Author: thecausecoach

Sixty Weeks to 60: Running

Sixty Weeks to 60: Running

thecausecoach

(10 Weeks)

March 4, 1996, fell on a Monday.  The snow from a big February storm was almost all melted, so I decided that would be the day that I would give running an honest try.  What I would describe as an embarrassing performance in the Corporate Challenge the year before, brought me to the conclusion that maybe, just maybe, training for this year’s race would offer some redemption.  And it did. 

But not just redemption. On that day 29 years ago, I started a new life.

Running, for most of us who call ourselves runners, isn’t just a hobby or a sport.  It is who we are at our very core.  It’s why we go to bed early. It’s why we eat what we do. It’s why most of our friends tend to be runners too.

Running through the years.

Running has touched every part of my life. My job. My friends. My Spouse. My weekend plans. My vacation plans. My savings. Most of my clothes. My stockpile of shoes.  My social media posts. 

I have written a lot about running here since I started this blog in early 2016.  According to the index there are 112 posts on Running and Fitness and another 27 Race Reviews.  As I start my 30th year running today, I am not sure what else I can write here about running that I haven’t already covered.

Looking back through all my previous posts on the subject I can at least share some of my favorites:

My Parents’ 10k (April 2016) was something I had originally written for my running club’s newsletter in 2009. It highlights my first 10k race, which also became my most frequently run 10ks.  While I haven’t been able to get out to the East End since I moved to Illinois, that 10k still remains my favorite. 

A Few Reasons Why Runners Make Better Employees (August 2017) discusses how I believed running helped my career and how I feel the dedication needed to be a runner can carry over to the workplace for anyone. 

What a Difference a Year Makes (October 2019) compares my life in Chicago from the first time I ran a neighborhood race (and felt home sick) to the running the same race the following year after living and working and running in Chicago for another 12 months. 

14 Life Lessons in 24 Years Running (March 2020) comes as close to what I would have written for this post had I not written in already. 

Gratitude: 25 Years Running (June 2021) commemorates Global Running Day, the 2nd in a pandemic where I was probably feeling a little down about the absence of in-person racing. 

The pandemic was certainly hard on my running.  I did manage to keep at it. Got creative by running every street in Vernon Hills, Illinois.  I also embraced virtual races for a while.  But what I genuinely missed about running during the pandemic, wasn’t the running. I was going that.  What I missed were the other runners.

The best thing that running has given me is the connection with other runners.  The competition. The comradery. The community.  Some of the people from the Gilda’s Club group I coached in 2019, who I talk about in What a Difference a Year Makes have become my closest friends here in Chicago. The best part of winter is meeting up with them on Sunday mornings for a short run on the Lakefront Path in Lincoln Park followed by coffee and conversation.

Our Sunday morning group disbands for the summer as soon as marathon training begins.  I get busy with work, training with the Mercy Home Heroes, continually trying to prove that runners still make better employees.  

Please help me support Mercy Home for Boys & Girls with my 60th Birthday Fundraiser.  I will be running the United Airlines NYC Half on March 16th. This will be Half Marathon #54. My goal is to reach Half Marathon #60 before the end of the year. Please help me stay motivated, and make sure the children of Mercy Home are provided the care they need. To learn more about Mercy Home and my why, please visit my fundraising page. Thank you.

Sixty Weeks to 60: Modern Conveniences

Sixty Weeks to 60: Modern Conveniences

thecausecoach

(11 Weeks)

Air-conditioning. Dishwashers. Refrigerators. Rotary phones. TVs. Automobiles. Commercial aircraft. Credit cards. 

My parents, born in the 1920s, had none of these things growing up while I took them for granted. Their parents didn’t have access to medical care that is now commonplace. Coronary by-pass surgery which extended the lives of both my parents, only came along in the early 1960s. And vaccines! My parents knew a lot of people who had polio. I knew one. I had the mumps and measles as a child. My daughter did not. 

Me, with the mumps. 1971.

My parents told stories of how they gathered with their families around a radio in the living room for news and entertainment. Their families didn’t have cars.  Their homes didn’t have a telephone – at all.  And well into my childhood, my mom would often refer to the refrigerator as the “ice box” (a throwback to the boxes of her youth with a compartment for food and another lined with tin for the block of ice, that predated the refrigerator to keep food cold).

My mother also talked about how Minnie, the family cat, would often sleep in “the coal bin” and come out full of soot.  Their heat came from a coal furnace. The coal bin in the basement caught the ash. It was her brother’s job to clean the coal bin – mostly of the ash, sometimes of Minnie. 

My dad told me about the fun he’d have at Coney Island on a summer day, that ended with a horrendous journey home, sunburned, on a crowded train with no air conditioning. He told stories about how after leaving the service at the conclusion of WWII he went to work for the department of the Navy, as a civilian, on some of the first IBM computers.  They filled entire rooms.

I recall thinking that my parents grew up during such an incredible time and saw the creation of so many modern conveniences.  My mind at the time couldn’t even conceive of the innovation that would occur in my lifetime and how so many of those “modern conveniences” would evolve – many out of existence – before my daughter would even reach high school.

The internet. Roombas. Smart phones. Streaming services. GPS. Fitness trackers. Voice-activated assistants. Surveillance capitalism. The near eradication of polio and other diseases. 

Cell phones, online banking, and GPS have completely changed my routines for the better and allow me to spend my time engaged in more meaningful pursuits, and not get lost as much as my parents did. It can be argued that some of technology’s advancements have led to much of that time being wasted and our minds being manipulated in dangerous ways. Although, I also recall my parents often referring to television as “the boob tube.” 

My daughter was able to grow up in a world without the fear of many of the childhood diseases I was not because she was immunized. We are also force-fed advertising targeted at us because of algorithms. We have to weed through a sea of disinformation on social media – including anti-vax campaigns – that threaten public health and at its extreme, democracy and world order.  

We are at the peril of every company, medical office, and government agency that holds our confidential data. Requirements of life in the 21st Century that come with a lot of risks. In the hands of bad actors, the consequences could be dire. 

I often think about childhood, and if one morning I woke in my old bedroom, without my smart phone, or fitness tracker, or Google, would I care? Would it matter? Would there be a moment when I would be frustrated by not being able to text a friend? Would I be annoyed going to the library, using the card catalog, and spending hours doing my own research of a subject? Or would I embrace the simplicity of that time?  I wonder too if my parents ever wished to have the “simplicity” of their childhood back, or did modern conveniences truly offer an easier life?

My parents lived through the Great Depression and a World War. Mortality rates were much higher during their youth and there is no doubt that their chores required a lot more effort, plus there were all those uphill walks to and from school. So I am thinking that they would view their adult lives as better times. I’m not sure I can say the same.

Connie (my bestie since the 5th grade) and I proving that smart phones are not required for a selfie. 1983.

Did you really think this wasn’t going to include a fundraiser? It’s me. Of course it is! Over the course of these 60 weeks, I am hoping to raise $6000 for the children of Mercy Home for Boys & Girls (that’s just $100 a week!). To learn more about Mercy Home and my why, please visit my fundraising page. Thank you.

Sixty Weeks to 60: Puppy Love (Part 2)

Sixty Weeks to 60: Puppy Love (Part 2)

thecausecoach

(12 Weeks)

We had limited our family vacations because of the added expense for boarding the dog. After Malachy died in October we were between dogs, so we went to Colonial Williamsburg for a short family getaway at Christmastime.  At first Chris said, “No more dogs!” then it became, “No more terriers” and “it can’t shed.” So as soon as we got back from that trip my daughter and I started searching for a dog that fell within Dad’s parameters before he changed his mind. 

The previous summer when Malachy was still very much alive, I read the book The Art of Racing in the Rain. Since we had two dogs with literary-inspired names, I knew my next dog would be “Enzo.” I just didn’t realize it would be so soon. 

When we started our search, we were looking for a dog that wasn’t a terrier, didn’t shed and looked like an Enzo. My daughter found him on the internet at an Aussie-doodle breeder in Stonefort, Illinois. This little, mostly black, ball of fur was the last of his litter and would be old enough to ship that week. 

We paid for him with PayPal (I felt so 21st Century!) and his picture was taken down from the website. Because I was somewhat skeptical that he’d survive the trip, we didn’t tell the girl. She was crushed when she went to the web site again that night, but I held on to my belief it was for the best.

This place was so far south in Illinois, the breeder was shipping him out of St Louis. He was booked on a flight to Newark with a layover in Dallas-Fort Worth. I was tracking him the entire way. It was a long day. Once we knew the flight was arriving on time, I announced that I had to pick up “something for work” at the airport and asked if anyone wanted to take a ride with me. We were all in.

First glimpse of Enzo. From breeder’s website.
Three-month old Enzo at home. February, 2011

On January 5, 2011, Enzo was home. I had felt that Malachy had been my soul dog and this one’s purpose was merely to fill a void. I knew having a dog in the house was good for everyone But this one was going to be everyone’s dog, not mine. 

He wouldn’t run with me. On a few attempts he took off at top speed dragging me down the path until he was exhausted and just laid down and made me carry him back to the house. I figured out he was a sprinter, not a long-distance runner. He loved to run the fence line in our yard chasing cars to the point of obsession and wore out a path in the grass. 

He wasn’t neutered until he was almost four. I’m not sure why since his/our other dogs had always been, but Chris was dead set against it like it was some assault on his own manhood. It took the dog ejaculating on our bed for me to win out.

He was mischievously smart. He was also a bit of a scavenger. He would honestly eat anything. Not sure what he got in to, but he was once diagnosed with “inflamed intestines” because he ate God knows what. When asked what he ate, I said “$936.” Surprisingly, right up until the end that was the only real bad vet bill.

He loved Starbuck’s pup cups, anything within his reach on the dining room table or kitchen counter (especially PB&Js). 

I witnessed him killing a groundhog in the yard once which was incredibly disturbing and made me wary of every getting a cat for a very long time. One summer he ate the raw intestines of rabbit in our neighborhood that was killed for him by a local coyote. I guess I should be pleased he lived as long as he did.

While he had some dog friends, he didn’t really like dog parks and preferred the company of humans. When I’d have guests over sitting around the dining room table, he’d keep bringing them his things (his toys and whatever else he could find). By the end of the evening, there would be a whole bunch of stuff piled under the dining room table. And if there was someone who didn’t like dogs, he’d stand right next to them often putting his head or a paw on their knee. 

He lived through a lot with me in his short 13 years. He had met my mom (who died in 2012), comforted me through cancer treatment, and was the last one to see Chris alive. He was an incredible comfort to us in the aftermath of those loses and in 2018 he rode shotgun with me for the 800-mile drive to Illinois. 

Having a dog when my daughter was a teen helped me feel loved when everyone else in the house seemed to be turning on me. And then, in an empty nest, in a new city, I still had someone to care for and go exploring with. I remember our first walk to the lake. He put his nose right up to the water, got splashed, and had enough of that! 

He was overwhelmed by the smells of the city! My first place was an apartment east of Broadway in Lakeview East. It’s such a dog-friendly neighborhood, where shop owners leave water bowls and treat containers out! We made some friends who lived in our building and started taking our afternoon walks together frequently! Enzo officially had friends that he was excited by and whose company he seemed to thoroughly enjoy.

That seems like a long time ago, and yet more than a year now since he left us, I can still feel him and remember sitting on the edge of Lake Michigan and remembering how warm his fur felt against my skin in the sunshine. 

Did you really think this wasn’t going to include a fundraiser? It’s me. Of course it is! Over the course of these 60 weeks, I am hoping to raise $6000 for the children of Mercy Home for Boys & Girls (that’s just $100 a week!). To learn more about Mercy Home and my why, please visit my fundraising page. Thank you.

Sixty Weeks to 60: Winter Vacation (Part 2)

Sixty Weeks to 60: Winter Vacation (Part 2)

thecausecoach

(14 Weeks)

We wound up on a road trip to Nova Scotia in February because Chris found a great deal on ocean front property on eBay and I thought making such a purchase sight unseen was insane. So with a referral to a local attorney, a week free for winter break and what seemed to be clear weather, we hit the road. 

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