your arms! The harder you work the faster you’ll be done.

Mile 5:
This hill is a BITCH.
My ragged breathing is louder than my shoes on the pavement. Sweat covers my whole body. My arms ache from pumping and the muscles in my legs feel like they’re made of both cement and water at the same time. My mouth is so dry that when I touch my tongue to the roof of my mouth it sticks.
Eyes up, on the road. So close. I feel awful.
I can’t breathe. The smell of wood chips in the orchard makes me want to puke. Push.
Everything hurts.

The Finish:
I jog past the green gate the marking the end of the road, the end of the run. My left foot leaves the pavement and lands on grass and the right follows.
Don’t sit down. Breathe.
As I walk back and forth beneath the oak trees, my lungs start to settle down. The tension in my legs slowly fades, first easing up in my quads and then from my calves.
My breathing returns to normal. I’m not hurting anymore.
I just ran five miles.
I feel good.

 

Only 73 days left

So for my senior project I decided to run a marathon. For some reason I actually thought that would be a good idea. I’m not really sure what I was thinking when I decided this.

Now I’m not saying it has all been bad, but I am now entering into my seventh week of training and I’m really ready to be done.

Don’t get me wrong, I love exercising, but there is something about it loosing its appeal when you have to stick to a specific schedule everyday.

Wednesdays have become my favorite days. Why you may ask? Because I have every single Wednesday off. Not one Wednesday in my 16 week training plan do I have to run. Just having one day off might not seem like much, but to someone who is running around 30 plus miles a week, having one day off is amazing.

Only 73 more days of running left.

I can do this.

A Different Type of Family

CIF.

Ever since I became involved in sports I had always thought of CIF as the place where the best of the best go to compete. I never thought in a million years I would make it there, especially for cross country.

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Photo Credit: MomoeTakamatsu

This past weekend, my high school girls’ cross country team (only consisting of five members), our two coaches and a few key members of our support group, made the long haul to Riverside, California. It was an all day event, starting from the early hours of the morning and not returning until well after the sun had gone down. The traffic was horrendous, the dust was suffocating (leaving us with the worst “runner’s cough,”) and the pain felt never ending.

I would do it all over again.

This is a memory I will cherish and I will always be grateful for being given this opportunity. The traffic, coughing and eternal pain, pale in comparison to the memories we made that day. The girls, some I knew from years before and some I just met this year, are now like sisters to me. All the long practices, blisters, sweat, tears and countless times of feeling like our chests were going to explode or we were going to lose our lunches, brought us together in an unexplainable bond.

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Photo Credit: Momoe Takamatsu

Running has changed me and made me into the person I am. It has taught me so much more than just how to breathe or use my arms to make it up a hill. It has done more than just help me get into shape. It has been tough and very painful but it has taught me a sense of commitment, strength, and family.

I would have never experianced any of this if it wasn’t for my coach.

Our coach shared with us after the race that we were the first team he’s ever taken to CIF. When he told us how proud he was and how much growth he’s seen in us, it brought tears to my eyes. I have been running for him since my freshman year. I am now a senior and this past race was my final one. This man that I call a coach, teacher, advisor, and friend is the most generous and inspiring man I know. He has been there cheering me on and encouraging me more times than I can count. He is like a second father to me, pushing me to the point that I want to yell back, but always knowing what’s best for me, supporting me to no end. Turning my jersey in means so much more than just an end to a sports season. It is an end to that chapter in my life, but not an end to the friendship that was made. I know that will always be there and he will always be there, cheering me on at the finish line.

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Photo Credit: MomoeTakamatsu