Things that make my voice squeaky

Walking up 12 flights of stairs
Citrus
High fructose corn syrup
Dried up vocal chords
Vocal chords atrophied from disuse
Voodoo curses

Top 10 Epic Summer Moments

10. Brushing my teeth and NOT falling in the firepit.  (It was a close call.  camping.  no fire.)
9. Seeing the sun and wearing shorts.
8. Riding along an Oregon highway on a bike with only one brake and three gears (two of which I didn't know how to use).
7. Drinking cold, fresh cow milk and eating warm, fresh-baked cookies.
6. Taking a dunk in a stream supplied by glacial melt water.
5. When my mom had 4 different people shaking cream into butter for her at the family reunion.
4. Getting a chunk of firework in my eye on July 4th because we were so close.
3. Surprising my bff with a quickie visit.
2. "Grandma, grandma!"
1. Getting a flip flop tan.

Things I find comforting

Distant train whistles at night.
Fresh, smooth sheets.
Rain when I know I never have to leave home.
Tucking away in a corner somewhere to read.
Falling asleep while reading.
Wind in the pines by a high mountain lake.
Legs and lungs that ache from a good run.
The dry, crispness of a sleeping bag in the dappled shade.
Sunshine.
Soft sand and salty air on an Oregon beach.
Flowers, blossoms, and fresh herbs.
Mornings without a timeline.
Old photos and home videos.
Old Westerns filmed in the Sierra Nevadas.

what fundraising has taught me so far

With all this marathon fundraising, I've learned that (surprise, surprise) fundraising is hard!  As I talk to people about what I'm doing, it seems that at first most people don't understand that the $5000 is a minimum requirement, as in the John Hancock Marathon Non-Profit Program offers bib numbers to charities with the stipulation that each participant who gets one will raise at least $5000 for their designated charity (Samaritans doesn't have any say in it, it's just the program rules).  Most people also tell me that is crazy or unreasonable, but all the money goes straight to the charities.  The Boston marathon is in super high demand among runners and not all who qualify with their time even get to run in Boston. So I think this program is a very generous one toward the charities and a huge fundraising opportunity for them.  Whatever I don't raise I will just be paying since I don't want Samaritans to be penalized for choosing me to as a member of their team, but let me say it again, it's hard work!  Sometimes I crunch out the numbers: If 100 people gave $50 each, I'd be home free; 200 people would only have to give $25 each; 500 people giving $10 each would do the trick. Those are numbers I can work with, when I mix in some extra fundraising activities and the t-shirts if they sell well.

At the same time, with all this fundraising, I find myself feeling very humble and grateful.  I've decided to champion a cause I feel is worthy of supporting, and it's the first time I've ever done this kind of thing.   Every time someone donates, I feel an elation of gratitude, excitement at being one step closer to my commitment, and humility at the outpouring of generosity.  I've been very touched by the support so many people have shown me.  There is a lot of silence and rejection involved with fundraising, which makes it pretty discouraging at times, but I'm so excited for the Boston marathon, I believe suicide prevention is a cause that is worth it, and the support of so many people has lifted me so that I can keep working on both the training and the fundraising.  Thank you all.

Dream Deferred

A Dream Deferred
by
Langston Hughes

What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet? Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load. Or does it explode?

This poem always reminds me of high school AP English when I was a junior.  We had to write an essay about it, and to the disappointment of our teacher, most of us expounded on the mysteries of the unconscious mind at night.  Of all the brightest young minds of West Valley High School, only a couple students had the insight to speculate on how people react to goals and ambitions gone awry.  

Fast forward 20 years to the present:  this year I dared to dream big.  This year was meant to be the year of accomplishing goals, realizing dreams, and getting a fresh start.  In the forefront of this dream were my chance to run in the Boston marathon and the opportunity to start grad school in clinical psychology.  I started gearing up for the grad school part of it two summers ago, when I decided it was time to make a sincere stab at it.  I had a bit of a false start that fall, but I got myself an internship and started volunteering on a suicide hotline.  With some bouts of intense work, I got my applications in this last winter, and then waited to see what happened.  And who would've guessed it, but I got an interview at my top school!  The odds were so slim that I dared to hope it was meant to be and that some power greater than myself would help it all work out so I could start my new life as a grad student this fall.  

Part of my dream actually did come true: through my volunteer work on the Samaritans suicide hotline, I got the opportunity to be on their Boston marathon charity team.  After months of being in limbo as a backup runner, I finally got my own bib number, paid my entry fee, and became a full-on official Boston marathon charity runner.  This news sent me into ecstatic elation (dampened only slightly by the fear of whether I am truly able to raise the required $5000). The same week I learned my big dream of running THE Boston Marathon was coming true, I found out my dreams were also being deflated.  I wasn't chosen to join the clinical psychology lab I interviewed with, and without any other interviews in the works, grad school was a solid bust.  The consolation prize of being one of 700 invited to the department for interviews and one of 100 competing for the lone spot in that particular lab was not enough to placate the bitter disappointment of being so close I could touch my dream and then see it slip through my fingertips like sand.  Was it too good to be true?  I don't think so; I think it could just as easily have become a reality, but now it leaves me with the question, what happens to a dream deferred?  

That's where I am now: trying to weigh my dream, seeing what it looks like when I hold it up to the light, turning it over and looking for the leaks, figuring out what to make of it and where to go now.  At least for the moment, I still have the Boston marathon part of the dream strong and healthy, and I am all consumed with marathon training and fundraising, which is plenty a feat to keep me busy for the time being!  I'll soon figure out what the rest of my dream deferred looks like.

Boston Marathon or bust!

I *most likely* (fingers crossed) get to run in the Boston Marathon this coming spring for Samaritans!  Samaritans is a non-profit organization whose goal is to prevent incidence of suicide.  I am a volunteer with their Suicide Prevention Helpline, and it has been a challenging, eye-opening and incredible experience that has changed my life.  I am very excited to take my support one step further by fundraising and running in the Boston Marathon for Samaritans!  Please follow the orange "Donate Now" link to the right to learn more and support my efforts and this vital organization.

Thank you!

(The most likely is because right now I'm a backup runner, but for the past several years they have been able to secure extra bib numbers for the backup runners.  I am confident that will happen this year for me and am excited to help support Samaritans!)

The original alpaca project from May 2011