Medievalist Running in Circles

Moving On (to new blog)

2018-07-27T19:05:00.001-04:00

On December 11, 2008, I made my first blog entry on "Medievalist Running in Circles,"

I am almost 2 months into my marathon training, and wanted to share my progress, since now people keep asking how the training is going. I kept diaries on occasion when I was 6, in middle school, and then in college, but I’d like to now keep up a regular writing habit – something I hope will help me write my dissertation someday.

I wrote that toward the end of my first semester of my master's program in medieval history at The Catholic University of America. I had just moved to Washington, D.C. I arrived knowing no one and though I had a general knowledge of and love for medieval history, had yet to embark on my professional training as a historian.

From that first post, I ultimately wrote 493 posts over the course of almost a decade. My posts hit on a variety of topics, ranging from debuting in the marathon, to facing a diagnosis of Celiac Disease, to running in the Boston Marathon in 2010 and 2011, to getting engaged, to the various steps of writing the dissertation, ultimately culminating to defending my dissertation and earning my Ph.D.

But now I'm working on something much bigger, but without this blog, it wouldn't have come together.

I'm writing a book! While the majority of my doctoral program was spent writing my dissertation on the voice of the Virgin Mary in the later Middle Ages, I also kept up with this blog. Although I wasn't running as much in those later years of the program, I was keeping notes about the writing process, and the various obstacles I faced, both internally and externally. After graduating, I could see how these stories fit together in a larger narrative.

It's a Marathon, Not a Sprint: Lessons Learned on the Road to the Marathon and Ph.D will tell the story of a young woman who, in the process of becoming a medieval historian, realized that running could serve as an effective tool to vanquish imposter syndrome and anxiety. Although both challenges may seem to be in stark opposition to one another, they share a lot in common, and both require overcoming significant mental roadblocks.

There will be parts of the book that connect more with writers and students: other sections will resonate with runners and other athletes. The advice I’ve received and lessons I’ve learned along this journey translate into both sectors. But I hope that the larger message of this book will resonate those who are taking on any new challenge: whether it’s going to school, taking up a sport, starting a new job, beginning a family, or any other endeavor that at times seems insurmountable.

While I'm working to get this book off the ground, I'll be writing over at VanessaRoseCorcoran.WordPress.com The story I started as "The Medievalist Running in Circles" has come to an end, but I'm looking forward to the next chapter ahead. Thank you for reading this blog. It's been a great journey, and I hope you'll follow me over to WordPress to follow the new one.

The Fear of Complacency/Something to Be Proud of

2017-10-22T15:51:00.003-04:00

I haven’t written a blog post in many months. There are a few explanations for this, but after some careful reflection, I think there are some deeper reasons for the lack in writing.

I started a full-time job in August at my alma mater. While I worked throughout my graduate education, I never had a full-time job year round. It’s been an adjustment getting used to the new schedule. I’m not running and exercising as much. If I manage to squeeze that in after work, by the time I get dinner on the table, and the laundry is put away, there isn’t much time or energy left to do anything else, especially writing.

I had an accident in September: I wiped out 2 blocks from home after a 5 mile run and lacerated the skin above my lip, needing 5 stitches. It was pretty painful. While I had a bloody nose and bruised knees (and ego), I didn’t hit my head or break anything. But it has definitely spooked me a bit, and while I managed to eke out a 10 mile run yesterday, that was enough of a struggle at a moderate pace.

But if I’m really honest, I think my silence can be explained by an underpinning desire.

I want to write about something I’m proud of.

I think my 3:27 marathon PR at Boston and my Ph.D. have a lot in common. They represent achievements that took place after years of hard work. I was beyond thrilled when both of them happened, as they represented the culmination of so much time and effort. But I used to think that achieving each of these goals, would cause unceasing satisfaction.

I used to not understand why elite athletes, who, after medaling in the Olympics, would commit to another four years of training, in hopes of winning another medal. Didn’t they already have the crown jewel? What else could they be searching for? Why would they spend so much time, blood, sweat, and tears, working to vanquish another seemingly-insurmountable conquest?

The fear of complacency is real, I’ve learned. I’m just 6 months out from earning my doctorate, and while it represented the culmination of so much work, I’ve come to realize in the past couple of months, that I don’t want it to be the end all for me. My work is not done yet.

For right now, I need to let running be on the back burner. I need it regularly to keep me sane (and to combat the effects of sitting at a desk all day), but it’s not reasonable for me to dream of races and PRs in the near future. My work there isn’t done yet, but it’s on pause for now.

But I have a couple of other big goals that I need to put out there, at least for a sense of accountability. But, like the Ph.D., they are not going to be achieved overnight. They require going back to the drawing board, and recommitting to spending downtime in front of a laptop.

I want to write 2 books.

Whoa, 2?! Why not just aim for 1? That seems hard enough as it is.

I have two books I want to write, both of which already exist in their early stages.

1 is my dissertation. I received my bound version of it over the summer, and seeing it presented “like a book” furthered my desire to take the academic project I worked on for years, and turn it into an accessible book that more people, beyond those on my committee (and my mom – who has already read it) could want to read. I need to do more research, as there are a couple of (unwritten) chapters that would really help round out the project. I even met with a few of my old professors this week and received both advice and encouragement on tackling this project yet again. That’s Book 1.

Book 2 is going to come out of this blog. Since I started it in 2008, I’ve written a lot about running and writing, and how my journey into marathon running ultimately made me a better student. With hundreds of posts written, there is already a narrative in place about these twin journeys. For the past year, I’ve been combing through the blog, reviewing and editing old posts, as well as adding in some transitions to fill in some of the gaps where I put writing on hold. I already know that people read the blog with some regularity, so surely some of the same people would read my story in book form. I have to admit, part of this inspiration came from seeing my friend, Elizabeth Clor, experience such success in her book, Boston Bound. She utilized a similar approach, writing from her blog, and transformed it into a fascinating and popular book. If I could achieve half of her success, I’d be thrilled beyond belief. That’s Book 2.

Frankly, I think working on both projects can benefit each other. One of the things I really liked about writing the dissertation was that there were enough parts to it, that if I got tired of working on one section, I could move to another. I’m starting to feel the itch to tackle both projects in earnest. I need to reactivate my writing skills and retrain my brain to get back in the habit of writing regularly, both in formally and informally.

I was going back through the journal I kept in college, and found the following statement my freshmen year at Holy Cross, dated November 23, 2004:

I think I’m going to get my doctorate in history and become a history professor.

I feel like I owe it to that wide-eyed, hopeful 18 year-old student, to see these projects to the finish. The Ph.D. was not just an end: it also marked the beginning to the next great adventure.

On Patience in Running and Graduate School

2017-05-27T15:48:00.001-04:00

Confession: I'm not a patient person. When I was about 7, my Girl Scout Troop made Christmas presents around the first week of December, and I could not wait to give my tiny little tree to my mom, and pleaded with her to let me give it to her early (I think, after much convincing, she got me to change my mind and hold off on giving her this little homemade craft). If any sort of notification of a job or application is due to arrive on a particular day, I repeatedly refresh my e-mail. I remember when AP exam scores were due to arrive by July 1 at the earliest, I'd listen for the mail truck to come around the block, and then hustle out the door each day until the scores finally arrived.

Patience is a virtue, but it is also quite difficult to maintain. People are praised for responding quickly to things and being go-getters: those who know how to hustle and follow up. But the flip side to that ambitious drive ought to be some patience, which is easier said than done. And a lack of patience can be quite detrimental. In a distance race, if you're not patient and go out too fast at the beginning of a marathon, you'll inevitably hit the wall and all of that hard work will go up in a cloud of smoke. Many of the speed workouts I used to do on the track were designed to teach me patience. By doing mile repeats at ascending pace (i.e. Mile 1 7:00 Mile 2 6:53 Mile 3 6:45 Mile 4 6:37 Mile 5 6:30), patience was paramount to a successful workout. If I went out too fast at the beginning, it could wreck the rest of the workout. I'd have to regroup and try again. But because I consistently was assigned workouts like this, that rewarded patience, I learned from the exercise and became a smarter runner as a result.

Facebook's "On This Day" feature reminded me of two opposite experiences that happened on this day: four years apart.

For a little context, particularly on the 1st note. I remember this so vividly. It was my goal during Summer 2012 to hone in on a dissertation topic so I could develop and successfully pass my dissertation proposal. I had been circling around a topic and started to feel excited about it when the semester ended. I had a few books and sources that I knew were valuable, and I set to work. I was so stoked to actually begin the process in earnest: I had already produced about 10 pages of free-writing while I was at home visiting my family.

Then, I remembered that my advisor and other professors suggested keeping tabs on recent scholarship by searching a particular database that published information about history dissertations. And then, I discovered an old dissertation that discussed similar ideas that I had, using similar sources, and employing a similar methodology. I immediately burst into tears. I was at home, all alone, and I picked up the phone and called my dad. I felt so defeated and disappointed. This is so hard! How am I ever going to come up with a unique topic? This is medieval history - people have been writing about this for so long - what will I ever have to say about it that is new and interesting? Why am I doing this?

I probably wasn't that articulate in the moment, and beyond assuring words of love and constant support, there wasn't going to be anything my dad said that would change my gut reaction.

Disappointed, after a day or so of pouting/mourning/venting, I e-mailed my advisor that the first bout of progress had been derailed, and that I hoped to report back later in the summer with some progress. She wrote back with some words of assurance, signing off, "Vanessa, your reading will not be in vain."

Not in vain. I held onto that phrase and repeated it like a mantra for months. Not in vain as I went to the library for new books. Not in vain as I re-read sources, looking for a new angle. Not in vain as I sat down at the computer, trying to get in a page of writing. I needed patience at this moment, to realize that there would be payoff down the road for this labor, and that the setback was really a set-up for the next phrase of my graduate career.

It took months of work to finally hone in on the topic that would ultimately provide the framework for my dissertation. It didn't appear out of nowhere in an instant: it was a long time of working through ideas.

The mantra not in vain has also come into play as I've sought to improve my running and return to running after time off. No comeback of any kind is every easy or instantaneous, but requires both patience and persistence.

A lot can happen in four years, as those two Facebook posts reminded me. And just a year after the second, I've finished grad school and am again learning patience as I work towards the next goal.

Post Ph.D. Race - Capitol Hill Classic 10k

2017-05-22T19:22:00.000-04:00

To say the least, all of my eggs have been in the Ph.D. basket, particularly since last fall, when it became evident that I could definitely finish and defend my dissertation during the Spring 2017 semester. With that in mind, virtually everything else has been put on hold or just received lower priority. All eyes were on Operation Endgame, and the majority of my time and energy went toward achieving that goal. This meant things like diet and training received less priority. While I was finishing my dissertation, I tapped into running to find sanctuary and sanity, but nothing more.

And now that I'm done (yes, it's official - I graduated last Saturday and the School of Arts and Sciences conferred my degree), it's time to start looking ahead in many different ways. Most specific to the blog, I’d like to get back into race-shape, and down the road (maybe in 2018?), consider a return to the marathon. But that takes time and requires a long, concerted effort to get there.

So, without any special training, and with my mileage hovering around 30 miles per week, including a 10-11 mile long run on the weekend, I signed up for the Capitol Hill Classic 10k, a race I’ve always wanted to do, but for scheduling reasons, have never been able to. I knew it would be a hilly course, and I still had in my head my last race (another 10k that I ran in February, during which I felt so sluggish). So, what was I shooting for? At minimum, breaking 50 minutes and getting that shadow off my back, and ideally, running around 45 minutes (about 7:15 pace) would signal some progress. It’s my hope that this summer, I can spend more time running and training, so this race could be a great way to set me up for summer.

I have to recommend this race to anyone in the DC area. The Capitol Hill area is beautiful, and all of the proceeds benefit the Capitol Hill Cluster School, a DC public school with over 1,000 students. It is definitely a local race that runs through neighborhoods, and it was fun seeing families out on their front stoop, and people out enjoying their Sunday mornings. There were also a number of great political/DC signs, including “I just got off the phone with Russia – you won!” “You run better than the government!” and my personal favorite, “Run like you’re under investigation!” There was great music playing before the race, and despite all of the chaos on Pennsylvania Ave, everyone was out to have fun.

I realized running the first mile in about 7:00 flat that that pace was too fast, so I pulled back ever so slightly. And the course was so crowded (over 2,000 runners), that dialing back was probably the right decision – just let people run out and then, do what I like to do best, chase people later on. The second mile was about 7:35 and I started to feel much better. The weather was perfect (60 and overcast, with a slight breeze), and it was just great taking a beautiful day. We then ran past RFK stadium and through this paved trail. Then between miles 3 and 4, we ran past an all-female drum line, and few things can ramp me up during a race than live music, particularly with such a steady beat. I finally felt like I was at a good pace, and got to hone in on passing people, one runner at a time. For me, this turns a race into a game, and the ability to focus in on one person makes the time go by and adds extra incentive to push throughout. I hit the 5-mile mark at about 36-37 minutes, and knew that I had about 10 minutes left, and with that in mind, started to go harder and harder, and as we reached the mile 6 mark, the crowds picked up with their intensity. Making the last turn brought back an old and thrilling feeling, and I had a smile on my face as I crossed the line in 45:24 (7:18 pace). I was 189/1933 overall, 22/1014 women, and 12/451 in my age group.

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Woo! This was great. I felt great throughout the race, and now feel so psyched to put some more races on the calendar, and get into some intentional, scheduled training.

Find Your Tribe

2017-05-07T23:54:00.000-04:00

With the Ph.D. in the rearview mirror, I've been thinking about what I've learned along the way (beyond the specifics of medieval history). Yes, there are organizational skills I picked up, and certainly writing tips that I've accrued along the way, but there are other life hacks that, looking back, were absolutely instrumental to finishing school.

Find your tribe.

No one is an island and writing a dissertation can often be a very lonely, solitary endeavor. And while your name is at the top of the ticket, a support group or community of family and friends is absolutely important to navigating through the highs and lows of graduate school. There are different kinds of relationships that you'll need to tap into: each will bring something different to the table (and hopefully you'll, in turn, bring something different to support that relationship).

One of my best friends is a stay-at-home mom of 2 kids under age 3. On the surface, our lives look very different. My dissertation days are often very quiet, and the writing days were filled with limited opportunity for human conversation and interaction. Her days at home with the kids are often hectic, noisy, and are filled with limited opportunity for adult conversation and interaction. It used to feel counterintuitive to call her to vent about my writing struggles, when compared to hers, mine were minor and significant. But we were both looking to step outside of our small, isolated worlds, and while I couldn't understand the difficulties of children teething, and she couldn't quite relate to the headaches involved with revising a chapter, we could commiserate. These check-ins were often a lifeline, I think for both of us. Talking on the phone, even for just 20 minutes mid-afternoon, removed us from our lonely silos and gave each of us a breather.

Another of my dearest friends was my roommate for two years during grad school, and she finished her Ph.D. the year before I did. We had different research interests, different advisors, enough differences to separate us that we didn't have to compete with each other. Yet, we were able to push each other and challenge each other. On weekends and in the summer, we'd meet, laptops out, come up with a game plan for our writing session, and get to work. Watching her finish so successfully gave me the motivation to keep pushing. Moreover, she became a confidante towards the end - I needed support from someone who had reached the final benchmark and could truly understand and answer some of my questions about Operation Endgame.

Of course, I also relied extensively on my family: specifically, my husband and my parents. They all offered the day-to-day support I needed unconditionally. I can't put into words how important they were to this process. Again, all part of the tribe.

I had to learn a lot about myself and my writing habits and style along the way, but I also had to learn about creating a supportive environment, and that's where the tribe comes in.

I've found my tribe and they were absolutely instrumental in graduate school. Now, it's time to thank them and lend the ear that they were so willing to offer me.

When to Ask for (Writing) Help in Graduate School

2017-05-03T21:55:00.000-04:00

In grad school, reading for class, comprehensive exams, and for my dissertation was my favorite thing. I've been an avid reader since I was little, and the opportunity to sit down with interesting books was one of the major selling points of graduate school. Even when professors had assigned multiple books to read per week, or as my comps lists required 100+ books of reading, these were challenges I relished taking on.

Writing has been another story. I love to write - this blog is proof of that. And of course, I wouldn't have signed onto a Ph.D. program, knowing that 200+ pages of writing would be a necessary product of my education, if I wasn't passionate about writing. But writing can be difficult, and my early years of graduate school were spent slogging through writing assignments. It was hard to not take the comments personally - I remember one remarked that my writing was "baggy" and it took years to shake that. But, through returning to the keyboard again and again, I made progress, and made it successfully through the dissertation proposal.

But there was a moment during the dissertation writing process where it was clear that just because some sections of my dissertation were well-received, this was not universal, and I was urged to go back to the drawing board. This was excruciatingly painful: it was upsetting to see that I hadn't made as much progress as I had hoped. I feared this was a tipping point and a clear indication that I could wash out of graduate school without finishing the dissertation. But after a few days of wallowing (and yes, it was full-fledged wallowing: many tears while curled up in the fetal position), I knew I needed help. I couldn't just stubbornly push my way through this barrier alone. If I wanted to really achieve a break-through and ensure that I would eventually finish my dissertation, I needed to reach out to those who think about critical writing for a living.

I made an appointment to see Dr. Kevin Rulo, the director of our university's Writing Center. We worked through the main critiques of my chapter and together, brainstormed a plan for moving forward. This tipping point ultimately resulted in one of the great academic collaborations of my graduate education. Not knowing me that well, not knowing my subject matter all that well, but with a background that equipped him to effectively critique dissertations, Dr. Rulo would help me work on tweaking thesis statements and help me work through new ways to conceptualize the organization of a particular chapter. For an hour once a week (off and on - I think we met about 10 times), we'd talk and go back and forth on particular segments. I would only bring 3 pages to him at a time, but we would get a lot of mileage out of those 3 pages over the course of an hour. But more than that, we'd explore ideas for additional segments of each chapter and work carefully to tighten up my argument. These were rich, fascinating conversations that pushed my writing (and progress forward).

There is no shame in asking for help.

Let me repeat that it again, because I've had to assure myself of that many times.

There is no shame in asking for help.

A few years ago, I would've been embarrassed to admit that I was working with a professor in the Writing Center. Shouldn't I, as a Ph.D. candidate, be prepared to fly/write solo? No! Professors asks their colleagues to look over book chapters and article drafts. Writing is never an entirely solo endeavor. To expect good writing to emerge when written in a vacuum is futile: asking for criticism and feedback is a natural part of the process.

There is a popular saying: "a setback is a setup for a comeback," and I found this to be applicable in this instance. It's easier to say that in hindsight. But ultimately, by choosing to lean into the challenge, instead of running away from it, and working through the issues that had held my writing back, ultimately made my dissertation better. It loosened the knots that threatened to slow my progress, and instead, offered a sense of clarity that I longed for.

There is no shame in asking for help and that's clearer to me now. Asking for help and leaning into the challenges helped me earn those 3 precious letters: Ph.D.

The End of an Era: Defending the Dissertation

2017-04-20T20:43:00.002-04:00

After I ran my first Boston Marathon in 2010, I mused in my blog: What is pure joy? Can it be bottled and preserved forever? Maybe not. But pure joy can be found at the Boston Marathon.

That question encapsulated an important moment in my life, one based on achievement, that would take on new meaning as I earned my doctorate.

In the six marathons I've run so far, the marathon itself always manifested itself as a victory lap: a multi-hour celebration/endurance challenge after months of hard work. My advisor, and many other professors and Ph.D. recipients who had gone before me, framed the defense as another victory lap. They described the defense (a two-hour oral examination with six professors) as an opportunity for a great discussion and conversation, and to enjoy the fact that six people had carefully read my 315 page dissertation. I never quite believed them when they said it would be enjoyable - how is a two-hour exam enjoyable? Maybe they didn't remember how their own defenses panned out - surely they had forgotten the difficult questions and the gradual tightening of the screws throughout the exam.

In the week leading up to the defense (the taper, as it were), while there were the occasional small bouts of nervousness, but I felt pretty relaxed. I had worked on my talk, and prepared responses to many questions I thought were fair game, but overall, I felt really good. The day before the exam, time moved so slow, but again, still felt really relaxed. I went on a sunset run, listening to Katy Perry's Rise.

Oh, ye of so little faith
Don't doubt it, don't doubt it
Victory is in my veins
I know it, I know it
And I will not negotiate
I'll fight it, I'll fight it
I will transform

It was 75 degrees out - but I got chills (literally - it's a very strange sensation to get goosebumps while sweating) listening to the lyrics. And in moments like that, you can tell something special is about to happen.

Until about 10PM. It was as if someone flipped a switch, and the reality of the situation set in. Adrenaline started to flow, and it made for a rough night with not enough sleep. The morning of, I set out for a 5 mile run, hoping that as usual, it would disperse pent-up nerves. Usually, I can shake out those worries a few minutes into a run, but not on Defense Day. It was a 45 minute run, and it wasn't until about 42 minutes in, with just a few blocks to go, that knot in my stomach and shortness of breath finally disappeared, thankfully. And with the worry gone, I set off to get cleaned up and ready for the big day.

I love my campus, and because my defense was at 9AM, getting to campus early meant some quiet time to myself, including at the chapel of Our Lady of Perpetual Help (whom I've called upon throughout all of graduate school) within the National Basilica. After a few final moments of prayer and quiet, I headed to the conference room for my exam, arriving at the same time as my advisor.

"Breathe. Relax," my professor said. I smiled and tried to not say to much that would betray any sense of confidence I was trying to display. The professors filtered in, and as I suspected, once the curtain went up and it was showtime, I would be ready to go. The defense began with me opening with a 20 minute overview of my project, which I had practiced every day for the past week. As I was laying out the parameters of my project, it felt as routine and rhythmic as a regular run - the muscle memory was there. While I was talking, I tried to look around and make eye contact with each professor, and as I caught the eye of my advisor, I realized she was smiling.

I nearly melted. Oh, this is going to be okay. I realized at that moment, this wasn't a smile of encouragement, but one of pride. My advisor has known me since I was 22 and a brand-new student, who arrived to CUA with a lot to learn. I still have ways to go, but this was a moment that reflected positively on her as much as it did about me - this was our journey. So I tucked that feeling in my pocket and continued on until I got my cue to wrap up my opening statement.

The second part of the defense consists of each professor getting a short segment for questions, beginning with the advisor, and then going around the room. Before she launched into her first question, my advisor opened by saying, "First of all, Vanessa, I want to commend you on this project. In your exploration of Mary's voice, you introduced us to this fascinating topic..."

Okay, this is going to be okay. Everyone is on board. This is actually going to happen.

And then the Q&A session ensued. I went up to "the buzzer" with each question, meaning that I gave substantive answers (I was really worried about being too short with responses), and as a result, it went by really fast. It was an exercise in mental gymnastics, and the faculty were offering different questions to see how I could respond. After the last professor got his question in, I was sent in the hall for them to deliberate. "Go for a walk - it'll be a few minutes. We have some paperwork to fill out."

Ok, the rational side of me knew that everything was fine. The committee wouldn't have scheduled the defense if they thought I would fail - failure would be a reflection on the department. I knew that there was a reception scheduled in my honor in about 20 minutes - they wouldn't have ordered cake and champagne if they thought it would be a bust. But until the door opened, I wouldn't actually believe it. Tick tock. Tick tock.

Finally, the door opens, and my advisor walks out with a big smile, uttering the words I'd been longing to hear and working towards all of these years:

"Congratulations, Dr. Corcoran."

The smile says it all: me and my advisor

And just like that, it was all over. All of those years of classes, reading, writing, exams, studying, crying, praying, going back to the drawing board, wondering, worrying, hoping that it would happen - a whirlwind of experiences and emotions manifested in a dream come true.

There was a small reception, and the rest of the day was spent with friends and family, on the phone and in person: just exchanges of pure joy. It's hard to believe that one era is coming to a close, and another one (TBD) is about to begin.

It's been just over a week since I finished, and I'm still in a state of disbelief/relief/overjoyed. It's hard to put it into words. Although so many people made the comparison of the dissertation to a marathon, the build-up to any marathon was 4-5 months. If you've lost track of the timeline:

2008 - Graduated college, moved to DC to start master's program in medieval history
2009 - First marathon
2010 - First Boston Marathon, Finished master's degree, started Ph.D. program
2011 - Finished coursework, Passed doctoral comprehensive exams
2012 - Reached ABD status (all but dissertation - you have 5 years to finish), started dating my husband, started teaching and researching my topic
2013 - Teaching, my dissertation proposal was approved, and we got engaged
2014 - Research/writing, got married
2015-2016 - Writing, revising, teaching
2017 - Defended

And throughout, I had these lyrics from Smash "They Just Keep Moving the Line:"
So I made friends with rejection
I've straightened up my spine!
I'll change each imperfection
Till it's time to drink the wine!
I'd toast to resurrection
But they just keep moving the line!
Please give me some direction,
'Cause they just keep moving the line!

It took a long time, but I finished right on time. A few statistics were always weighing on my mind:

The average student takes 8.2 years to slog through a PhD program and is 33 years old before earning that top diploma.
Only about 57 percent of doctoral students will get their PhD within 10 years of starting.

I've never worked so long or so hard for something. My mentor from Holy Cross sent me a congratulatory e-mail, which included the following:

You have worked so hard for this and overcome challenges and obstacles, that I know were tough at the time but which have made you stronger and more able.

And she's right. This was an uphill battle, but to stand at the top, to look back and to see how I've gotten here, had been a wonderful feeling. It's the end of an era, and I'd also be remiss if I didn't thank all those involved. As I shared in a Facebook post last week:

I'm so incredibly thankful and grateful to all of my family, friends, classmates, and professors who supported me professionally and personally throughout this marathon endeavor. It was truly a joy today to discuss my project after years of research, writing, and revising. This was a labor of love, and while my name is on the front page, it was a project supported by so many people near and dear to my heart. Thank you.

And once more, for the cheap seats in the back - thank you.

The hay is in the barn: standing at the .2 of graduate school

2017-03-30T09:19:00.001-04:00

When I used to run marathons, reaching the taper meant "the hay is in the barn:" all of the intense training was done, and it was just a couple of weeks of maintenance before the big day. It was always so exciting to get through the "monster month" of training: a time of high mileage and intensity. The monster month was the point when everything came together, and getting through it meant slamming the door on the hard part. When they ha was in the barn, it meant recovering from the intensity and trying to get the body geared up so that on race day, you felt fresh and ready to go.

The hay is in the barn. I am defending my dissertation on April 12th, and have submitted the written dissertation to my committee. No more edits. I've written, edited, revised, thrown out the bad parts, cleaned up the prose, and had it vetted by four professors. The only thing standing in front of me graduating in May is a two-hour oral defense, in which my committee and two outside examiners will ask me to discuss my research. I'm pinching myself, mainly because the dream of getting a Ph.D., one that I've had since 2004, during the first semester of my freshman year at the College of the Holy Cross, is about to become a reality.

Decades of a life-long education is coming to a conclusion before my eyes. Yes, I know, those who love to learn never stop learning. But the daily rigors of school: of writing, studying, meeting with professors, all of that is almost over. And I'm keenly aware of of the "lasts" that have been coming up.

On Tuesday, I had my last meeting with my advisor - the last time I'd seek her out as my professor. We met in 2008, when I was 22 and bright-eyed, both optimistic and terrified. We chatted yesterday about the parameters of the defense: what to prepare for and things to think about in the coming weeks. She asked how I was feeling, now that I had submitted the written product. "To be honest," I said, "It may not be polite to say, but I feel pretty good." I don't say that out of arrogance, but rather, the department only lets you defend when they are truly convinced that you're ready. They put all of these hurdles up, and if you can get through them without knocking them down, it's game time. So, yes, I have a lot of work to do to prepare, but it's game time. The two hours of the defense will certainly be challenging (and yes, there are lots of butterflies), but I'm also excited for the big day. I have a countdown on my calendar, and as the days slip by, the anticipation builds.

I'm at the .2 of graduate school, but really, I'm about to toe the line of the big race and trading in my racing flats for heels.

Less than 2 weeks to go, and lots of fluttering.

When there is a bigger race ahead: Race for Equal Justice 10k

2017-02-26T11:55:00.001-05:00

Every year for the past few years, my New Year's resolutions have largely been tied to something with graduate school: finish master's program, pass Ph.D. comps, get proposal approved, write X amount of chapters, etc. This year, the resolution is to finish the dissertation and graduate. There were no running goals, frankly, no other life goals: just eyes on the prize. Running has been a coping mechanism: a way to clear my head after writing and rewriting, staring at the computer and trying to figure out the best way to articulate my argument. Getting some fresh air and the chance to let my brain wander is not just a reward for getting some good work done earlier in the day, but a necessity to ensure that more productive hours will follow.

I'm really close to defending. My advisor has read my entire draft, and after those revisions, I've submitted the revised version to my committee. I can count on one hand the number of steps left until the defense. Once I receive feedback from the rest of the committee and make those changes, I'll be ready to defend. Stating that unequivocally or without hesitation feels a bit strange, because so often (despite my mom's insistence), the finish line has felt unattainable. But at this point, unless I implode in the next six weeks, the dream will become a reality. And to be honest, the past few months, everything leading up to the finish, have been some of the happiest moments of graduate school. Instead of confusion and doubt, there's been clarity and encouragement.

But because I'm competitive in nearly all aspects of life, it's hard for me to put any sort of racing completely on the back burner. After all, I did get my half marathon PR in September amid a lot of writing. So, I signed up for the GWU Law School Race for Equal Justice 10k. Very low stakes race on Haines Point: a course I've ran on at least 15 times. I've finally gotten my mileage over 30 miles per week consistently, with long runs going up from 10 miles to 15 miles last weekend. I hadn't really done much speed prep beyond trying to push hard in the last few miles of a long run. But I hoped that muscle memory would kick in, and that shooting for about 45 minutes was a reasonable goal (maybe even faster than that).

To say I was humbled and brought back down to earth is putting it mildly. My first mile was 7:15, and the way it felt seemed closer to 6:15 pace. It was a race in which every mile felt tougher than the next. For comparison, I ran my half PR in September at 7:02 pace, in which the first 10 miles where at 7:00 pace consistently, and then I slowed down by about 10 seconds per mile. During that race, I felt so in control. During this race, I watched people pass me effortlessly, while my legs failed to respond. I finished in 50:08 - my second slowest 10k ever (second only to my 10k debut in 2008). And I was spent - not like finishing a marathon or PR, but clearly just not at the level I'm used to performing at.

But as I was running, for nearly the entirety of the race, as my pace continued to slow down with each subsequent mile, I had the following thoughts running through my head: This doesn't matter, what matters is that you've been throwing all of your energy into finishing. The race you're chasing after is much bigger than anything you'd encounter on the roads. Your time is well-spent writing. And yes, you're competitive and your running friends are out there running faster, but you're seeking a different kind of PR (a Dr.)

So, while the stubborn and competitive person in me finished feeling a bit stubborn and dejected, I had already found perspective and had my eyes turned on the bigger race (race date TBD - stay tuned).

When The Boss Says to Put Work on Pause: Pushing Aside the Cloud

2017-01-14T21:48:00.003-05:00

When a boss, or in my case, my advisor gives a recommendation, I'm usually quick to take it. Usually this has to do with working on my prose, consulting additional sources, or other pieces of advice designed to further the progress of my project. But a week before I turned in my draft last month, I received a suggestion that was counter to her usually recommendations:
Once you submit this, do not look at it for several weeks. Do not be tempted to go through it, but give yourself permission to set this aside. At this point, you're so close to the project that you now need to create some distance between you and it. Don't think about it over the holidays, and that way, when I give you feedback in January, you're looking at your writing with fresh eyes.
For the past few years, if we've chatted, most likely you've seen me look like this. Bright-eyed, with at least some attempt of looking put-together, and usually with a smile. And usually, in my daily life, that was at least a partially-accurate interpretation. But my interior reaction to the writing process has often felt more like this:

For better or for worse, the dissertation has followed me quite closely for the past few years. I didn't think about it on our wedding day, and there have been a few other days over the years (my brother's wedding too) when it's been pushed aside, but typically for at least part of each day, the dissertation hovers like a cloud. Some of it is nagging guilt (You should be writing), other times it stems from well-meaning questions about my progress (So, how's your thesis? When do you think you'll finish? It sure takes a while, huh?). I don't know if other people experience a similar feeling, or if people in different lines of work feel the same way, but that inner cloud followed me for a lot of the writing process.
It was only a few months ago that the cloud started to shrink. I think part of it had to do with watching it all come together, part of it was the positive feedback I was receiving, and another part was the realization that the dream was truly en route to becoming a reality.
I didn't touch the dissertation for 22 days. My husband and I went on a lovely vacation to St. Michaels, MD, where for a week, we relaxed, lounged, celebrated, and truly decompressed. No alarm clocks were set, no schedules were made, the only requirement was fun.

It was amazing. I remember even when we went on our honeymoon, there was a little bit of the dissertation cloud (just the tiniest bit), but the cloud finally abandoned its location over my head. If someone (I was at an academic conference during the final days of the 3 week break) asked about my dissertation, an internal knot did not form in my stomach. Nor were my words carefully couched, told with a forced smile and feigned optimism. I could feel the genuine optimism and sincere excitement as I updated any inquirers, "Yes, I turned in the full thing!" "It looks like if everything goes right, I'll defend in the spring!"
And when the first round of feedback came in this past Monday morning, I tackled it with excitement. To clarify, it's not like I was sitting there grinning as I waded through the necessary corrections - that would be slightly insane. But there was an enthusiastic intensity to my work, and yes, a degree of excitement as I pursued through some articles and book chapters, finally having the time to dive into some of the broader issues surrounding my project.
There will still be moments of doubt and anxiety in the coming months - I'm pretty sure about that. However, that larger cloud has been pushed aside, and I'm looking forward to taking on these final busy months like this.

Putting Operation Endgame into Action

2017-01-12T15:19:00.003-05:00

I can point to one simple reason why my blogging fell by the wayside, yet again, in the final months of 2016. I had written a very exuberant blog post about how Operation Endgame was in motion, and then proceeded to focus on reaching the first milestone in that part of the dissertation marathon.

Then, I was in the middle of writing my final body chapter of the dissertation, and in an effort to relieve my brain from the single focus of that chapter (which felt so tedious to write – it was the chapter about which I was the least confident), I started to tackle the introduction and conclusion as well. To me, one benefit of the nature of the dissertation is that different components of it require different aspects of your brain. On the surface, it is a day-in, day-out grind, but truly, as one part overtaxes your mind, you can relieve some of the pressure by turning to a different section, until your brain has recovered enough to return to that previous roadblock.

Mid-November, I submitted that final chapter, and with just over a month to go, took to revising the old chapters and bringing together the big ideas into the project’s beginning and ending chapters. I had received enough encouraging feedback to feel galvanized and energized for this homestretch of 2016. All of the thoughts that had been swirling around in my head about the project as a whole, which previously were relegated to an ongoing Word document, finally had a proper place in the wrapping and packaging of the project. And with the exception of Thanksgiving break, during which I happily set my writing aside to be home with my family, I wrote, revised, and threw myself into getting the full draft ready for submission.

There have been times when the writing process has brought me to my knees. Sometimes in prayer, sometimes in tears, sometimes in frustration, but it has been an endeavor that I’ve participated in my whole body. There have been physical pains, emotional highs and lows, spiritual moments (almost a given as a Catholic writing about devotion to the Virgin Mary), mental anguish and intellectual triumphs, but it’s been a labor of love, full stop. But it was also my hope that as I raced toward the finish line, the memories I would carry with me of those final months would be filled with mental stimulation and motivation.

And during that monster month, that’s exactly what happened. I worked every weekend (save Thanksgiving), and many evenings were editing, and although it was exhausting, and sometimes filled with moments of uncertainty about reaching the deadline, it was also exciting too. For finally, as those questions swirled around, from classmates and professors, to well-meaning family and friends, the question “so, how are things with the dissertation?” was met with, “I’m getting close to submitting a complete version,” said not with a grimace, but with at least a modicum of optimism.

And on December 20^th, I submitted a complete draft of my dissertation. To see the whole process come together, to print out and bind a full draft that could be read from cover to cover, brought back the feeling of satisfaction that came with doing the first (of what would become many) 20 mile run that was one of the final benchmarks of practice before the marathon. Yes, it was met with a familiar feeling of fatigue, but a tiredness that comes an intense, passionate effort.

I was under strict orders from my advisor to take a break and not think about it until the new semester. I was more than happy to oblige, and just as whole-heartily as I entered into the monster month, I stepped away, happy to step off the train until the conductor summoned me to board again.

Operation Endgame

2016-10-16T21:48:00.003-04:00

In the final season of Gilmore Girls (no major spoilers here), Rory and Paris are preparing to graduate from Yale. Paris Geller, an overachieving, ambitious, neurotic, yet still lovable perfectionist, ambushes her roommate Rory just moments after returning from the holiday break. She presents Rory with a hyper detailed chart, named Operation Finish line – their plan to make it through their final semester of Yale and graduate with an array of opportunities at their feet. They both ultimately succeed -- all of their hard work (and neuroses) paid off.

I am standing at the cusp of my own Operation Finish line, but renamed Operation Endgame. At the beginning of the semester, when, after having submitted my third chapter, my advisor said that we ought to meet in the coming weeks to discuss my “endgame,” – the final stages of my dissertation. That meeting was this past week.

We would discuss my most recent chapter (which I wrote over the summer), and plans for the next six months or so. While this semester I have been saying that I planned to graduate in the spring, I always said so with a hint of trepidation and apprehension. In my paranoid state (which is really all-too familiar for graduate students), I even dared to fear that secretly my committee viewed my work as interesting, but a project that would never fully come to fruition.

With that in mind, my nerves were frayed on Wednesday. I had had a nightmare the night before about our meeting, a catastrophic result of my subconscious, and my pounding heart when I woke up just brought me back to reality. My pre-meeting run (you can bet I will go for a run on the morning of my defense!) had only temporarily alleviated my nerves.

But as we talked about my most recent chapter (recognized to be in decent shape), it was clear that my advisor was on board, and like me, had eyes on a spring defense. Our conversation was intense, but that was more of the rigorous discussion of method, structure, and shape required of my dissertation. As we wrapped up, my advisor said, "by hook or by crook, we will get there," and "there is a light at the end of the tunnel." Although those are just sayings, she did truly offer the validation I was looking for: that I both could and would finish.

The following day, I received an email from her with a firm deadline of when to submit my first complete draft of the dissertation: December 20th. Although just over two months away, that is coming up quickly, and i wrote back that it would be a tight race to get there, but manageable. She replied, "Let's do this!" Again, that enthusiasm and feeling that this was a team effort was amazing.

It felt like things just kept picking up from there. I had received permission to send my first two chapters ahead to another committee member, who read and commented on them with such speed and depth, I was stunned. Although revisions need to be made, they were deemed to be "very good chapters." Another professional atta-girl!

It was the week where it felt like things were finally coming together, and that my committee truly did have the confidence in me that I so desperately needed. As I told the news to my mom, my biggest cheerleader and the one (along with my dad and other loved ones) who never doubted me, I said with some relief that for the first time, I truly believed I was going to do it, to finish and defend this dissertation.

There is so much to do, particularly in the next two months, but with Operation Endgame fully in place, I'm tackling it with eager anticipation, not dread.

S.M.A.R.T. Training - How I broke a 5 year old half marathon PR

2016-09-24T15:29:00.001-04:00

For the past couple of days, as I’ve attempted to process the race and contextualize it with my larger arc of years of running, I’ve reached a couple of conclusions. If I had to categorize my training this summer, leading up to this half marathon PR, what facilitated it?

This was what worked well in 2011, when I reached my old PR while following a very regimented training schedule:

High mileage – I was regularly running at least 50 miles per week

Track workouts – I ran one intense track workout per week

Tempo runs – 1 road workout once per week

Consistent cross training – At least 1-2 days of elliptical/swimming, along with 2-3 times per week weight training

Almost all of that went out the window this time. I simply could not devote that much attention and time to training – with the end of my graduate program in sight (!!!), this had to be a secondary hobby. My mileage was not as high, nor as consistent – I hit 40+ miles probably at least 5 times throughout the summer, but also had a couple weeks below 20 miles per week. I only did 3 track workouts, I didn’t really do tempo runs. My cross-training decreased (but I did add on a weekly barre class, and now walking my dog gives me probably at least 10 extra miles per week of walking around). So, how did it work? It was S.M.A.R.T. training.

Sensible. I learned how to be flexible. If it was 90 degrees, I wasn’t always going to get a long run in – that wasn’t safe. If I was close to getting a chapter done, that needed the priority – not my running.

Manageable. I was not going to overdo my training. This was going to be a reasonable training cycle, both to take in the pressures of writing and the heat of the summer.

Accumulative – These legs have at least 10,000 miles in them, and I was able to draw from the strength and consistency from years of regular running.

Regular. Consistency is both key and king. I've tended to always aim for a double digit run once on the weekend, and to run at least 4 days a week, sometimes 5. This consistent running over the years has built up strength in my legs.

Tactical. If I was feeling good on a particular long run, I would try to make it an effective workout and press the pace. I was getting really good at starting my long runs slow (sometimes at 9:00 pace for the first mile) and progressively increasing my speed throughout the run (cracking into 7:50s) without blowing up.

Really, those five words are virtually synonymous, but I truly believe that this approach and attitude brought me this PR. For the past couple of years, when people asked about my running, I always couched it with “Yes, I’m still running a lot, but not really training. I’m just trying to focus on finishing my dissertation.” What I should have said, and what I will say in the future is, “I’m running consistently and do have some long-term goals. While my running schedule isn’t as regimented as it was a few years ago, I’ve learned how to manage my training and make my running time as effective as it can be.” Less can be more! Now, this wouldn’t have been possible if I hadn’t accrued years of training – you need to build a base that comes with years of regular running and taking the steps necessary to prevent injury. Yes, there are some great workouts that can really help make a runner stronger, but I do believe that this broader, more holistic approach made a different and will continue to do so for years to come.

Rise - Racing the Navy-Air Force Half Marathon

2016-09-22T09:30:00.001-04:00

Sunday was the Navy-Air Force Half, and I came into it thinking that it would be great to be within shouting distance of my PR (1:32:35), and maybe, maybe if everything came together, a PR was a possibility. As I was doing my shakeout run yesterday (3 miles), I did a couple of sprints at 7:00 pace, and it felt fast. I was hesitant whether this would happen or not, but sometimes you just have to take the risk and go for broke.

I got a good night's sleep, and got to the start with plenty of time to spare. My warm-up loosened me up, and I got to the start line in plenty of time. I had to laugh as the gun went off, because the song they played at the start was "September" by Earth, Wind, and Fire (that was the song we walked into at our wedding reception - not to be confused with our first song). With a smile on my face, I took off, hoping to hit around 7:00 pace (knowing that 7:02-7:03 pace would net me a PR). The first few miles I hit 7:00, or even a few seconds faster pretty consistently. So brings up the eternal question, "is this a reasonable pace or will it eventually blow up in my face?" I hoped for the former, and pressed on.

When Katy Perry's Olympic song Rise came out, I liked it, but it didn't quite stick with me like roar and firework did. However, last week I was looking to get some new music for my runs, and opted to get it. On one of my runs, I think I listened to it 3 or 4 times in a row. I think part of it that stuck with me was

Oh, ye of so little faith
Don't doubt it, don't doubt it
Victory is in my veins
I know it, I know it
And I will not negotiate
I'll fight it, I'll fight it

I will transform

I would say that what gets in the way of my success the most is doubt. The fear of failure can be so gripping and so hard to shake. This applies to both my running and my writing - doubt in myself. We are our own worst enemies, right? I am. So, the song really resonated with me. Throughout a lot of the race, when spots of the course were quiet with few spectators, I drew on the song and played it in my head on repeat.

Things had spread out within a couple of miles, so it was nice to have a lot of room and not feel crowded. There were still enough people around to work on picking off other runners throughout the course. Every time I hit the mile marker up through mile 10 was 7:00 pace or better. Those first few miles were clicking off so easily, that I was worried that my excitement over this would lead me to blow up. By mile 7 or 8, however, it started to feel like a lot more effort to hit this pace, and the exertion was definitely taking its toll. I was wondering if I should try to slow down to recover, but feared that if I did, I wouldn't be able to get back my momentum. So, I pressed on with the fast pace, with fingers crossed.

I have to hand it to the volunteers at the water stations. First of all, it is such a selfless way to spend a Sunday morning, and such a helpful and friendly group of people to have along the way. I must give a shoutout to the folks at the mile 7 and 11 (same station - part of the out and back route), who were whooping and cheering like it was the end of the Boston Marathon. It was such a thrill, and their enthusiastic cheers really offered a shot of adrenaline when I really needed it.

I was running through Rock Creek Park (where I do a lot of my running), and at mile 8 or 9 (when I was really starting to hurt and feel like my pace goal would go out the window), a man sidled up next to me. He said, "You ladies are all so fast! There are like 4 of you in front of me - I don't know how you do it." I just smiled (I didn't really have the extra oxygen to explain that yes, some of us can run with the big dogs), and he moved forward. I ended up passing him for good a mile later at mile 10, which I hit at 1:10:05.

I knew that my husband would be waiting for me at mile 11, and that gave me such a push to slog through what would be the final 5k. I was getting so tired (pace slowed down a few seconds per mile), and some of the race pictures really highlight that. But at mile 11, there was Pat, cheering, yelling, and putting a smile on my face. I could handle 2.1 more miles - it would all be over in less than 15 minutes. There was one turn around a cone around mile 12, which I did ungracefully, but was able to catch a glimpse of a running buddy of mine. People kept yelling, "last mile! So close!" but the final mile of a long race feels so much longer than the first one. The finish was at the Washington Monument, which felt like it loomed ahead, both within my grasp and just out of reach. But as I hit the final turn and could finally see the clock, I knew a PR wasn't a far-off dream, but a reality. I pumped my first and had a huge smile on my face as I crossed the finish line.

1:32:17 (7:02 pace)

126/5,220

35/2,849 (women)

10/474 (30-34 age group)

I couldn't stop smiling, because this really felt like a big victory. Ultimately, it was one of the most evenly paced runs I've done, particularly in the longer distance. I slowed down a few seconds per mile towards the end, but it was not a total crash and burn. My husband was impressed with how closely I managed to predict my time, but I guess at this point, with so many races under my built, and so much experience with longer runs, it's become a lot easier to be consistent. It didn't occur to me until afterwards, that I hadn't PRed in almost 3 years (October 2013 at the Army 10 Miler). I didn't realize it hadn't been that long. Nor did I think that I had said goodbye to PRs - it's just that those extra hours of running have shifted into writing time, as they should. So it made this victory all the more sweet - that I managed to gut it out, run both hard and smart, follow through on my training, and achieve a quietly-set goal with a flourish.

Roosevelt 5k and 17 miles - which is better?

2016-09-08T12:38:00.002-04:00

As I'm writing this, I have less than 2 weeks to go until the Navy-Air Force Half marathon (9/18). I've put together some really good weeks, with at least four or five weeks of at least 40 miles, and over the summer, put in some consistent long runs between 11-15 miles. While my training hasn't been as solid as it was 5 years ago, it has been much more consistent than it was 2 years ago. I've been making up my own schedules, becoming much more flexible than I used to be (mentally - beyond touching my toes, I'm not that flexible). I don't quite have a firm idea of how the half will go. My PR is almost 5 years old: 1:32:35 from the 2011 Philadelphia Half Marathon. A few months later (March 2012), I ran 1:34:03 as a workout in the Rock and Roll DC Half, and that was the last time I ran a half marathon. Based on how my training has been going, I think these are my following goals:
A Goal - break my PR of 1:32:35 (7:03 pace)
B Goal - somewhere under 1:34:00 (7:10 pace)
C Goal - under 1:35 (7:14 pace)
When I was racing ten milers and averaging below 6:35, I always felt that the half PR was in reach, and I do wish I had tried to go for it back then. But I think this upcoming half will be a good benchmark, and if I don't quite nab the PR this time, it means with a few more months of consistent training, I'll be able to get it in the spring. But I digress.

I did another midweek race on Thursday night - the Roosevelt 5k in Arlington, which ran along the Mt. Vernon Trail in Virginia. This was another chance to get in some speedwork. Having run 20:15 in the NOVA 5k the week before, I was hoping to get within shouting distance of 20 minutes. I chatted with another woman named Jessie who looked fast, and we both said that we were hoping for similar time goals, and I was hoping to just draft off her.

Before the rain and the race!

It didn't quite work like that in reality. While the middle 2 miles of the race took place on smooth Mt. Vernon trail, the first and last .5 mile went down a corkscrew ramp that then spilled onto a wooden path. My warmup showed that I wasn't going to be able to run down this recklessly. I must add, about 2 minutes before the race started, it began to rain fairly hard. While it was refreshing, I was really worried about the wooden section of the course, and ended up holding back on the first mile, trying not to fall, and to make sure I had enough at the end that the corkscrew ascent that would be waiting for me would be manageable. I totally let Jessie, the other woman, go ahead, hoping to make up the distance between us later on. I never caught her. I did manage to blow by two guys, but I didn't quite have the fresh legs I needed to make that happen. I had run 15 miles on Sunday (race was on Thursday), and while I got through the first mile in 6:30, that would be the fastest mile I would run. I managed to pass a couple of guys, but Jessie was about 30 seconds ahead, and was never quite in my reach. Motoring up that last hill was hard, and I was just happy to get to the finish line. I ended up finishing 2nd woman in 20:53 - the slowest 5k I had run in almost 2 years. In running my cooldown with Jessie, I learned she was an 800m specialist who had tried to qualify for the Olympic Trials in the 800, but just missed the mark. With this in mind, knowing that she has the kind of speed that I just don't, it certainly softened the reality of my race. It was a race that I ran fine, and that's it - it was a B race, and just part of the building block leading up to my half marathon.

3 days later, I did my last long run - the longest run, in fact, that I had done all year. 17 miles on the Capital Crescent Trail at 8:40 pace. I saw this as a big improvement from the previous week's 15 miler (run at 9:10 pace - although it was about 10 degrees warmer then). While the last couple of miles felt more like a shuffle, it was actually a big confidence builder, particularly when compared to the 5k. Knowing I could put a few extra miles in my legs felt good, and next week I won't need to go as far in my last long run.

I think ultimately both the 5k and the long run are working together to help prepare me for the half. However, it is clear that I favor, enjoy, and succeed in the long run more than the short race. Looking forward to doing a few more solid workouts leading up to the 18th!

Mary, Undoer of Knots, Pray for Me

2016-09-03T15:26:00.003-04:00

My dissertation "The Voice of Mary" examines medieval textual representations of the Virgin Mary speaking. For a woman who only spoke four times in the Bible (Luke 1:26-38 Annunciation, 1:46-56 Visitation, 2:41-52 Finding Jesus in the Temple, and John 2:1-11 Wedding at Cana), writers of many different genres: dramatic, contemplative, narrative, manipulated these 191 words and expanded them, assigning a stronger, more powerful voice for the Blessed Virgin Mary. It's meant that for the last four years, I've been reading many stories about Mary - some famous, and some less familiar.

Although the writing process is often tedious, I also have really enjoyed my topic. Mary is not a monolithic figure, and means different things to different people. This litany highlights just some of the many titles assigned to Mary, an aspect that I'm trying to investigate. How and why did different medieval authors construct various kinds of voices for Mary to appeal to different audiences and serve varying functions?

As I wrote in a previous post, I'm in the third lap of my dissertation, and in the early stages of drafting my last chapter. This chapter, which will examine Mary in Annunciation and Passion narratives, will actually appear as the first chapter of the dissertation, and will serve to highlight the contrasting dynamic of voices created for Mary. Although this is the first time I'm making a good effort on this chapter, I've had a Word document with some ideas for this chapter going for about a year. I have over 35 pages of material on it already. Which to some sounds like a lot, and it is close to chapter-length, but a lot of it is very messy. So, the past week or so, I've been sifting through it, cutting out the junk writing, organizing it, and trying to make it cleaner. I made a lot of progress this week, and some sections are starting to come together.

As my husband would come home at the end of the day, I would tell him how I untangled a bit more of the chapter, seeing some improvements along the way. Thursday night, it brought back a memory of one of the many titles of Mary - one that became popular centuries after the Middle Ages. This is a painting of "Mary, the undoer of knots," an early eighteenth-century German painting by Johann Georg Melchior Schmidtner. If you look closely, she's holding a rope with a series of knots, and she is untying each of them (a task many mothers are faced with!). The first chapel to be named "Mary, Untier of Knots," was built in Austria in 1989. Pope Francis really likes this imagery, noting that “All the knots of our heart, every knot of our conscience, can be undone.” As a Catholic, and as someone whose faith largely includes devotion to Mary, it would be nearly impossible to not think of Mary as a spiritual guide as I work on my dissertation. And as I run my third lap of my dissertation, trying to make it to the final lap and full draft, it is a comforting thought to pray to Mary to help untangle my mental knots. I'll close out with one of the prayers associated with Mary, Undoer of Knots.

Dearest Holy Mother, Most Holy Mary, You undo the knots that suffocate your children, extend Your merciful hands to me. I entrust to You today this knot and all the negative consequences that it provokes in my life. I give You this knot that torments me and makes me unhappy and so impedes me from uniting myself to You and Your Son Jesus, my Savior.

I run to You, Mary, Undoer of Knots because I trust You and I know that You never despise a sinning child who comes to ask you for help. I believe that You can undo this knot because Jesus grants You everything. I believe that You want to undo this knot because you are my Mother. I believe that You will do this because you love me with eternal love.

Thank you, Dear Mother.

Mary, Undoer of Knots, pray for me. Amen.

Weeknight 5k: Nova 5k

2016-08-31T21:55:00.002-04:00

So, I had gotten back on the speedwagon with track workouts. I had 3 consecutive weeks of good track workouts, and then I fell off the speedwagon. Well, not so much as fell off, but decided that finishing my third chapter required more focus. Opted to run for sanity, not for speed. 5 years ago, I wouldn't have been comfortable making a decision like that - I tended to cling to running schedules with no sense of flexibility. While I still can't cast off change with the greatest of ease, I've come a long way. But I digress. The point is - speed workouts hadn't been happening. But I still have a half marathon coming up 9/18 that I'd like to do well in. So, I found a low-key 5k to do in Vienna this Tuesday, which I thought would be a great substitute for a track workout. All the better that it was on one of my favorite running trails in this area - the Washington & Old Dominion trail.

There was a merciful dip in the temperature, meaning that it was only 84 degrees at 6:30, instead of 94 - thank goodness! I usually do a 2.5 mile run, but decided why not just preview the whole course - so what I planned to do was a 5k warmup. This ended up being close to 4 miles because I got lost trying to find a bathroom...oops. Some things don't change! I ended up getting to the start with about 2 minutes to spare - needless to say, the adrenaline was pumping, and I had definitely booked it getting there.

It was a relatively small race -- only 58 people in the race. So even though we were all crammed along the 12 foot path for the start, things spread out pretty quickly. I was figured I'd run somewhere between 20:00 and 20:30, and so was pleased when I hit the first mile in 6:31. It felt fast, but once things spread out, and I had a couple of people to focus on picking off, it also felt like a doable pace. I had two women nearby that I was determined to pass, and did so just before the turnaround mark, which put me in second place. I came through the second mile in 13:02, running more evenly than I usually can. I was then set on chasing a couple of guys, who on the surface seemed to be within reach - probably about 50 meters ahead. Having just watched the men's Olympic marathon a few days before, it puts some perspective into how close together two people are when they run. It often looks on TV that someone can easily pass someone, that they're "right behind them," and that's not true. Once someone is at least 10 seconds in front of you, you need to put a lot of energy into making up that gap, and it didn't seem like I would do that.

However, I did manage to finish in 20:15 (6:31 pace) - the most even 5k I've ever run (and probably will). I was 2nd woman, earning a $20 gift card (which was the cost of the race) to a local Irish pub that hosted the after party. Give the fact that I hadn't done speedwork in a few weeks, and my pre-race spontaneous speedwork/race to get to the start line, I chalked it up to be a great race. $20 for a beautiful course on a Tuesday night - it was great. I'll actually be doing another weeknight 5k tomorrow night - hoping to get a little closer to breaking 20 again!

The Third Lap

2016-08-19T16:28:00.000-04:00

In racing the mile, the third lap is universally acknowledged to be the most difficult.
The third lap is the most taxing on the body as the adrenaline from the first two laps is gone and the body's own lactic acid builds up in the muscles, decreasing usable oxygen. As the body begins to suffer, the mental training of the runner must step up to continue to propel the runner forward. If a runner gives up on the third lap, it rarely matters how fast he can run the final lap. Too much ground has been lost to finish well. Whether running against opponents or simply against the clock, the third lap can make or break a runner's one-mile success. Marc Hays
I am in the third lap of my dissertation. I have one chapter left to write, along with the introduction, conclusion, and revising the entire dissertation once it's a complete document that can be read cover-to-cover. This week I submitted my third chapter, which was both the most enjoyable and quickest to write. I think part of that has to do with the fact that I've finally started to figure out the best ways to organize my thoughts, to structure my argument, and to write efficiently. I finally figured out how to aim for quality over quantity, and as that happened, better words appeared on the page. When I focused on making a point over hitting a page count, I started to find a flow. It was exciting and like the cumulative years of training as I accumulated thousands of miles, I started to accumulate chapters.
While my family and friends have said that I'm in on the home stretch, and I'm sure in the big perspective, I am rounding the bend, but I think I'm in the middle of my third lap of the dissertation.
Jenny Simpson made our country proud Tuesday night becoming the first American woman to medal in the 1500m. But that third lap never looks that enjoyable
It is only at the end, when crossing the finish line in victory, that the joy is evident. You can also see the relief etched into her face, knowing that all of the hard work and sacrifices paid off.
There is still new writing to be done, and it is my goal at the end of the fall semester to have a full draft. I anticipate having less than 100 pages of new writing to do. My final lap will be in the spring semester, when I revise and defend my dissertation.
I think I learned how to step things up this summer in terms of focusing single-mindedly and really throw everything I can at this chapter. I will continue to use that approach this fall, and looking forward to reaching the bell lap when I ring in the New Year of 2017.

Finding the light inside: Girls on the Run

2016-08-14T23:22:00.001-04:00

According to the Dove campaign on women and self-esteem, 7 in 10 girls believe that they are not good enough or don’t measure up in some way, including their looks, performance in school and relationships with friends and family members. How terrible is that? And girls with low self-esteem are at higher risk for a litany of issues, including depression, negative activities (like cutting, disordered eating), and so much more. And with facts like that, coupled with media barraging young girls with unreasonable standards of what it means to be beautiful, what hope is there? I have a young cousin who is going to be dealing with this (she's 10), my best friend has 2 baby girls...what are they up against?

What if every girl knew that she had a powerful light in her? And the belief that she can achieve anything?

I am very excited to be joining Girls on the Run (GOTR) this fall as a coach for one of the local teams. The above question comes from GOTR's training program, which I've just begun. I am so looking forward to working with a group of young girls this fall, culminating with a 5k in December. I've wanted to get into some sort of coaching for a while, and this seems like the perfect opportunity. Running has given me so much. So much. Running has given me confidence and peace of mind. The gift of running has given me the clarity and focus to accomplish what I've done so far as an adult. And while I did do some running in middle school and in 9th grade, there was never a coaching environment that really encouraged us in ways that stretched beyond the cross-country season.

When I worked for the Center for Talented Youth, I served as a quasi-chaperone for one of our talented students - she wasn't just smart, but a gifted runner. We would go out a few times a week early in the morning, and there was something about those shared moments that really resonated with me. And my work with CTY as a whole, working with gifted children, made me more passionate about serving to better the development of children, promoting both academic and social experiences.

I served as a "run buddy" for the GOTR 5k a few years ago and found it to be a really enjoyable experience. I told myself that once my life felt more in order, I would return to the program as a coach. This semester, my only objective is to write. But that's not all anyone can do - you need something going on to balance that out. I think going from the interior nature of writing solo, to a group of excited young girls who are eager to accomplish something - that is going to be some kind of magic.

WE BELIEVE THAT EVERY GIRL
CAN EMBRACE WHO SHE IS,
CAN DEFINE WHO SHE WANTS TO BE,
CAN RISE TO ANY CHALLENGE,
CAN CHANGE THE WORLD.
CAN.

Short Stories on Sunday

2016-07-31T20:18:00.000-04:00

July could be neatly categorized as hot and humid. As someone constantly editing prose in an effort to be concise in my dissertation writing, the weather and running here can be boiled down to those two words. While I’d rather be knee deep in snow, I’d still rather slog it around in the heat than not be able to run at all. Amid the consistently 90+ degree-days, a few bright spots and notes: - hot takes, if you will!

A couple of weeks ago, I did the Bastille Day Four Miler. Never got around to blogging about it, particularly because after we got back from the race, and hear about the terrible tragedy in Nice, there wasn’t much worth celebrating about Bastille Day. This race is a low-key $5 evening race on the C&O Canal in Georgetown. It was 97 and a heat advisory when I left the house to run to the race – the warm-up itself was redundant, I was dripping by the time I arrived to pick up my bib. Mercifully, even though the heat index had hit over 100 degrees, the race was in the shade, which offered at least a modicum of relief. While in the previous year, I averaged 6:45 pace on a hot day, this day required some scaling back in terms of pace. I figured around 7:00 pace was reasonable to get in a good effort but stay safe. I ended up averaging 7:00 exactly, although the way I did so was not even: 6:49, 7:10, 7:00, 3:34. Yes, the math doesn’t add up. They apparently measured the course short, which made for a surprise finish. 25:05 for 3.59 miles (7:00 pace) I still had a little energy left and would’ve kicked harder. Oh well. I chalked up to a good speed workout under challenging conditions and placed reasonably well (7th woman).

I haven’t paid too much attention to mileage lately – I’ve tended to average 30-35 miles lately, with a couple of weeks hitting 40, long runs tending to average between 10-12 miles, with the occasional 13-14. This is a far cry to the days where I was consistently running 40-50 miles, with a low week hit about 32 miles. However, with my eyes on a half marathon in September, I know I’d feel more confident getting back into the 40 mile weeks with a long run over the half marathon. I was happy to get up to 43 miles last week, even though it was one of the hottest weeks of the year. Other than my track workout of mile repeats, my pace hardly dipped below 9:00 miles – run your easy days, easy! And when it’s hot, slow down more! I got in 2 long runs in over the weekend, 10 and 12 miles, respectively. Although I would’ve liked to go further just to get in some extra mileage, it was the smart decision to stop. On both days, I was tired but not spent, sweaty, but not dehydrated or overheated. There is a fine line of tightrope walking in training in the heat, and I’d rather not fall off the wire!

I was pleased Wednesday to get in a second track workout. I did 8x800 at 7:30 in the morning (hubby had an early morning meeting which got both of us up and at ‘em), and thankfully about half of the track was in the shade. I like 800s a lot because they go by pretty quickly (much faster than the mile repeats) but not quite at the blistering pace of 400s. Again, I used to totally have a rhythm about these and could descend in times almost to the second in accuracy. It’ll take some time to recalibrate to that specificity. Quantitatively, I was hoping to knock off 2-3 seconds per interval – that did nott happen in reality: 3:26, 3:23, 3:20 3:14, 3:13, 3:12, 3:10, 3:10. Ok, so I was clicking things off nicely, and then overshot the 4^th interval and basically needed to just hold steady. However, I never blew up: this was still a good set of progression intervals. Looking forward to going back to these old workouts on a new track with renewed grit and determination! Got a 15 mile run in on Saturday, making it the second consecutive week of 40+ miles.

I’m looking forward to cooler temperatures, but will continue to gut things out in the heat – albeit with smart and healthy tactics! Stay tuned, stay cool, and stay safe!

Coming Home and Back on Track

2016-07-20T22:27:00.000-04:00

As tough as the training was when I was on a running schedule, training upwards of 50 miles per week for shorter races, I thoroughly enjoyed the hard schedule. The different runs, particularly the speed workouts, felt more like puzzles and games, rather than insufferable sessions. They were often character-building workouts, where some sort of challenge pressed me to dig deeper than I had previously. While I think the tempo workouts on the road were probably what strengthened me the most and helped me to become prepared for race season, my favorite workout of the week was the track workout.
This excitement usually the night before, as I lay out my clothes and prepared myself mentally for the challenge the next day: 5 x 1 miles, 8 x 800, 20 x 400m, or some sort of mix. I had developed enough familiarity with my pacing that even though I was doing the workouts by myself, I knew what times to hit, and how to not bomb a workout completely by going too fast. And the victories that came from these track workouts only could compare to race day magic. I often had graduate classes a couple of hours after those workouts, and any challenges I faced in school, or in meetings with my professors, felt so much achievable after knocking out hard miles on the track.
I don't think I've mentioned it on here, but I've signed up for the Navy-Air Force Half Marathon in September. While I have been running over 13 miles for a while, it has been over 4 years since I last raced a half marathon. And although I haven't been training as seriously as I was a few years ago, I wanted to sign up for a longer race to see how close I could get to my PR (1:32:33). So, the race now is just under 2 months away, and although I've been using some of these races as speed workouts, if I really want to knock at the sub 1:34 door (I think that's my main goal), I need to get back on track, literally. So, I thought I'd go back and dig up some of the golden oldies: the workouts that got me into shape and stretched me as a distance runner.
I'm so fortunate to have so many colleges nearby, and American University is just a couple of miles away with a great track. The last time I actually ran on this track was over four years ago when I broke 6 minutes for the first time in the mile. And, more importantly, the last time I had set foot on a track, period, for any workout was April 2014. If it sounds like a long time - it is - I had a different name then! Needless to say, there was some trepidation about getting back onto it. Objectively, I'm not at that fitness level anymore, and while I'd like to think I can get back to it, it'll take some time.
The workout I came up with was 3 x 1 mile, followed by 4 x 400 meters. I would take a lap to recover after each mile, and half a lap after each 400. As excited as I was about getting back on the track, I clearly wasn't automatically in track-mode - I totally forgot my flats! While I had spent the first few years of running track workouts wearing trainers, I totally got used to wearing flats and feeling super light and fast. I needed to keep that in mind when I toed the line - it was possible that I might be slower because of both the physical and psychological attachment I've had to the speed race shoes.
And as if no time had passed, I was toeing the line, and that familiar feeling of excitement came back as I mentally said "bang" and took off! Oh it felt so good to be tearing around that oval again, and while it was clear that my speed needed some development, it's like riding a bicycle - you just don't forget how to do it. All of those memories came back, and while it took more energy both physical and mental to click off the laps, I got it done: 6:54, 6:40, 6:39. Clearly I need to recall my old pacing strategies (the goal was to knock off 5-7 seconds per interval), but the leg speed was there. It definitely took more effort than I remembered, but I'm sure it will become easier with time. Muscle memory, right? And then to stimulate my legs in a different way, I did a set of 400s - which just took a lot of grit and determination: 1:37, 1:33: 1:32, 1:34. Overall, this was a good first effort back and a reminder that A) the cumulative training over the years makes a big difference and B) While I can certainly call on those cumulative miles, I still need to put in the hard work now.
Feeling pleased to have both writing and running on the right track these days!

Just Keep Moving (How Brenda Martinez Inspires Me)

2016-07-19T23:17:00.001-04:00

Part of the compelling nature of the Olympic Trials and the Olympics themselves is seeing the stories of redemption. Yes, the people who go to the Olympics and compete on the highest stage of competitions are achieving their dreams, but so many of those stories are filled with redemption. Everyone loves a comeback story, and to an extent, many Olympic stories are filled with redemption. No one experiences a meteoric rise overnight without hard work, and most reach the peak of their sport having overcame different obstacles. Whether it is injuries, loss of sponsors, change of coach, or other training difficulties, the road to the top is scarcely smooth nor linear.

There were a bunch of great stories from the 2016 US Olympic Track and Field Trials, and the ten days of races and events were a lot of fun to watch and read about. It’s also one of the few times a year when I actually feel like I know what’s going on in sports! One of the most exciting and upsetting events was the Women’s 800M Final. A collision knocked some of the country’s best out of contention for well-deserved spots on the team: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uYGUDtJvJLo For many, the 800m was their only option, and so this was game over.

But for Brenda Martinez (who, incidentally has a bronze medal from the 2013 World Championships in the 800m), she is so talented and diverse in her ability that she was also qualified for the 1500m. She managed to go through the heats of the 1500m, just days after her devastating fall, and managed to squeak by and nab a spot on the team! And the crowd went wild as the scoreboard revealed she got it. The best part of this was that the winner of the race, Jenny Simpson, ran to find Brenda, hugging her as she lay on the ground, exhausted from the effort and uttered: “I am so proud of you…Nobody else could have done this.” https://www.facebook.com/nbcolympics/videos/10154821737755329/?pnref=story

It was a beautiful expression of friendship and shared joy of two teammates achieving their dreams together. This wasn’t just a feel-good moment; it represented so much hard work and saying yes to challenges when others said no. Speaking after the race, Brenda Martinez commented: “I feel like it had to happen for a reason. And that’s the way I believe life works, you’re going to get tested. And if people can see what I went through, then maybe they won’t doubt themselves next time something happens to them. And if I can give them any words of encouragement it’s ‘Just keep moving.'”

Just keep moving. Such an important lesson to take away from this, and it has such broad applications. I recognize that the obstacles and tests, and even stumbles that I’ve had in life are small. However, my professional life as a graduate student has had its share of obstacles, particularly during the writing phase. And in moments of doubt, the previous failures and stumbles have a special way of creeping back into my head at the most inopportune moments. But those failures have been followed with going back to the drawing board, keeping my head down, and figuring out ways to proceed.

Just keep moving. It is so small and simplistic, and yet sometimes such hard advice to follow. I have gotten a lot of writing done this summer. And some days, the writing hasn’t been the most eloquent, but with just a couple of exceptions, I have been writing every day. That is the habit that ultimately so many writers encourage: cultivating a habitual writing habit. It is not always natural, but it is exponentially more natural than it was a year ago, even six months ago. Of course, so many liken picking up a writing habit to a running habit, and I wish it came as naturally! But I have to say, even though there has been mental “soreness” that has come from such intense writing this summer, I feel like I’m finally in the groove with it.

Just keep moving. I am rounding the bend on my doctoral program, well into the depths of my dissertation. The finish line isn’t quite in sight, but it’s getting closer. And the only way to get closer is, just keep moving.

Reston Firecracker 5k

2016-07-04T12:24:00.002-04:00

After spending 9 summers working at CTY, when I didn't really have a flexible schedule, I've been trying to take advantage of the fun summer activities available e in DC when you're not responsible for hundreds of kids and faculty for seven weeks. One of the biggest joys has been to participate in some of the area's summer races
I signed up for the Reston Firecracker 5k with a friend a couple of weeks ago, not totally sure of my fitness. I had had a great spring racing season, culminating in a second place finish at the 19k in early May. But after 5 hard races, I needed some low-key time for running, and frankly, time to focus getting some good writing in.

I was bummed when my friend couldn't do the race because she was sick, but since this would be the beginning of summer racing, I was still hoping for a good gauge of my fitness. Mercifully, like some sort of Fourth of July miracle, it was overcast and only about 68 degrees this morning. This is unheard of in July, and while such weather doesn't bode well for other kinds of Fourth of July activities like the beach, it was just perfect for racing. I was hoping to run somewhere between 20:00 and 20:30, knowing that the average first female time is under 17 minutes. I was hoping that instead of a small race where I'd be lucky to have someone running near me, I'd be with a larger pack and could pick off people.

We were off and running, and the first mile or so was pretty hilly, and so crowded that a couple of collisions happened near me. I ran through the first mile in about 6:32, so a little bit off of sub 20 pace. I realized that no matter what, I should try to pick up the pace. 5ks are uncomfortable at any pace, and I thought that I should just try gutting it out as much as possible. I started to speed up a little, particularly as we hit a small downhill, using that to ramp up my speed. I reached 2 miles around 13:00, so I was running a pretty even pace, but was actually picking off people.

It is remarkable that the miles can really tick off during a long run, and even a run between an hour or two can go by relatively quickly. Conversely, I was trying to break things up minute by minute, and when I reached that two mile mark, was hoping that it just meant I had roughly 7 minutes left. I simultaneously was passing people, but was just trying to focus on knocking off another minute at a time. Going by people with confidence helped a lot, and distracted me from my tired legs.

5ks are always uncomfortable, and this proves it!

With about .2 to go, I was going uphill, trying to pick off a couple more people, and just willing for the seconds to go by. I was so happy to see the 3 mile mark, but at about 19:35, knew that sub 20 was way out of reach.
I did my best to finish strong at 20:20 (6:34 pace)

14/781 of all women

5th in age group (first time in the 30-34 division!)

American Dream Way

This was a very competitive race, and so overall, I was pretty pleased with how I did. The female winner's time was 16:44, the second place finisher came in 20th in this year's Olympic Marathon Trials, and 12 women broke 20.

I had a great cool down on the W&OD trail - my favorite trail when we lived in Virginia. It was so nice and quiet, and still relatively cool out. I stopped at one point to take a picture of this bridge (so many great names in this area: Difficult Run, American Dream), etc. Wrapped up the day with 10 miles under my belt, it was a good way to start the holiday.

Overall, I was pleased with my performance and think it's a good indicator of some racing to come this summer!

Sanctuary in Rock Creek Park

2016-06-29T23:08:00.004-04:00

Summer in DC can be neatly summarized in two words: hot and humid. While the flowers are in bloom, and the monuments are well-maintained, this is the season I'd least recommend for visitors...or residents. And as someone married to a government employee, I wish our nation's capital wasn't built on top of a swamp. Those who train for fall marathons and suffered through super-sweaty runs are rewarded with cooler temperatures and low humidity. Those of us with dogs are constantly carrying a water bottle around and trolling for restaurants that put water bowls outside to provide some puppy sanctuary. And while some shiver in January and lament the frigid temperatures, I'll take that any day over red-raced runs in June.

So, that's my rant. It makes me miss my summers working in Santa Cruz, when the morning runs barely hit 50 degrees, and Rochester when spring carried well into June. I've lived in some wonderful places, and this is my permanent place and I wouldn't trade it, but if someone could stop that whole climate change thing and figure out how to cool things down, that would be great.

Sanctuary, simply defined, is a sacred place, and people usually think of it in the confines of a church or religious space. But more broadly, it is any sort of haven, or place that provides feelings of safety and serenity. And church provides a lot of that for me, and I've been so grateful to have that sort of sanctuary. But for years, running has provided that as well. I'll leave it to the always eloquent Kathrine Switzer to describe it, "For miles around in open country and wild landscapes I felt God everywhere. I was free, protected, and approved of. The rhythm of running and my own heartbeat tapped out a universal connectedness to the environment that I had never before felt, and I was both exhilarated and humbled." - Marathon Woman.

And she hits the nail on the head here. There is something special about running, for me, that gives that sense of connecting to the world, yet freedom from my own little world, and it's indescribable. And I know that there are many different sanctuaries for all sorts of people, and it can take a long time to find one's sanctuary.

I love Rock Creek Park, and I think part of that love stems from the idea that Rock Creek Park is an oasis in the middle of the city. This urban park cuts through Northwest DC and sits on over 2,000 acres of beautiful land. It is the third oldest national park in the country, and truly provides an outlet for the 600,000 residents of the city, and the many tourists and visitors who flock to the capital. And if you look at the pictures I took from this evening's 10k run through it, you would have no idea that this sanctuary was just a couple of miles away from our federal government, the hub of the free world.

It has been so hot in the city, and the park has functioned as such an oasis for so many reasons. The forests create so much shade and particularly as dusk falls, helps to drop the temperature so much. And everyone who seeks to kneel at the altar of the park does so on their own terms, without pretense or judgment. People put aside their beliefs and attitudes at the park (with a few exceptions - no one is perfect), and despite their concerns and worries of the day, whether it is work, or family, or car trouble, or the bills, it goes away. The park does not judge and does not care when you mess up. The park forgives you for an unproductive writing day, the park understands when you didn't make the bed or do all of the dishes, or...I think I've made my point. A judgment-free zone, and amazingly enough, a zone where I'm least likely to judge myself.

And despite that so many people do come to this park to run, bike, do yoga, walk the dog, go on picnics, it is so quiet. The temperature was mercifully cooler, and for the first time weeks, I wasn't beet-red after fifteen minutes of running. It felt idyllic in all sorts of ways: the temperature, the quiet, the beautiful landscape that looked like it belonged hundreds of miles away instead of adjacent to the infrastructure that governs the free world.

I had had a good writing today, but sometimes after hours of the mental exercises of writing, editing, organizing, and crafting a thesis, I was starting to feel foggy. And I've finally learned that caffeine does not always do the trick, particularly after multiple cups of coffee with my writing. So, it was running that cleared my head, and no amount of humidity was going to get in my way. It ultimately worked, and just like the humidity had evaporated after yesterday's downpour, the swarm of medieval thoughts and arguments in my head quieted down.

Sanctuaries cannot be simply mapped out or searched for in an atlas. They are often found through one's own pilgrimage, one's own journey seeking respite amidst the haze and craze. There are different kinds of stained glass windows, those crafted by an artist, and those crafted by God, all of which allow us to peer through something differently and watch the light stream in.

Slaying the Dragons in a New Age Bracket

2016-06-21T17:07:00.000-04:00

This Sunday (Father’s Day), I turned 30 and while I don’t think I felt too much angst about turning 30, it certainly gave me pause about closing out my twenties and what lies in store in this next decade. My parents came into town, and Saturday night I had a little party with them, my husband, and my closest friends from graduate school. I couldn’t help but think of Julie Powell in one of my favorite movies, Julie and Julia. While we had pizza and cupcakes instead of lobster thermidor, we were marking time in the same way. Just like Julie Powell was midway through cooking her way through Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking, I was with my friends and family midway through my dissertation. I think I love that movie so much because both Julia Child and Julie Powell have such big ambitions, but so often also had to sweat it out through the difficult changes of writing a book, writing a blog, learning to cook, speak French, etc. They both did it with loving husbands by their sides, just like I’m doing (and I also have great parents who have been cheering for me since I was in diapers). And while they often despaired and were met with great criticism, they emerged triumphant in both their personal and professional goals.

And so as part of a new age bracket and sights set on defending in Spring 2017 (less than 10 months away!), it’s time to get medieval. As much as the dissertation is an individual project, it would be impossible to do it in isolation. I’ve been fortunate enough to be part of a writing group with some of my peers, and I’ve also been writing regularly with some other classmates. I think it’s really important to surround yourselves with people who won’t just encourage you, but challenge you to push harder. My best friend is a dermatologist, and was the top of her med school class, and has just worked her butt off throughout her entire career. My best friend in graduate school earned graduated with distinction, which is really hard to do, and I’ve constantly sought her advice and just tried to model my work ethic after hers.

I was listening to an interview with Lauren Fleshman (one of the country’s best 5k runners) and she said to think about it as not slaying demons, but dragons, and as a medievalist, I really liked that idea. The challenges that are ahead with writing and defending the dissertation are not insurmountable, nor are they bad. The demons are more of an internal struggle – trying to slay the doubt that comes with a challenging project.

I managed to slay one dragon this spring. After some tough feedback on a chapter I worked on last summer, I spent the spring semester revising this chapter and submitted it in May, hoping that the revisions were substantial enough to satisfy my advisor. For the past few weeks, I’ve checked my e-mail regularly (fanatically is more like it), hoping for a response and an indication that things were moving in the right direction. Today, I received the following response, It's a big improvement over the earlier draft I read….(specific feedback about content and structure)… In any event, I think the chapter has now taken good form. Now all it needs is a bit of prose polishing.

Victory! I nearly burst into tears with relief. I was sitting with one of my writing partners when it happened, and it was so wonderful to share it with him, because he can totally understand the trepidation and apprehension that comes with writing and revising.

There are hurdles along the way to the finish, and there is still much work to be done, but it is possible to slay dragons and conquer the castle!