Cool Runnings

No, not a blog about Jamaican bob sledding...but a tribute to the beginning of my lifelong passion for running. Let me clarify that I am by no means a Steve Prefontaine wannabe, but I have committed to the "sport" of running consistently until the day that the Lord says STOP RUNNING ALREADY! But He hasn't yet so I keep running.

Let's go back to the beginning...I am one of the very first beneficiaries of Title IX. For those who don't know what this is, well it is basically our country recognizing equality in education for women, which meant that for every dollar spent on men/boys in academics and athletics, the same amount must be spent on women/girls. (Congress passed the bill on June 8, 1972. President Nixon signed Title IX into law on June 23, and it became effective on July 1, 1972.) I was in elementary school when this was passed and I remember what a big deal it was. As I entered Junior High the law had fully impacted our school system and there was finally funding for girls athletics in our schools. I was able to be a three sport athlete in our school and we had brand new uniforms in all sports.

So in the Spring of 1974 I went out for the track team. I wanted to be a sprinter. Come on, everyone wants to be a sprinter. I wasn't fast enough so, I ran distance. I could tell many horror stories about our track practices. Our coach wanted to be a boys baseball coach and had to settle for coaching girls sports. He decided to coach us like boys which was unheard of in the 70's. "Girls can't run as far as boys." "They are weak." "They will collapse if you push them too hard." These were common thoughts during this era. Well, we didn't collapse, as a matter of fact, we blossomed. That year I got the opportunity to run in the high school district track meet as a 6th grader. I ran the mile in 5 minutes 57 seconds. (Don't laugh) I qualified for the State Meet. Our team won the State Championship that year. It was pretty cool.

The next 4 seasons were pretty uneventful and I got to a point where I hated running. I hated the New Mexico spring winds that would blow the sand in your face. I would have a mouth full of dirt and my skin felt like needles were drilled into it. I hated it when we were loaded up in the back of the coaches truck and driven out into the country and dropped off. We were then expected to run the 8, 10, or 11 miles back to the high school. I hated the feeling before a race because I was expected to run faster than I did the race before but couldn't .

I decided not to run track my senior year which really aggravated the coach but I was burnt out.

The next year in college I was at first thrilled with the independence and the freedom from sports, from practice, from running, until I realized that the college life had added 20 quick pounds to my 5'4" frame. I reluctantly started running again. I would go out early in the mornings before classes and before I knew it, I figured out that this was my thing. I really liked running. I liked the way it made me feel. I liked the alone time and the way I could think through issues in my life while I ran. I like the physical effects. Running was my friend.

Through the years of having my children I still kept running. It was my way to get away and take care of myself. I attribute my physical health and energy to running. (I continue to praise God for allowing me to run) When Kyle got sick and I spent weeks on end at Children's Memorial I would bring my running clothes and go for a run when he was sleeping. It was very therapeutic and it was so healthy for me to get out of that hospital for a few minutes at a time. After Kyle died I would go out to run and mourn. There were days when the grieving would be so heavy that I'm sure I freaked several people out as I would run and cry and heal and pray and praise and run and cry!

Twelve years ago I decided to do something I always wanted to do but never really believed I could, I wanted to run a marathon. It was one of the most surreal and amazing experiences of my life. I cried when I crossed the finish line and like I said already, I give God the glory for that accomplishment and for every time I lace up my shoes and go out to run. I get my best time with the Lord during a long run and I come up with some of my best & creative ideas while I'm running.

I know that it could end in a second...I could get inured, I could get hit by a bus, I could get sick, but we will cross that bridge when and if it happens. I just know that for now when I get up tomorrow I can run.

Louis Neal Howell

That is my dad's name. I don't know much about my dad, he wasn't a big part of my life. I have thought about him much more frequently over the past few months. I think it's because now that we have Ethan in our lives and we get to be called Grandparents it has really made me think how much my children missed out with not having a grandfather.




Well, one of the things I remember about my dad was that he was in and out of VA hospitals most of my childhood. I also remember that when my mom would visit him in the hospital we would hang out in the lawn area of the hospital for what seemed an eternity as a kid. We were not allowed in the hospital. I hated those days.

You see, my dad struggled with depression, but on top of that he was involved in a serious car accident when he was in the Navy. His face was severed and he suffered slight brain damage. When I was almost 9 he was finally successful in his quest for death.
I got home on the bus after school and the thing I remember most about that hot May day was that I just wanted to get inside the house out of the heat. The front door was locked so as I went around to check the back door I heard my grandpa coming down the road. I was about 10 seconds away from walking around the corner of the house to see my dad on the ground with his brain matter splattered all over the outside of the house. Yes God was actively working in my life that day. I can't imagine how that image would have scarred my young life.



So the years following my dad's suicide were difficult to say the least. I questioned on many occasions why God would allow us to live in this home without a dad, there was a lot of anger after he left. Why were things so tough? Well I can testify that God brings about good for those who love Him! The Lord has used that tragedy to shape my life for His good purpose and has blessed many in many ways.

One of the blessings I have received is that my siblings and I were all able to attend college on the GI Bill because of my dad's military accident. With our very limited income, we would have never been able to pay for college. New Mexico State University is where I met a very handsome football star and well, the rest as they say is history...

Who Cares?

You know, I've read several blogs and have read what people have to say. Some are very interesting and others...meh.. I've also thought, wow, how self-centered do you have to be to post a blog. But, I have recently had a change of heart when an elderly women came into the physical therapy clinic where I work and briefly shared with one of my coworkers about her life. It seems that this sweet and soft spoken Polish women is a Holocaust survivor. Her dad was in the Polish Resistance and died when she was a young girl. He was killed at Auschwitz. Ummm, WOW! She didn't have time to tell her more about her life except to add that her husband died a couple of years after they were married leaving her with two young children. I wanted to know more. I thought, I wish she had a blog to let people know about her life, her struggles, victories, happiness, pain, etc... I hope to engage with her soon to hear more firsthand. We'll see.

That brings me to this inaugural blog...I have shared stories from my life to people but I've never recorded anything in type, not that my life stories are as dramatic and meaningful as a Holocaust Survivor but who knows, in another 50 years someone may find it interesting and maybe helpful. So, that is my goal and we will see how this goes...