Mantras: What You Tell Yourself Matters

My dear friend, Sam, wrote an interesting blog post earlier this week called 'Mantras.' Her blog post got me thinking (which is, I think, what all blog posts should strive to do), and ultimately it inspired the post you are reading right now.

Mantras originated as part of Hinduism (technically part of the Vedic tradition which I believe came earlier than Hinduism but parts of it were absorbed into Hinduism--including the use of mantras).  A mantra is a word, phrase, or sound that one says repetitively in order to induce a kind of spiritual transformation.  Yogis make frequent use of mantras.  The "ohm" sound most of us associate with yoga is actually the pranava mantra.  The pranava mantra is the way the word Aum sounds.  "Ohm".  This is literally the sound of creation.  No wonder it is used to bring about spiritual transformation.

I never put much stock into mantras.  I thought they were silly.  That is until this year.  Right before my 27th birthday I decided it was time to make some major life changes.  I was about to be 27 years old and I was miserable.  In addition to being in the worst health of my life and struggling daily with congestive heart failure, about which I was quite bitter, I was also unhappy with my career (or rather lack thereof).

I couldn't breathe (both literally and figuratively).  I ached all the time, all over.  The things the doctors were doing to me to keep me alive hurt and I simply did not appreciate their efforts to force life into my dying body, and it was dying.  I was dying.  My big plan to be a professor simply didn't pan out, nor did it make me happy.  I did not like the ignoble political games I was forced to play in order to get ahead.  I dropped out of my graduate program because I felt it was a waste of my time and energy.  I began applying for management positions at museums.  I always made it to the final round of interviews, but I never got the jobs.  I didn't have a M.A. in Public History.  Like I said, I was miserable.


Then 2 and a half weeks before my birthday I went to see my cardiologist.  My health was worsening and because I have such a complex series of diagnoses standard treatment wasn't working.  I also have something called "inappropriate sinus tachycardia".  IST makes your heart beat too fast, but doctors don't know what causes it nor do they know how to treat it.  Doctors also cannot agree on how dangerous this disorder is.  My doctor thought it would eventually kill me given my congestive heart failure.  So he proposed a radical plan to improve my health, a wholly experimental treatment.  It would be dangerous.  He wanted me to do aerobics.  People with CHF are not supposed to do aerobics because aerobics can lead to cardiac arrest for patients with this condition, patients like me.  But my doctor said, "I don't know if this will work.  I do know it will be dangerous.  But something has to change or nothing ever will.  Desperate times call for desperate measures, and I think this is a desperate time."

That's when my life changed.  That moment.  In that second I decided that I had to change in order to live. I applied for admission to the Public History program at my local college.  I was accepted. I would get that M.A. employers wanted me to have.  I took up walking.  I puked.  I hurt. I turned blue.  I kept doing it.  I thought "I can't do this." I read The Secret.  I tried to engage in positive thinking.  I decided that what I told myself about myself and what I was doing really mattered.  So I started using mantras.  Mantras, which I had previously thought of as silly things, became the very thing that kept me going. 

As I walked I chanted "I am not going to die. I am not going to die. I am not going to die."  Then I started jogging.  Slowly.  One minute at a time.  Five minute walking breaks in between each one minute stretch.  I decided I needed to shift my focus from death to life.  So I started chanting "I am going to live. I am going to live. I am going to live."  Then one day during a particularly difficult jog I had another realization.  I puked my guts up in my neighbors yard and my lips and fingernails were blue.  I was heaving for breath.  I thought this is not living.  I needed my body to be stronger.  So the next day I started chanting "My body is strong. My body is strong.  My body is strong." 

Some days I tie on my running shoes and head out the door and my heartbeat won't regulate itself.  It runs out of control, faster than it should, faster than my feet are carrying me.  My chest is tight and it is hard to breathe.  On these days I return to my earlier chant, "My body is strong. My body is strong. My body is strong."  I might have to shorten my run on these days, but I always run.  I always finish.  My body is strong.

Other days my feet carry me faster than ever before and my heart beats at just the right pace and my lungs expand with air and I feel like I am flying.  On these days I have a new mantra.  I am living. I am living. I am living. I am living.

What you tell yourself matters.

Are you living?

Run For Your Life (and Enjoy It)

I started running in March.  I haven't been medically able to run for a long time.  You can read about my progress here and here.  When I first started "running" I was really "walking."  Not jogging, not running, walking. And I dreaded it.  Every morning I got up to "run" (walk) and I had to force myself to do it.  It was not fun.  It did not make me feel good.  I usually barfed and almost always it seems I had an audience for my humiliation.  It sucked.  I hated it.

I've now been running almost 7 months, and I've recently started to really enjoy it.  I even ran my first ever 5k a few weeks ago.

That's me before the race.  I was excited, but also a little bit nervous.  My only goals were to finish and not to come in dead last.  I met both goals.

This is me finishing my first 5k:

It's not a pretty picture, but I'm proud of it.  It was 52 degrees and RAINING the entire time.  It was a cold rain, and an icy breeze blew the rain into my face (and onto my glasses) for the whole 47 minutes it took me to finish.  I was not the fastest person there.  I was slow.  But I finished.  And I did not come in dead last--11 people finished after me, 23 people did not finish in the allotted time and therefore were not counted, and 3 girls in my age division did not finish in time to be counted either.  I was happy with that result.  It was freezing.  The weather was not great.  I've never had so much fun in my life!

Since completing that 5k, I've really come into my own as a runner. I'm still not fast.  I still have bad days.  But instead of dreading every single step, I now look forward to each step.  Each step is progress.  I love my morning runs now.  I love them so much that I want to share them with you.

Here are few pictures from today's run (from about 8:30 to 9:30 AM, approximately 4 miles):

Before my run--I'm happy to be going.

Downtown is painted pink!  Business are going pink in honor of Breast Cancer Awareness Month.  I love it!

I am fortunate to have beautiful, historic homes to look at on my morning runs.  This one is one of my favorites.  The architecture is so unique.  

One of the many Victorians along our tree lined streets.

This is the historic court house. 

I love my running route.  I usually see and speak to several other runners.  I always see a few dogs, and most of the time I take my dog with me.  He's a great running partner.  In the spring the entire city is alive with vegetation and sweet smelling flowers.  I'm looking forward to watching the trees paint our streets in brilliant reds and golds this autumn. I'm lucky.  This is a great place to run.

This is me at the end of my run.  I'm sweaty and gross, but I'm happy. In your face congestive heart failure! I run for my life.  You should run for your's too.  Find a place that you enjoy going.  I love looking at historic buildings.  On the days that I struggle, knowing that a beautiful structure is right around the corner helps me stay motivated to finish.  On days like today, when the weather is brisk and perfect for a run, when the sun is shining and the sidewalks are clear except for a few other early morning joggers, loving where I run makes a great day better.  Happy running!

Running For A Cause

As many of you know, I have struggled with a serious heart condition all of my life.  I was a sickly child and by middle school I wasn't even medically permitted to participate in phys ed anymore.  So while my best friends were playing soccer and softball and running on the track team, I was forced to watch them from the sidelines. 

My family is athletic.  I was as active as possible until I was 12 and my condition began deteriorating.  My great grandfather even played pro baseball.  I hated not being allowed to do anything 'fun.'  Fast forward a decade and you have the day my heart stopped beating. I was in my early twenties.  Congestive heart failure was my diagnosis. 

You hear about cancer and diabetes and obesity every day.  No one ever talks about CHF.  No one ever talks about how young some of the people who get it are.  No one ever talks about how it makes it hard to breathe or how sometimes your fingers and your feet swell to twice their normal size or how sometimes your fingernails and your lips turn blue because you don't have enough oxygen in your body.  No one ever talks about the heart valve problems that lead to this disorder or how these disorders get in the way of a normal, active childhood.  No one ever talks about the sick kids who need specialized medical care. 

Well I'm going to talk about it today.  I was that sick kid.  I have battled heart disease since I was a child.  I have fought to live.  I have fought to breathe.  I have fought to get better.  For more than a decade I have waged war with my own body.  You probably don't know what that's like, but however horrible you think it sounds--it's worse.

For the first time in my life though, I have control.  I feel like I'm winning this never ending battle against this disease.  I have completed several rounds of cardiac rehab, and this last time....it stuck. 

In March my doctor told me I could start walking a mile a day.  I haven't been medically permitted to do that since I was 16 years old.  I'm 27 now. At first I could barely make it the whole mile.  I threw up.  I wheezed.  I coughed. My lips turned blue.   In May my doctor told me I could start jogging part of that mile.  Again, I wheezed. I coughed. I threw up. My lips turned blue.  I kept at it. 

Now it's the end of August.  It may have taken me nearly six months, but I'm going further and faster now.  I run 1.5 miles 2 to 3 times a week, and 3.8 miles once a week.  Some days I still wheeze, cough, turn blue, and puke.

I am happy to report that I currently show no signs or symptoms of CHF.  My mitral valve still does not work quite the way it should.  My heart still beats too fast.  But I'm okay...and I'm running.

Couch to 5k in 10 weeks?  Not me.  Couch to 5k in six months?  Yep, that's me!  I just signed up for my first ever 5k.  I picked Hit the Brixx 5k for my first 5k because it benefits Kid's Path.  Kid's Path is an organization that helps children living with life threatening illnesses, children who are sick.  I know what it's like to be sick when all you want to do is play outside.  I know what it's like to watch your friends do things you can't do.  I wanted my first 5k to benefit a cause that is dear to me.  I wanted to show these sick children that sometimes when you fight you win and sometimes miracles do happen. 

I don't have a lofty goal for my 5k.  My only goal is to finish.  This race requires you to finish in 55 minutes so I hope I can do that.  If you'd like to come support me and every other sick child (or all grown up sick kids) then please visit the website or show up on race day to cheer me on!