The Red Road...

Every once in a great while, you find yourself in an unbelievable moment.  We all know it.  It tends to be the time where you just want to pinch yourself because it just doesn't seem real.  When I got an invite for last night's poetry reading featuring one of my favorite authors Luis Rodriguez, that became my moment. 

Now for those of you who don't know Luis, not only is he known as a best selling author and poet, but he is a truly remarkable person.  He uses his writing to save many young Chicano/Mexican/Latino gang members in Los Angeles and now around the world.  However, the most interesting thing I find about Luis is that he has used his writing to also save himself.

Luis was born in El Paso, TX and his family moved to South Central Los Angeles shortly thereafter.  In his book "Always Running: La Vida Loca- Gang Days in L.A.," he talks about his struggle as a youth growing up on the gang ridden streets of L.A.  He tells an honest account of not only what happened but gives an insightful picture of how.  He gives the grave reality of the consequences of gang life including losing 25 friends by the time he was 18, his own struggle with heroin and alcohol addiction and his own grief around his son following a similar gang led path, which led his son to a 13 year prison sentence.

The reading was at the Francisco house in South Central L.A., an area that is still today entrenched with gangs and hopelessness.  All the inhabitants of the house are formerly incarcerated men, many of whom had served 25 plus years in prison.  Many of which were also at one point or another actively involved in gangs.  Luis spent the evening not talking at the men, but meeting them where they were.

He opened with one of his poems "The Calling."  The poem talks about a moment in his life where he started to realize that he had a greater purpose and a voice from a jail cell.  Just before he was locked up that time around, he was part of one of the very first Chicano AntiWar Protests.  It was through this experience that he found that he really started care about something bigger than himself.  It was also at that point that he decided that he needed to document it.

He described walking the Red Road, a Native American term for walking on the path to success.  He said along your path, many will be standing with you, but only you can lead it.  He told the story of how he could save so many youth, but no matter how hard he tried, he wasn't able to save his son.  Through all of this pain, there is grace.  His son has also had a transformation inside the prison gates and he was just released two weeks ago.
 
After the reading, Luis invited me and a few others (Shirley Wilson, the host of Scales of Justice, Julia, a GOTB Regional Coordinator and two recently released lifers) to dinner.  When we got to the little-hole-in-the-wall Mexican place, we walked in and I felt like I had walked through a door with Brad Pitt.  Everyone knew who Luis was.  Needless to say, our service was great!  One man, who was a professor at the University of Texas, came up to our table and asked Luis if he could shake his hand.  He told Luis about the poetry class he teaches with his work.  Luis humbly smiled and shook his hand and gave a genuine "Thank You" to the man.  Meanwhile at the table, the rest of us joked around with Luis about how this must have been staged.  Luis with his great sense of humor said, "Okay okay you all just can't be fouled, can you?"  My response, "We've spent too much time in prison."  Everyone went into hysterics.

On my way home, I thought about that night and what an eclectic group of people I just had dinner with.  I then thought about my own Red Road and I just smiled for a second.  Out of all the paths I could have taken, mine is one where I am sitting next to a former lifer who just got out of prison last month, across from a man who has been on Oprah and Nightly News, on the other side of an amazingly intelligent caseworker, diagonally to another lifer who started the Honor Yard in Lancaster prison, and at the other corner to a woman who finds redemption in her son's murder by talking to all of us.  This my friends is one crazy Red Road, but I love every second of it.

R.I.C.E.

So for all my non runners, when you hear the word "R.I.C.E", you probably think of it as a complement to your favorite Asian dish.  However, when you are a runner, the word, "R.I.C.E" is one that you dread.  Normally at the point of injury you start to think, "Hmm, maybe my (insert body part) is just cramping up and I just need to run through this.  It will feel better."

Then about one mile after the initial sign of pain, you think, "Hmm, it still hurts, but no pain, no gain and I only have (insert absurd number of miles) left.  I can't stop now."

And then when you do stop and instead of it feeling better, it feels worse, which in turn further proves to you that continuing with your run was a wise choice cause when you stop, this is the consequence.  You hobble to your car as fellow pedestrians ask you if you are okay?  Winded and in immense pain, you stammer, "Of course, this is always how I look right after a run."  What a liar you are!

On your way home, you still have a confident feeling that once you get an episom salt bath, a take a few Advil and sit on your couch, you will feel like new again.  And then, that doesn't happen.  In your last resort, you break out the frozen peas and start the "R.I.C.E." process (rest, ice, compress, elevate).

Oh how I hate the word "R.I.C.E"!  Not only do I hate it for the defeat it represents, I also hate it for the pea juice that melts onto my floor during the icing process.  The only thing worse than having to "R.I.C.E" yourself is to have someone else tell you that you got to "R.I.C.E.".  When it is only you in on the secret, your injury doesn't feel as real, but when others say, "Wow, it looks as if your left ankle is all swollen up, you got to go home and "R.I.C.E"," you just want to crawl up in a hole.

So that people is where I am right now.  I went to my new favorite running store yesterday Arch and Sole on La Brea and I finally came to accept the fate of my injuries when both of the runners helping me repeatedly used the "R" word.  I have been really easing up this past week but with my left Akiles swollen and both my plantar flacia bones flaring up, I will be out at least until the end of this week when I get an appointment with the podiatrist.

As I always say, life as in running isn't always beautiful, but it truly is a beautiful ride or in my case, run.  Hopefully, I will have some better news at the end of the week.  :)

Hey Soul Sista..

In the words of recording artist Train, "I was on the radio, stereo- the way I move ain't fair you know."  Well maybe not the last little bit, but I was on the radio last night.  Shirley Wilson and Julia Chavez Harmon asked me to be a guest on their show Scales of Justice last night.  It was an amazing experience and it became a great first day of visiting for my mom as she got to sit in the green room and listen to the show live. 

Take a listen: http://www.latalkradio.com/images/Scales-071810.mp3

Now after you listen, I am sure you will be burning for more, don't worry.  I am here to provide.  Shirley enjoyed me so much as a guest that she has asked me to be on again in the next couple of weeks.  I will let everyone know when and where to tune in. 

Enjoy!

Plantar fas-whatis?

As I spoke about in my last blog entry, life has a way of throwing me many curve balls.  However, I think my curve balls have a short term memory because it seems that I have had a lot lately.  I am on week two of my training for the Philly Half and I have been experiencing lots of pain especially in the right arch of my foot.  The root of my problem is a reoccurring issue called Plantar Fasciitis, which essentially is a weakness in the muscles that run through the bottom part of your foot.  When these muscles weaken, your tendons can detach from your foot, which I endured during the training for my first marathon.

Now to explain what this feels like, imagine stepping on a sharp object right around where the arch of your foot is every time you take a step.  Ouch right?  Although it is not at all pleasant, the good news is that since I have had it before, I was able to quickly diagnose what it was.  I have also started some home remedies with icing and taking some Advil.  On Monday, I will be going to my doctor to get a referral to a podiatrist.  I think the root of the problem is my prescription orthotics for my shoes may have worn out in the past couple of years.  I am also going to get a new pair of kicks to see what that does.

Okay enough humming and hawing.  Want to hear some good news?  Of course you do that's why I am told many of you follow my blog.  The good news is that even in spite of my foot pain, I am getting faster!  Last week's long run, I did 5 miles in 51 minutes flat.  Today I did 6 miles in 60 minutes flat.  I am still a long way from my goal, but I am celebrating the small victories literally one step at a time!  Love to everyone until next time...

Integrity, Believe, Strength...

Joe and I had the privilege to host my good friend Kimberly (i.e. my NY hubby) and her mom 'B' or Brenda for those of you who prefer formal names for a long weekend.  Kimberly has been my recent impetus to commit to running my next half marathon in Philly on September 19th.  In addition to being my old roomie in NY, we now have a new commonality: finishing the half in under 2 hours, which is 9:16 pace. That's right, I said it so now, it is official.

In addition to gallivanting all around L.A. and causing trouble, yesterday we also had the pleasure of doing Runyon Romp, one of my favorite training regimes.  This workout, as I have written before, is not for the faint of heart.  It is an intensive core and strength exercise topped off with some major hill training up a mountain so steep that it has built in steps to avoid having to climb it on your hands and knees.  When you get up to the top and you feel just about ready to pass out, it is time for circuits of lunges and squats while you hold a weighted rock to add an additional challenge.

Even though I have done this course before, I have to admit on my way up the steep slope of the hill, I got a familiar feeling-  I wanted desperately to stop.  It was hot. I was sweating.  I could barely catch my breath.  The arches of both of my feet were starting to feel like someone was jabbing them with a large needle.  I really felt like there was nothing left in me.  However, it may have been my pride or it may have been something else, but something got me up that hill.

Fast forward to this morning.  Kimberly and I had a leisurely morning chatting and catching up on the two years we haven't seen one another and I checked my e-mail only to find a message from a foundation I had been anxiously waiting to hear from that could potentially fund me in expanding my work with Get On The Bus.  When I opened the e-mail and I read the first line, "Dear Applicant, Thank you for applying but we regret to inform you that..." my heart just sunk.

Talk about taking the wind out of someone's sails.  How could this be happening?  Why did this need to happen in the company of my out-of-town company?  Further more, why did this need to happen two hours before I am slated to present to the Board at my final Board meeting?  And so my life fell apart...at least I thought.

As I rushed to the meeting while trying to dry my running mascara in my rear view mirror, I tried to think of what I was going to say to the Board.  I was projecting that my news would be not only a disappointment to them, but a personal let down.

I arrived at the meeting and sat still waiting for my turn.  When I spoke, I gave the news from my heart, which is the only way I speak these days.  Instead of absorbing the looks of shock and disappointment that I was expecting, something really wonderful began to happen.  One by one everyone came up and gave me a hug.  They seemed to carry concern, not for the project, but for me.  They also seemed to be quick to come up with suggestions and let me know, that this was a small bump in the road and we will find another path to make it happen.  Everyone was more than willing to not only sympathize but to empathize with what I was feeling.  It was truly an incredible day.

As I got home and shared my moment with Joe, Kimberly and B, Kimberly handed me a present that she bought me in SF.  When I opened it, three silver charms popped out and they read, "Integrity, Believe, Strength."  Three words I really needed right then.

I am not sure how Kimberly knew last week when she bought that gift how fitting it would have been today.  Nor am I sure of where my future path with GOTB or another organization will lead, but I am sure that the universe must be cooking up something good at least I hope so ;p.  Thanks for all of you who have been praying that I would get this grant.  This is one mere set back.  I am confident that something good will come out of this and just as with the hill at Runyon Romp, I am not giving up until I get it.

A reflection from our newest Regional Coordinator: Julia Harmon Chavez

As a mother of a ten year old I have often thought about what it would have been like if I had not had the good fortune to have raised my son and been there every night to tuck him in, read him a story and say prayers with him. Like me, many of you may have done this thousands of times with your children but maybe never stopped to think that it could have been any different.

Well I’m here to tell you that that is TRUE for thousands of our families right here in California who have a parent who is incarcerated. A couple of weeks ago I was invited to attend one of the Get on the Bus Programs from Orange County to go to the California Men’s Colony in San Luis Obispo, Ca. This correctional facility houses 6500 men and well over half of them are fathers who have children all over the state of Ca.

It is a full day. Depending on where you get picked up by a coach bus along the way you could be getting up as early at 3 a.m. On the bus I attended, we had 55 mothers, grandmothers, guardians, volunteers, and children anxiously waiting for the 4-5 hour trip to be over so they could greet their loved one inside for Father’s Day. For some it had been years since they had seen their husband, son or father…for some of the children it was the first time EVER meeting their father. Shortly after getting on the bus, I was introduced to a tall, slender, good-looking, polite and intelligent young man of 16 who I would escort in when we got off the bus at the CMC.

As we waited to get his paperwork processed and sat in the visiting room anticipating his father’s arrival, I found out that this young man had not seen his father since he was 4 years old. He said he didn’t remember him. I wondered what that was like for him and what he must be feeling in that moment as he waited for a man to walk in who he didn’t know but who gave him life.

As I soon learned throughout the day, this young man’s story was not much different than many of the others who were there yet there was an easiness and flow to the connections that emerged and a lightness and celebratory air to the day’s activities. There were arts and crafts, king paper crowns made by the children for their father’s to wear (the same men that are often depicted by the media as brutal monsters), board games, pizza, drinks, and snacks to be eaten and pictures to be taken.

I saw children hanging on their fathers as they walked around the visiting room…sometimes 4 at a time! Small infants being held and toddlers being looked after. It wasn’t a day in prison but a day of families being re-united and children being given a dream come true.

As the day started to wind down around 3 p.m. and everyone got ready for the long journey home, we were told that we would make another stop before heading back to the L.A. area. One of the nearby churches, who was involved in raising the money and getting the volunteers opened up its doors to provide fellowship, counseling and closure to the day’s events. It was a beautiful end to an emotional day of mixed feelings and hard goodbyes.

So I’m here today not just to tell you about an experience that warmed my heart which hopes to tug at your heart strings but to let you know that this vision, which still keeps growing bigger…because there are more prisons and there are more families….needs your help. The more of us out here who care about those children and families effected by being away from a loved one in prison the more we can make a difference through our pocketbooks, our hands-on-help, our time and our influence. For whatever the reasons why children are separated from their parents in prison this should not be a reason to not do our part to help make this dream more of a reality for more children and families. And I guarantee you, you join us this year and you won’t be able to stay away in years to come. It is an intimate experience that you get the privilege to be a part of and I know for myself that that is a priceless gift that I always want to have the good fortune to participate in.

And as for my young man who I escorted in, he indeed recognized his father as he walked out to greet us in the courtyard. Perhaps it was familial recognition or pictures that had been passed between them over the years or maybe…it was something more….maybe it was love.



Julia Harmon Chavez

Unity Bridges

 
Thanks Julia- well said!!

I'm think getting the fever back...

After a whirlwind of pure exhaustion for the past two months, I am starting to clear my mind and take a little time for reflection, which is always a scary thing for me.  I've given much thought to all of our events and I find it incredible that we were able to bring over 1100 minor children on 70 buses from every major city in California to see their parents in 7 different prisons!  As you have all read, I have been touched by the stories of the families this year, the kindness of the volunteers, supporters and donors and the generosity of my staff and the CDCR staff to pull it all together. 

I've done so much time and reflection about the events that when I typed in the IP address to this blog and saw the word "running", I got that distant nostaligic feeling.  You know the feeling that you get when you see an old friend's name from high school, but you haven't spoken with the person in 10 years?  You wonder how that person is doing, but in a sense thinking too much time has gone past to contact them. Well, maybe it isn't that bad for me and my dear friend running, but it has felt like forever, which got me thinking...

Now let me be completely honest, it isn't like I haven't been running at all.  I have been doing a ton of cross and hill training in the morning with my Runyon Romp group.  My running has just taken a little different shape in the past few months.  After the marathon, I did what every runner does, I took "a little time off."  However, the difference between me and most runners is that time away makes me want to not run but play ;p.  For the first couple of weeks, I used running the marathon as a justification and a prize for my noncompliance.  Anything that I did, didn't do or wanted to do I was in my mind okay because "I just ran a freakin' marathon."

In addition due to my events, I was on the road more than I was home and I wasn't getting much sleep.  When faced with the choice, I chose sleep.  During this time, my running partner and friend Leanne moved out of our building.  For those of you who know me, you know that I am a people person.  I am even more of a people person when it comes to running because I need someone to hold me accountable for my running or lack thereof. 

However, before I blame my sorrows on Leanne (j/k), I also learned a valuable part of who I am through all of this... I am a goal oriented person.  I need something to work toward or I just don't work.  This is the trick to all of my accomplishments. 

Shortly after this lightbulb came on, I got a call from my friend Kimberly, otherwise known as "NYC Hubby", as we lived together in Astoria.  She had recently run her first half marathon in Nashville and she was starting to consider her next race.  I always knew that Kimberly was smart, but when she said that I had an "Ah Ha" moment followed by an "Oh Crap" moment.  In order to keep on advancing your acheivements as a runner, you have to be working toward a goal.  She then planted a bug in my ear asking me to consider running the Rock'N Roll Philadelphia Half Marathon with her in mid September?  Hmm.... So the question on the table is, "To run or not to run?"  Leave your thoughts below.