Running on an angel's wings in the Philly Marathon

It’s been a long time since I last blogged, but I did not want this final day of the year to pass without sharing my last marathon experience.

Farah Jadran's Philly Marathon finisher's medal!

While this was not my fastest marathon or my best overall experience, it was one of the most powerful ones I have ever run.

As you might remember, my last marathon, San Diego Rock ‘n’ Roll on June 2, was a fantastic run. I ran a 3:33:33 and felt strong even after a hilly course challenged every part of my body and mind. However, the next marathon would not go as planned…

I began preparing for the 2013 Philly Marathon in late July, only to find myself injured after a triathlon and missing more and more training runs because I was so busy with work. I was sleeping less each night and feeling less confident in my ability to break 3:30 with every week that passed.

I was weak, slow and scared. A marathon is not a 5k or 10k that can be “eeked out” with some general mileage base and heart and soul. You can’t cheat a marathon and all that it has in its power to play with your mind.

Like my San Diego run, I was raising awareness and funds for Hope for Heather Ovarian Cancer Awareness of CNY for my Teal Mission to Philly. The mission was going strong and we again raised a lot of money for a great cause.

Raising funds is one part of the mission. After that, raising awareness leading up to the marathon and also during it, is the next part of the mission. Finally, completing the marathon itself rounds out the mission. I knew that that final step was going to be tough.

Within six weeks of the marathon, I only hit 18 miles and 20 miles once each and managed a 16-miler on a few occasions with time and energy dictating those runs.

The date of the Philly Marathon was set for Sunday, Nov. 17, and it was meaningful because it would fall only a few days after the anniversary of the passing of Heather Weeks. Heather was the inspiration for the start of the non-profit organization. It was her hope to find a cure for ovarian cancer and to raise awareness among women for this silent killer.

As Heather’s mother, Frieda, would say and remind me… “Heather got her angel wings on Nov. 14.”

Knowing that I would run this marathon three days after Heather’s angel anniversary made me hopeful that I could actually complete this marathon and that I would complete the Teal Mission.

About five days prior to the race, Frieda told me not to worry and then she told me, “You’re running on angel’s wings.” She meant that Heather would be there with me.

On the morning of Nov. 17, someone asked me, “Are you ready for your marathon?” Without hesitation, I broke down and I began crying. No, I was not ready. In fact, I could have gone back to sleep.

I thankfully slept for seven hours the night before the marathon, but when I woke up at 4:30 a.m., I would have gladly gone back to sleep for seven more. But that is not what the mission is about. I was tired. But that didn't matter. I was there to fight. I was there to raise awareness and turn the city of Philadelphia teal.

I continued to feel scared upon arriving to the starting line in downtown Philly. I was worried that I would not be able to finish the race once I started.

Since I was there with a goal to PR, I ran stubborn and went out at the pace I wanted to keep to break 3:30…but, I did this knowing that it wouldn’t last. I knew I would most likely fall off this pace. Nevertheless, I wanted to try.

By the time I made it to my starting corral, I already felt more scared and apprehensive. 

The gun went off, and I began to pray, literally. I probably said more than 500 Hail Mary’s and Our Father prayers during the marathon.

Each time I made it to another mile, I said, “Thank you,” out loud.

By the time I reached mile 8, I knew I was in trouble. I was going to have to power through 18 more miles with no gas in the tank. My mind was tired and my body was farther gone.

With all the running chips stacked up against me, I knew I had to continue fighting for the Teal Warriors and to bring the Hope for Heather mission across the finish line. I passed out ovarian cancer awareness symptom cards to spectators and at water stations, too. This was my focus.

The Philly Marathon also has a half-marathon, and this factor did not help me. When you are about to hit mile 12, the half runners go to the right and the marathoners (and me) go to the left. I could see the finish line and I looked at my watch… I could PR my 13.1 time, but that’s not going to happen. I am going to run 26.2 miles and knowingly get slower and not PR at all.

I continued on my path and said goodbye to the finish line.

The feet that completed the feat.

It’s at this point that I started to notice that there was one familiar name being called out very often as I was running.  

Everyone has their name printed on their official marathon bibs, so every now and then I hear a cheer with my name in it, but more often than anything, I hear another name being cheered for…

“Go Heather!”

The first time I heard it, I looked to see who it was. It was a woman in red that I was passing. Then, a few miles later, I heard it again, but this time it was a different woman. 

After that, I continued to hear many cheers for different women named Heather for the duration of the marathon.

It gave me chills the first time because I knew I was hearing this name for a reason. But when I kept hearing it, I knew that it was happening so that I would keep pushing forward.

As I prayed and heard Heather’s name being called around me, I started to feel a light pressure upon both of my shoulder blades. You can make your own assumption to what that might have meant, but I took it to mean precisely what Frieda had told me prior to this day ― I was indeed running on an angel’s wings ─ Heather's angel wings.

I continued to run with this spiritual power inside me because I definitely had no physical power at this point…which was around mile 15. I still had double digit miles to complete and the certainty that I could finish started to grow.

While I did get slower, more miles than others, I felt that I would make it to the finish line. I was grateful to complete each mile. When I got to mile 16, I said, “Thank you.” And then I said, “Please, just get me to mile 17.” And I did this with every mile marker, until there were no more to be crossed.

I had pain in my legs like I’ve never had before but my heart was filled with hope. During the final mile, I was in disbelief that this horrific battle was almost (and finally) over. I struggled the most I ever have in the final stretch. I had cramps in both legs and I fought past the famous knee-buckling action that hunts down marathoners in the final 800 meters.

But with all my prayers, supporters of the cause and the power of the angels ― I did it. I ran 26.2 miles without stopping, without walking and without falling short of the goal to raise ovarian cancer awareness.

I crossed the finish line in 3:44:33, which is exactly 11 minutes slower than my run on a harder and much hillier San Diego course only five months prior.

I ended up running a solid time despite my lack of training, rest and overall confidence. And I ran a time that still snuck in as my third (out of four) overall fastest marathon times.

If you’re a runner, missing a PR is tough, but I made peace with this “loss” long before the race was over. My goal turned into the desire to finish and stay standing.

When I was finally out of the finishing area, I said this out loud, “That was the hardest thing I have ever done.” And in many ways it was, at that moment. I will have many more “hardest ever” moments in my life, but for now, this one tops them all. I was so frightened by the 26.2-mile feat that I have completed before and I was not sure if I was going to make it.

This marathon taught me that anything is possible, even the impossible.

I wish you all runners and non-runners the best on this New Year's Eve and here's to 2014!

Until my next post, be beautiful and genuine ― in other words, be you!

Missing Boston by 11 seconds

I had a goal in mind when I began training for the San Diego Marathon that took place in June 2. While I ran a solid time and improved my previous 26.2-mile performance by 10 minutes, there was something more that I wanted.

For my current age (and all ages have specific requirements) it is required that I run a 3:35 or faster for the marathon distance in order to qualify for the 2014 Boston Marathon. I did accomplish this. I ran a 3:33:33 in San Diego on June 2, 2013, and so it would appear that I “qualified” for the big race. Good deal!

Because I ran a Boston Qualifying (BQ) time, I decided to give it a shot and register for the 2014 race. Also, I do realize that the upcoming race has much controversy and maybe even fear surrounding it; however, as a long-time runner ― nothing will scare me (not even a cowardly duo equipped with explosives) from the tradition and spirit of the marathon.

That aside, I entered my information and BQ into the system in mid-September only to find out this in the official email at the end of the month:

Thank you for submitting your application for entry into the 2014 Boston Marathon. Regrettably, we are unable to accept your application due to field size limitations and the large number of applications we received from Qualified runners. Entries from applicants in your age group were accepted through and including the time 3:33:22.

Yes, it’s true, I missed the cut-off by 11 seconds! It is painful knowing that at the halfway point of the SD Marathon I was on pace to run a 3:28 and change, but as the race went on ― the hills came, and came…and came! I fell off pace and ran a 3:33:33 instead.

I know I ran my marathon with heart and earned a solid PR and a time I am proud of, but I can't help but feel a slight feeling of disappointment. Being a runner is tough. You're up against you and only you. And when you let yourself down, there is no one else to blame.

I am on to the next marathon, which is the Philadelphia Marathon on Nov. 17. This year marks the 20th anniversary of the Philly Marathon. I am thrilled to be a part of this and to be running on a Teal Mission again to support Hope for Heather Ovarian Cancer Awareness of CNY.

So, on April 14, 2014, I will not be running in the 118th Boston Marathon. However, I will be running and I will be running with heart.

Until my next post, be beautiful and genuine ― in other words, be you!

Riders: Beware the mean racer

On Sunday, Aug. 4, 2013, more than 1,000 other women, myself included, arrived to Oneida Shores in Brewerton, N.Y., to become Iron Girls. This was the fifth annual Athleta Iron Girl Syracuse Sprint Triathlon event to grace the region.

Three years ago, I took on a challenge to become an Iron Girl for the first time. As a long-time runner, I never thought I could complete a triathlon because I had very little experience in both the swim and bike legs of a triathlon event.

No matter, I worked at becoming sufficient in those two events while keeping my running base strong. While practicing the transitions is necessary, there is no comparison to how that part will go when it comes to the actual race day. I went into the 2011 IG race with a little bit of fear and also a lot of excitement thanks to the support of fellow female athletes. The same went for the 2012 race. I completed both with a fire in my heart and fantastic experiences.

This year, I went to the line with the same expectations and rightfully so! Every woman I saw prior to the race was excited and ready to give me a hug and a “good luck” just as I did for them. While you wait on the beach for your age group wave to go off, those interactions with positive people is what keep you motivated and fired up for the race ahead. Otherwise, you would most likely stand there and wonder, “What did I get myself into?” And that is quite natural, but the kind words of encouragement and last-minute hugs and high-fives really do make a difference.

And so the horn went off for the 25-29 age group on the shores of Oneida Lake this past Sunday and I took off in water…

I had a rough beginning in the water since another swimmer’s hand came over me and hit my goggles. She immediately paused her stroke and apologized, which was very kind of her to do. And the right thing to do, right?

I told her, “It’s OK, let’s keep going!” My right eye was filled with water and I tried to figure out a way to adjust it without pausing again. It turned out there wasn’t a feasible way of doing this without slowing down so I let it be. I wear contacts so this was not a great feeling and it was blurring my vision quite a bit. I guess this is part of being an Iron Girl ― goopy lake water in the eye!

I came out of the water feeling fairly strong and with a PR for this leg compared to my previous performances in this race with a 13:26. My first transition took a little longer than planned because I was struggling to peel my wet suit off. Again, it’s part of being an Iron Girl. I got dried off and grabbed my bike in 2:49 and headed out to begin the 18.6-mile course.

I was feeling good and averaging about 19mph on the course while covering a few miles or so thus far. Then, came the railroad tracks…

Thankfully, in all my sprint and Olympic triathlon experiences I have never experienced a bike crash. More importantly, I have never come across a fellow athlete who lacked consideration for his or her fellow racers.

As I proceeded to cross the tracks, as I have done in the last two years of this event, I noticed a racer to my left who was coasting and braking (something you should not do on railroad tracks) while also turning her front wheel toward me. I began shouting, “Stop!” and “Watch out!” but she didn’t stop and kept heading toward me. Her wheel went into my front rim and I knew what was coming.

In reality, it all happened so fast, but I could see and feel myself flipping off my bike and bouncing on to the railroad tracks and on to some nearby grass. I looked up only to see the crash-causing racer continuing on her way… Never slowing down. Never looking back. And most certainly, she didn’t stop or make an effort to ask if I was OK. Most importantly, the word “sorry” was never mentioned.

Fortunately, I started to gather my bearings to get back up and get back on the bike. I still had 16-some miles to go and that was a daunting fact to fathom at that moment given my fall and the pain I was feeling. While I was working on getting back into the race, women coming to the tracks slowed down and gave me encouragement and actually expressed care: “Are you OK?” and “You can do it!” were most common and one woman actually came to a stop just past me and asked, “Do you need help?”

All these wonderful women helped me realize that I could indeed finish and despite one person’s poor sportsmanship, there were a thousand other supportive women who had the right mindset for this race: Empower one another above all else.

With that, I got back up and kept going. My lower back was hurting because of bruising and a cut and my arms were banged up too. My neck hurt from falling on my back and then another concern began. While I biked as best as I could while being shook up and in pain, my timing chip on my left leg got really tight. I looked down to see that my left ankle had begun to swell from the fall and it was noticeably bigger than my right ankle.

I contemplated stopping altogether after the crash and then considered it again after I realized my ankle was in bad shape and started to hurt more with each push on the pedal.

I pushed forward and honestly, much of it was anger toward the person that was out there racing with such disregard for the racers around her. I kept hoping nothing like this would happen to anyone else while she was still out there. I did not catch up to her on the bike course, and despite my ankle injury, I knew I would catch her on the run.

I struggled to finish the bike portion and came in at 1:04:49 and then took 1:13 in the second transition.

Now, came a true test, a 5K on one good foot.

My ankle, along with the side of my left leg throbbed with each foot strike and my arms ached with each swing. The pounding on the pavement sent shocks to my lower back and my neck, which were not faring well after the fall.

But once again, the encouragement around me, from other racers, was motivating me to tough it out. I wouldn’t be an Iron Girl if I didn’t at least try to finish at this point.

With this always being my strongest leg of the race, I wanted to prove to myself that someone else’s rude and inconsiderate actions would not bring me down or bring the empowering spirit of the race down too.

I actually spotted the racer that knocked me off my bike and I passed her with ease. I didn’t bump her or say anything at this point because that would be wrong of me to ruin someone else’s race for no good reason. I held true to my belief in good racing etiquette and good sportsmanship.

I powered through the run and complete the 5K course in 22:01. My run put me at the top of the field for my age group and this time also placed me seventh overall for the running portion of the race.

I completed the entire course in 1:44:18. It was not a PR from last year’s performance and it was not what I set out to accomplish. Besides missing out on a PR, I missed out on a shot at winning my age group ― a great possibility had the bike gone smoothly. But since I’ll never know, that idea can only be categorized as a “hypothetical” scenario.

I waited at the finish to see the infamous racer. I waited until she had caught her breath and had been done for a short while. I approached her and asked if someone crashed while she was on the tracks. The look of fear was in her eyes. I knew she couldn't believe that the person she sent falling had found her so long after it had happened. She gave me very little reasons that made sense and also the most important part was her disregard and the way she plainly did not care what happened.

A simple “sorry” or genuine interest in the well-being of someone she knocked over would have made a difference in this moment, but she chose to be set in her way of being irresponsible and inconsiderate and having no sportsmanship whatsoever.

I shared this information with officials, but also am sharing it with my blog readers so that you know how much it means to be a responsible racer and a considerate one at that.

I would hate to think "there's always one in the bunch," but maybe there is.

The spirit of racing stays strong and shines bright when everyone gets a shot at swimming, biking or running his or her best. It’s unfortunate that this happened and I can only hope she will learn a lesson and never act with such contempt when out on a race course again.

I am disheartened by this incident and even now as I type, I am still fuming over the “what ifs” and the way someone could be so rude.

I am now focusing on a sprained left tendon near my ankle with pain that is shooting up the side of my leg. I have a marathon in November (Philly) and a BQ under my belt… The race(s) must go on.

Until my next post, be beautiful and genuine ― in other words, be you.

Turning Philly TEAL this November

Since I became a runner almost 20 years ago, I have run many races including parochial and public school x-country and track races, and also some collegiate ones. And I have run numerous road races ranging from the distance of a 5K to a full marathon.

Each one has a memory. Each one has a “story” whether it’s about the weather, being sick, running with an injury or how awesome it was when I out-kicked someone after battling for a 3200-meter victory on the track.

Now, I am past the grade school, high school and brief collegiate racing days, and I have found that marathon running has brought me the most joy. Having mentioned that each race has a story ― you better believe that each marathon has a story ― a very, very long story! However, it’s that long story and those hours of running that have meant the most to me. I am out there against the elements, whatever they may be that day, but most importantly I am out there battling my own mental and physical strength.

In my very first blog post, I discussed my passion for helping spread ovarian cancer awareness. My drive and commitment for this awareness mission is only growing. Hope For Heather Ovarian Cancer Awareness of CNY asked me to be their media spokeswoman this past April and since then, it has been an honor to carry out this mission. I wore the ovarian cancer awareness color, teal, during my first Marathon Mission that I led to San Diego. That marathon was my third full marathon overall, but it was my first marathon where I had a cause wrapped around my heart.

After crossing the line in San Diego, I knew that my next marathon would also need to be TEAL because the awareness is only beginning and the research is still underway. My next TEAL Marathon Mission will take place in Philadelphia this November.

In Philly, I will carry out my mission and work so that more women are aware, conversations with doctors are happening and that research is properly funded. Recently, I spoke to the Hope For Heather executive director, Frieda Weeks, and we decided that as a group we can complete this mission. We will help more women know the symptoms of ovarian cancer. We will spread educational material so that women are aware of testing they can request. And someday, we will find a cure and have a prevention tool for this “silent killer” of a disease. While running a marathon has its painful moments, it’s nothing like knowing that women are going up against chemotherapy, radiation and more…and they’re beating it.

That’s why I am starting my Philly TEAL Marathon Mission now… Because every woman’s life saved is another grandmother, mother, sister, daughter, aunt, niece or friend that is given the opportunity to embrace every day with her loved ones.

You can join this mission by sponsoring this next marathon in support of the cause or in honor of a survivor or an angel. No matter what, you are making a difference.

Until my next post, be beautiful and genuine ― in other words, be you! 

Part 2: Running a marathon while injured

After running my first marathon injured, I was grateful to have run my second one healthy. These first two marathons were both Chicago Marathons. This course is full of notable buildings and historical neighborhoods. Although I grew up outside of this beautiful city and spent many summers visiting and doing the occasional sightseeing, running down the middle of these streets is an entirely different experience.

Because I ran the first one with thousands of painful steps, the second one was actually enjoyable. I was able to see and hear everything and that in itself made it worth it to come back and conquer Chicago properly.

On my way to my third full marathon, the Rock ‘N’ Roll San Diego Marathon, I finally ran my first half marathon. Yes, I did things a little backward, but for some reason this never bothered me. Having been a lifelong runner, there were times in my life where I have run more than 20 miles for different training purposes or charity benefits. This time, of course, I was running a full 26.2 miles in order to master the marathon distance.

Believe it or not, running the shorter distance (13.1 miles) actually worried more than running my first full marathon. I’m still not entirely sure why I was overcome by that feeling, however, it was soon swept into my memory once I ran the inaugural Syracuse Half Marathon this past March. My training partner and I were both running full marathons during the first weekend of June, so running a half in March was right on track with our goals. We were both preparing for substantially hilly courses and unknown factors as I would be running on the West Coast for the first time and she would be running overseas in Sweden, also for the first time. We did hill workouts and some tempo to prepare for the Syracuse Half, but we actually didn’t reach any pace work at that point. With that in mind, we were somewhat apprehensive to say our goals out loud!

Turns out, we handled the hilly spots on the Syracuse course quite well and we used the flat areas and occasional downhill to our advantage. I ran a 1:39:30, which was well under my goal. My training partner also ran a PR, well under 1:46. With that half in my back pocket, I knew I was ready for San Diego.

However, the unfortunate happened, again, less than seven weeks out from this marathon. I endured a senseless injury while not running… I stress “again” because my first marathon’s pre-race injury also happened while not running. (See previous blog for that fun story!)

I was heading into work on a Wednesday morning in mid-April to find myself carrying a few too many things while someone insisted on walking out of the door I was barely hanging on to for support. I slammed a metal hand-truck into the top of my right. I iced the area and figured it was only going to be a bruise, but of course that would make for a less stressful few weeks leading into training, wouldn’t it?

That evening’s run went from OK to terrible in just a few miles. By the time I finished, my right big toe’s joint was swollen and hurt with every step. Plus, the outside area of my right leg was in excruciating pain. It felt like my ligament was coming off my bone. Sounds lovely, I know…

That weekend I had a 16-miler on the calendar in order to prepare for my marathon. Looking ahead, I knew the rest of my training would either be awful or I would have to throw in the towel. The pain in my toe and my right leg (fibularis longo) was constant. As a sworn in and certified stubborn runner, I also knew I would not go to the doctor because she would most likely tell me to back off and think long term for this injury and the worth of the marathon.

However, as many of you know, I was fundraising for Hope For Heather Ovarian Cancer Awareness of CNY, as I will do for all future marathons. There was no way I was going to “back off” or quit. I was running for too many people beside myself. I have a great passion for the mission and I was running for the survivors, the supports and the angels. These injuries would not overcome any of this.

By the end of April, an option I would have never known about became the answer to my pain and my prayers. My friend and owner of Saunacuse, told me about infrared sauna therapy and how she had read many articles about how it is a great option for runners, especially marathon runners like me. I read the article she shared with me and I found others. I was so intrigued that I interviewed her for an article that we published in the magazine that I edit. It made for an excellent fit for our health and wellness issue. You can read that story here.

If you’ve never heard of infrared sauna therapy or are unsure of it, read up on it and try it. You have nothing to lose. And like me, I only gained back my strength and sanity to be sure I could run the marathon. Because of these results, I am there for a session at least every other week as I am in triathlon season now before I begin training for my next full marathon. (We’ll get into the cross-training benefits I enjoy from triathlons for my running on another day…)

With only three weeks left until my marathon, I did one 45-minute session each week before I left for California. After the first session, I had my final long run, a 22-miler. I ran the entire distance without an ounce of pain. How could this be?

It turns out the infrared sauna therapy was working. It was clearing my body of toxins and the light therapy also benefited my muscle tissues and my joints. (I use strong blue and strong yellow.)

I went into my final weeks of training pain-free and ran my best marathon yet. No matter the intense hills in San Diego and the unknown factors that awaited me, I ran it healthy and I enjoyed it. I led the TEAL mission for Hope For Heather with a crew cheering for me back in Syracuse and again, I enjoyed it! I crossed the line in 3:33:33. This time, I came to the line with the right speed training and with a healthy body. Once again, I PR’d from marathon to marathon.

This one is now the benchmark. It’s the benchmark for measuring my personal physical fitness and speed, and it’s the benchmark that I will use to help raise more money per mile for the next marathon.

Until my next post, be beautiful and genuine ― in other words, be you!

Part 1: Running a marathon while injured

Whether you’re training for something or not, enduring an injury is never fun. Unfortunately, I have had two experiences involving injury woes prior to running full marathons.

Photo: Farah Jadran in Chicago after completing her first full marathon.

On Oct. 9, 2011, I ran my first full marathon, the Chicago Marathon. While it was (and still is) a great experience because it was my first one, I ran it injured. Have you ever had someone step on your big toe’s nail with a high heel? I have… Twenty-two days out from my marathon the unthinkable happened. My nail on my left big toe was shattered. That was not even the worst part. 

The pain and constant bleeding of my left foot caused a compensation pain to move up my shin, to my knee and finally, my hip. I ran through the pain for the final weeks of training because I didn’t want to look back now, I was so close to the big day.

On the morning of the marathon, I woke up with a stiff left hip and shin, but also I was very fearful. Was I really going to run 26.2 miles when I could barely walk? Yes.

I had spent more than three months training for this race, so there was no way around it, but running through it. I managed to make it through every mile although the pain was increasing with every step. Each stride had a sharp pain and every foot strike was harder than the last. No matter what, I started to remember how I had not been able to run for years prior due to a bout with a cancer. Recovering from surgery and therapy was tough, but this was something that I had wanted for many years. And being in the moment, I was not going to let it pass me by.

I managed to run the entire marathon. I had not planned on walking but stopping had crossed my mind numerous times because of my injuries. However, I also knew that if I stopped, starting up again would be very painful!

I finished this marathon in 3:51:40. I finished 6,691 out of 35,755 runners and I was 1,463 out of 15,471 women. I was thrilled to finish in this fashion when I wasn't sure I would finish the entire time.

It’s a beautiful feeling to know that you can overcome something that seems cut and dry. In simple terms, I should not have been able to even complete half the marathon. And while it’s been said too many times and might sound overdone, your mind is stronger than your body, it is true. But in this case, my heart and soul also are stronger than my body. That strength is still true to this day.

The following year, I ran the 2012 Chicago Marathon and I ran it uninjured. I trained to run and finish comfortably, so there were no speed workouts or major training plans during my 17 weeks of training. No matter, I ran a 3:44:04. Any runner knows that running a PR without focused training means you’re capable of even faster times.

More on marathon No. 3 and running my first half-marathon are yet to come…

Until my next post, be beautiful and genuine ― in other words, be you!

Don't you dare 'Miss Represent' me

Almost a year ago, I joined the pledge to represent women and girls. With this movement, I was encouraged to represent the change I would like to see in the treatment of women and girls and how we’re regarded by society ― but most importantly, how we’re regarded by the media.

As a member of the media, I have taken it upon myself to fully represent women in a positive light because it shouldn't be any other way. It’s 2013 for God’s sake!

If you are serious about this international movement too, I highly suggest that you watch the documentary film, “Miss Representation,” because it will shock you, change you, teach you and inspire you. I have watched the film three times now and every time I take away something new. 

And although I get a little angrier at the negativity opposing women and the over-sexualization of women in our society ― it only motivates me to further my personal mission.

I take action daily by making simple choices on how I carry myself and how I represent women, no matter the occasion. This movement starts with me and it starts with every girl and woman in every country. If it’s a woman facing domestic abuse, sexual harassment in the workplace or a woman facing physical mutilation simply because she is a woman…it is all about how we come together and stand up for ourselves.

I have heard about and read too many stories about women being killed for sticking up for their natural human rights, not their gender, but their human rights!

For now, I ask you (women and men) to be conscious of your everyday decisions and actions. Women: Be conscious of your appearance and mannerisms, how do you want to be regarded? Men: Think about thoughts, comments or views you might have about women in general ― are they right or are they wrong?

I have stopped hoping and have started knowing that someday, sooner than later, we will live in a  world where a woman can hold any professional position without it being “the first” anymore and a world where scantily clad women are not shown running around on TV ads to sell products ranging from beer to potato chips to cars and men’s cologne.

You also can join the conversation on Twitter, just like I have. Take action daily and tweet with the hash tag: #MissRep. Follow the official Twitter handle for the documentary and the pledge at @RepresentPledge.

Until my next post, be beautiful and genuine ― in other words, be you!

Dreaming big because I can

Over the last few weeks, I have not only come across numerous incredible women of inspiration, but also I have picked up my own “big” ideas. It’s a wonderful feeling when you’re overcome by inspiration. When the fire inside me starts to get hot, I simply cannot contain a smile at times.

On Friday, June 14, I had the great pleasure of attending and speaking at the New York State ACE Women’s Network Conference at Cornell University. More than 100 women leaders in the state’s higher education system gathered. I met so many women that have now become new connections in my career. Plus, I was able to connect several women with other contacts. That feeling of accomplishment in your own network is great. And then helping another strong woman expand her network, well, that’s just a bonus!

During the conference I gave a presentation on “The Power of an Effective Network”― which turned out to be very useful and much-needed for several attendees. The presentation got women moving forward and expanding their own networks whether it was in a professional effort or to join a community movement. No matter what, it was a beautiful thing to see. Each woman realized what her main needs and goals are in her respected network. From there, everyone left the presentation with a new perspective on what she wanted out of her future networking efforts. After all, your network is what you make of it!

Lastly, I also was fortunate enough to hear some incredible speeches on the main floor. For those that know me, I love to dream big and I do this because there’s no time to waste.

With this most recent dream that I have formulating in my mind comes a lot of work and much motivation. The drive I feel for this dream is great. I feel so strongly about this adventure because I know it is needed in the Central New York community. However, on an even larger level of dreams, I know this movement is needed on a state level and a national level.

Someday, I am not sure when, this movement will become the norm. Because I want to bring this dream to life, I won’t divulge many more details. But know this, this dream is the beginning of furthering the advancement of women and empowering women in a way that needs to become an everyday circumstance.

Overall, this dream was sparked while at the NYS ACE Women’s Network Conference. What will spark your next dream?

Until my next post, be beautiful and genuine ― in other words, be you!

I saved his life, so he could save mine

This will be the first of many posts about my beloved dog, my late dog, Rock, a rescue pup I adopted with hope to give him a happy life from age 9 and so on.

Rock’s life ended the day he was sure mine would not end. He made sure I was protected at all times, but most of all he did not let anything or anyone hurt me the day he went down fighting.

Photo by Ami Olson

At approximately 4:40 p.m. Thursday, Aug. 11, 2011, Rock was attacked and killed by a large pit bull running loose on the Syracuse’s East Side. Rock, a Rottweiler, was 12 years old and already fighting age-related ailments in his back, a knee and a hip.

Rock was smelling some flower bushes in my next-door neighbor’s yard when the loose dog started a full-out brawl in the street that lasted for about 25 minutes. After lunging at me, the dog turned its attention to Rock, who, in his honor, risked his own life to save mine.

I never left Rock’s side once the fight began, which prohibited me from calling 911.

Numerous bystanders watched, but my neighbor Andy jumped in after a few minutes to help me. We tried using large pieces of wood to pry the dog’s jaw open to release Rock’s neck from its grip. Instead, the dog broke off two pieces of wood in its mouth ― nothing was working.

During this fight I noticed two bystanders dialing 911 and yelling to me to ask, “Do you know whose dog that is?” No one, among the dozen or more onlookers said they knew the dog’s owner.

Finally, Andy got the idea to use a golf club for the dog to bite down on. When he told me to get away, I was in shock ― the fight was actually over? I turned around and finally saw a black-and-white parked in front of my house.

I held Rock’s chest up as I ran away from the other dog and into my house. His legs were so badly mangled he couldn't walk. I rushed as the dog escaped Andy's efforts and chased me up my front stairs. I was trapped in my home until Syracuse Police deemed it safe enough for an officer to unlock my car for me and give me a green light on when it was safe to exit my home with Rock in my arms.

Because this was the first time someone has called 911 on my behalf, I was hoping to see a brigade arrive and put an end to the horror. I was disappointed. It felt like the response time was too long for the area of the city I reside in and once officers, EMS and fire personnel were on scene, I didn't see what I would consider a proactive response to the situation at hand.

About two weeks later, I sat down with Syracuse Police Chief Frank Fowler and Deputy Chief Rebecca Thompson, this is what I learned: The first 911 call was received by the county’s dispatcher at 4:50 p.m. (10 minutes into the fight) and there were three officers available, one of which was the Transport Vehicle, a car that patrols the entire city of Syracuse. The car was dispatched at 4:57 p.m. (17 minutes into the fight) and arrived at 5:02 p.m. (22 minutes into the fight). It is clear that every moment counted. 

Rock was so badly injured that I was left with few choices when I finally got him to the aid of emergency veterinary services… I laid him to rest.

I don't blame anyone who attempted to help us or even the dog that attacked us. I blame the owner of this dog ― someone who truly does not care about animals to bring them up in a loving way. I feel sorrow for animals that are abused, neglected or trained in a negative manner ― many suffer and never have peace in their lives.

This is not “the end” to this story as there were court hearings to follow, but I will share that on another day. This heartbreaking day has made me stronger, but also more grateful for what I have since I saved Rock’s life…so he could save mine. Not a day goes by that I don't think about this brave pup. He will forever be the Rock in my heart.

Until my next post, be beautiful and genuine ― in other words, be you.

The first day: Far, far away... By Farah

Photo: Cindy Bell/Styling: Antonietta Moritz

For my first post on my new blog, "Far, far away... By Farah" ― I want to share some thoughts about my most recent Marathon Mission experience ― the Rock 'N' Roll San Diego Marathon on June 2.

As you follow my blog and read along, you will notice that there will be writing many posts about running, but especially marathon running. I have developed a great respect for the distance (26.2 miles) through the training it requires. Also, the post-race feelings of accomplishment and euphoria have become two of my favorite things in the world.

During this quest to improve upon my two previous marathon times: Chicago 2011 - 3:51:40 and Chicago 2012 - 3:44:04; I had an added mission for this race. (I will get into those two other marathon experiences on another day.)

I was delighted by the community’s support. I ended up completing the San Diego Marathon (26.2 miles of hilly passion!) with a new personal best (3:33:33) and I reached a fundraising total of more than the original goal! Every time my legs wanted me to quit — I thought of all the sponsors, the survivors and the angels, in which I was running for.

Along the course, I was handing out some teal ribbons and awareness cards. Plus, some runners around me asked about the messages on my race bibs and my race top. I felt honored to share my knowledge on the disease so that others became aware. What you can cover in conversation over 26.2 miles will amaze any non-runner.

Channeling the strength of a woman who was fighting many rounds of chemotherapy made the long climb on some of those California hills seem like nothing compared to her battle. And it was nothing, my pain was fleeting and her strength is unending. I crossed the line with so much hope, pride and passion.

My next Marathon Mission will take place on Nov. 17 at the Philadelphia Marathon, where I will be spreading awareness, raising funds and turning Philly a bright shade of TEAL for ovarian cancer awareness!

Until my next post, be beautiful and genuine ― in other words, be you!