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  • Kimberly Hula 7:27 am on February 22, 2016 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , 2016 Walt Disney World marathon, 26.2 miles, marathon, redemption,   

    “You must give everything to make your life as beautiful as the dreams that dance in your imagination.” 

    “The miracle isn’t that I finished. The miracle is that I had the courage to start.”
    ― John Bingham, No Need for Speed: A Beginner’s Guide to the Joy of Running

    2016 may seem to some like a bit of a paradox.  Here we have an encore of 2010 – a resolve to commit to a year of adventures so as to broaden our exposure to the world and challenge our inhibitions.  It’s a vast scope of work and one could argue that there are limitless adventures to undertake.  So why, in a world of such potential, would I elect to do something I’ve already done?

    12540870_10103628520318000_361795023563503039_nI haven’t defined an adventure because each experience is unique to the individual.  One man’s ‘been there, done that‘ is another’s worst fear confirmed.  Even more, I’m an adventuring one-hit wonder.  Despite my best efforts I can never replicate an experience.  The set up, the sensation, the reflection, all changes.  While this helps keep life spicy (see: experience, spice of life), it also comes at a cost.  You see, I think fondly on my past year of adventure.  Sometimes I’d do just about anything to feel as unencumbered as free as I did when I first jumped out of a plane, or spoke into a microphone, or fell in love.  These are the memories we’d sooner remake, so it was with some trepidation that I embarked on Adventure #2, and ran my first marathon in 11 years.

    (More …)

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  • Kimberly Hula 11:20 am on April 22, 2010 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , marathon   

    Searching for a Starting Block 

    “When it comes to other people, you can always come up with a reasonable explanation, but you can’t fool yourself.  In this sense, writing novels and running full marathons are very much alike.  Basically a writer has a quiet, inner motivation, and doesn’t seek validation in the outwardly visible.” (What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, pg. 10.)

    So spoke Murakami.
    I think that’s how I got into the running game – with a more road-ready inner motivation.  Although my foray into the athletic stage isn’t nearly as eloquent as Mr. Murakami’s.  Bascially, I used to work in restaurants.  Scores of restaurants (delis, diners, five stars, bars) that brought employees together in the only way they knew how: the back dock smoking lounge.

    People don’t peg me a smoker, and I can’t say I don’t appreciate their surprise.  When I worked in restaurants I worked long hours.  When one works long hours, one capitalizes on any and all breaks given them.  Which is to say, I smoked some cigarettes.  Daily.  

    But I wasn’t a portrait of long savory puffs in a darkened alley with the strong arm of a tall man in a driving cap around my waist.  No, no.  These were harried puffs amongst angsty bartenders and hostesses that did little to welcome or elevate friendships.  We just past the time in the only way we knew how.  And for us, that was enough.

    But, bad habits have a way of having a way with you.  So, I developed a sore throat and, as luck would have, three back to back shifts.  But, even more opportune, I had a 10 minute (10 minutes!) back dock break between shifts one and two and ran out to enjoy a smoke treat with Ellie.

    I still can’t attribute my dramatics to anything in particular, but just as I was about to light one up and take a drag something happened.  My mind completely rewired and I made a declaration.  A very loud declaration.  I told all the servers in proximity that I was going to change my life and quit smoking.  We were in tuxedos.  Near an oversized dumpster enjoying a brief reprieve and I was hollering about health and happiness.  No one said a word.  I think I was afraid no one would take me seriously so I threw my cigarette pack to the ground and jumped on them.  My jumps weren’t incredibly effective and still, no one had spoken, so I picked them up and lobbed them into the dumpster.  Only Ellie said, “I would have taken those.”

    And then… synapses.  Something fired in my mind.  I convinced myself in the span of Ellie’s sentence that I would have to do something representative of someone with good, clean lungs.  It was then I decided I would have to run a marathon. (More …)

     

    • faolan01 12:04 pm on April 22, 2010 Permalink

      Congrats! It must be so empowering to go from being a smoker to running a half marathon! Good luck with training for the Wine Glass Marathon!

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