San Diego Flotilla

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Catamaran Resort, San Diego, California 

William

11:40 a.m.

Outside the window a flotilla begins to manifest itself. There are a plethora of different types of flotation water crafts, kayaks, paddle boards, little boats, and they are full of children. It seems that perhaps there is some type of summer camp taking place. They are squealing and shouting and laughing and it looks to be a generally good time. 

In the water there are some older kids that have been tasked with swimming around our boat, arms flailing, feet with flippers kicking, water diamonds skittering and glistening off of their tanned, brown skin, and sunny faces splashing in and out of the water trying to breathe and see, stroke after stroke after stroke. When they are done they run up and down the beach, carrying their flippers, water skittering and dancing all around and off of them and sand blasting up and out from their feet, everywhere. For a child, it seems the perfect summer day.

I turn back to the instructor at the front of the room, he is fully engaged in his lecture on data and data governance. He is an expert in his field, he is passionate about his conversation. I get it. It's good information, but the pull of the window is strong. I look back out.

I almost laugh.

The fleet of kayaks and paddle boards is moving further out into the bay together. It looks fantastic. It really looks like a flotilla of tiny water craft. Yellow, white, orange, green and life jackets and paddles all going in every direction, some more smoothly than others, but all going. I can hear distant howls, cries and laughingThe water sparkles like a mermaid's treasure trove, and I can't hear the cacophony of squawking, laughing children any longer, but there is no doubt that the event continues to be of great joy and excitement.

My ears turn my head back to the he front of the room and the speaker drones on. I mean I feel bad for the guy. It's day three of the data conference and people are starting to be distracted. We are in San Diego which is awesome because it's beautiful here and the weather is great, but no matter how much you love and believe in data it's still...data, and managing data, and governing data, and securing data. The ocean and the sunshine call us and indoors everyone looks like a zombie drooling at the windows. But, like good little adults, we mostly tear our eyes away from the windows and the splashing and the sunshine and we focus on the good gentleman who speaks to us passionately and emphatically about the importance of data.

And so it is that we work to improve our environments, to make something of our jobs, to improve upon what we come into, to learn and to grow...but it doesn't mean we lose the joy or the sunshine. It doesn't mean we should become dour and so hyper serious that we miss the happiness and light that can be found in the unexpected moments and in small upturned faces and crazy flotillas. 

Go out there, learn, work, pursue, but also live in ways that make you happy. Godspeed you joy and love and light.

Push Through. Quest. Seek. My Brother in Man Against Horse

 Me, sister Grace, brother Andy

Post my first half marathon: Zion Half Marathon March 2014

My brother Andy, who I have also referred to as my "Runner Brother Andy" inspires me. His wife Loya is dogmatic and persistent in her support of him. They make a fantastic team. Together, they have led their family into a lifestyle of adventure, fitness, and can-do-it-ism that is impressive and exciting.

In 2011, Andy decided to participate in an Ultra Marathon, a 50-miler called Man Against Horse that takes place in Prescott, Arizona. During this particular year, a documentary called "For 50 Miles" was being filmed. Andy had never run this type of an event before and so this was an exciting, eye-opening challenge, and it was definitely a challenge. 

In talking to my brother since his participation and completion of this event, I have found inspiration in his perseverance, in his push through, and in his quest to finish. He came in last, in the dark, headlamp on, but he finished. There were race obstacles along the way, where he barely missed cut off times so closely that he was able to beg, steal and borrow a continuance onward and push-through purely out of desire,willpower and the support and push of his wife. I don't know why or how the people let him through, but they did. He told me they weren't happy about it, but at this point he was in it to the finish. He met people along the way that helped to pace him and that inspired him.

Mile Post 40: 10 miles from the finish, telling him he couldn't continue

During the course there was pain, and sweat, feet that hurt and knees that ached, blisters and swelling, dirt, wet socks, and a body that somehow pushed through to the end. My brother is a finisher and if given the opportunity to continue, even under duress and uncertainty, he moves forward.

I am proud of my brother. I think he is amazing and he has inspired me onward to doing tough things, things that make dreams and goals and desires come true, things that help me to achieve and excel to new heights I haven't previously dreamed of.

2014: At my first 1/2 Marathon: 13.1 miles: DONE

This chica is a FINISHER

Andy did something tough, something hard. He can do hard things. I did something tough. I can do hard things. WE can do hard things.

Don't give up on the things you want most for what is most convenient or easy in the moment.
Don't shy away from failure or from pursuing difficult things.
Don't be afraid of hard work and training and perseverance.
Do chase the things you are passionate about.
Do seek out to challenge your mind and your body.
Do throw your head to the sky and howl with delight as you move forward and push through and achieve.
Love the life you live. Live the life you love. Become the human being YOU want to become.
You can do hard things, you just have to choose.

In the attached video you'll see Andy and/or Loya at :49, 1:07-1:13, 1:23-1:29, 1:36-1:41; 2:11-2:17.

 

http://youtu.be/XHYveP2jU0c

Andy: One of My Inspirations

Dusk...Skunks...Raccoons

We had a couple of minor adventures on our run tonight. We were late getting out, it was cold and rainy and being inside was more pleasant, but instead of letting the day get away from us we decided to go do what needed doing. We left about 9 p.m. and the clouds had cleared enough to leave us with an amazing pink-clouded sunset with a view all the way out to Antelope Island. 

We got going, chatted, and ran, and walked, and saw a black fluffy bottle brush tail waggling back and forth sticking up out of a hole in the ground. I knew it had to be a little skunk, but was surprised. I pointed it out to an unimpressed Jerel and we gave it a wide berth. Just up ahead a few more paces I saw another fluffy black tail. I thought "REALLY???" and sure enough it was a second skunk. I told Jer it looked like we might be running more than we had anticipated. No worries though, they were so busy digging for grubs that they didn’t pay us any mind, which was fine for the moment, but what about on the way back? The light would be dim at best, the sun had already set. Well, whatever, we’d work it out as needed.

Night truly began to fall and we were going on twilight and moonbeams. Stars began to peek out and in the distance I heard a cow lowing. I loved being outside with the smell of wet hay and grass, cows and water, desert and wildflowers. My mind wandered…to all of the Criminal Minds episodes where people are murdered in the forest or in a wooded park. I regained control of my mind, mostly, and pondered on the delights of nature and how I wished I didn’t know as much as I do about human predators. 

It was dark enough that I was glad that Jerel had a flashlight. I sang out: “The sun has gone down and the moon has come up and long ago somebody left with the cup…He’s going the distance. He’s going for speed. She’s all alone, all alone, in her time of need.” We laughed. We were almost back to the cemetery where the car was…in the dark. Seriously.

Suddenly to my left I heard angry chittering…chittering with teeth, I was instantly on alert. I said “What is that??” and thought possibly raccoons. Jerel said “Sounds like raccoons.” Great. I picked up the pace, I knew that could charge and I didn’t need a lousy little ankle biter chasing me in the dark. The angry, toothy chittering continued, and though I had picked up the pace, it sounded like it was keeping pace. This did not make me happy. I started thinking about rabid zombie raccoons. Finally the noise died back. Jerel mentioned it sounded like they had been keeping pace…so I wasn’t just imagining things.

We got back to the car…unscathed…unsprayed…and thoroughly happy to have gotten another day of running intervals under our belts. Jerel’s parting statement “We need to come out just a little bit earlier…before all the angry mammals come out.” Agreed Jer. Agreed.