Inspiration – theCauseCoach

This is what 60 looks like

May 13, 2025May 13, 2025thecausecoach

Today I am 60.

I’m not sure how that happened. I guess it’s just a passage of time that I’ve barely seemed to notice…until I did.

Maybe it’s the heavy losses of the last two decades. The family and friends who have long since passed. The less-than-optimal career moves that took me off course. Investments gone bad. There are regrets of course. How can anyone who has lived and taken risks not had some?

A black and white photograph of a young child with curly hair, wearing a dress with a ruffled collar and sleeves, smiling while seated. — 1968 – age 3

A young girl with short hair and a white dress, sitting and smiling at the camera in a black and white photograph. — 1968 – age 3

But now, those moments I once seemed stuck in, all seem so fleeting. College courses, bad dates, home improvements, a baby in diapers, unemployment, marathon training. Yes, everything passes. From the joyful to the time-consuming and worrisome. We move through it. And one day, we’re looking back at the once mundane – and even painful – with longing.

I look back at old pictures of me, images of I once regarded with distain. Now I think, I look much better in that dress than I remember. That short haircut did really compliment my face. I looked so young…

A vintage portrait of a young girl with shoulder-length brown hair, wearing a plaid shirt and a necklace, looking thoughtfully at the camera against a peach-colored backdrop. — 1979 – 8th grade

A young woman with long hair, wearing a light-colored shirt, smiling softly at the camera against a soft, neutral background. — 1979 – 8th grade

That’s the sad side of growing older.

But there is a plus side. Life’s changes also bring a shift in perspective and priorities that begin to make life simpler, each day more rewarding, and make us more confident in our convictions, truer to ourselves.

I have traded organized religion for personal spirituality; a career for a mission; developed a more flexible definition of family. All of which transcends external influences. I have long since stopped caring what other people think of me – especially people whose opinions don’t matter. I have become less rigid and have relaxed the traditional rules my parents passed down of who and how I should be at this age.

Portrait of a woman with long brown hair, wearing a striped shirt, set against a green, blurred background. — 1990 – 25

Portrait of a woman with curly hair wearing a white dress, smiling outdoors. — 1990 – 25

I am not currently in the best shape of my life and realize I may never be again. But I am still running half marathons (#55 a week and a half ago and a plan to get to #60 before the year is out) and I haven’t closed the door on another full (maybe next year).

I am no longer in a C-level position, a peak earner, but get up every day in love with what I do, why I do it, and who I do it for. And the bills get paid. I’ve saved for retirement and have a vision for that, too. Although not too soon. My dad, who retired at 62, told me at 82, that if he knew he was going to live so long, he wouldn’t have retired as early as he did.

The more days I live, the more of the puzzle pieces I see coming together. I have witnessed entire lifetimes through the two dogs I’ve guided from housebreaking to the rainbow bridge. I saw my daughter come into grow into this world, and witness my parents as they departed it.

A woman with shoulder-length hair in a blue blazer stands next to another woman with short, curly hair in a patterned red dress, smiling in front of a La Salle University sign. — 1987. Me at 22 with Mom at 60.

Road sign indicating 'JCT ILLINOIS 60' under a blue sky. — 1987. Me at 22 with Mom at 60.

I still refer to myself as “middle-aged” which, unless anyone genuinely believes I can succeed at reaching 120, that shipped sailed a while back. If I live as long as my (adoptive) parents, I have another 25 years. My biological mother celebrated her 90^th last fall. So maybe 30 years more. Personally, I’m shooting for 111 + 2 months so I can be around for America’s Tricentennial (assuming we make it through the semi-quincentennial next year). Who knows what’s in cards for any of us next week, next month, next year…I’ve been aware of the time going by – The say, in the end, it’s the wink of an eye. (Jackson Browne).

Whether twenty-five or thirty, it doesn’t matter. I am finally at a point in life where I have stopped wishing away time, thinking things will be better when… I have stopped imagining life as it could be and have learned to just enjoy what each day brings. With all that I’ve become, I have no doubt that this will be the most fulfilling time of my life. I have been watching the younger generation at home and work, their insecurities, self-doubt, some excitement accompanied with anxieties about the unknown. At first maybe a little envious of the full life they have before them, I know I am happiest right where I am. I approach each day with the wisdom of experience, and a tremendous amount of gratitude for those experiences – all of them.

I feel I succeeded at parenting, gotten a second chance at love and marriage and family, have a fulfilling vocation that is about helping others. I still get out for a run, and have hope for the future through the addition of a new puppy to our home.

I quote my mother almost daily, and yet today, it’s my father’s words that ring most true. Today is indeed the first day of the rest of my life.

Happy Birthday to me.

Please help me support Mercy Home for Boys & Girls with my 60th Birthday Fundraiser. So far this year, I ran the F^3 Half Marathon (January 25th, #53), the United Airlines NYC (March 16th, #54) and the Chicagoland Spring Half (May 4th, #55). Next up is the Chicago Spring Half on Sunday. 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.

A road sign displaying 'JCT ILLINOIS 60' against a clear blue sky, with the text 'SIXTY WEEKS to 60!' prominently featured in a bold font.

Sixty Weeks to 60: Short Stories

May 6, 2025May 4, 2025thecausecoach

(One Week!)

When he first met me, my uncle told my parents, “This child has lived before.” I don’t know about that, but I have lived, and I have the stories to tell. So, to make a long story short, as my mom would say…

One of my favorite lunches at the Blue Bird was “tongue”. It was kind of like corned beef and I loved it! Until I saw the chef taking it out of the refrigerator one day and realized it was actually a real cow’s tongue. Never ate it again.

Black and white photograph of a house covered in snow, surrounded by snow-laden trees. A white fence and snowdrifts are visible in the foreground. — The Blue Bird in snow.

Many, many years after my parents closed the Blue Bird, then the gift shop, and sold the property, just before my father passed and my parents were living back in Bergen County, the new owners were trying to have the zoning changed. It was in the local papers. My dad couldn’t believe they were still calling it the “Blue Bird property” after all that time.

When I was in 2^nd grade, my parents signed me up for piano lessons with Sister Stella at M.B.S. I hated it. She was so mean, slamming my little fingers down on the keys when I hit a wrong note. I wanted to quit, but my parents kept telling me to stick with it. Then my dad signed up to take lessons with Sister Stella, too. After two lessons, he came home and told me it was okay if I quit!

A young girl with long red hair and a yellow dress sits at a piano, looking directly at the camera with an expression of concentration. Sheet music is placed on the piano, and a lamp is visible in the background.

A young girl in a white tennis dress and hat, holding a tennis racket, standing in a grassy area with trees in the background.

Father Carl, the pastor at M.B.S. was a big tennis player and would befriend all the parishioners with courts. We were no exception. I remember one time he came by unannounced, and my mom was busy painting the front porch, so she sent me and Conne out to play with him. He seemed a little annoyed that we weren’t up to his caliber of play. And we thought it was funny to see him annoyed at us. “Pick up the ball!”

When I was in elementary school Sr. Elizabeth caught me doing something bad which she was going to discuss with my parents at the upcoming parent-teacher night a few days away. I prayed the rosary every night leading up to it. We had a major snowstorm and the meeting was cancelled! By the time the next one rolled around, Sister had forgotten about it and my parents eventually died (decades later) having never heard about the awful thing I did. So yeah, I believe in the power of prayer.

I was a baseball geek when I was a kid. Knew all the players, their stats, and a fair amount of Yankees trivia. In the summer of 1983, I won $100 from Z-100 radio because I knew who the home plate umpire was at Don Larson’s perfect game (which, by the way, my parents attended).

When I was a teen, my parents said they always knew I had a party when the house was cleaner when they returned (responsible teen that I was!).

A woman smiling while sitting on grass, wearing sunglasses and holding a brown paper bag, dressed in a white t-shirt and colorful shorts.

A porch area featuring a small table with various beverage bottles, including soda and alcohol containers, alongside boxes on the floor.

When I was 24, Lional Simmons, who was the freshman star of my college basketball team, now a senior, was on pace for his 3000th NCAA career point. I bought one ticket to the game, left work early and drove over 2 hours to be there. I was so happy to have been part of it even though I went alone. Sometimes we need to go alone to have meaningful experiences that we’d miss otherwise.

I went to a PBA Ball many years ago and won the basket of cheer which was a huge Craftsman toolbox with bottles of alcohol in it. My date tried to convince me to give him the toolbox. I said, “No way, you can have the booze, but the toolbox is mine.” Still have it!

Chris and I went to the safari at Great Adventure for my 29^th birthday – it was spring! You know where this is going, right? Every single animal! Bears, lions, zebras, ostriches! It was like zoo porn!

I bought a pre-lit tree at Home Depot because Chris didn’t want real trees anymore since they were “too messy.” As a compromise, I made him agree to buying the biggest one they had! It didn’t fit. He had to saw 6 inches off the bottom – yes, of a fake tree!

I love hiking. Took my daughter on a long hike along The Palisades once and I misjudged the trail, and it started getting dark and we were far from the car at Stateline lookout. So thankfully I had a charge on my cell and called the park rangers to pick us up at the Alpine boat basin and drive us up to our car. It was a bit of a long walk in what turned into complete darkness. I kept saying, “We’re okay.” Mostly trying to convince myself and not letting my daughter know that I honestly thought being eaten by a bear was a possibility. The cop was surprised to see we were in such good shape and still had food and water (Girl Scouts taught me to always have a pack of provisions!). He told us we could have lasted out there all night. No, thank you!

A child sitting on a fallen log in a woodland area covered with autumn leaves, holding a drink and looking up thoughtfully, with a backpack nearby. — That hike. Before it got dark.

A person climbing on large rocks in a wooded area, navigating through fallen branches and greenery. — That hike. Before it got dark.

My daughter once said to me, “remember when Dad died, and we had all that food in the house?” A sense of humor is your most powerful asset in finding strength. And food. Food helps.

How about when you send a text message to your kid that reads “remember when you left the water running in the upstairs bathroom and flooded the living room? Well, you’ve been vindicated.”

Worst parenting moment came when she was learning to drive. “Mom, can you show me how you do that thing where you drive with your knee?”

I have six tattoos. 3 & 4 over 1 & 2, and then 5 & 6 last year. My first one was very small. The Japanese symbol for sun. I eventually covered that with one that says “Chasing the…” with a bigger sun (my metaphor for running) on my 20^thRuniversary in 2016. I got one on the day that should have been my 25th wedding anniversary. It’s a big ass dragon that covers my whole lower back. It covers a heart with his name. He was born in the year of the Dragon, as was our only child.

A close-up view of a tattoo on a person's upper back, featuring a sun design and the phrase 'Chasing the'.

A detailed black tattoo of a dragon on the lower back, depicting intricate scales and sharp claws.

I have radiation tattoos, too. Five of them. Little dots. Last August on the 10^th anniversary of my last radiation treatment, I got a snake under my left breast that connects two of the dots. The snake is a symbol of healing and rebirth. In November on what would have been my parents 75^th wedding anniversary, I got a bluebird on my right pectoralis major. That was the first one in full color. It represents the wings that they gave me, as well as roots (since it’s landing), and is also a throwback to their Blue Bird Inn.

My childhood home was at the corner of Franklin and Circle Avenues. Down on Circle Ave was a beautiful little pond with a small wooden dock. When I was small my mom would take me there to feed the ducks. When I was old enough to ride my bike, I’d just sit on the dock enjoying the scenery, looking for fish and turtles. Circle Ave no longer circles, and that beautiful little pond is gone. Replaced by an interstate highway expansion.

A vintage photograph of a large, two-story house surrounded by trees and shrubs, with an American flag on display. A traffic sign can be seen in the foreground, indicating a road direction. — The house at the corner of Franklin & Circle.

I went through an entire day once with all my family and co-workers forgetting it was my birthday, then late in the day I went to make a transaction at my bank and the teller noticed it was my birthday, and the bank employees made a big deal out of it! Sometimes I just try to appreciate the little things and not take the rest personally.

I got pulled over once a few years ago in New Jersey for going 53 in a 25! I gave the cop the 1992 PBA card (a Jersey thing, apparently) that had been sitting in my wallet for 25 years just waiting for me to commit a traffic violation. His response? “That was the year I was born!” He let me go, but kept the PBA card, probably as a souvenir.

Not long after hitting the 50 milestone, I was in the car with my daughter and had to pull over to take my jacket off (hot flash!) and she laughed at me. I said, “you know someday when you’re in your 50s, you’ll understand. And you’ll think to yourself, ‘OMG poor mom’ and you’ll feel really, really bad. Because I’ll be dead, and you won’t have the opportunity to apologize for laughing at me.”

To be continued…

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.

A road sign showing 'JCT ILLINOIS 60' against a clear blue sky, with the text 'SIXTY WEEKS TO 60!' prominently displayed.

Sixty Weeks to 60: Running

March 4, 2025March 2, 2025thecausecoach

(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 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 30^th 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 2^nd 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.

Sixty Weeks to 60: Introduction

March 19, 2024April 14, 2024thecausecoach

Sixty weeks from today is my 60th birthday. Additionally, some other significant milestones will be commemorated during this time. I’ve wanted to get back to writing regularly for a while and decided to use this an excuse to create a small legacy project, Sixty Weeks to 60. It will be weekly reflections on my life: some of my most cherished memories, things my mom always said, lessons learned, what I wish I knew 35 years ago, and certainly some opinion pieces.

My Chicago Marathon story and why everyone should run for charity

October 6, 2023September 12, 2024thecausecoach

It’s Chicago Marathon weekend. Maybe a good time to share my Chicago Marathon story. New York City was my first, way back in 1997. Yet it’s the Chicago Marathon that is uniquely special to me. My Chicago Marathon story is one of hope and healing and ultimately survivorship and fulfillment.