I ran across this photo of young YaYa and me from many years ago. Those were tough times — yet somehow we found reasons to smile. At least that’s how I remember it.
It seems that there are scientific reasons that support “putting on a happy face” even when you aren’t feeling it. Smiling can calm the nervous system, lower your blood pressure, and boosts your immune system. Furthermore, it’s contagious.
So smile and watch as the whole world smiles with you.
Another year has begun and, with it, plans for more Spartan Races have been set. While last year, it was YaYa who sent me down the path of getting Spartan fit, this year the goal is to support my brother, Robert as he chases his 1st Spartan Trifecta. Lil Sis (Carol), who jumped in with me for my Spartan Beast last year, will be joining us as well.
As you may know, Robert’s first race was the Stadium Sprint at AT&T Park. The event is a good introduction to the world of OCR but in no way compares to the intensity of the races yet to come. It will be a challenge for everyone who takes on these races. Besides the fact that I love my brother, my willingness to stay with him and support him along this journey is because I know that he will do the work (and research) to train appropriately for what is coming his way. In the meantime, I have plenty of work to gain the skills that have tripped me up on my past OCR adventures.
I have been doing my dead hangs, and specifically working on improving grip strength. I am at a new athletic club which has so much more in the way of state of the art strength training equipment as well as a few monkey bar options on which I can practice the skills I need and, more importantly, work on gaining the confidence I need to master them. I have also begun working with a personal trainer who has done an amazing job of listening to what I want from him in order to develop a program to help meet my goals. There is much work to do in the areas I’ve identified with include the development of back strength, forearm, and grip strength, improving ankle and hip stability and mobility, gaining the confidence to traverse the bars, rings and other hanging obstacles while learning to land safely when jumping down and/or falling from them, and overcoming my fear of heights.
There is much work to do and, I realize it cannot all be done effectively in the gym setting. In addition to getting out and running, I need some time working with the walls, and other obstacles. While I have a climbing rope of my own, I am currently limited to a super short climb on it as I haven’t found a high place to hang it from. BoBo and YaYa also gave me a Spartan Training Kit which has the bucket, spear tip, and pancake to work with. It’s a great start but I needed more.
A year ago, BoBo asked me to attend the Holiday Party/Awards Ceremony from his work in Reno, NV. That year, the invitation came too late for me to be able to pull off, so I deferred to the next year (a.k.a. January 2019). The 12 months between events passed rather quickly. In that year, I watched my son put all his energy into his career. Chasing the next promotion, he always seemed to keep his long term goal in mind, foregoing many a late night out that would make it difficult to wake up early the next day. Each week, he would write out his goals and send them to his boss and others as a way of being held accountable. He networked with those whom he admired to inquire on ways to overcome the hurdles he was encountering on his entrepreneurial journey, and acted as a mentor to those who were just learning their way in the business. He did this with admirable consistency throughout the year.
At the meeting this year, when the CEO of the company was describing the recipient of the “consistency” award, I had a hunch that BoBo was the one receiving this award after hearing a minute or two of the introduction. I picked up my phone and began recording the speech – hoping that my hunch was right.
Of course, I was overjoyed when his name was called. Moreover, I was incredibly proud when I heard what my son had to say as he accepted the award. His ability to speak eloquently in accepting the award was excellent. Thanking his superiors for the opportunity, he left everyone motivated to go after their own success. I was in awe at his grace and composure. He certainly didn’t get from me. But I think I know who he did get it from and know that he would be so proud if he were alive to see it.
This past weekend, I completed the Spartan SoCal Beast, and returned home safely with the final puzzle piece (medal) to complete my Trifecta.
Thanks to my posting the collection of photos taken along the way on social media, I almost feel like there is nothing left to say.
As expected, Spartan dished out an über-challenging course. While the ascents were humbling, numerous, and never-ending, it was the descents that brought us to our knees (or butts rather). Apparently the bridge walks I’d incorporated into my training – without really knowing why – had a purpose.
I got to take on a few obstacles I had not experienced in prior races including the Tyrolean Traverse. Additionally, the majority of obstacles which I had encountered before were taken to a new level of difficulty.
Fortunately, Lil Sis and I had the pleasure of navigating the course alongside Jen and George, two seasoned Spartans. Between the four of us, we each took turns overcoming challenges unique to us (e.g. constricted breathing, leg cramps, increased back pain). We also took turns spewing forth expletives. As a result, we each found ways to support one another at various times along the 13+ mile trek (with over 3500 feet elevation gain). George, however, gets the award for literally and repeatedly letting all of us gals walk all over him – in an effort to get over the walls. I clumsily leaped over the Fire Jump at the end and finished with an official time of 8:50:48.
Much like when I crossed the finish line at the Boston Marathon, tears followed. However, at this event I had three amazing humans at my side sharing the joy of this uniquely momentous occasion. I have now earned my Trifecta.
Ronin came into our lives just days before Christmas 2007 (the 1st since Tom’s death). Our lives were in disarray and filled with a void that just couldn’t be filled or ignored. BoBo was acting out and YaYa was having nightmares about him or someone else dying (among other things).
I found myself at the pound with my boys who had begged me to rescue this yellow lab named Chaz that they’d seen on the web. Reluctantly, I agreed; I was willing to try anything that would potentially give them a distracting from the pain and, in BoBo’s case, the world of bad choices. We waited 3 hours just to see him. As it turned out, Chaz was nicknamed “Chaz the Spaze” by the pound folk. He was NOT recommended for families with young children or homes where there wasn’t someone home for the majority of the day.
My decision to see him before turning him down wasn’t my best one; I ended up with a black eye (face vs. paw). All was not lost however. Our 3 hour wait permitted us to check out three dogs. We had already combed the place however we decided to take one last walk through just in case. This was when YaYa noticed a dog that wasn’t in the cages during the 3 hours prior. He had just been released from another area and his paperwork wasn’t even out yet. He was beautiful with a gorgeous black wave to his coat and the most inviting brown eyes that you ever saw. We were immediately won over upon meeting him and went inside to finish off the paperwork.
Our new-dog-to-be was a 10 month old Flat-Coat Retriever named Ronin who, in his short 10 months of life, had three previous owners. It seems that he was given up to the shelter when his original family discovered that they could not handle having a puppy. He was immediately rescued by another family. He later turned up on the streets and, when the folks that rescued him were contacted, they reported giving Ronin to yet another family. And when the next party was contacted, they told the pound that they no longer wanted him. Pretty sad, eh?
I remember looking up information on his breed as well as the meaning of his name when we first brought him home from the pound. A ronin (“drifter” or “wanderer”) was a master less samurai. It’s no wonder he had so many owners at such a young age, I thought. You just shouldn’t name a dog that if you don’t want to tempt fate.
The word ronin literally means ‘wave man’. It is an idiomatic expression for ‘vagrant’ or ‘wandering man’, someone who is without a home.” – Wikipedia
However, we soon got a hint at why he made his last escape. Ronin steered clear of garden hoses and was initially uneasy around most men. It was logical to guess that he’d been beaten.
The initial adjustment period was not easy. Although he was potty trained, he somehow managed to track in his excrement into the house on his hind feathered-fur or paws. He ripped stuffed animals and various items of clothing (including my favorite dress) into smithereens. Being a rather large (80+ pound) puppy, he demanded time of me that I didn’t have. On top of it, he did not hold BoBo’s attention enough to keep him out of trouble. In spite of all that I had on my plate, I found time to take him to obedience training and before long had the amazing family dog that he has been for the last 11+ years.
Did I mention that the American Kennel Club (AKC) website reports the life expectancy of the Flat-Coat Retriever as 8-10 years? Indeed we were blessed to have him for the better part of 12 years.
Without going into the painful details, last week I took our dear Ro to the vet and, after a numerous tests, we had to say good-bye.
