Everyone's getting on the bus, it seems...

Naples Rib Company Fundraiser 2/26/10

At Get On The Bus, our mission statement is to "unite children with their mothers and fathers in prison."  However, what we actually do is so much more!  It still never ceases to amaze me how many people get involved in our efforts to create such a special day for the children.  As Suzanne always says, we have 3 basic needs: To know and to be known.  To love and to be loved.  To give and to receive.

Get On The Bus taps into all of these basic needs, which I believe heightens the program's success.  When we were featured last year in Good Housekeeping, we received 8 inquiries from around the country, Canada, and South Korea wanting to know how to start a similar program.  In addition, yesterday we received a commendation e-mail from Germany.

Last year, one of our great volunteers Scott from SLO likened his Get On The Bus experience much to being a member of a happening club like the Sierra Club.  Scott commented, "It is the new trendy thing that every person in the SLO area wants to be a part of. " When Scott said that, it made me glow from ear-to-ear.  It made me realize that this thing has its own energy and it is much like a movement.  I also was credited for perpetuating a trend.  How awesome is that? ;p

It wasn't until last night that that really hit home for me.  I went to a lovely fundraiser organized by one of our bus coordinator's Jessica at the Naples Rib Company in Long Beach.  My in-laws were visiting so I invited them along.  When we arrived at the restaurant, it was packed and there was a 30 minute wait.  Coming from a restaurant family, I knew this was very good business for such a big place on a Thursday night.

Jessica and I

We were led to our table in a back room that was decked out in our Get On The Bus colors, purple and white.  She had a lovely photo display with brochures and a donation jar.  There were posters adorned with purple streamers, a poster people could sign for the children and the GOTB video cued up in the background.  I thought, "isn't this a cute little thing?"

Jessica was so excited that I came and when she came to greet me, I paraded her with accolades.  I said,  "I can't believe you got this whole back room."  She then corrected me and said, "Maria, we got the whole restaurant!  I was in the midst of decorating but it got so busy that I had to stop."  I was awestruck.  This whole restaurant easily seated probably about 200 people or more and there was a wait and everyone was there for us.  Wow!!

To top it off, as we were leaving, my father-in-law, who is from NJ, was walking out and he saw his long time customer of 30 years.  He asked the customer what he was doing at the restaurant and his reply was simple, "I'm getting on the bus.  What are you doing?"  My father-in-law said, "I am getting on the bus too.  It seems everyone around here gets on the bus."

My father-in-law was right everyone does get on the bus.  Everyone comes together united in mission.  Can you imagine how different the world would look if we all united?  If we all thought first about the children before anything else?  I can and that is why I will be getting on the bus this year.  Want to join me?

Patches of hope...

Last Wednesday Suzanne led us in a wonderful discussion about hope and second chances.  In the beginning of the conversation, we learned that our beloved Gigi was a finalist for the Rev. Dr. Constance M. Baugh Achievement Award given out by Justice Works in Brooklyn, NY.  The award looks at individuals that have come back to society after being incarcerated and have really made a significant difference in their life and/or the lives of others.  (Since then we found out that she won!  She will be flying to NYC to accept her award at NYU on March 16, 2010.  I want to publicly congratulate Gigi for being the recepient of this award. No one deserves this award more than you!)

After our congratulations went around the table, Gigi shared a story with us.  Suzanne runs special programs for the women inside at California Institute for Women (CIW).  One thing that she is famous for, among many, are Cross-overs.  These events bring outside people into the prison to have conversation with the women.  These events have not only been powerful, but for many participants, they have been life changing.  It is amazing what can happen when you bring two totally different groups of people together and just have them talk.  People come as strangers and leave as friends.

Because of the overwhelming response, each year there is a spiritual retreat at CIW where Suzanne brings outside people into the prison for the weekend. Three years ago Gigi attended.  She then stretched out a quilt that was made during the weekend.  I was so struck by the beauty and the message that I thought I would share it with all of you.  I wanted to let you know that your donations have made a big difference for the lives' of the children on Joe's bus.  Thank you again!!

One month from today...

Today is February 21, 2010.  In addition to being my cousin Jenee's birthday, this also marks the one month mark until the marathon.  Sometimes life gets so chaotic that it is hard to know what you will be doing in the next 5 minutes, let alone 30 days from now.  However, I am quite confident that on March 21, 2010, I will be crossing the marathon finish line for the second time in my life.  Running a marathon is a pipe dream for most and a reality for few.  I realize that I am not only fortunate to say that I was a finisher once, but twice!  However, like any achievement, it comes with a price tag.

I had the pleasure to go on a little get away this weekend with my in-laws to Palm Springs.  Joe and I were going to head over there on Saturday morning after my planned 18 mile jaunt.  On Friday night, it was raining here in L.A. and I contacted my partner Leanne and we both agreed that if the rain didn't cease by the morning, we were going to forgo our run.  Because of last weekend's run, which was the hardest of my life, I had to admit that I was kinda hoping that the rain would continue through Saturday.  I didn't want to have to have to experience the physical pain, illness and mental defeat that happened the previous weekend.  Mostly, I didn't want to fail myself and I didn't want to fail all of you.  You see, it is very easy to continue to push yourself when you are able to conquer your goals easily.  However, when you throw a little blood, sweat and tears into the mix, it is natural to have some second thoughts.

I first woke up to learn that Leanne wouldn't be able to join me.  I looked outside and saw that it was drizzling lightly and I went back to bed for a little more.  I was secretly hoping that by the time it was light outside that the rain would be in full swing and I would have an excuse to not run.  At 7 am, my alarm rang and I looked outside to see my worst nightmare, a perfect L.A. weather day.  Crap!  There was no stopping me now.  Before I knew it, I was out the door with 18 more miles left to run.

When I got to mile 13, physically I was starting to hurt.  I could feel the pounding of every step take hold of the muscles in my legs.  I started to go on autopilot.  I did something very weird that many runners do when they are in pain: I separated my body from my mind.  I started to imagine that I was laying by the pool in Palm Springs drinking a Cosmo and it worked.  I was able to push through the pain.  I was able to finish very strong and even though I was sore afterwards, this run did what it needed to do, it restored my confidence.

When we got to Palm Springs, my body was fatigued and I was feeling a lot of muscle and joint pain.  As I was getting into my mother-in-law's car, she asked me if it was all worth it?  Although I didn't have an answer just then, I was able to reflect on this piece for the rest of the weekend.

What motivates me to put my body through so much physical anguish just to say that I ran yet another marathon?  I think it is the same thing that motivates me to do everything else in my life at 100%.  It is a combination of pride, determination and an unwillingness to accept failure.

This is not so different from the mindset of our GOTB families.  They deal with many hardships, but they don't stop.  They keep pushing through.  They fight to give the children they are caring for every opportunity possible to make them the best people they can be.  Despite the odds, they are the real heroes.  Every day they are overcoming the odds.

This made me realize that what I am doing is worth it.  Is it hard?  Yes.  Does it hurt?  Yes.  But, to raise this money and this awareness for the children is worth every single hard moment.  After March 21, 2010, I will go back to my normal life.  However, they will continue to live without their parents.  They will continue to have to fight every odd to make it.  I owe it to them to do this.

I have two very special thank yous.  The first is to my best friend Marylou.  Thank you not only for your generous donation, but for walking with me through this journey.  You are the best friend a girl could ask for.  The second is to Joe's grandmother Becky Kraus.  Thanks so much for all your support and your generous donation to help the children.  It will go a long way.

Take a chance on someone...

Three communities made up my school district: Ingram, Robinson and Kennedy.  Robinson and Kennedy were the quintessential suburban communities all equipped with new housing developments, soccer mom minivans and smoothly paved roads.  The parents in this area looked just about as cookie cutter as their houses.  The women well manicured from head-to-toe and the men dressed for work in 3 piece suits.  However, Ingram was a bit different.

Growing up, I spent the first 12 years of my life in Ingram.  It was a great little neighborhood where you could walk everywhere you needed to go using the one main street.  The neighborhood consisted of small row-type houses, brick roads and a community shopping center.  The people were salt-of-the-earth working class folks who were incredibly down-to-earth.  In my opinion, it was a great place to live.  Because of the layout, some of my best friends Marylou and Shawn lived a 2 minute walk away.

However, when I went to middle school, I heard a much different story.  When I got on the bus for the first day of sixth grade, I remember kids referring to me and others as "Ingramites".  The persona of an Ingramite was a lower class kid who was not as smart, good, (insert other choice adjectives here) than the kids from the other neighborhoods.  Not only did the other kids judge us, but also the teachers had their reservations too.  When I told teachers that I went to Ingram Elementary, many of them would say with disbelief, "Really, you don't seem like one of those kids?"

Even though Shawn, Marylou and I were one of 'those' kids, we still went on to exceed everyone’s expectations.  By the end of high school, Shawn was the President of the school, Marylou was the Drum Major of the marching band and I was the Editor-In-Chief of the newspaper staff.  Why did this happen?  My personal opinion was because people believed in us.  We all had great families, each other and those one or two special teachers in our life that kept telling us that we mattered.  I think this fueled us.  

Quite coincidentally, today Shawn and Marylou also work with marginalized youth.  Shawn has used his talents as a youth pastor and his passion for production (both video and music) to keep hundreds of kids off the streets.  Marylou teaches in the Pittsburgh Public Schools as a music teacher.  Last year at age 27, she was named one of the 40 Most Influential People Under the Age of 40 in Pittsburgh.  Why do we all do it? If you really want to know, read one of my previous blog entries ;p.  But just maybe, it's because someone took a chance on us and we now continue that by taking chances on others.

In honor of Juvenile Justice Week, I want to encourage you to take a chance on our youth.  Here in the state of California, we sentence youth to life without the possibility of parole.  This can happen when a child is as young middle school aged.  Imagine instead of a child graduating from high school, they graduate to the state prison.  In my opinion, this is incredibly sad and scary.  What have we come to as a society to dismiss our youth with no second thoughts? I wanted to share with you an excerpt from a child named Pierre in Juvenile Hall:

A LETTER FROM JUVENILE HALL

It's a trip how life throws curve balls in the direction of us juveniles. I'm 17, about to be 18, but have lived through extremely difficult circumstances. Many people, including police officers, have told me I'll be dead by the age of 18. I can't help the fact that I grew up in a community where drugs and gangs run freely. Against all odds, I have attained my G.E.D., completed college courses, and am taking expressive writing classes.

Please don't blame our parents when they do everything they can to help us. My parents are law-abiding members of this society but still we get harassed. We breathe the same air, and eat the same foods. So, why are we treated so differently? Is it the color of my skin, the music I listen to, or the clothes I wear? We have dreams, ambitions, and desires of our own.

I am a person, not a wall. I hurt, cry, and bleed like you do. So, why treat my life like I'm nothing. All I ask is to open your eyes, stop making decisions without looking 5 years ahead. Why put us in a system that has no good outcome?

This system only destroys lives, families, and spirits within us. So, please think about a better way to handle the future because that is what we are. Now, ask yourself: are we worth it? You give me an answer or explanation.

Sincerely,

Pierre 

Lastly, I would like to thank the following people for your generosity in donating to this cause: my twin and Joe's cousin Isabelle, my dear friends Kelly, Michelle and Abbey, my amazing friend and running mentor Jessica.  You all put my bus into high gear!!  Thank you so much!!!!

Bruce Jenner is my biggest fan!!!

I hope that all of you have been enjoying the Olympics in Vancouver.  I have enjoyed so much watching the different athletes compete that I decided to adopt an oldie, but goodie for myself.  So in addition to having Sly Stallone as my trainer and Bob Barker as my liability, I now have a number one fan...Olympic Gold Medalist Bruce Jenner.  

Some of my more mature readers may recall the 1976 Olympics, where Bruce took the gold and set a world record in the Olympic Decathlon. He then went on to be inducted into the Olympic Hall of Fame in 1986. My younger readers probably know Bruce as Kim Kardashian's step father from the show Keeping Up With The Kardashians.  Now, the two generations can come together and you can know Bruce as my number one fan!

Now, I'm not going to lie, having an Olympian as part of my fan base has really ramped up my game and given me some true running cred.  At one time, there was no better runner out there than Bruce and now at this time, I have no bigger fan than Bruce.  Coincidence? I think not.

In the same, it also puts a little pressure on me.  In the time that I run one marathon, Bruce could probably run four.  However, he is now a motivational speaker who asks people to achieve their own personal best, which is all I can ever do.  So far, I've logged over 200 miles and I still have a month to go!  Whao!!

In addition to thanking Bruce for joining the Maria fan club, I have a couple of more thank yous as well.  First, to the two women who answered my call to donate this weekend: Kimberly and Karen.  As promised, Joe and I will match your donations.  Kimberly, I met you as my roommate, but you continue be a great friend.  Karen, you are the best employee and friend a girl could ask for and thanks so much for recruiting Bruce onto my team.  It means so much to me.  Lastly, to my sister and fellow marathon runner Kelly...  Your support in life and through the marathon process continues to fuel me.  I couldn't ask for a better sister or a better friend. :)

The challenge my challenge created...

Now some of you reading this, are probably thinking does Maria have any faults?  To that, I say, not many (just kidding); however, the liabilities I have always seem to add a twist to my life and sometimes to the lives of others.  

Anyone who has known me for a while can attest that I am not the best at directions.  When I got married, my head bridesmaid Sandra delivered a great speech about me and our friendship.  She started the speech by saying that when going anywhere I should consult with Joe first.  When we were in college, I took Sandra running in the dead of a Syracuse winter.  I told her that we were doing a quick loop around the university.  After 2 hours of running and me reassuring Sandra that "we were almost there," she astutely realized that I had no idea where we were.  We ended up in a gas station in a nearby suburb in Dewitt using an old pay phone to call everyone we knew to pick us up because our hands were starting to show signs of frostbite.  Needless to say, it was a long ride back and rightly so, no one was incredibly happy with me that day. 

Unfortunately, this challenge hasn't gotten any better with age.  After my own wedding in my home town where I lived for 18 years of my life, I got Joe and I lost on the way to our hotel.  We drove around for at least an hour.  I told Joe to drive to my house, which was in the wrong direction, and then I would be able to get us there.  He refused calling me 'a homing pigeon' because I can only know where I am going if I originate from my house.  He then looked up the directions on his phone and very quickly we were found.  

When I was living in NYC with my roomie and friend Kimberly, she quickly realized that this was an issue.  Knowing that much of my work was commuting around the city, she used to sit me down every night and ask me if I knew where I was going the next day.  I can tell you that this was a life saver for me because most times, I had no idea.

Living in Southern California, my issue is even worse.  This is a city that you can only traverse by car and there seem to be never ending roads going in every direction.  Joe bought me a GPS for Christmas one year (which later was stolen) and I used to get lost even with a GPS.  He could never figure it out.  He said, "Maria, it is impossible for someone to get lost using a GPS."  My response, "The people who made this thing never met me." Now, I don't leave home without my MapQuest directions in hand.  I don't like to be late so I always multiply the MapQuest directions by 2 and then I add an extra 30 minutes to get lost.  So far, this formula has worked for me.

It is no surprise that Joe maps out all my training runs. He also hands me a typed up list of all the turns and the street names that I need to go on, which so far has made it impossible to get lost.  However, I am excellent at making the impossible possible, especially when it comes to directions.  

This morning my partner Leanne and I took off at 6:30 am to do what we had thought was 17 miles.  During the first part of the course, we ran straight up Runyon Canyon, which is a huge 1.5 mile mountain that is uphill all the way.  Leanne kept jokingly asking me as we ran up the hill if Joe was mad at me or had planned to send us on a death march?  I assured her that it would get easier and until we got to the top, I could tell she was losing hope in me.  

We ran the rest of our run and no lie; it was by far the hardest run I've ever been on.  Through the last couple of miles, I actually had to drop off and go into a coffee shop's bathroom to get sick.  My body was also in intense pain, it was even hurting for me to grip my water bottle.  I wanted to just shrivel up and die, but I knew that Sunset Blvd wouldn't be a good place to do it.  So, I kept on going.  

Joe got worried when we were gone for over 4 hours.  He called me and I assured him that I would be home soon and that I just got really sick.  I had also lost all motivation.  I knew that the time it had taken me to run 17 miles wasn't great.  The thought of having to run almost 9 more miles for the regular marathon seemed impossible.  

When I got home, I started to cry and I told Joe that I wanted to quit.  He comforted me and asked what he could do to help me for next time?  I told him not to make the course so impossible.  I told him that starting our run up Runyon Canyon was just too ambitious for a 17 miler.  To that, he asked me what I was talking about.  I told him that he said to run up Runyon.  He pulled out the directions and showed me that nowhere in my directions did it say to run up Runyon.  It only said to run from one entrance to the other.  Then it clicked for both of us, this was no 17 mile journey.  

Joe went on to mapmyrun.com and found out the truth.  Leanne and I hadn't run the 17 miles that we thought we did, we ran close to 20 miles.  When I called Leanne, she also had figured this out.  She said that she didn't want to tell me when we were running, but this felt like a much longer run than 17 miles.  I had only expected my longest training run to be 18 miles next week, but now I can say my longest run was 20 miles!  So once again, my directional challenge had thrown in a new twist.  This time however, it was a pleasant surprise for both Leanne and I.

Stella, one of my favorites...

As I described in a previous entry, it is not often that I get a chance to have much interaction with the families that we serve.  However, every once in a while, I get a call from one of our families that just further reinforces why GOTB is so necessary.  This was the case with my dear friend Stella *:

I met Stella * last year totally by accident it seemed.  I was on the phone and she called in and was speaking to my assistant at the time.  My assistant needed to speak with the person who I was assisting so we just swapped calls.  From the moment I got on the line with Stella *, I knew this was going to be one of those conversations I wasn't going to forget.

Although I have never met Stella * in person, I can tell you from our many phone conversations that she knows how to get what she wants.  I think her gift in doing this is the way that she uses her charm and sense of humor.  She is always cracking jokes about the pitfalls that life has handed her and I must admit, she really is hilarious.  Stella * is also a very devout Christian.  One thing that I noticed about Stella * is that no matter how crazy things in her personal life get (and believe me they do) when I ask her how she is doing, she simply answers, "Maria, I am blessed."

On our first conversation, without any explanation as to who she was or what this was about, she confidently said, "Maria, you need to help me."  To that, I said, "Okay, I'm going to try, but can you explain how you would like to be helped first?"  With that, Stella * let out a hardy laugh and followed with this story:

She told me that she had been doing some research on transportation programs that bring people to the prisons and that GOTB had popped up.  She said that her boyfriend was at CMC prison and that his kids needed to see him.  I kindly explained to Stella * that our deadline for this year had passed and that the only way I could help her is if her boyfriend had signed up for the program.  As I searched for his name, she continued her story without skipping a beat.

She told me that her boyfriend had two children Bobbie *, 8 years old and John *, 6 years old.  Bobbie * and John * had lived with their biological mother all their life.  However, 2 months ago, their mother lost a very quick battle with breast cancer and the boys were taken from their home in LA and shipped off to San Bernardino, a county in the middle of the desert about 50 miles east of LA, to live with an elderly aunt.  The aunt La Quinta * was about 80 years old and didn't have great mobility and was less than pleased to have inherited the two little ones.  

Stella * takes the boys every other weekend to do something fun.  When she had taken the boys that past weekend, they broke into tears.  They said that they missed their parents.  Since their mother died, the boys had been asking her if they could go see their dad.  Because of the family's financial situation, the boys hadn't seen him in over 4 years.  Stella * pleaded with me asking if there was anything I could do for her?

Just then the most miraculous thing happened; I found an application from her boyfriend!!  Our bus coordinator had contacted the family and La Quinta * said that she wasn't interested in the program.  However, I told Stella * if she could convince La Quinta * to let the boys be escorted by her on that day, this could work.  Stella * immediately started to cry and said that I had been a gift sent down from heaven.  I told her not to get too excited because we had a long road ahead.

When we first got a hold of La Quinta *, she said that she wasn't interested in letting the boys go.  With about two weeks left until the trip, I thought this was definitely going to be a no go.  However, after much smooth talking from Stella *, Karen and I, she decided to let the boys go with Stella *.  All of the paperwork was in and I was expecting that this was a done deal until I got another call from Stella * about 3 days before the trip.  She said that she didn't have a photo id.  This was a major curve ball, as you need to have a valid photo id to get into the prison.

Stella * and I both spent hours on the phone with the prison trying to find a way to make this work.  The day before the visit, we found out that it just wasn't going to.  Depressed and distraught, Stella * pleaded for me to make this trip work for the two little boys.  I remember making a desperate call to Karen about the situation.  Karen drove out to San Bernardino and got more paperwork signed so one of our volunteers could escort the two boys the next day.  Without hesitation or sleep, Karen did it.  

The next day the two boys got on the bus to see their dad for the first time in over 4 years.  They had a wonderful visit and afterwards went to a local church in the SLO area to be welcomed.  Everyone had the opportunity to share what the day was like for them.  John * the youngest boy asked if Karen could come up to the microphone with him because he had something to say.  John * got up to the microphone and then backed away because he was scared.  He then whispered what he wanted to say to Karen.  With a tear in her eye, Karen delivered his message, "John* wants everyone to know that today was a very special day for him because his dad got a chance to sign his cast so his dad is going to be with him for a long time."

After the visit, Stella * called me and left me a 10 minute message saying how much it had meant to those little boys that we gave them the opportunity to see their father.  They were now doing better in school and adjusting to life.  It was still hard for them to cope with their mother's death, but now knowing that their father was there to support them, made a big difference.

Stella * called me this Thursday just to update me on everything that was going on with her and the boys. Her voice reigned clearly over the phone.  Without any introduction, I knew it was her when she said, "Maria, Happy 4th of July, Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas, Happy Valentine's Day, I've missed you." 

After last year's chaos, she got her photo id and has been up to the prison with the boys two times since the GOTB trip.  She jokingly said that on her last visit, she told the people at CMC not to mess with her because she "knows" people and then she pulled out her phone before putting it into a locker and said, "Look, I've got Maria on speed dial."  It wouldn't be Stella * without some type of drama.  A month ago she was in a car accident and is now at home recovering.  She wanted me to know though that she will be fine by the time GOTB comes around and she was upset that this ruined her plans of being a bus coordinator this year.  She told me that when the EMT pulled her out of the car, she said that she was crying and the EMT asked her if something was wrong and she replied, "I really wanted to be a bus coordinator for GOTB this year and now I can't." The boys are doing very well and are very appreciative to have their dad back in their life.  

Happy Valentine's Day to all of you and I would like to once again thank you all for supporting me.  I still have a long way to go.  GOTB is comprised of many stories and a lot of love.  In the spirit of Valentine's Day and love, if you would like to support children just like Bobbie* and John*, please make a donation toward this program.  For this weekend, Joe and I will do the same.  If you donate to me today or tomorrow, I will match your donation.  GOTB was founded on the $5 and $10 dollar donations.  There are instructions on the right hand side of this page of how to give.  Thank you again for believing in me.


* Names have been changed to protect identities.

Why I do what I do?

Working for the Center for Restorative Justice Works (CRJW) is a lot different than your average 9-5er.  First of all, the organization is run largely by nuns.  I know what you are thinking, boring...However, these nuns are not your plain Jane quietly reflective women in habits.  They are crazy just like me. (No offense ladies).  When I first met my nun (yes, I have a personal nun) Sr. Suzanne 6 years ago, she was the most 'unnun' nun I had ever met.  She was loud, fashionable and incredibly funny.  She is the type of person that you would want at a party because she is always having fun.  The other nuns are much like her as well.  Sr. Claire is in her 70's, but she has the energy of someone in their 20's.  Sr. Theresa is pretty much the mayor of SLO and the list goes on...When I decided to leave the Catholic faith to become Episcopalian, my grandma wasn't too happy. However, now we joke around because I have become more Catholic than ever just by the nature of my work.   I have also had 'Catholic-offs', competitions to prove who is more Catholic, with some of my friends.  I always win in the category "Number of Nuns Listed in Your Cell Phone." If you scroll under "S", I have at least 10 Sisters that you have to go through.  I even gave Kimberly a run for her money ;p.

Our office is funny at times, but we also have a great sense of community.  Every Wednesday, we take turns cooking lunch for the office and we have reflections.  About 2 months ago, Eric, my colleague, led us in an interesting discussion.  He prompted the question, "Why do you do what you do?"  He prefaced it by saying that, "With the talent in this office, we could all be doing a lot of different things and probably making a lot more money; however, why did you choose this world?"

As everyone went around the circle, I really began to think.  My obvious answer would be the experience with my dad.  However, even without this experience, I would probably be doing something in the nonprofit world to help others.  And then it hit me...

For those of you who don't know, I am from Pittsburgh, PA.  In my city, we work hard, party hard and watch our Stillers on Sundays.  Pittsburgh is an interesting place because much like most of the East Coast, there are neighborhoods of ethnic enclaves.  When I meet someone from Pittsburgh, I can almost immediately tell their nationality just by where they grew up.  I grew up on the west side in the city of McKees Rocks, which is largely inhabited by Italians.  McKees Rocks is not only a city, but it is a town.  This is where my dad's restaurant was located.  McKees Rocks the town was an old mill town that collapsed a long time ago.  Now when you walk the streets, you see a lot of hard working people trying to make it and a lot of poverty.  By way of my dad's restaurant, I spent a lot of time here as a child.  My mom always joked around saying the Primadonna was my dad's third child.  She was right.  However, this "sibling" thought me more about life and people than I had ever thought possible.

During my reflection, I told the stories of four people: Gordy, Coacheze, Chuckie and Meg*.  Gordy used to come into my dad's bar almost every day.  He was an older gentleman with a big stature and a hardy laugh.  He always ordered the same beer and sat in the same seat.  When I was little, I was incredibly shy and I was always scared of Gordy.  My sister loved him and used to sit on his lap when he came to the bar.  Gordy was at my dad's place every day of the year drinking, except for the holidays.  The Primadonna was always closed and our family would come down for our get together.  I remember on Christmas one year, I saw Gordy alone walking out of the bar across the street from the Primadonna.  After we wished him a Merry Christmas, I asked my dad why Gordy was alone at the bar on Christmas.  My dad said that drinking was the only thing he had.  That really stuck with me.

I love hearing my dad's stories about the old days of the Primadonna.  He was open all hours of the night and was as much a bouncer as a bartender.  It was during one of these nights that he met Coacheze.  My dad was new to the Rocks and in trying to get his sea legs, he would sometimes tick some people off.  One night after he broke up a fight and threw a guy out, the guy in anger said, "I'll be back and I'm bringing Coacheze with me."  Now, Coacheze was known around town as one of the craziest, most dangerous guys out there.  He stood well over 6' and was solid muscle.  His complexion was so dark that at night, you could only see the whites of his eyes.  He had a long rap sheet, but the cops were afraid of him so they stayed away.  When Coacheze came into the restaurant, my dad expected to be in some major trouble; however, he stood his ground and was respectful.  He told Coacheze that he was welcome, but his friend was not because he was fighting.  He then offered him a free drink.  Luckily, for my dad, Coacheze took the offer and the rest was history.  As my dad got to know Coacheze, he learned that he lived out of his car and my dad spent several years feeding him out the back door of the restaurant.  

Chuckie was another regular customer that I really loved.  He came to the Primadonna when I used to work there.  He was a Vietnam vet, whose cynical ways became endearing.  He was a small, quiet guy who always had a little smile.  Life had not dealt Chuckie the right cards; he fought for our country and never felt truly appreciated from it.  He, like Gordy, didn't really have any family.  He considered the Primadonna his home.  It was particularly hard when Chuckie became diagnosed with cancer largely due to Agent Orange.  Even though he fought for our country, the government didn't not consider him disabled enough and decided to not grant him health care.  We watched Chuckie die before our eyes.

McKees Rocks is no Beverly Hills; however, there is one part of McKees Rocks that even the locals look down upon and that is an area called The Bottoms.  The Bottoms, quite appropriately titled are located under the McKees Rocks Bridge.  The housing is cheap and the crime rate is high.  This is where Meg* lived.  Meg* worked for my dad for years.  She was not only a wonderful worker, but a kind soul.  Meg* lived in a 2 bedroom apartment in The Bottoms with her 10 children.  She and her husband slept on the floor.  Meg* was the popular girl in school who got pregnant.  She later married and she has been struggling to put food on the table ever since.  Having worked alongside Meg* for a long time, there is only one situation where she is not her best and that is when alcohol is involved.  After a shift, Meg* would drink her dinner.  My dad used to have to drive her home on several occasions.  A long time ago, being incredibly naive, I asked my dad, "Why don't you just get rid of Meg*?"  My dad turned to me and said, "Maria, we have a responsibility in this life to help others that no one else would like to help.  To do things for people that no one else would want to do.  To give a chance to someone who no one else would want to give."  And that is why I do what I do.

* Names have been changed.

Earned my bragging rights...

After a great training this weekend at SLO, I am back out there hitting the pavement.  Today was a pretty momentous day in my training.  After logging over 150 miles in my old shoes, I decided to retire them and so I got to run in brand new shoes.  This may seem like a pretty menial event; however, in the life of a runner, it is truly exciting.  For me, new shoes not only signify more comfort and that special "new shoe smell", but also how far I've come.  Just 3 months ago, I could barely run 3 miles without huffing and puffing.  Today, I ran 16 miles and felt amazing.  These exact shoes will also be the shoes that I will cross the finish line with next month.

If that wasn't enough, I also got another sign that the marathon is very close.  My 2nd toe nail on the right foot popped off.  Prior to running marathons, I have never lost a nail. However, when I am training for marathons, this always happens when I am in the midst of my high mileage.  To me, it is a sign that I am exactly where I need to be in my training.  Remember when I told you in the beginning this wouldn't be all glitz and glamor?  The truth finally comes out.

Lastly, I had a very interesting conversation with my neighbor Jeff today that really got me to reflect.  Quite often marathon runners lose sight of all their small accomplishments.  The only runs that seem to count for us are the actual marathon and any timed races we have competed in leading up to the marathon.  As I passed Jeff going into the apartment, he asked me how far I had just run?  Very nonchalantly, I responded, "16 miles."  His response, "Where did you go?"  When I spouted off all the streets and neighborhoods my feet just graced, he just looked at me amazed and said, "Wow, I would be annoyed if someone told me that I had to drive that far and you just ran it.  That is truly amazing."  

I would like to thank all of you who have believed in me and supported me throughout this process.  Your comments, your donations and the wonderful people that I have met all around the country in response to this blog has been incredible. Thanks to Jeff, I am starting to believe that every mile is an accomplishment.  I couldn't do it without all of you. :)

GOTB through the eyes of a child...

About a month ago, I received a personalized note from Tayla, a 10 year old girl from Northern California. She had cut a heart out of construction paper and colored it and inside tucked a $10.00 donation for the children of Get On The Bus. I was so moved by her gesture that I decided to contact her to learn a little bit more about what attracted her to Get On The Bus. Here is what she had to say:

Maria: How did you learn about Get On The Bus?

Tayla: My grandma told me that she was helping for it.

Maria: What do you know about the program?

Tayla: It is a program that brings kids to see their parents.

Maria: What made you realize that Get On The Bus was an important program?

Tayla: One time, my dad had to work really late and I missed him a lot. I thought about what it would be like to not see him and I got really sad.

Maria: Why is Get On The Bus necessary?

Tayla: Most kids can see their parents every day. It's only fair that everyone has a chance to get to spend time with their mom or dad. I am most happy when I am with my family.

Maria: Why should people give money to Get On The Bus?

Tayla: If people don't give enough money, then the kids won't get to see their parents until the next year. That would be very sad.

Maria: What will Get On The Bus do for the children?

Tayla: When kids get to see their parents, it is going to make them really happy. It is like if your parents went on a long vacation and then came back. You would be very excited to see them.

Maria: How did you raise the money?

Tayla: I always have a little bit of money with me. It was mostly from my allowance though.

Tayla's grandma told me that every year each member of the family chooses a charity to give money to for Hanukkah. Tayla had many options but she chose Get On The Bus. I think she highlights our program through the eyes of our clients: the children. Tayla has a point every child deserves to spend time with their parent.

My dad always says, "In the end, each of us will be judged by our standard of life, not our standard of living; by our measure of giving, not by our measure of wealth; by our simple goodness, not by our seeming greatness." Many people are lucky to learn this by the end of their life. It seems that at age 10 Tayla has grasped it. I would like to thank her for her donation. I would also like to thank one of our fellow bus coordinators, also a Pittsburgher, Jeffery Brick for his donation.

Back in the saddle...

For those of you who have been following my training, you know that last week was not one of my bests. It was a combination between having no sleep from preparing and executing our 100 person statewide GOTB bus coordinator training and an injury sustained from small talk with Bob Barker. However, before I knew it, the week was already over and I had only one 4 mile run and some change added to my running log. (On a normal week, I would have logged about 32 miles around this time).


As any runner can tell you, these weeks happen. However, when they do, it catches you off guard. Training for a marathon (if done correctly) is a gradual uphill process. Excuse the pun ;p Each week you do your short runs and on your weekend run, you tack one mile on per week. Eventually, you will get up to your goal, which for most marathoners is somewhere between 15-22 miles. (You never run an actual marathon until your race day). Then you taper about 2 weeks before the race to keep your muscles ready, but to avoid putting yourself in jeopardy of injury.

I was so disappointed this week with my progress or lack thereof that I was almost embarrassed. This blog is great for accountability. However, what do you write if you haven't been accountable? How do you tell all your readers and donors that you failed them this week? More importantly, how do you get out of the slump and rebound the next week? These were all the questions that were running through my head until I had an "ah ha" moment that made everything come together.

As part of the program this past Saturday, we had several presenters (regional coordinators and fellow bus coordinators) discuss their own best practices with the group. I had asked one of our star bus coordinators, who just also happens to be my husband, to talk about fundraising. On his agenda, he was delivering his avant-garde ideas, which included this blog. I was so nervous when he was coming up to speak. I kept thinking to myself, 'out of all weeks for him to talk about my blog, it has to be this one.' This was the biggest slacker week I've had since I've started my training. I felt ashamed and embarrassed.

As soon as we pulled up the blog and he announced that I was running the LA Marathon, the craziest thing happened: Everyone started to cheer for me. It was a completely invigorating feeling. I began to realize then that it didn't matter that I had an off week. No one cared. It was, but one more bump in the road.

As if this wasn't motivating enough, one of the new bus coordinators came up to me afterwards and started talking to me about running. He said his son was a runner as well and he had run several races for disabled runners. He told me that his son has cystic fibrosis and although wouldn't be able to do a full marathon, he was definitely in shape enough to do a half. He told me that he was going to encourage his son to blog about his experience just as I was blogging about mine. I started to realize at that moment that I wouldn't need to worry about what was going to get me back on track. Here it was.

When I laced my running shoes this morning, I thought of his son. As I started up my normal path, I decided that I needed to challenge myself so I took a turn up Runyon Canyon and did 4.5 miles of straight hills. Every time I wanted to stop, I just thought of his son and all the odds that he has to overcome on a daily basis and I made myself go faster.

Thank you to all of you who have supported me thus far. I am proud to say that I've logged over 150 miles and thanks to all of you, we've raised almost half our goal. I want to say a special thank you to one of my bestest friends in the world Sandra Palestine Burley and her husband Rob Burley for their donation this week.