“Why are you so tired? You just haven’t seemed like much of yourself.”

Her words pierced my heart because this not-so-secret SECRET I’d been holding onto had finally started to present itself to the world. I remember having endless amounts of energy. I also remember when I was in high school, I went through weeks of less energy than normal, but I always equated it with hormonal shifts. During my early 20s, though, I started to notice extreme fatigue. I figured it was because of all of the added stress I put myself under and the lack of sleep I was getting. Once I graduated, though, I felt much better. I was tired, but not like before. After the birth of my second daughter, though, I noticed I struggled to find energy. Again, I chalked it up to being a mother to two adorable, precarious, and energetic small ones. However, something that seemed to become more and more common was the regularity in which I was contracting strep. I went from getting it once a year, to 3-4 times a year for the past few years.

Then my health continued to shift downward. I had vertigo. I discovered I had a Venus Cavernous Malformation. I have degenerative disk disease, likely cause by a fracture in my lower spine that I sustained when I was 4. I have asthma. And….I’m exhausted. Like I was hit by a truck exhausted. At the end of this summer, I went in to my doctor, with certainty that I had strep, yet again, but detailed everything else I had on my mind. She ran lots of blood work for me, ordered an MRI, and I waited for the results.

“Bianca, it appears that you have arthritis in your neck. I’m going to recommend pain management therapy, even though I’m sure you will decline.” She referred me to a pain management specialist, but I declined--for now. Just as I declined for my chronic back pain. I am able to live with the pain, so I don’t want to undergo injections until I really need it. But for now, I am able to manage just fine as long as I keep stretching. My doctor was ok with my decision for now and she was supportive of me. “Just keep moving, Bianca. That’s the best thing that you can do. Move within reason, though. Don’t go crazy!” she told me.

“Bianca, you don’t have anemia, but you do have low Ferritin.” Ferritin is the protein that iron binds to, so if is low, then you have lower iron. I show many traits of anemia, but I am not anemic. She encouraged me to shift my pescatarian diet to one that included red meat a couple of times a week. I tried it and I did feel more energy, but I also felt heavier and slower.

“Bianca, you have Epstein-Barr Virus. Actually, you have so many antibodies of it, that we can’t even measure it. Based on what I can tell, you have had EBV since  you were a teenager. Have you ever felt so tired you feel like you’ve been run over by a truck? Have you had a coffee for energy, but it doesn’t seem to work?” I nodded my head. “Well,” she said as she put her hand on me, “you have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. And right now, you are experiencing a really bad episode.”

I was shocked, but calmly asked what I could do, while letting out tiny sobs. She encouraged me to rest, while also smiling knowing that it would be very difficult for me to do that. She said, “Bianca, I’m going to need you to take a diet from life. Just pull back a bit and allow your body to heal, because you don’t know the long term damage that you could be causing by not resting when you need to. Please take a couple of days off from everything as you need to. Yes, I still want you to keep moving, but go at a different pace.” She said diet because no one likes to go on a diet. Change your diet, but not forcibly go on one, right? I like that my doctor knows me well enough to know the kind of person that I am—one that doesn’t want to rely on pills and medication and a person that is always on the go. Because I love to read medical journals and whitepapers for fun, I dove deep into the throes of learning all about EBV and CFS. I know what my indicators and triggers are. I know how to adjust and adapt. I do NOT yet know how to deal with slowing down. While I try to make myself be ok with it, when it is noticeable by others, inside, I’m upset and angry. I’ve run marathons. I’ve run half marathons. I’m a college athlete. I’m a mother. I’m a wife. I work in Corporate America. I’m also a photographer. I’m an event planner. I’m a writer. I’m an adventurer! I don’t have the time to have a diet for life. I don’t want a diet from life!

Here is where I issue a blanket apology to some: I’m sorry for the inner shade I threw at you when you caught me staring at you. Those of you who are absolutely healthy otherwise, but take it for granted and choose not to appreciate your unbroken body, yeah…those people, I was jealous of them. I was envious of their lack of guilt for not exercising, of all of the sleep they were having, of their poor dietary choices---and their lack of enjoyment for eating all of those things they let themselves eat, because dangit, I want to eat 3 honeybuns, too, but I can’t because I will totally feel it later. I’m sorry. I’m not a nice person when I’m hangry. I’m not a nice person when I’m hurting. Really, I just needed a hug. Then I would eat some chocolate and lay down.

Sometimes you meet people at the right moment when you are supposed to meet them.

Last month, I found myself in NYC eating brunch next to a friend of a friend. She and I were talking about various things and I noticed that she didn’t eat sugar, or grains, or even drank alcohol. She monitored her diet very carefully. So I asked her if she was gluten-intolerant or Celiac. She said no, that she suffers from Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. She told me how it consumed her body and as typical of CFS, it attacked the parts of her body that she used most—her brain and communication skills. You see, she is a writer and she recounted to me how difficult it was for her to focus to formulate a sentence, to have a clear brain to use her language skills. She knew of the words, but she was unable to articulate and recall her vocabulary. Also, she said she had little to no energy to even get out of bed. She also told me of her friend who was a dancer, who lost the ability to to use her legs. She wasn’t paralyzed, but her legs were too heavy, too stiff, too painful to move. So she went into further detail of her dietary changes, which was a supplement to a treatment she’d received back in her native country (not at all approved for by the FDA). We had to depart, but her words stuck with me.

Then, less than a week after that, I had a discussion with a friend of mine who went through a dietary detox to reset her health. She actually went through a specific program, but as we talked more and more about the details, I was going to simplify it and determined to give it a try. It gave her great results for her health goals (not weight loss), so I told myself that November 1 would be the day I would start. It would also give me the opportunity to mindfully eat and to consider those who do not have food immediately at their disposal. Leading up to the first, though, was a vacation in Sonoma with friends and family. I ate and drank without restriction and with passion. However, I also suffered as a result from it. I felt so incredibly bloated, slow, and fat. I was exhausted, I had headaches, and body aches. I look at images from that trip and while I am truly happy, I am not at all happy with my shape. On Halloween, I stepped on a scale and was horrified by the number that was looking back at me. But this isn’t about fitness or weight, so I won’t fixate on that. I will, however, say that CFS took a big toll on me in recent months, both physically and mentally.
What was my diet?

• Vegan
• No dairy---no cheese, no milk, no butter (aaaack)
• No animals of any kind. No animal broth. No fish.
• No rice
• No caffeine…including coffee
• No sugar—raisins were ok, but no honey, nothing with added sugar in it.
• No grains
• No alcohol
• Coconut oil for everything.

I had to prepare, yes, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought. (I did however miss eggs!) HUGE shout out to my support group who encouraged me by suggesting recipes, trying out juice, or just giving me a thumbs up.

Breakfast:

I made my own cereal of equal parts flaxseed and chia seed. I mixed in 3/4 cup of coconut milk and heated it for one minute in the microwave. I topped it with banana.
Kale Yeah juice from Whole Foods: kale, pineapple, banana, orange juice

Lunch:

Salads topped with beets, black beans, garbanzo beans, and half an avocado

Snack:

the other half of my avocado and plain hummus or sometimes artichoke and olive hummus

Dinner:

Quinoa with some type of vegetable medley

Vegetable soup

The goal was to make it to at least 10 days. On day 8, I caved and ate eggs, but I was strict with everything else! I was happy to know that eggs didn’t bother me. On day 11, I tried a bit of dairy. It didn’t affect me too negatively, but I did notice a change. On that day I also tried a glass of champagne. I took all I had to finish the glass and I immediately noticed adverse reactions. My intestines felt like they were on fire. The next day, I felt sluggish and I had a headache. Immediately, I went for my Kale Yeah juice to see if it would help and it did. But something else happened. I came across this article about EBV. Yes, I saw it was on Goop and rolled my eyes, too, but I strongly suggest you read it, especially if you suffer from CFS, Rheumatoid Arthritis, or Fibromyalgia. Much of what I took from it was the simple truth that I’d experienced first-hand. I had to change my diet. Yes, I still need rest, but I also need plants---whole, organic, non-GMO, plants as my medicine. I’ve already lost 10+ pounds, but I’m not hungry. I want a piece of chocolate and I would like some coffee, but I’m not hungry for them. Other friends who I’ve known who have adopted a plant-based diet---more than 95% plant based and cutting out all of the other stuff---have also noticed a significant improvement/positive shift in their health.

As for me, I’m gonna keep trying. I want to make it to 80, but not just arrive, but I want to dance and run into 80.

While I’m still sore from smiling and running…

I did it! I had the wildest and most amazing marathon retirement party ever! But first, let me start with this…

I didn’t make my goal time. I aimed for a 4:40 finish. I trained for it, even left some cushioning in my training for a 4:45 minute finish. I ran in temperatures over 100 degrees. I ran in wind. I ran in rain. I trained in the Texas summer heat. I cross trained through Camp Gladiator and followed Coach Sara’s plan each week. I tapered like I was supposed to. I sought chiropractic relief. I altered my hydration and diet, too. In my training, I gained back the confidence to run a 10mm pace for a half marathon. I had the confidence to run a 10:30-11mm pace WITH HILLS. I lost weight and shook off a large chunk of depression.

I didn’t make my goal time. My finish was 5:10:51, a full 11 minutes slower than 7 years ago for my other time of running this.

BUT…

I did it! This race was EVERYTHING I needed from a final race. It was brutal! Why? The conditions were low 40s with 20-30 mph winds. The winds were so high that they didn’t even allow the handcycles to start in Staten Island, cutting off the Verrazano Bridge entirely for them. I opted to walk that bridge, braving the masses, but staying on the side out of harms way, or so I thought. I was pelted with discarded gloves, water bottles, makeshift windbreakers from garbage bags, a race bib (!), a fuel belt, and sweat shirts. I fought against the wind to get this image:

See those white caps. See those clouds? Brrr…(my lungs started wheezing moments after snapping this. Inside I cursed them and said, Not today!)

And we fought through that wind, running against it for about 20 of those miles, and then we were faced with uphill, no sun, tired legs. Before that, though…

I caught those unicorns I’d been chasing for a while!

I sat in that huddle of people to stay warm before the race. Robin Hood, you guys continue to touch my soul!

I stood in my corral waiting for that BOOM of the cannon and Frank Sinatra to belt out “New York, New York” while we ran past.

I nervously chatted with a local gal, a gal from Atlanta, and 3 women from Argyle, Texas! Wow!

I humbly wore the discarded Dunkin Donuts fleece hat that I had to cut a hole out of the top so my hair would fit.

At mile 13 I took a selfie in the sun!

At mile 15.5 I knew I was still plenty strong.

At mile 19.5 I took another selfie in the sun.

My face hurt from smiling so much! I ran strong! I ran my race. I ran with so many strangers cheering me along the way. I ran while my loved ones cheered me on both in person and through social media. I ran for all of them and for myself. The race was what I needed. It was a metaphor, a true test of determination, strength, endurance, and will. I didn’t really hit a wall. My lungs did feel like they wanted to collapse at one point. I lost feeling of my 3rd toe on my left foot around mile 8. At mile 9-10, I ran alongside my Teej! I saw her and nearly knocked her down because I was so happy to see her. I cried and cried, and squeezed so tightly. She ran in the crowd next to me, and when she hit her street, she hollered “Go!” and I went. At mile 11, I saw my Beloved!! He’d landed and made it to me. At mile 13 I messaged my beautiful friend on bedrest, who was cheering me on, texting me messages of support along the way! I hopped on social media at mile 15-16. I saw a few more familiar faces and beautiful souls at mile 17-19! At mile 20, Robin Hood’s block party erupted in cheers when they saw my shirt! I felt like such a celebrity! I had a pinched nerve in my right shoulder starting at mile 21. But I kept right on pushing. I ran to the Asian drummers beat. I high fived one of the rappers who was performing. I high fived as many kids as I could along the way. I held hands with a gal who was running to honor her mother at mile 23---she’d died on October 28th from cancer. I hugged a Swiss guy whose legs were giving out. I was going so fast, I missed My Michael at mile 24, but I saw my Beloved again at mile 24.5.  I put my phone away after that and focused on finishing. I happily ran under the foliage of My park, Central Park. We emerged out of park a bit after 25 and I saw the GM building…Maverick! I’ve walked MANY times to Columbus Circle, time to pick up the pace! (Screw you, lungs, stop sucking air, we have a race to finish!) I spotted people to try to reach and pass and I did. When I hit mile 26, I shouted BRING IT! and took off at an accelerated pace for that last quarter mile. I passed so many people and felt so light. When I crossed, I didn’t cry in my photos. I just beamed with the biggest smile. That was it.

I did it! 5 hours, 10 minutes, and 51 seconds of happy…happy that isn’t artificial, genuine happiness from achievement and support from more than 200 people! All 200+ of you that know me directly who reached out….

THANK YOU, MERCI, GRACIAS, DOMO ARI GATO, DANKE, GAMSAHBNIDA, GRAZIE!!!

The lady who handed me my medal, she was an older woman, and I just stared at her, and asked her for a hug. And she hugged me tightly like my abuela, and told me that she was so proud of me! Thank you strange lady! Thank you for being proud of me and giving me such a hug! And then I sobbed. Big, fat, joyful tears of happiness and sense of accomplishment.

The trek to my room was a journey all by itself. But I got to see my Beloved again before he headed out to the airport. I was able to laugh and recover with My Michael and Gen at a tea place. I was able to talk about the journey with my running friends and hosts after they returned themselves. The next day, I was tight, but I walked around my park for a while capturing engagement photos (yes, I had an engagement photo shoot and it was amazing!!). I had some amazing food, I had a blowout, and then I came home.

I’m tight, but not overly sore. Only my toe is really hurting, but I feel fine. It was a great retirement and the perfect way to say goodbye to my final endurance run. And now, I pass on the torch to everyone else who is able to do so! I will cheer them on!

Coach Sara…you helped me earn every single bit of this race! THANK YOU! Coach Mark, our time so far has been brief, but you helped me, too! Running friends, thank you for pushing me, even when you didn’t know you were. Mom, thank you for throwing me in the deep end and telling me to swim. Daddy, thank you for never slowing down when we raced! Thank you NYC for showing up, like you always do. I know I can make it anywhere!

2014 TCS NYC Marathon Miles Dedication

religion: a particular system of faith and worship

To me, running is a type of religion. Not because I’m worshipping the god of running, but because rather it is a system of faith and worship. I am wholly present in my mind, my acts intentional, my faith LOUD—within me.
So while I run, it should come as no surprise that I often find myself meditating, holding tightly onto mantras I chant to myself, I’ll pray the rosary, but where I find the absolute BEST peace is when I consider and pray for others. With that in mind, these are my miles dedications.

1. My mother – The first mile is the most exciting mile. It requires the highest climb, with the freshest legs, and the most enthusiasm that you will have to control to make it through the rest of the race. Wings to fly, legs to run…Mom, I remember all of the times you were in my peripheral vision, cheering me, championing me, willing me to strive to be the best I could possibly be. Hurt back, push through. Fall down, pick yourself and keep moving forward. Crying, wipe your tears and smile. This is a race of endurance and motherhood is such a race.

2. Sister – For all of my childhood, I chased you. Literally and figuratively, I chased you to become more like you. When you pushed me away, it hurt, but it taught me that I needed to be my own person—and whomever that was, you would be there to support me, regardless of my choice. This mile, is an easy mile, through a Brooklyn neighborhood that I know you would enjoy visiting.

3. Brother – Because there was a time not long ago that you didn’t think you could run a 5K, and just a short while ago, I turned around to find you, insisting that I NEEDED to cross that line with you. Not because I didn’t think you could do it, but because I wanted to grin from ear to ear and witness you crossing! All of those times you cheered for me and watched me succeed, I needed to be there for a big moment for you. This mile, we run together, not racing, just running on a cool morning while the sun kisses our cheeks. Turn up that Milky Chance Stolen Dance and let’s find our groove.

4.  Tesla – You will be 4 next year, even though you want to say you are 4 this year. You were the 4th member of my family. Your tiny spirit brings so much joy to everyone who meets you. You are so unabashedly stubborn and are so completely focused on your goals , it is something that I try to remember for myself.Baby, Mommy loves you and can’t wait for you to see the new medal to add to the collection!

5. My Brooklyn Beauties – Gen, Mali, Teej, I’ll be looking for you. Each of you inspire me in so very many different ways. All of you are so very strong, both emotionally and physically, I’m running your burough’s streets!

6.  Marisabelle – For you I learned what it meant to be a mother. Because of you, I try my hardest to be the very best mother you need me to be. You show me grace, you show me patience, you have given the the opportunity of wonder…and when I feel like my legs are heavy, I’ll remember your little voice, goading me: “Let’s race, Mommy! I can be fast like you!” Yes, baby, you compliment me by saying you are fast like me. You are already faster than me—and I love it!

7. Internet Friends – I was afforded in real life friendships with you and am able to maintain our friendship online. This means you Camille from Twitter, who shares a similar humor as I do. This also means you Makita, who has a beautiful and vulnerable strength I’ve not seen before—because of you, I am stronger in my actions and more purposeful.

8. For Diego, Kittens, & Unicorns – Diego went on a few of my early training runs with me, fumbling through each step until we figured it out. Your time with us was brief, but your tender spirit lives on. Kittens because well, I’m not allergic to them yet and they are so soft and adorable, and just want to curl up to be loved. Unicorns because they are fabulous and awesome!

9. For my Primo, Simon – Nine rhymes with wine and well, I know you love it! Simon, your wit, your but gusting laughter, and the wine….oh so much wine! I know if you were in town, you’d be cheering for me, throwing water balloons filled with some kind of libation at me, singing Fuego fuego…

10. My Min-Min – You’ve not questioned my sanity for wanting to do this. Instead, you’ve reached out to me to be sure we remain connected in spite of me running all of the miles all of the time. Whether you are there waiting for me at the end of the race with jello shots ready to share a hearty carb-load meal, you are there for me. Even now, I know you will be shouting from where ever you are enjoying Sunday Funday.

11. Margie – Adelante y orgullo: I only barely understood the definition of those words when I first chewed on them. Now, I understand them more. I can’t hardly get the words out to write more because the emotion just flows straight from my heart and out of my eyes. Happy tears of joy and gratitude. I’m so, so, so grateful for you!! I give thanks for your life, for your willingness to fight and continue to fight, every day.

12. Shannon – What a pleasure it was to find you at mile 12 during the Plano Balloon Festival Half. I was struggling, but with you, I was able to push through that final mile. Your exercise posts keep me accountable and remind me to not lazy around.

13. My Happy Half Marathoners – Each of you, declaring publicly which races you would run and peer pressure would kick in and I’d sign up. Mostly to ensure I’d hit my training run milestones, but even more so to be with you all. I didn’t and don’t want to miss any time I get with y’all. For the laughs, the grunts, the aches, the tears, the hugs, the encouraging words, the hilarity of so many things…thank you Dina, Meighan, Alison, Gail, Bonnie, and Danika. A great big heartfelt and SHOUTING dedication to Coach Sara, who has pushed me all along the way, encouraged me, and come up with creative solutions for any obstacle I threw at her!

14. Dan – I had no idea how much my life would change just by meeting you. My heart is more open, my eyes more open, my spirit willing to experience almost anything, entering the adventure with joy and enthusiasm. Just the way you live is a great example of how I want to live. I’m so glad you are not only my friend, but a mentor as well.

15. My extended family – I’m grateful for all of the strong aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, in-laws. Each of you have sent me words of encouragement! They mean so much to me. I consider the women in my life and how life will throw them a curve, and they just shrug their shoulders and deal. it’s how they are. When my Uncle Mutt gave me the biggest hug after a run and how he looked at me, I felt his pride and I was humbled. He reminded me of my previous life as an athlete in college and I remembered that she was still inside of me. My Aunt Frances cheering me on, giving me support, too! Thank you!

16. My Primo Phillip – Because this was the number of miles we walked that day in August while we cheered Don on. If I could have that much fun walking 16 miles in one of my most favorite cities, then I know I could run another 10 as long as I remembered the adventure we shared. Thank you, thank you, thank you for sharing that day with me!

17. Carol – Your presence helped my training become possible. Otherwise, it would’ve been a greater challenge attempting to push the girls and log my miles. Your life changed dramatically at 17 and since then, you’ve persevered and thrived. I hope you see it that way because so many admire you, as I do. Thank you for all you did and all you do!

18. My Einstein’s Crew – Especially the Saturday morning gals! Renee for the distractions and laughter and Marisa for that last quarter mile sprint to finish strong! Fist bump!

19. My Inner Circle – You all know who you are. We may not see one another often. Sometimes it is in the parking log of a Dry Cleaner, on the phone on my way to the doctor office, for a quick bite to eat, when our kiddos play dress up, when I watch your daughter play volleyball, when we paint together, when we go camping, when we go cruising, when we meet for wine night, when we celebrate our kid’s birthdays…regardless, you are my family. For the big moments, you all are there! This one is for you!

20. Nina Dani – You never let a little thing like sleep or asthma or money get in the way of a good time. You are so giving and humble, for those traits and so many others, we chose you to be our daughter’s godmother. For believing in me, and telling me to shake off the haters.

21. My Beloved – You arrive at noon and will race to find me at some point along the way. Each training race, you have helped me recover by allowing for some quiet rest. During our training runs. you run ahead of me, letting me chase you, forcing me to be better. You believe in my dreams and champion me. You push me to find amazing and are there right by my side when I discover it. Thank you for this adventure!

22. My Michael – New York!! You are there now and it is near this mile you will find me. I love you and I can’t wait to see your face and laugh. I know there will be a great many more trips out to see you in the future, too! I already love the memories we’ve created there, so far.

23. Ada – Because Bianca Fight Never Dies, because running is stupid and why would any one want to do something like that outside when you can be crushing balls in the air conditioning, because people are idiot drivers who merge in the fast lane only to go slower than the speed limit, because of Whataburger taquitos, because of acorns on the ground, because “I’m like a bird,” because of cherries, because of tears of joy and tears of ache, because I am whole all over again when you hug me. This one is for you!

24. Lindsey – My Bish, my friend, even though you think I’ve lost my mind in doing this, you know that it was gone a longer time before that! I may be doing a type of zombie-like run at this point. I will endeavor to champion my inner zombie, made evident by your crew.

25. My Mavericks – Their financial and emotional support has been overwhelming and, as always, humbling. I have raised nearly $7,000 (and counting) for Robin Hood, largely because of their support. Amazing! When I turn the corner by the NY office, I will smile proudly and fondly knowing so many of my colleagues are cheering me on!

26. Daddy – The race is won by running. I will not give up. In the thundering echoes of the roaring crowd, I will hear your voice. I will keep going and know that THIS race…Life, I don’t give up. Even when I feel down, I am a VALENCIANO, I lift my chin, I look it square in the eye and say, “Bring it!”

.2. Me…that last quarter mile is for me. A celebration of what I’ve achieved and a moment of definition, of closure, and gleeful gratitude to my body. Thank you self, for this. You had many doubts if you could do it, but still you managed to get there.

I have asthma. I am an athlete.

Hello, I’m Bianca. Some of you know me already. Many others don’t.
Right now I’m training for my second marathon, slated to happen on November 2, 2014. I live in Texas and it gets incredibly hot. This summer, we’ve been lucky and it hasn’t been as bad as it typically is. That isn’t to say that it hasn’t had hot days. Those hot days really affect me. I have had fits of frustration and anger in the middle of my runs. I don’t like having to stop mid-run.

I have asthma.

What does that mean? What is it like? Well, for me, it is like not being able to get a breath. Imagine having a coffee stirrer straw in your mouth, then go out and sprint, breathing only through that straw, not using your nose. Sometimes, attempting a deep breath isn’t possible. Sometimes, you get the deep breath, but then the coughs start. Always, the next day the lungs are sore. I have a love/hate relationship with my inhaler. My inhaler lets me run. It opens the pathways and makes me feel strong. But the next day, my lungs feel like they’ve taken a beating from the inside by a gaggle of angry parasites throwing tiny stones. I arch my back several times, trying to pop it and open the chest cavity. I lace my shoes, and hit the pavement again.

I am a runner.

I have the same questions as many other people when running. We run around like hormonal teenagers, shifting moods in an instant. Why am I doing this? What is the point? It is so hot. It is so early. It is so cold. No, it is really early! Look, people are just getting home from their nights of revelry. My feet hurt. My feet are covered with blisters. My feet are covered with thick callouses. My knees hurt. I love these tiny bags of ice. Oooooh…a sale on running gear. This sports bra is fancy. I love the way these purple leggings feel. This unicorn tank top really allows great air flow to stay cool. I LOVE my purple spibelt. Oh wow, deodorant DOES work when you don’t have Glide. These socks are so fun. These socks suck, they give me blisters. No, these shoes give me blisters. Puff…I love my inhaler. My spibelt really does fit my inhaler, phone, chapstick, travel glide, and bloks wonderfully. Ahhh…my body hurts. It’s so early. Meh, it’s only 6 miles. Gahhh….4 miles again? I hate hills, they suck. Oooh, yaaay hills, they make me stronger. Fartleks? giggle Speed work…noooooo!!! Oh goody, speedwork day! Is it raining outside? I will wear my trail shoes. Where are my yurbuds? I need my yurbuds! Dangit, I don’t have connectivity to Spotify. Download your running mix from Spotify. Oooh, a running skirt? Is it in purple? I will never forget my glide again. Those shorts suck. I chafed so hard. Oooh, are those shorts in purple?  I wish my inhaler came in purple.
Somewhere in the middle of all that, you get the calm. You get the clarity. For me, it is like the world hits pause and all I hear are the cadence of my steps, tick-tick-ticking against the ground below me. My mind’s eye joins my seeing eyes, and I can pay witness to all of the splendor my maker has created before me. My lungs work. My legs are strong. My demon-voices leave my brain, replaced with the memories of cheers from my loves. My heart is happy. I give gratitude for I am able to run when others cannot. For them, I offer up my run. For them, I consider so much. Then I see my babies, my two daughters who look to me for guidance. I run for them. I see my Beloved. I run towards him, chasing him. He never gets so far ahead that I can’t see him. He somehow knows the wheeze and will slow. Quietly. Slowly. He waits for me, patiently, gives me an encouraging look. At the end of the training run, I get the high five reward. During races, each high five I get reminds me of that reward high five. I keep going. Each “Go Bianca” I think of my mother, my best friends, my sister and brother, my father, my daughters, my family, my friends. I keep going. My lungs hurt, my legs hurt. I keep going. Sweat stings my eyes, tears will stream down my face. I keep going. “Bianca fight never dies” is what I tell myself…even when I have to stop and walk. I keep going. “Hills are made for conquering” is what I tell myself…even when I have to pause at the top to catch my breath. I keep going.

I keep going. I keep going. I keep going. I am an athlete. I keep going.

(me on top of my favorite rock-hill in Central Park in Manhattan)

******************
This runner has an amazing write-up for running with asthma: http://www.lifesawheeze.com/p/running-with-asthma-101.html
I’m raising money for Robin Hood again! As of today, I’m $15 shy of $2000!!! I’m so humbled. Feeling generous? https://www.crowdrise.com/RobinHoodNYC2014/fundraiser/biancasias
Leave me a comment with a word of encouragement. I will carry your words with me in my heart when I run. And may literally carry them with me in a printed out piece of paper to keep going.

2014: Birthday Month: Giveaway 1

Giveaway 1: Coffee & Pens

Did you know I visit a coffee shop at least once a week to write? I started a novel back when I was nearing the end of university life. It long sat dormant, but over the course of this past year, I’ve opened up quite a creative tap and have discovered lots of content and characters that will forever be immortalized. Today’s giveaway is inspired by delicious hand-crafted coffee & my favorite pens.

To enter this giveaway, comment with your favorite coffee drink. I will draw a winner on Tuesday evening, June 3. You can comment on the blog and on Facebook. Only two entries per person, unless you were one of the lucky six who have been automatically entered to each of the drawings already! Good luck.

	$5 gift card to a local coffee shop. I know all of you have them. If you sign up for this one, let me know the name of the shop you frequent and I’ll get in touch with them to buy you for favorite latte or other fancy drink.
	Uniball Vision Elite pen in purple. A pen, really? Duh, you know I love to write! This pen is my favorite right now. Plus, the purple is a bit muted so a black purple. Very chic.

 

 

**I will be buying each of the items to giveaway. No product sponsorships were granted to me. I just love this stuff!**

Look for the light

"Mama, why are you taking a picture of the sky?"
Look baby, right there. See that break? There's always light. You don't always see it, but it is there, I promise. See how the sun makes the clouds pop, giving them texture and definition? The light is what defines, so always look to the light.
"Mama, I'm gonna need some more white to add to my paintings. The light really does make everything so pretty!"
Yes, Sugarbug, absolutely.

___________________________________________________________

Even though we were running late, I took a moment to stop and stare at the beauty before me. I was mesmerized, and to my daughter, I’m sure she sat in her seat wondering what was happening, hence our conversation. I took a deep breath, and drove her to school. Our commute is short. Carpool line drop-off makes it fast. But today, I pulled up much slower than normal, grateful to all of the pedestrians. I stared at my little one in the rearview mirror, unapologetic for the tears that were forming in my eyes. She was wearing a navy shirt with pink and white writing, a turquoise skort, her long hair in braided pig tails. Her eyes bright, her heart full of love, her spirit inquisitive. How did I get to be so blessed? Where has the time gone? Every single day, I give a little more silent thank-yous to my parents. In spite of all of the internal struggles I had, despite all of the difficult life-lessons, they were there to hold me close, love me—even when I didn’t think they were there. They were, without hesitation.

Open Letter to my Sugarbaby on her 3rd birthday

My dear sweet Tesla Jane,

It is hard for me to accept that three years have flown by in a hurry! Last night, when I kissed you goodnight, I paused to stare for a moment. I took a deep breath. Three years. Wow, what a ride. And you, my sweet girl, embrace all that is given to you...in your very own way. You have quite a little personality, but can be incredibly shy. Your vocabulary and comprehension levels are outstanding. You say these unintentional puns or quote things that are quite fitting and absolutely hysterical. Once I was having a frustrating moment. You could tell. You just looked at me, and erupted into "Let it go!!!" yeah, I needed to let it go and you were a good reminder for that.

We welcomed a new addition to our family in the past 6 weeks. In that time, you and Diego Jack have become best of friends! He follows you along. Together, with your sister, you all have spent hours and hours in our backyard!

You also enjoy drawing, taking things apart, helping out with chores (you are a great helper!), and having fun. You play and play and play. "Little Einstein's" is your favorite show. You love it when I do your hair. You still enjoy playing with my hair. You know what? Every time you do, I melt! You've done that same things since you were a newborn. You don't clutch and pull on my hair, you just gently pet it or run your fingers through it. I've since made it a point to have my hair brushed so you can calm yourself with it.

Your soul is gentle. You enjoy singing in church with a loud and clear voice. You also enjoy dancing in church to the music. No, not just church. You very much enjoy dancing. Right now, you are 36.5 inches tall and weigh 32 pounds. You enjoy eating pizza, berries, and most any kind of sugar we will give you. You like the crunch of corn tortillas, but say they very much hurt your throat. We think you have a gluten intolerance like your father, so we've been limiting your gluten intake and have noticed much improvement in your eczema. Your hair is still very, very curly, your eyes, a bright brown with splashes of yellow/green.

Your daddy and I are so excited to see all of the awesome experiences you will share with us this year, witness first-hand your discoveries, and smile proudly in wonder!

all my love!
-Mama.

2014: Adelante

I was asleep by 9:30 PM on New Year’s Eve. By my side was my youngest daughter (my Beloved is a part-time server and was out working that evening), and my eldest was tucked in bed. At 10:45, my mother called me to wish me a Happy New Year…East Coast time. And the next hour and a half, the flood of love poured through my phone. Phone calls and texts flooded through. At 11:58, my Beloved called me and on the phone, we celebrated together. In that moment, happy tears, gratitude, and joy because I could hear the elation of everyone there in the restaurant. HAPPY NEW YEAR!

My one little word this year is Adelante. This word is very powerful and holds special meaning to me. In fact, is one of the title words in a book I’ve been working on for the better part of a decade, that I fully intend to revisit this year. For you non-Spanish speakers, it means forward. But more than just forward…

forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead…philippians 3:13

Moving forward, moving ahead, moving in the direction that you want to go. I’ve pretty much done this my entire life, but now…now my focus is less on self and more on raising those around me, helping to push them forward. I’m constantly making goals: quarterly, yearly, 5 years, 10 years. The new year is just another starting point, a frame of reference to guide along the way. Goals for this year include travel to both coasts and possibly one international trip, writing, trying new recipes, new product reviews, monthly dates with my Beloved, quarterly artistic dates with my Sugarbean, launching a new project, and being more involved with my faith.

Happy new year to all of you! May this year be filled with infinite laughter, love, and light. Let’s go have an adventure.

2013…

What a year. I’m grateful for the life I’ve been given, the incredible people in my life (especially the guy by my side), and the opportunities & adversities I have face this year. I prepared myself for 2013, choosing the word COURAGE as my one little word. I had no idea the ways it would present itself to me.


I took a bit of a hiatus from writing my thoughts in this medium, popping in and out only in moments (really 47 posts for the ENTIRE year??). I had to take a few months to process some very personal things. Rather than spewing my most personal thoughts on the interwebs (like really, who wants to read all of that? who needs to read all of that? I’m not that important.), I took some time to write them the old fashioned way, pen and paper, and loads of self-conversations while running. I probably could have published some of it on here, but it boiled down to a simple concept. I have been blessed with a gift. Rather than use words as weapons to destroy (no matter how vindicated or justified I’d feel in spewing so much snark), I’d rather use words to motivate or uplift (because who wants to hold onto that negativity? I have certainly felt a huge weight lifted from my shoulders when I finally released some of my demons. Too much baggage, gah!). Instead of sharing what I saw as my own truth, I opted to contain it so as to not hurt others and myself. It took a great deal of courage for me to come to that decision, especially when I felt like I was being attacked. Then again, when you are in the thick of things, it is easy to latch onto the smallest of things and run with it until you are positively insane. We’ve all been there, consumed by madness! In any case, I wanted to say thank you to all of my friends and family who lifted me up. Many of you reading this had no idea that the tiniest bits of things you’ve posted online, texted me, emailed, written, tiny gestures…meant so very much to me when I was feeling quite low. If you feel compelled to share exciting news or come across a phrase that motivates/inspires you, then share it. You have no idea the ripples you create in doing just that!

I had the courage to embrace my imperfections. I began to appreciate that I was a broken pot, used to water the plants along the side of the road. I hadn’t really understood my own rippling effect, until I was forced to push pause on my life an reflect. I’m gonna own that as a major win. I’m also going to celebrate that I kept on keeping on.

These were the goals I’d set forth and nearly accomplished them all. (We didn’t go camping and I flew on aerial silks instead of a trapeze):

These are my major accomplishments for the year:

1. I jumped out of a plane and lived.
2. I ran a half marathon and amazed myself with my finish time. (I even amazed myself with my 5K improvements.)
3. I saw my eldest off to her first day of school.
4. I also witnessed her happily read her first several books to me.
5. I also cried a great many tears of joy after she completed her first 5K with an average pace of 12 minute miles (she’s 5!!!).
6. I witnessed our youngest master potty training and running her first mile in a race with a 13 minute mile pace (outstanding! She’s 2!).
7. I also saw her vocabulary expand exponentially. She also knows how to flip off of the ottoman, jump on one foot, dance whenever music is playing, and sings along to the radio.
8. I went to a great number of concerts, even scoring a media pass to document the experience.
9. I had a year’s worth of dates with my Beloved (at least one a month). Several of them were overnight dates, too!
10. I visited California 3 times, dug my toes in the sand, climbed a mountain (twice), and sat under the redwoods breathing it all in.
11. I got a new car!
12. I hosted my very own 5K for my birthday (and will be doing it again in 2014).
13. I survived the health scare of my fractured vertebrae and venous cavernous malformation.
14. I let go of personal aches, made peace with my past, and found myself better for it.
15. I began a type of art therapy for myself by incorporating devotions/scripture in a journal.
16. I drank a lot of coffee. ha ha!
17. I worked out a lot with my Beloved.
18. I started to incorporate skills from my professional life and began a new project that will hopefully launch next year.
19. I had SO MUCH TIME with my bests!!! It wasn’t weeks on end, but hours, certainly, and such good quality hours, too!
20. I ate a lot of really good food!
21. I tried to grow a garden, which basically amounted to basil.
22. I held two new babies birthed by my friends (even helping one of them through pre-labor).
23. I stood next to my nephew/godson as he was Confirmed this year.
24. I had my first ever facial…which is big because I don’t like anyone touching my face.
25. Embraced gluten-free cooking/baking and have had much success!

Whew.

Cheers to 2014! Looking forward to it!

Fall Out of a Plane and Live (Check): 14 Tips for First-Time Skydivers

So this happened on my girls trip to California…

Yeah, right? Out of my mind, some of you may be thinking. The other half of you are like, “cool, I’ve done that! so rad.”

It was definitely an experience, let me tell you. First off, let it be known that this was NEVER, EVER, NOPE, NOT EVER on my bucket list of things to do before I died. BUT, then why did I do it? Well, just because it was never on the list didn’t mean that it couldn’t be a source for me to conquer my fear of heights. And just the day before, I did this…

I hiked up (and down, which was more treacherous than going up!) Cowles Mountain and crawled out to the ledge, stood up high on that rock, and jumped in the air. Moments after, I bawled like a baby. Why? Because I overcame my fear. I was shaking nervously, grateful to have my BFF with me so we could talk, and keep me distracted from the increased elevation. When we made it to the top, I knew I had to crawl out to the ledge to snap that photo. I just had to!

Which takes us back to the skydiving adventure.

Here are my own personal Skydiving tips that I think you would find helpful if you’ve wanted to do this or are considering skydiving. I am not a professional, these are some things that came to mind immediately:

1. Wear something comfortable like running tights/capris…think workout clothes.
2. It will only be cold for moments.
3. You will spend a long amount of time filling out the necessary paperwork. Don’t bitch about it, you’re totally going to be falling out of a plane, duh. You need that legal stuff.
4. Don’t only have coffee right before. A light meal would be nice.
5. Having something light to have on hand immediately afterwards would be good.
6. If you don’t like those g-force spins on roller coasters, you won’t like the spins you will make once the chute is deployed.
7. If you have that, then odds are, you will suffer from motion sickness. If you have vertigo, you will be laid out for at least a week.
8. Embrace the motion sickness. You totally fell out of a plane and lived!
9. If you puke, that’s ok. It’s why the tandem guys wear helmets. For the record, I didn’t get sick.
10. If you are only going to do it once, then splurge for the photos and video (money well spent).
11. Keep your eyes open and see the beauty of God.
12. Amazing perspective from that high in the sky.
13. I felt like I was Ironman flying in the sky to save the world. I wasn’t falling, I was flying!
14. Arch your back, everything else will be fine.

And here's my video of it all.
Bianca Skydives Over San Diego from Bianca Sias on Vimeo.

A very special thank you to my dear Danika who hosted us, drove us out there, and cheered us on (and nursed me back to health, too!), as well as my BFF Lindsey, who came up with the idea, and kept me committed to my One Little Word: COURAGE.

Hiding in the Closet…Literally

Yesterday, I had a rough day. Not because of any one singular thing. Everything that I needed to process forced itself to the surface and erupted into the mother of all headaches, nearly triggering a migraine. I could do nothing but sit in silence and cry a little.

Except I’m a mother.

I have an exceptionally wonderful husband who recognizes these moments and can sweep our girls away. Last night, when everything got to the point where I couldn’t function well, I knew I had to put myself in time-out. My girls were busying themselves by taking turns playing “doggie” (one is the dog and the other gives commands to the dog or throws a ball to play fetch…they do this nearly every day, which comes with a reminder from them that they want/need a dog). I snuck away to our room and hid in our closet. I didn’t want to interrupt my Beloved while he prepared our dinner. (Yes, he was making dinner! He cooks nearly every night of the week. God, I love that man!) I sent him a text to let him know where I was.

laying down on shoes. on the floor of our closet. light turned on because sometimes I’m afraid of the dark.

When I was little, my father and I would play hide and seek in the house. I always  hid in the closet. Often falling asleep in there. I loved the feel of the many textures of the clothes and shoes. I also enjoyed the way the clothes smelled with the mixed leather smell of his loafers and my mother’s pumps. I’ve always found great comfort in the closet. No surprise at all that I would feel safe in there during threatening tornado weather.

I’m in the closet for maybe five minutes before our girls discover me. I asked them to give mommy a few minutes. They didn’t. They kept screaming and banging on the door. My smallest one shrieking because she wanted to be near me. I wanted to be near her, hold her, and comfort her, but I knew as soon as she calmed, we’d be back to that headache-y place. Horror of all horrors, I firmly said, “Babies, mommy needs to be alone. Please leave me alone.” I HATE turning them away. I HATE myself for needing a moment like this. Because I want to hold them and love them with every fiber of my being because I feel like I’m away from them for so long. They left.

And I sobbed for a bit when I received a timely phone call from my Brother. Wherein I poured on to him my gratitude for coming down for my birthday. How I felt  happy, and excited that he will be there. I recognize how big of a deal it is: to coordinate days off in advance, make sure you are caught up on work, drive 6 hours, sleep on a couch, just to share time. Humbled. Incredibly so because I know some people that celebrate their birthdays or want to celebrate their birthdays and they don’t seem to have 1 single friend to celebrate with them. And me, I’m surrounded so many days of the month to celebrate life. Absolutely amazed beyond measure. In typical Brother fashion, he graciously accepted it and then we talked about other stuff. By the end of the conversation, we were erupting in laughter as I was recounting this video. Giggle fits and laughter.

exhale.

I think I’m ready to crawl out of my time-out. I can hear my girls squealing with joy in the backyard, where Captain America* is grilling. I reach up to open the door and it is stuck. I can’t open the door. I try again. Still stuck. I’m trying to deconstruct the door. It isn’t jammed in the doorway. Jiggling doesn’t work. There isn’t a lock on it. And then all of a sudden I’m hot because the light has been on and there isn’t much circulation in the closet. I was fine hiding in the closet, but being locked in the closet brings a different meaning. After several more minutes, I finally swallow my pride and call my husband to let me out.

He doesn’t hear the phone or it didn’t go through. I texted and heard his jingle. My heart sank because I feared his phone was in our bedroom and he was outside. So I sat there, thinking, pondering, breathing. Called again and this time he answered. He chuckled and wondered where I’d been. I guess he hadn’t seen my earlier text about hiding. Then again, he could’ve thought I was playing a game. Which I often do. He let me in and I remembered that for whatever reason, you can’t open our closet from the inside. I know this because The Sugarbean has been “locked” in there a few times herself.

I had to laugh. And laugh I did. While hugging on my girls, as they rubbed my head. My eldest giving a running commentary. “Mommy, we are rubbing your head because you have a head-ick. And it hurts. And I need to talk softer for you (lowering her volume) because it helps you. I’m sorry for your head-ick. I hope this helps it to feel better. I love you, Mommy.” And the Sugarbaby gives me a kiss and a nuzzle telling me she loves me too.

My Beloved had given me a bar of chocolate: salted caramel Godiva milk chocolate and a hug.

I am so blessed.

Health Update: Cluster Eff & a Fracture

hello lovelies!

 

I wanted to take a moment to say thanks to all of you who have been praying for me, messaging me, calling me, and reaching out to let me know I was in your thoughts. That was really nice of you all!

I met with my Neuro today. I love his office. The waiting room was quite comfortable and the large screen TV and assortment of magazines was awesome! The time passed quickly. After reviewing my MRIs, he said that I should be ok. Lucky for me, my specific condition has more to do with my vein and not arteries, so that’s a positive. Your arteries are full of pressure pumping the blood and pose a greater risk. Your veins act as a “drain” for the blood and aren’t under so much pressure. The risk of bursting isn’t as bad. Because I’ve not had seizures, I’m ok! I just have to go in for a routine scan next year to make sure it is still the same and nothing has changed. Muppet YAAAAAY!!! (you know where they celebrate by leaning back, mouth open, screaming with excitement!!!) oh and fast fact, this type of thing is quite common in the Mexican/Mexican American population. Interesting, stuff.

 

and then….

My doctor is a Neurospine surgeon. When I was detailing my medical history, I mentioned my chronic lower back pain. Something I’ve dealt with my whole life. Even to the point that in high school, there was a doctor who told me that I should consider an “early retirement” because of the hyperextension of my back from volleyball and the other sports I was involved with. Obviously, I ignored the warning because well, I’m stubborn like that and I was determined to have sports in my life as a means to get a college education. My doctor asked if I was open to x-rays and I agreed. Lucky for me, they could do them right there and then and I just had to wait a bit for them to process. After further investigation, he came in and we discussed my Cluster Eff, and then we discussed my back. it seems as if I have a fracture in my L5 vertebrae and there has be some degeneration in that space, which is causing the pressure and the reason for my back pain over the years. He explained that this was probably an injury I had in my early childhood (age 4 to be exact…at the roller rink when I fell. I remember the moment clearly.). The added strain over the years with sports aggravated it. He ordered an MRI and I went downstairs to get it done. Convenient!

I won’t need surgery yet. Yeah, yet. Maybe in my 40s, but it all depends on how proactive I will be with my health. He hopes to alleviate the pain with physical therapy by increasing my core. Also, he suggested I continue to lose weight because staying fit and trim is better on my back. Finally, I may need cortisone shots to deal with the pain. So there you go. I now know why I’ve had back pain for 30+ years. insanity. 

***

Oh, and now I have a referral to an ENT to determine the root cause for my vertigo. I am so incredibly grateful for my health insurance because I’m getting quite to tune-up! Again, more reasons for me to stay on my health kick and keep moving forward! And apparently, I’ve also discovered I have quite a high threshold for pain. Looking at the positives. Folks, take care of your health!

Health Check Reminder

I process quite a bit by writing. In the past several months when I have had the time, I’ve been doing less writing in this forum, and more writing in actual journals. I wrote quite a bit about what I’m going to talk to you about now on small notecards. Little words of encouragement to myself, just as a reminder to keep myself focused and positive.

I know I have it within myself to teeter along the edge of depression. Quickly things can spiral out of control in my brain and fear upon fear upon worry upon sadness down that long tunnel into darkness. It’s at that point where I can see the world around me going on about its business and I feel like a mannequin in a poorly lit window, watching it all. It sucks. For that reason, I lean on my coping mechanisms. I run. I workout. I cling tightly to my family. I inhale loads and loads of motivational and inspirational quotes. I also cut out negativity. I have to. I purposefully stop watching the news. All that to say, the past couple of weeks, I was walking an emotional tightrope.

Let’s back up. After everything I witnessed with my mother last year, I decided to make a dramatic change in our lifestyle and cut out animals from my diet at the beginning of the year. (I don’t say vegetarian because well, there are so many definitions to that. My thing was, if it has a face, then I didn’t eat it. This included fish.) It was supposed to be a six week experiment that has evolved into a mostly permanent thing. I allow myself to eat something with a face one or two meals a week. To say it was life changing is an understatement. For me, this is what happened:

• I lost 25 pounds.
• I’ve shaved off nearly two minutes from my mile pace (multiple miles).
• I have a waist. <---That one, well, I’m square shaped, normally. I’ve never, in my life, had the abdomen lines on my belly. Not even in college when I was an athlete and my body fat percentage was really low.
• My allergies mostly disappeared. I’m the sneeziest person I know. And yet, here I can breathe again. I still have off days, but I don’t suffer as much as I used to.
• My face is brighter, well, the complexion. I thought some of that had to do with the Costa Rican and Californian sun, but no, it is the diet.

Great, right? Well, I must also admit, I took on that challenge because I wanted to increase the time I had to share with Don. He’s always active, making great food choices, and pushing me to be better. Sometimes, it’s exhausting. Many times it is exhausting. There are times where I just want to lazy around and watch movie marathons, eating tortilla chips dipped in chocolate frosting (or Velveeta) while drinking a Coke. Who, in their right mind, wants to get up before the sun to log 3-6 miles, eat only plants, and drink heavy amounts of water? <raising hand>  Yeah, that’d be me. I can bend time and do more in the day because of those choices. I get to enjoy more of him and more of my girls. I have “cleaner fuel” which lends itself to more physical activity. I run more. I run with the girls more. I run after the girls more. And the running gives me endorphins, which combats that evil depression and kicks it in the pants! It also tightens and tones my legs and works my heart. During my runs, I meditate and pray. I try to send out love and light to the world. I also breathe slowly. Gain perspective and chew on things that I need to sort out. I find myself laughing and smiling more. I still cry, but 7 times out of 10, they are tears of joy. There is no shame in showing emotion.

For a few years now, my Beloved has been having pain in his abdomen area. In June, Don finally acted on that pain in his abdomen and had his gallbladder removed. In it, they found polyps, which we later discovered to be benign. (whew) We also discovered that his gallbladder had only been operating at less than 10% efficiency. Hooray, right? Well, mostly, until August when the pain in his abdomen persisted. It kept hammering at him and hammering at him. That month, several people around me (around our age) were new diagnosed and battling cancer. You can imagine my fears. They were creeping in, gaining a stronghold. I insisted he go in to get it checked. Before we made that appointment, he decided to give the non-animals diet a whirl. His challenge for himself was for two weeks. He lost 10 pounds in those two weeks. His blood pressure became more normalized. However, the pain, it lingered. In he went to a GI specialist.

For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been running around with angst, worry, sadness…knocking on that door of depression. My world with him was in jeopardy. Why? Because when we sat down with the doctor, she told us that he would be undergoing a series of tests. Bloodwork, CT scans, ultrasounds, endoscopy, colonoscopy, and even biopsies..they wanted to rule out everything. At the worst, he could have some type of cancer. At the best, he has a food allergy. Talk about a broad spectrum! Shortly after we heard of the news, we had a road trip to Lubbock. We had 12 dedicated hours in the car to discuss, plan, and prepare. I spent three of those hours quietly sobbing to myself as my beloved lay next to me sleeping, our two blessings in the back slumbering. I prayed and prayed, crested over the canyons in the black of night and was greeted by the most amazing lightning storm I’d ever witnessed. For the next two hours, I focused on each bright burst, attempting to gain as much confidence and reassurance as possible for our own personal storm.
We faced each day, holding hands and embracing. His attitude changed from worry to relaxed. He tried to calm my fears by telling me it was ok. When things got to be too much, I ran. (or jumped or danced or cried) My closest loves held me tightly. Their infectious positivity lighting my mood. Their words of inspiration jumping out from the paper, the screen, my phone, all of them lifting me up. Despite all of that, the day before the “big tests” I curled up into the shower and ugly-cried for the better part of an hour. The biggest thing I lamented about that was all of the water that I had wasted. During that time, I considered the people we met along the way during our journey this summer. I reflected back on genuine and loving conversation from a beautiful man who has been victorious against throat cancer (and he has now become a mentor of sorts and a coveted friend). I remembered the sounds of the ocean lapping up the shores of Costa Rica, where the tiny bit of paradise is littered with trash, but in spite of the garbage, it is lush, thriving, and still very beautiful. I thought of my friends who have had other battles and remained steadfast in grace and positivity. I emerged from that shower, braver and ready for what may come. (We won't even discuss the crazy dreams.)

No matter what.

That’s our motto, mine and my beloved’s. I held his hand, he held mine, each of us taking a deep breath. He the calm and steady one with the sexiest antrum I've ever seen. (ok, it is the only one I've ever seen, but still) Me, the nervous wreck, trying to be as cool and cheerful. Why do I do that? Must be my way of coping.

--------------------

Results came back and all is normal! (wiping tears) They had found and removed a polyp, which was non-cancerous. All of the other tissue samples they had taken to perform biopsies came back normal. What they did discover is erosion in his stomach and small intestine. Basically, it’s as if someone took sandpaper to them. The acids in your stomach are so strong that with this weaker lining, you are inviting ulcers, which could eventually lead to worse things like cancer. Because the stomach is near all of the other major organs, this poses an even bigger threat. Now, he has to take a pill to coat his stomach to prevent further erosion and ulcers. Eating better is now essential. Additionally, he will undergo tests for food allergies. To start, they encouraged him to eliminate gluten from his diet.  Changes, indeed, but nothing we’ve not encountered before. 

All that to say, please, please, please go get yourselves checked out if you suspect something. The tiniest bits of changes in your body could be indicators for things far worse. Not knowing is scary, but knowing and having a plan is better, right? That’s where we are. Attempting to live our lives, buying more time, and embracing challenges ahead as happily and as positively as we can…together.

Adamantly, “We are NOT old!”

“Wanna go see Madonna tonight?”

That was the text I received Sunday afternoon. I’d just gotten up from a much-needed nap. My body ached and I knew my annual Autumn cold was trying to rear its ugly head. Head throbbing, muscles sore from working a magical wedding the night before (into the wee hours), I was shaking, and just felt yucky. I nearly typed back, “hmmm…” Instead, I remembered a conversation she and I had earlier this year when we were discussing our Resolutions. “Bianca, I need to you to keep me accountable to these. I want to have more nights out. We are NOT old!” This has become our little mantra for the past 10 months. When we have free moments and she and I can go out, I pull out the “We are NOT old” card and we have a good ol’ time.

She’d purchased the tickets long ago, thinking she would sell them, hopefully at a profit. Instead, after 5 failed attempts at selling them, they were in her hands. On her end, she’d started a bathroom re-do, and was painting. She fully prepared to add another coat of paint. But my positive response to be her wingman that night had her thinking otherwise. We threw on some clothes, came up with a plan and called upon the 8-15 year old versions of ourselves. Don’t get me wrong. I like Madonna. During those aforementioned years, I LOVED Madonna. Never in my life would I have thought I’d get to see her perform live. I don’t really remember her coming to Texas (in fact, I think someone said it has been 10-20 years since her last visit to Dallas). When she did come, tickets were in the hey-you-are-out-of-your-damn-mind range. Cherish, Holiday, Like a Virgin, Vogue, Like a Prayer, Material Girl…all favorites. Her attention to detail for performance is top notch. I admire her. She’s the first female to define her own rules and be successful in a male-dominated industry. I may or may not agree with her controversial acts, but I do admire her business acumen (or ability to recognize the right people to surround herself). But was I chomping at the bit to see her live? Meeeeeh… (The only time I'm ever taller than her is when I bust out my dancin' shoes. She's nearly 2 inches taller than me normally.)

We laughed and giggled at so many things on the ride over. My sides were aching and we’d not even started dancing! Any time I’m with my best friends, I know it is going to be a great, great time. As we walked over, I mentioned that if the concert was lame, we’d leave it completely and head to House of Blues to see Matt & Kim perform. Although, her husband would have been less than thrilled about that one simply because he’s as big of a fan as I am. Anyway, we walked in and I was blown away (blown.away) by the fashion. Boy howdy, do Madonna fans know how to dress. “Dayum!” No really, that’s what I said. So many, many beautiful gay (and a few straight) men in tailored apparel working the hell out of the halls of the AAC like it was a runway. I was incredibly glad that I decided against wearing my Helvetica tshirt and Chuck Taylors.

We got our drinks (Smirnoff Ice and a glass of vino) and headed to our seats.

The DJ was spinning great beats, I was grooving in my seat, and getting excited for the show. Nevermind that we were almost behind the stage and two rows from the top. And it really didn’t matter when one of our row mates spilled their drink all down my leg. What set me over the edge was the fact that he didn’t even apologize for it. I asked my bff if she wanted to walk around to try to find our friend on a lower level. Prior to leaving, there was this guy wearing a white tank top on the big screen who was tearing it up with his dancing. He was amazing! Flipping his blonde hair, gyrating his body to the beat. I wanted that energy. I could feel the energy from that far away. (that is the screen showing what is going on at the front of the stage. The pointy thing is the end of the stage)

We made it to the lower level. We are lingering there hoping our friend comes out when I think, hmmmm…maybe we can sit closer to people who actually want to be there instead of sour pusses who are bringing us down (when we are already wavering). And so we walk in, past security.We walk down several rows. We keep walking. We are searching for our friend. When I spot him, no, no our friend. I spot white tank top dancing guy! I act on impulse, run over to him and give him a hug. We connect. Just like that. We are dancing. We are laughing. We are hugging and squealing. And then we are on the big screen with him. I look over and the name “Benny Benassi” is flashing across the screen in front of the DJ. Are you freakin’ kidding me??? I love him. How did I not know he was Robert Downey JR’s doppelganger?? Just like that, the concert went from  bah-humbug to EPIC! Here’s our new view:



After that dance sequence, we embraced, my new friend and I. We parted with positive words to one another, each of us acknowledging the energy the other brought, covering each other with kisses on our cheeks, giddy at the wonderment of the experience. We were grateful and happy. Here we are together (BOOM...Happy!):

He was such a light! I loved it! We rehydrated for Madonna. My BFF and I telling one another that no matter what, we had to leave by 11:15 at the latest. We were both fighting off something. We both had to get up early for work. “We are NOT old, but we do have responsibilities.” Again, we walked back in to the lower level and struck up a conversation with one of the workers and escorted us to some seats to watch the show. He was a hoot and had many stories to tell!

Madonna opened up with some very dark and controversial numbers. Outstanding set design. Impeccable dance sequences. Spot on costuming (straight up fashion show). She has THE BEST DANCERS! Always, always, always, the very best, most attractive, and physically fit dancers.  Right as it was almost time for us to leave, she popped cotton candy and filled up my inner teen with all of the Madonna goodness that I was hoping for. She belted out “Express Yourself” to which I danced wildly (even more so than the other numbers) and sang along. She completed that number and we had to leave. I didn’t want to go, but I needed to go. Good thing too, because I yawned all the way home, barely keeping my eyes open. I was beaming!

Good thing we left when we did. Not an hour after getting home, the Sugarbaby was up fussing. Then wheezing and coughing and bark coughing. Then she took a header, which caused her first-ever nosebleed. Reality slapping me in the face, but you know, I was smiling and still dancing despite my lack of sleep. Thanks, Lindz for a WONDERFUL date night!

When was the last time you went out?

Longfellow, Scalzi, and Making a Difference

Little known fact about me, I’m a huge advocate for philanthropy. I like giving as much money as I can to worthy organizations. I enjoy volunteering my time and giving it as a gift. For nearly three years, I’ve been the Chair of a decently sized charitable foundation. It sounds fancy, and it might be a bit high-brow, but that’s not why I tossed my name in the hat when the opportunity presented itself. I hungrily applied for the position because I wanted to be as connected to many charitable organizations as I possibly could. I wanted a front row seat to the change-makers, no, I wanted to run alongside them on that inside track and effect so much change that I could not only feel, but see that needle shifting.

And changes were happening! They ARE happening. While standardized test scores are falling, in other places, they are rising---where they shouldn’t be. Against all odds…against socioeconomic impact, against menacing demographics, against those that told them they couldn’t people are rising to the challenge and proving that they can. Amazing!

Last week, my beloved and I attended an event as a representative of said foundation. The location was in the gorgeous home of the board member of another organization. The place was really, really, really nice. (understatement of the year) I’ve been to several of these events and to this day, I’m still blown away by luxury and I hope that feeling never disappears. Despite what I’ve seen or done or what I will see or do, I hope that fanciness in my face will continue to wow me. Why? Not because of the wealth, but because of how each piece put together in these rooms was hand selected and hand placed by someone to make a statement reflecting its owner. It’s art and beauty. It’s like a mini museum visit. Anyway, here we are out on their terrace.

Behind us, you can see children gathering. They are 4th grade students from a local private school. They were setting up for their performance. They recited, with gusto, Henry Wadsworth Longellow’s “The Village Blacksmith” in its entirety and perfectly. Nine and ten year olds, in perfect rows, in perfect unison, reciting the poem as if someone were performing it. They captivated me. I’d first read this poem in high school and revisited it again in college. I liked it then, but now that I’m a parent, I relate to it so much more. I found myself filled with impossibly hopeful tears for these children. Why? Because they live in a zip code that has the worst high school in the state (and one of the worst in the nation). 3 out of 4 children that matriculate from this school go on to graduate high school, more often than not, from a preparatory or private high school in the area on scholarship. That other 1 will probably have gone on to the local high school, will not graduate. and more than likely end up in jail or living in poverty.

Break the cycle.

I’ve spoken of my mother instilling philanthropy in my heart at an early age. Likewise, I believe it is necessary for me to lay a giving foundation for my own daughter’s hearts. The other day, I heard a story of a running coach who inspired and trained homeless women to run a 5K. She took it a step further and had these homeless women raise money for children in Africa. Homeless. Women. Raising. Money. Marinate on that for a second, now ask yourself, “What else can I do to make a difference?”

Which brings me to my next point about being poor. I’ve thought about how growing up in poverty shaped my mother. How that in turn shaped me. I reflected on how she tends to hoard things, random things like pens, and how she holds on to so many trivial things for sentimental reasons. My siblings and I joke about it, despite how all of the extra stuff makes us uncomfortable. But all of that stuff is my mother and I love her for it. I still giggle at her comment to me, “Mija, when I pass on, you better not just throw stuff out without looking through it. I’ve hidden money here and there and you will never know when you will find it.” She’s right. Upon one of our cleaning crusades, we emptied out 6 boxes of items and collected just under $200 in bills and coins.

I look around my own house and see how my husband and I have inherited our mother’s hoarding habits and we feel suffocated by our things. About a month ago, my cousin house sat for us and during that time she gave me one of the greatest gifts. She organized and cleaned while we were away. More importantly, she organized and cleaned our master bedroom. I cried. Most of you reading this are probably horrified by the thought. I’m not. I prayed for a miracle. I’d even had a conversation with my best friend about it, on how she and I would keep one another accountable and try to empty 1 box of stuff from our house each week or concentrate on one tiny wall in one room of the house each week. My cousin bought me time and her efforts (over the course of those 5 days) brought me freedom. I could breathe again in my room. I had been embarrassed by our bedroom. What she did was no small feat. She started something BIG and each week, I do my best to maintain what she has done and take it another step in that proper direction. Again, imprints from generations long past, still ever-present in my life today.

I thought about how my mother’s and my father’s education and pursuit for a better life shaped mine. How it was never a question of if I was going to attend university, but which one. Of course, there were restrictions there, too. I dared not consider the Ivy League recruiting letters, nor any of the private schools letters of interest. We wouldn’t have been able to afford it and I knew that. I remember the look of worry on my father’s face when I told him I declared English as my major. He was an Engineer and the moment he stepped foot into the Corporate World, he groomed me for that environment. With my emphasis in Technical Communication, I found a niche that opened those doors of opportunity. For as long as I can remember, every single voice of any significance in my life told me I could be whomever I chose, do whatever I wanted, and I didn’t have to rely on anyone but myself. I am lucky and blessed. I was also adamantly told to give back. What I was given should be returned, including my gifts of time and talent. Wasting either would be a tragedy of epic proportions and completely disrespectful to all those who had gone before me.

So when John Scalzi’s write-up of “Being Poor” (also shown at the end of this post) hit my inbox, I found myself nodding and sobbing. I found myself understanding and wondering. This weighed heavily on my heart (and a tiny source of some of the melancholy I’d been feeling recently, my over-the-top ridiculous pity party for absolutely no reason whatsoever). If people only knew how much happiness they received in giving, I think the world would be much like appears in my eyes, well 96% of the time. We can make a difference! In our own child’s eyes, and in other’s eyes. I’m happily married to an educator who, yes, has a part-time job. Occasionally, we work as photographers to raise a tiny bit of extra money to support a craft we love…or pay for ballet lessons. We make ends meet the best we know how and the bits that we have leftover by the way of money, we do our best to give to others. And if I don’t have any treasure to give, I certainly have talent and time tucked away somewhere and endeavor to instill that same value in the hearts of my girls. We are trying to embrace the whole, spending less money on things and investing more in the experiences.

Next time you find yourself feeling low, it’s ok to embrace the muck happening in your life. And it is ok that you are feeling those things. But I do challenge you to take some time out of your imperfect day and perform a random act of kindness for a stranger in need. You’ll be hard-pressed to not feel your internal needle shifting ever so slightly. You might have even shifted that stranger’s needle a bit too.

________________

Being Poor

September 3, 2005 By John Scalzi

Being poor is knowing exactly how much everything costs.

Being poor is getting angry at your kids for asking for all the crap they see on TV.

Being poor is having to keep buying $800 cars because they’re what you can afford, and then having the cars break down on you, because there’s not an $800 car in America that’s worth a damn.

Being poor is hoping the toothache goes away.

Being poor is knowing your kid goes to friends’ houses but never has friends over to yours.

Being poor is going to the restroom before you get in the school lunch line so your friends will be ahead of you and won’t hear you say “I get free lunch” when you get to the cashier.

Being poor is living next to the freeway.

Being poor is coming back to the car with your children in the back seat, clutching that box of Raisin Bran you just bought and trying to think of a way to make the kids understand that the box has to last.

Being poor is wondering if your well-off sibling is lying when he says he doesn’t mind when you ask for help.

Being poor is off-brand toys.

Being poor is a heater in only one room of the house.

Being poor is knowing you can’t leave $5 on the coffee table when your friends are around.

Being poor is hoping your kids don’t have a growth spurt.

Being poor is stealing meat from the store, frying it up before your mom gets home and then telling her she doesn’t have make dinner tonight because you’re not hungry anyway.

Being poor is Goodwill underwear.

Being poor is not enough space for everyone who lives with you.

Being poor is feeling the glued soles tear off your supermarket shoes when you run around the playground.

Being poor is your kid’s school being the one with the 15-year-old textbooks and no air conditioning.

Being poor is thinking $8 an hour is a really good deal.

Being poor is relying on people who don’t give a damn about you.

Being poor is an overnight shift under florescent lights.

Being poor is finding the letter your mom wrote to your dad, begging him for the child support.

Being poor is a bathtub you have to empty into the toilet.

Being poor is stopping the car to take a lamp from a stranger’s trash.

Being poor is making lunch for your kid when a cockroach skitters over the bread, and you looking over to see if your kid saw.

Being poor is believing a GED actually makes a goddamned difference.

Being poor is people angry at you just for walking around in the mall.

Being poor is not taking the job because you can’t find someone you trust to watch your kids.

Being poor is the police busting into the apartment right next to yours.

Being poor is not talking to that girl because she’ll probably just laugh at your clothes.

Being poor is hoping you’ll be invited for dinner.

Being poor is a sidewalk with lots of brown glass on it.

Being poor is people thinking they know something about you by the way you talk.

Being poor is needing that 35-cent raise.

Being poor is your kid’s teacher assuming you don’t have any books in your home.

Being poor is six dollars short on the utility bill and no way to close the gap.

Being poor is crying when you drop the mac and cheese on the floor.

Being poor is knowing you work as hard as anyone, anywhere.

Being poor is people surprised to discover you’re not actually stupid.

Being poor is people surprised to discover you’re not actually lazy.

Being poor is a six-hour wait in an emergency room with a sick child asleep on your lap.

Being poor is never buying anything someone else hasn’t bought first.

Being poor is picking the 10 cent ramen instead of the 12 cent ramen because that’s two extra packages for every dollar.

Being poor is having to live with choices you didn’t know you made when you were 14 years old.

Being poor is getting tired of people wanting you to be grateful.

Being poor is knowing you’re being judged.

Being poor is a box of crayons and a $1 coloring book from a community center Santa.

Being poor is checking the coin return slot of every soda machine you go by.

Being poor is deciding that it’s all right to base a relationship on shelter.

Being poor is knowing you really shouldn’t spend that buck on a Lotto ticket.

Being poor is hoping the register lady will spot you the dime.

Being poor is feeling helpless when your child makes the same mistakes you did, and won’t listen to you beg them against doing so.

Being poor is a cough that doesn’t go away.

Being poor is making sure you don’t spill on the couch, just in case you have to give it back before the lease is up.

Being poor is a $200 paycheck advance from a company that takes $250 when the paycheck comes in.

Being poor is four years of night classes for an Associates of Art degree.

Being poor is a lumpy futon bed.

Being poor is knowing where the shelter is.

Being poor is people who have never been poor wondering why you choose to be so.

Being poor is knowing how hard it is to stop being poor.

Being poor is seeing how few options you have.

Being poor is running in place.

Being poor is people wondering why you didn’t leave.