Closing Out 2017

The last few months have been hard for my running. In August I was on track to surpass the total miles ran of any previous year. Instead, 2017 is my lowest mileage years. The feelings pervaded all aspects of my life. I avoided social media, even removing apps from my phone. I turned off notifications for all running-related groups. I apologize for not being there for so many good friends. I just couldn't and needed a break. But I had a pretty good year of racing. I improved my time at Vermont 100 by over an hour and placed third. I ran Boston for the fourth year in a row. It was my SLOWEST marathon ever, but I really enjoyed it, more so even than my marathon PR when I first ran from Hopkinton to Bolyston street. And I even made it out west for a race. Miwok 100k near San Francisco in the Marin Headlands was amazing! The views were gorgeous. I didn't finish as fast as I wanted (perhaps I wasn't fully recovered from Boston two weeks prior) but managed to place tenth and have the time of my life. This 100k is definitely my favorite, far better than the difficult, foot-trashing and toe-crushing Ring and Reverse Ring. While we were on our trip out west in September and October, I let go of my goals and tried to enjoy running again. I had missed out on running a few favorite races (The Ring, Women's Half Marathon, TWOT, PB&J 50k, Quest for the Crest 50k, and a couple others) and was scared to race. In Utah, Arizona, and New Mexico, I found some beautiful trails and had fun running up mountains. Also in Arizona, I ran a race that was a memorial to a girl who had died of cancer. This was the tenth and final running of the Run for Rachel that was initially a fundraiser to help with medical bills and get her needed treatment. Winning it outright and beating the young high school kids was definitely satisfying and encouraging.  Running ten miles to the start line was also a huge bragging point. In California, I took pleasure in shattering a few Strava segment records claiming Queen of the Hill whenever and wherever I could. As we finally returned home, the local routes held little appeal. So I focused on gardening and getting our yard and garden ready for the fast-approaching winter. This helped me stay in shape to a small degree, but more importantly, it gave me some needed therapy, fresh-air, and time playing in the dirt.  Pacing a dear friend at her first attempt at the 100-mile distance gave me the opportunity to un-isolate myself and reconnect with dear friends. So now, I feel I am ready. I've signed up for a few races next year that will keep me busy. Boston and Vermont are a given. I need a Hardrock qualifier, so I chose Cruel Jewel - I like me a good challenge. ;) The Yeti 100 sounds awesome, and the sub-24 hour buckle looks amazing! Maybe I'll grab a few "Fat Ass" runs along the way and run those races I've been wanting to for the past few years.

Why Living the Gospel Brings Prosperity and Happiness

The past few months, I've pondered this subject a lot. Often it's during episodes of the Rich Roll podcast. He interviews many interesting, thought-provoking, and fascinating people. And his wife Julie casts a unique perspective on things. Sometimes I wonder if she was Mormon in a previous life because so much of her beliefs line up with mine, except for the reincarnation part anyway.

Anyway, when we think of living the Gospel, and the benefits it brings into our lives, we usually default to the Word of Wisdom. But I believe there are many more blessings that God showers upon us from following his commandments, living our lives according to the tenets of the Gospel, and hearkening to the words of our leaders. When I was frequently attending group therapy, our therapist would have us start each session by checking in. This amounted to sharing how we were feeling physically, emotionally, spiritually, and sexually. These aspects together define the overall, total health of an individual. One could exercise every day with great intensity but by not exercising other aspects of health would eventually become sick, unhappy, depressed. Unbalanced.

Physical Health
Let's start with the Word of Wisdom, but really get into it and not just the alcohol, coffee, and drugs parts. Must discussions skip over the counsel to not eat corn and oats. Or the gun-toting hunters conveniently skip over the part about eating meat sparingly and in winter time.

"What Made [Gracie] Run"

The past few months I've been struggling and haven't felt much like running. In August, I figured out I needed to average 70 miles per week to reach my goal of 3,000 for the year. And I was gung ho and doing it. But then something happened. I don't know what. I just didn't have that spark anymore, I didn't feel like running. Getting up early was impossible - I could never get enough sleep. Sometimes I'd prepare my clothes the night before but still didn't run.

So I gave up on my goal. That alone was a huge relief. But running still pricked at my heart. I turned off all notifications on Facebook that were running related. I removed all running groups from showing up in my news feed. This all helped and continues to help.

I read the book, "What Made Maddy Run" by Kate Fagan.  It chronicles the life and death of an amazing, super-talented track star and soccer athlete.  Maddy played soccer since she was small and was on track to play in college on a scholarship.  Then the last couple years of high school, she tried out track too and excelled.  She committed to playing soccer for a prestigious college but changed her mind and ran for Penn State.  She was excited to start college.
But the excitement didn't last.  She barely made it through the first semester.  She was depressed and unhappy.  She reached out for help with the school's counselors but didn't get what she was needing.  Not long after the second semester, and after much debate with herself and with her family about transferring to another school, she gave up on life and ran off a parking garage.  It was planned and surprised her family and friends.

To Life

Life is interesting. The paths our lives take are interesting. I like pondering how I got to where I am. The many decisions that were made, either by myself or by others that brought me to this very point. So many times at church I have felt the Spirit confirming to me that I am where I am supposed to be. Despite being ignored by our Bishop and made to feel like I'm invisible and a follower of Satan for affirming that I am transgender, this is where I'm supposed to be. This is where I and my family are supposed to be; the hand of God brought us here. Here to this small town in rural America surrounded by gun-totin', evangelical Trump supporters.  The media would, and does, tell us that these people are ignorant, mean, bad people. But as I get to know more and more of our neighbours and fellow members in our church congregation, and they get to know me, I am astounded at their love and acceptance. Their faith, righteousness, charity, love, and desire to follow God inspires me to be a better person. And this is not merely about finding acceptance for being myself, for being transgender, but about the opportunities for each member of our family. We have all thrived here. Things have come together as if by magic to improve our health and happiness. We are closer to the Lord.

2016 in Review

2016. What a year!

Here are the races I ran:
Jan 1, Red Eye Fat Ass (50k), Virginia, 2nd place, 4:40
Reverse Ring (71 mile), 2nd Place, 19:30
April, Boston Marathon, 2:58
July , Vermont 100, 2nd place, 20:
September , Ring, 2nd place, 17:51
October

Father, my Greatest Calling

The past couple weeks I've been seriously considering taking a break from church. Our Bishop ignores me, won't give me a calling or even let me speak or pray. And after he asked me to serve as Sunday school president, he never asked the ward to sustain me in sacrament and called someone else. And yet, in our previous ward, I had my temple recommend, but he won't even meet with me for an interview to renew my temple recommend. He's lied to me and ignored me, and I can't take it anymore. I really feel useless and unwanted. I am out to most of the ward members, and they are mostly accepting. Anyway, I was resolute that I would stay home today, but the deaf sister in our ward accepted my Facebook friend request yesterday and messaged me that she'd see me at church. So I went. And that sister beautifully bore her testimony today. Then the last testimony was from a former bishop of our ward, now a stake presidency counselor, from Samoa. I could really feel his love and Christ's love through him. Then his father-in-law, also a former bishop of the ward, gave the closing prayer, and it felt that he was praying solely for me.

I usually drag myself to priesthood, but today I just sat in the foyer. About halfway through the third hour, a sister from primary brought me our oldest, autistic son. So I kept him with me for a little bit. I heard the primary singing and decided to take him back in and just enjoy the presence of spiritual giants in small bodies beautifully singing. We have another deaf member in our ward, and he missed the primary program from a couple weeks ago (we missed it too since we were gallivanting about all around the country) so they were performing it for him. For every single song, they had one of the older kids signing it for him. That alone broke open the tear ducts. Their last song was one that they all helped write, and the wonderful primary chorister put it to music. It was about feeling the Spirit and loving each other. Truly beautiful. There was no holding back the tears after that! After they finished and had prayer, I thanked the chorister and told her it was beautiful. Then she told me about the song that they wrote, that Gavin (our middle child) had contributed one of the chorus' main lines, to love each other "no matter what". Yeah, a flood of tears upon hearing that...

Throughout my journey and from my many supplications, the Spirit has told me that I was given this male body for the sole purpose of bringing our three boys into this world. For some reason, they needed my DNA as their father. So today, that was reaffirmed in a way. I need to go to Primary with our oldest to help with him. And anyway, RS and priesthood and Sunday school are boring - primary is where it's at. :P That is my calling, whether or not the bishop extends it and has me sustained. That is where I am needed and am supposed to be. That is where I will stand and where I will lift.

It's There, Always There

From the time I wake up in the morning until I go to bed at night it's there, always there.
When I get out of bed it's there.
When I use the bathroom it's there.
When I change clothes it's there.
It's there the entire morning, always there.
It's always reminding me what I am and what I am not.

When I'm brushing my teeeth,
eating a meal,
washing my hands,
playing with my kids,
going on a run,
working on the house or in the garden,
talking with friends,
driving to work,
watching a show,
at the grocery store,
or winding down for the night.
It's there, always there.

Like the oil stain on the driveway,
It's always been there
No amount of scrubbing or tugging makes it go away.
Cause it's there, permanently and inexorably there. Always there

Like the puppy vying for attention,
yelping for love and comfort and play and food.
No amount of love, cuddling,  and nourishment satiates it.
Cause it's there, always there.

Oh, that I could free myself from it!
Break free from it's presence,
from it's constant enslavement.
That is my dream, that it's not there, never there.
Cause it shouldn't be there.

November Project at Lincoln Memorial

My name is Grace. I'm one of those crazy runners who runs ultra marathons (that's any distance beyond the iconic 26.2 miles). I've run 100 miles in under 24 hours. I've also run a few marathons and a bunch of 10 km road races too. Most of my runs and races have been on trails all across this beautiful nation. I've had the immeasurable pleasure of running in the deserts of Arizona, the forests of southern California, the mountains of Utah, national parks and forests of Virginia, the Talladega National Forest in Alabama, and so many more places. Running has shaped a lot of who I am.

I grew up out west and spent more time camping during the summer than not. From Boy Scout camps all over Utah, California, Arizona, Wyoming, Idaho, and Colorado to church camps and family adventures all over the western United States, I spent a lot of my young life outside and treasure our nation's protected parks and forests. I earned my Eagle award and am a Vigil Honor recipient in the Order of the Arrow, scouting's honor society of camping.

In school, I learned about our nation and its history. In elementary, I wrote a report about one of our nation's greatest leaders, Abraham Lincoln. In junior high, I competed on the school's Constitution Bowl team and had the entire Bill of Rights and most of the other Amendments to the Constitution memorized. In high school, I had the opportunity to do an internship with my local state congressman. In freshman English at college, we thoroughly analyzed and discussed Reverend King's infamous speech. How I yearned to go to DC someday to see the Lincoln Memorial, the White House, the Capitol, and so many more of the great landmarks scattered across the district and the general region that I had learned about in school.

After college, I got a job in Arizona working for the US Army. I loved it there and thought I'd never leave but got a job at Fort Belvoir six years later. I couldn't believe it, I was 15 miles from the nation's capital! But I rarely came into the district because of traffic and the hoards of people. My western roots vied for more space.

Then I got a job in DC. I had heard of this group called November Project but was skeptical.  As an ultra runner, I felt that I needed to run at least ten miles a day, and I usually preferred to run alone for personal quiet time. Then a dear ultra runner friend invited me to join about the same time that I started commuting into DC. How could a short half-hour workout help my training!? I came anyway and don't regret the decision. I am a better person and runner because of this group.

I had struggled to find a safe place where people accepted my gender identity without reservation. This amazing group though, did just that. Without batting an eye, they took me in with open arms and a warm embrace, literally. They are living and promoting the Reverend's dream.

In a nation that is struggling to find itself, struggling to connect peaceably with each other, we need more community. In a nation where communities live in fear of being gunned down, we need more open and respectful discussion. In a nation where guns are flying off the shelves in fear, we need more human connection, more hugs, more excitement, more positivity.

For nearly three years, this group has met in the shadows of President Lincoln and also run past the inscription that memorializes where Reverend King stood on that momentous day over fifty three years ago.  

That inscription reads "I have a dream. Martin Luther King, Jr. The march on Washington for jobs and freedom. August 28, 1963." At November Project workouts, everyone is welcome. Everyone gets a hug. Everyone holds hands. Regardless of skin color, religion, age, sex, fitness level, political views, sexual preference or gender identity. Everyone watches the sun as it slowly rises above Washington Monument.  This is November Project!

In the words of Reverend King we invite you to join us, "We cannot walk alone. And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back."