What is Survive?

I heard a little boy ask his dad that very question this morning while running the LIVESTRONG Philly 10k race. The father was explaning to his son that they were running in honor of a friend of his, who had cancer. “He didn’t survive, ” the father said, to which the little boy responded, “What is Survive?”

I didn’t hear what the father answered, as I had already gone into my head, asking myself that very question. As I ran the rest of the race, I came up with a few answers:

1. It’s waking up for days in a row, feeling like you don’t want to get out bed, but doing it anyway, until the day you finally want to get up again.

2. It’s watching someone close to you suffer, knowing there’s nothing you can do about it, but be there for them, and allow them to inspire you to be better.

3. It’s being better.

4. It’s the voice that says “keep going” when you think you can’t take another step. You can.

5. It’s forgiving AND forgetting.

6. It’s enjoying, appreciating, and being grateful for the little miracles that are all around us and happen every day.

7. It’s constantly broadening your scope – you’re never too old to learn something entirely new.

8. It’s laughing, loving, and being with friends and family.

9. It’s taking full responsibiliy for yourself and your actions.

10. It’s living with your eyes open, being awake, aware, and alive.

11. It’s having fun while you’re at it. :)

A year ago today, I woke up and headed out to my first ever “official” race – The LIVESTRONG Philadelphia Challenge. It was a 10k, and I was anxious about running that distance. I was nervous, sad, and alone, and I cried on the way there. This morning, I headed out to that very same race, and again cried on the way- this time out of joy and amazement in the difference one year and 9 races can make in a person. Live strong and prosper, everyone. You’re worth it.

 

The Heat is On.

I am a summer girl. I’ve always loved summer and defended it and all its glory to anyone who dared to say otherwise. That was before I became a baker and runner.

Over the past two years, I’ve been steadily increasing my skills in both. But during the last fall/winter/spring, I really put the pedal to the metal – graduating pastry school last December…

my pastry school “final”

…and running a half marathon in April.

13.1, baby.

So when this summer started, I was rolling steadily along, baking and running almost every day. Well, as the temperatures crept up (and boy, did they creep), I realized that the summer was having a negative effect on these very things that had become such an integral part of my existence.

Sure, I can work out inside, and yes, my kitchen is air-conditioned. But even so, unless the AC is pointing directly at my butt or buttercream, things start melting. So, as much as it pains me to write these words, Summer, it’s over. It’s not you, it’s me. Seasons change, people change – and you no longer fulfill my needs. I’ll always love you, and I’ll always think you’re hot.  And there will always be a part of me that misses you throughout the rest of the long, cold year. But alas, I’ve gotta do what’s best for me. I hope we can be friends.

thanks for the memories.

I know you’re upset, but you didn’t have to go and melt the ice cream I left in the kitchen just now. Jerk.

 

Run hard when it’s hard to run.

I was running last night, and did 6 miles. That’s an average run for me these days – 6-8 miles. It wasn’t always that way, don’t get me wrong, but it is what it is, and don’t think for one second that you couldn’t get to that point, too. But that’s not what I’m here to discuss right now. I’m hear to discuss the magic of 3 – 3 miles that is.

I’ve thought about it before – even before I started running long distances. When i was in the early stages of running, I found that getting to 3 miles was extremely difficult. However, one day, I crossed the 3 mile threshold and something changed – training became easier. Ramping up my mileage was suddenly no longer a daunting task, and running was no longer painful – it became fun, exhilirating and even made me happy.

But not for the first 3 miles. For some reason, on every run, the first 3 miles are ALWAYS the hardest. It goes a little something like this:

Mile 1: Awww yeah! I’m gonna rock this run!! Feels like i’m walking on air!

Mile 1.5: Gee, my shins and ankles kinda hurt. And I feel tired. Should I stop?

Mile 2: WTF is wrong with me? Why am I doing this again? My legs feel like lead, and I can’t think of anything other than the pain of every step.

Mile 2.5: GOOD GOD, I’m torturing myself. What for? I hate running!! I’m gonna stop…I can’t take it anymore!!!

Then, just when i’m about to give in, suddenly there’s….

Mile 3: Hello world! I love this life and can go for miles! What’s pain again? Let the real run begin! And the rest is smooth sailing.

Last night, this hit me extra hard. I haven’t done much running since the Broad Street Run a week and a half ago, so this was my big return to running. Those first 3 miles were almost unbearable. I thought about giving up more than a few times. But I knew that if I kept going, I’d get through it, and come out stronger on the other side.

And so I did. But I realized something else as well. I’ve learned so much from running – it’s been a mirror for what’s going on in the rest of my life, and has taught me how to deal with and get through some dark and difficult days. Last night, I learned that there are situations in my life that I’m almost through – that I keep getting close to out-running – yet I just can’t seem to cross the threshold, and I wind up surrendering to the pain. Each time, I do get a little closer though. Even so, I wind up beating myself up over it – because I gave in – again.  But then I remember back to before I reached that 3 mile mark for the first time – I did not know I’d be ok on the other side, and the fear of the unknown was what made it so difficult to keep going. Now that I know, I can handle the pain, and run through it. Not knowing what’s on the other side is my biggest fear. It took time to build up the strengh to run through those first 3 miles. I gave up many times. But eventually, after trying over and over and over and over, I finally did it. And there’s no turning back now.

What I’m learning is that It’s ok if you don’t cross the 3 mile mark right away. It’s ok if you give in to the pain. Just as long as you get back out there, and try to out-run it again. Eventually, whether you believe it or not, you’ll cross over. And it will be great.

 

Best Vanilla Cake Balls Ever?

Last week, i made the Best Vanilla Cake Ever, and proceeded to ice it with a delicious buttercream. Then, i covered it in an air-tight container, and put it in the fridge, hoping that the perfect use for it would arise sometime during the week. Well, it did, even though it was not quite what i had initially envisioned. You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need. The best vanilla cake ever has become:

The Best Vanilla Cake Balls Ever!

simply the best.

My next step will be to cover them with chocolate, and turn them into Pixie Cakes! I was totally going to do that today, but I ran the Broad Street Run this morning, and afterwards I was so beat, I passed out on the couch.

it was definitely worth it.

Anyway, I promise in my next post there will be Pixie Cakes, complete with decorative adornments. Until then, may the wind be at your back, and the oven be ever full.

 

Sweet Sounds.

Clearly one can gather from this blog that I love baking, and I love writing. If you’ve read a few posts, you may have also gathered that I love running. There is one more love of mine, which you probably don’t know, as I’ve recently come to realize I have not once mentioned it on the blog: singing.

Before I was a baker, writer, or runner, I was a singer. I’ve been a singer pretty much since I learned how to talk. I may have even sung my first word (it was “Dad.”).  I started wondering why I hadn’t mentioned singing at all on the blog, and without getting too much into it, it was because shortly after I started the blog, I suddenly lost my “voice.” Not literally – I could still physically sing. I just could not mentally. It was not stage fright – anyone who knows me knows that the concept of “stage fright” is completely foreign to me. It was literally like I woke up one morning, and never wanted to sing another note, period. Suddenly, the thing I’d loved the longest was torture for me. I was practically repulsed by the idea of getting up in front of people and performing. So I just stopped.

I did virtually no singing/performing for about 9 months, excluding a couple of fill-in gigs and a back-up singing gig here and there. But nothing that was mine - I had removed myself from singing just as the desire had removed itself mysteriously from my heart. I even managed to convince myself (and one of my close friends) that I never really wanted to sing anyway. That performing wasn’t “for me.”

Then, I woke up.

Performing, singing…these are a part of me – they are ingrained in my soul – part of my make-up, my DNA. I’ve been singing since I was THREE YEARS OLD. It’s who I am – it’s my essence. I mean, I have a treble clef tattooed on my shoulder, for pete’s sake. Before anything else, there was singing. And anyone who’s ever sung their heart out on stage knows what a wonderful, amazing, fabulous, and therapeutic release it is. Singing makes me feel alive. Music is the key to the soul. My key must have temporarily slipped under the rug - but thank God it has been found.

So, in keeping with the baking theme, I’m now singing with an acoustic duo, called Sugarbox, and as the name implies, it’s pretty sweet.  Click the image below to check us out, if you’re so inclined.

the sound of sugar.

So if you’ve lost your “voice,” fear not – it will return, when you’re ready. In the meantime,  running a marathon might help.

 

Half Time.

After months of training, I did it – this past Sunday, I ran my first half marathon. Being that it was my very first time running 13.1 miles (the most I’d run up to that point was 10), I was nervous. My goal was to finish, running the whole time. I wasn’t too concerned with time. I just wanted to be able to say “I ran a half marathon” and have it be true. And so it is.

and i have the medal to prove it.

There are three things this experience has taught me:

1. It’s all about pacing yourself. I have a tendency to be a tad competitive, however in order to run a distance such as this, I realized I’m gonna have to let that go. People are always going to pass you. You are always going to pass people. Your goal and their goal are not the same goal. Focus on your goal, and don’t allow yourself to feel inferior because someone appears to be faster than you. You have no idea where they came from or where they’re going. Let them do their thing while you give your full attention to yours.

2. You can’t be great overnight. If I really think about it, I guess you could say I’ve actually been training since 2008, which was when I started running on a regular basis. Last year, I really picked up the pace though (literally) and when Jan 1st 2012 came around, I believed in my running (and training) ability enough that I decided a half marathon would be a New Year’s Resolution. I worked my butt off, folks. When I crossed that finish line, I cried. I’m not ashamed. Getting to that point took hours of hard work, intense training, and proper preparation. It takes all three of these in perfect harmony to run a marathon: and that principle can be applied to anything you really wish to achieve for yourself. You can do whatever you put your mind to, you just have to be willing to put in the work.

3. I will survive. As I was running along the Atlantic Ocean (yes, this marathon was at the beach!), “I Will Survive” came on my ipod. I did not have a pre-programmed “race playlist” – I like to let my ipod surprise me. Well, as the song played, and I ran and ran, I realized that no matter what happens, I really will survive. If I’m strong enough to run non-stop for 13.1 miles, I’m strong enough to stand on my own and do what’s best for me in other areas of my life; even if at first I’m afraid, and I’m petrified. I’ll hold my head up high.

I guess what I’m getting at here is that running a half marathon has changed my life. It taught me lessons I really needed to learn, such as patience, pacing, and doing what’s best for ME. I have had a recurring dream my whole life that tornadoes were chasing me; I refuse to ever dream that dream again.

I’ve finally decided my future lies beyond the Yellow Brick Road.

 

I just felt like running.

I’d like to take a break from talking about baking for a post, and instead focus on my second favorite thing to do: running.

Today I ran my 4th “official” race. It was a 5 mile run, at the Philadelphia Art Museum. It was cold. But man, it was worth it. It’s always worth it. There’s nothing quite like the energy of a race, particularly a big one. Hundreds of people, just waiting to start running, all doing it for their own personal reasons – health, a cause, an escape – and all at their own pace. The air is electric at a race – regardless of your personal reasons, the goal is the same: to cross the finish line. We’re all connected by our desire to finish. Yes, it can be competitive – but it’s never angry or hostile. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Everyone wants to see everyone else finish. We’re all in this together – a large mass of continuous movement, floating through the atmosphere to our destination. Everyone is smiling at each other, everyone respects each other. It’s a beautiful thing, and if you haven’t ever participated in a race, I highly recommend it.

from a 5k last fall. I won my age group!!

But what I’ve really been thinking a lot about lately, is how I got here. Four years ago (the summer of 2008), I started to get more into running. I ran a couple miles a day, and realized I actually liked it. 10 years ago, I was very into fitness, but really only running a mile at the gym to warm up for the rest of my workout. 18 years ago, we had to run the mile in 11th grade gym class, and I cheated. I cheated running 1 mile. That’s right folks, I was a lazy teenager. Thanks to the good genes of my slender parents, I remained relatively so as well, but I was by no means in good shape. We had to run 4 times around the football field to complete the mile. I had this grand scheme that I shared with my friend: “hey, if I run slow enough, I can let the faster runners catch up to me on my third loop, and it will look like I ran all 4.” It worked. Shame on me.

a welcome sign at 17 years old.

Flash forward to last weekend. I went out for a Saturday afternoon run, and 1 hour and 38 minutes later, I had run 9 miles. Not only had I run 9 miles, but I felt GREAT. Honestly, I felt like I was walking. I  had to check about 5 miles in to make sure I was actually still running because it felt so…natural.

it all starts with a dream and a desire.

Now, I will never be the fastest runner; that’s OK. I may never run a full marathon; that’s OK too. (I am running my first half next month though – so stoked!). The point is that a person who cheated running 1 mile is fully capable of running 9. You can always change yourself, you just have to want to. A very wise man once said, “There’s still time to change the road you’re on.”  So put on your sneakers, and do it.

 

Live Strong and prosper.

So some of you may know that in addition to being a baker, I’m also an avid runner. Odd combination, you may think, however the two really work to balance each other out. I don’t think I could do one without the other. I bake, therefore I run; and vice-versa.

The point is that I’m running in the 2011 LIVESTRONG Philly Challenge, on August 20th. I’m taking an active part in the fight against cancer, and the money I raise will go to support LIVESTRONG’s programs and services, which inspire and empower people affected by cancer.

 Please support me as I make a difference in the cancer fight through my participation in Team LIVESTRONG.  No donation is too small.

To make a donatation, please visit my personal fundraising page: http://philly2011.livestrong.org/divajay9

Thank you all for your support, and maybe I’ll even see some of you on race day.

PS: if you’d like a LIVESTRONG bracelet, I’ve got plenty to share.