Couch to Crim

My city has a big event this weekend.   It is the 45th annual Crim race.  Well, It’s not just one race, but a whole festival of races, originally started by the Honorable Bobby Crim, former Michigan State Representative.

Thousands of runners converge on the city tonight and run through our neighborhood tomorrow morning - in a variety of races.  Those runners have likely participated in a variety of training programs.   Many of them are serious runners - elite champions who travel the world to run in races like this one.

Others were maybe less serious about training but might have tried at least a “Couch to 5k” program.  No matter the level of seriousness or commitment, certainly many developed their own customized version of a “Couch to Crim” program.

I am not a runner, but I have clocked in a few seasons as a sort-of-serious walker, with my own version of “couch to 5k” training - and actually brought home a medal for best in age bracket or some such honor.

There is however another arena where I have taken on a serious commitment.  Not a marathon, but a pretty daunting challenge - not running or walking, but writing - known as NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) where people around the globe crank out 50,000 words during the month of November.   

This is a serious writing commitment but is for only one month of the year, mind you.  I have recently begun gearing up to the big commitment ahead of time.  Instead of waiting until November to suddenly write 2000 words/day, I decided to start in October and write 500 words/day and then 1K the next week.  By the middle of October I could bump my goal up to 1500 words so that by the last week I actually hit 2K some days!

Start small.

Take little steps toward being more serious.

Build those habits.

What a great idea!

The advanced training served me well.  Not only did I build my writing muscles with ever-increasing word count goals, but it also gave me a chance to start brainstorming ideas I might actually write about that year.  I filled cyber pages with crazy rambling paragraphs and loads of bullet lists.  That way when I turned my calendar to November, I was already accustomed to making my word count goals.  And rather than coming to the blank page with an empty brain, I came with tons of ideas in my head and even more tucked away in that other document just waiting to spill out when I need reminders.  I could hit the ground running as they say - or hit the ground writing.  Eventually from those 12 years of doing NaNo, one of those 50,000-word documents actually became a real book last year!

NaNoWriMo has become part of a pattern for me. An excuse to pause every autumn and choose whether and how to bump up my writing goals.

...

By the way, you can pick your own race event.  

Invent one if you need to.

Doesn’t need to be 10 miles - or even five miles.

Doesn’t need to be 5k - nor 50K.

(5 kilometers… or 50,000 words; get it?)

Your writing event doesn’t need to be NaNoWriMo.  

And it doesn’t need to have 50K words.

Or you could write those 50,000 words over a much longer period of time.

Because it is not about the event.  

The event is simply a tool to get you moving.

We think we train for the event, but maybe the event trains us.

Maybe the event provides the kick I need to get out there and get started.

Maybe the hype is what I need to motivate me to establish better habits.

To take incremental steps.

…

How about you, my friend?

What do you want to do?

How far do you want to be able to run or walk - or write?  

5k?  50K?

How many words could you crank out in a month?

In a day or a week?

What small goal could you start?

How will you bump it up next week or month?

What steps are you willing to take to move toward your goal?

You can design your own personal “Couch to 50K” training program.

Last July was too sad for me

It was a hard month, July of last year.

It began with the news that a cousin was gone unexpectedly.

He was a good guy.

We didn't know each other well but were working to rectify that.  After we landed in Flint, he pointed out how close we lived to each other. Close enough to meet up for coffee at my favorite cafe. We had already reconnected on-line and were intentionally getting to know each other.

I had been impressed with how James had come alongside our parents to assist and augment the family history project they had worked on for decades.  His intelligence, organizational skills, and computer expertise had been instrumental in strengthening family ties and annual reunions.

As I recall, we lived maybe 40-50 miles apart when we were kids. His family would come to our house at least once every summer.  I remember his parents as wonderfully kind and congenial; my parents dearly loved them as family and friends. 

 

At some point during those years, they began that big project together - or maybe I was just becoming aware of it.  I have no clue about all the work that went on behind the scenes, but I do have vivid memories of the huge scroll of paper containing the carefully drawn family tree rolled out on the table.  And I do know that several family members would later benefit from their research and would make pilgrimages to family landmarks in Ireland.

Lots of memories - but in limited arenas.  There was much more to both of us than shared family history and limited memories.  Now that we were grown-ups we wished to know more of the big picture of each of us. About who we are in real life.  I think it became important to both of us; at least it definitely was for me.  Something I enjoyed and looked forward to continuing. But we were too slow; the pandemic came along and spoiled those plans along with so many others.

But... without warning, he was gone.  The news hit me harder than I might have expected.  I mean, sometimes we don’t even hear about the loss of distant cousins.  But this felt different.  Besides the loss of another wonderful family member, it also felt like the loss of possibility.  Of plans and potential good times. Of friendship.

July was starting out to be sad…

And then on the fourth day of the month, my dear sister-in-love left us.  We knew she would be leaving, but there was no way to prepare for her to be gone.  She was my soul-mate. The sister I never had but had always wished for.  After nearly 50 years of getting acquainted, we were just getting started.  There was still so much I needed to learn from her.  So much we needed to tell each other.  We tried, but we ran out of time.

Sure enough, July continued to be sad…

In the meantime our dear friend and neighbor was terribly ill and might not survive the month.  Almost, but not quite.  On the last day of July, he was also gone.  He had been such a good friend to us when we first moved here and on through the pandemic.  Then again, he was just really good at being kind and befriending people and helping with all kinds of things.  

'Twas a sad month from start to finish…

And now it’s a year later.

We’ve made it through another July.

I needed to pause again, to sit with these losses yet again.

I’m still sad.

On the other hand I am also grateful… to have known three such wonderful people.

• Dr. James, Jimmy, family historian, good guy - kinda’ like his folks
• Dear sweet Karina, sister, encourager, challenger
• Neighbor Ron, good buddy, friend to everybody, great builder of guitars

My life is richer for having known each one.