Gramma

I’m going to preface this post with a statement:

I don’t believe in psychics or those people on TV who communicate with your loved ones from beyond. I am completely sane. Mostly.

My Grandmother was a fabulous artist, a hilarious friend, a wonderful baker -- the epitome of a Gramma. Her blonde hair had turned white by the time I knew her, but it fell so beautifully around her face and framed her rosy cheeks and charming smile flawlessly. She loved ice cream and taught me, “there’s always room for ice cream, it melts in your throat and just slides around the sides”. She made these peaches with cinnamon. I don’t even need to elaborate for this. She made the best peaches.We read until we fell asleep, she taught me to paint (I probably needed more lessons), and taught me to love. She taught me that animals are family, unless they are food, and that you need to use manners at the dinner table when you eat the animals. She took me to tea once. Only once. I didn’t use good manners... She taught me that a trip to Nordstrom can cure anything from heartbreak to boredom. She taught me that no one likes 'hussies'. She taught me all the important things in life. She was the most perfect human on God’s green earth.

Gramma passed away eleven years ago. I had the pleasure of being her only grand daughter until I was in seventh grade. Seventh grade was a tough year for many reasons. (mostly because no one likes middle schoolers, and even worse, middle schools don’t like themselves or others. but that could be a whole different post, so let’s leave it at that...) Seventh grade was the first time I experienced losing a loved one. Being young and experiencing the death of a family member is terrifying. It was the first time I went to a funeral, the first time I saw my whole family mourning, and the first time I saw my dad cry. If you have ever seen your dad cry, you get this. It is heartbreaking. I lost my beloved grandmother and I was scared that death was going to be a new friend.

I think about her often. I think about what she’s doing in heaven. I think about how proud she would be of her son. I think about her reading books and snoring before reaching the end. I think about all the angels who get the honor of playing cards with her every day. Damn, they are lucky.

I hadn’t thought about Gramma in a week or so when I had a dream last night. In my dream, I was cold, I was wet, I was tired. I was finishing the Portland Marathon and Portland was a ghost town. No announcer, no crowd, no other racers -- this place was absent of life. As I approached the finish line, I saw someone standing directly in front of me on the other side of the partially deflated FINISH Arc de Triomphe. This person was surrounded by fog and was hard to make out. I rubbed the sweat out of my eyes and there was Gramma. She was wearing a lavender dress (stunning, by the way) and her hair was snowy and glowing. She glistened and glittered. She stood there and opened her arms for me to run right in. Instantly, her scent of honey poured over me. This was the most surreal dream I have ever experienced. We embraced for what seemed like forever, only because I was scared to let go. I was scared to lose her again in my dream. I woke up and knew: Gramma was there.

Today, I completed my last long run before my marathon next weekend. Let me say that one more time: I completed my last long run before Portland. That makes me feel good to say and to write and to say again. As I approached the final bend of my 8.7 mile run, I felt her again. A glittering shiver fell down my spine and then slowly crawled back up. I felt her warmth cradle my body. I ran faster and faster. When I passed the post signifying the end of my run, I was sprinting faster than I ever have, tears were streaming down my face and I couldn’t even breathe. Once again I knew: she was there.

I can't wait to see you at the finish line, Gramma.

6 days to Portland. 

Commencement

So, as it turns out, this blog post will have nothing to do with running. Sorry. I am already slacking... However, I am a first year teacher and I was chosen to speak at graduation for my first ever graduating class - take a gander:

 

 

Class of 2013,

 
 

My name is Rachel Raine, I taught English to many of you at Mount Tahoma High School, and I have been selected by you, the senior class, to be teacher of the year. No one told me until two days ago that honor came with a speaking position. So, thanks for that.

For those of you who want to instagram a picture of me talking, I look best with the rise filter, and make sure you catch me on my good side. For those of you who still don’t know who I am and think I am a student, I am now starting to think I might be as well… Mr. Cooper gave me a tardy pass on my way in. (wait)

Before I begin my semi-long, semi-rehearsed, and moderately-boring ‘words of wisdom’ speech, I want you to complete one last assignment for me. Please stand up, turn around, and face those people behind you. (wait)

Everyone in the stands today has played a crucial role in your success, whether you believe it or not. Please acknowledge the importance of your friends, family, guardians, and neighbors. Give them a round of applause, and then a hug after the ceremony, and maybe buy them a house one day. They deserve it. (wait)

Please be seated.

Without those people backing you up, you wouldn’t be sitting here today. And that is something I know for sure. You see, I was in your seat, literally, right in that 3^rd row, on the left, “hey Anna, that was my seat”, 5 years ago. I listened to people talk about chasing dreams and catching stars. I sat here while someone way older than me told me I could be anything I wanted.

 That was all good, I liked it. I honestly thought I wanted to hear that. My confidence, along with my ego, was blown up. I remember thinking, I am THE Rachel Raine, class of 2008, and I am the coolest, smartest, most perfect human there is.

 But you see, tomorrow will come. You meet people who know nothing about you. These people won’t care what you wore to prom, whether or not you were wearing the new Jordans, what ASAP Rocky song was blaring through your beats headphones, or who you dated. Now is your chance to start from scratch. I’m truly sorry if you actually thought my vocab quiz last week, that tardy pass you ‘lost’, or the drama in the hallways was important – because it wasn’t. What’s important is that you take your diploma and begin now.

I challenge you to start fresh; to begin to learn things about yourself and others through a new pair of glasses.

We all shared in some good times at Mount Tahoma – we had T-bird day and dances. We laughed a lot. We shared with each other some of our fears and made plans to conquer those.

But not everything was peachy. High school sucked some days, am I right? Raise your hand if you were ever hurt, if you were ever suspended, if you ever did something you regret. Raise your hand if you ever weren’t happy with a grade, if you said something you didn’t mean, or if you cheated on a reading comprehension test for Things Fall Apart… 5^th period, that one’s for you.

After today, no one will know any of that. You have a chance of a lifetime knocking on the door.

After today, I challenge you to be a person your parents would be proud to see. I challenge you to branch out, to meet new friends, to start a new hobby, to fall in love, to travel, to see things, to get more education. But most of all I challenge you to challenge yourself – because success doesn’t come to those who wait, success comes to those who never give up on themselves.

When I came here in January, all of you challenged me to be a better person, a better mentor, and a better teacher. All of you lit a fire inside of me. And I hope by now there is a fire burning inside of you – symbolizing a challenge – waiting to be met.

 Thank you for not texting too much throughout this and congratulations on a job well done. Class of 2013, you actually did this!

Cheers, runners. Time to grab the shoes and challenge yourself. I will if you do.

So.... Why do you run?

Here's the thing - I'm average. 

I am a 22 year old, white female with no great skill. I don't surf, or cook, or sing, or act, and I haven't spent time 'finding myself' in a far away land. I mean sure, I have accomplished some things. I am a college graduate from Washington State University. They gave me an extra big piece of paper so I know it's real. I have my teaching certificate, and with that, I teach high school. Every day I wake up, I go to work, I come home, I make my lunch for the next day, I watch trashy TV, and then I go to bed. 

Now, probably three times a week, I break this routine... This break in the routine involves my golden retriever, a leash, and a pair of shoes. We both hit the road, get yelled at by old people who appear far too senile to be yelling, and we run four miles. That's it. Four miles. Maybe to someone who doesn't work out, four miles may sound hard. But it really is only marginally harder than driving four miles. If driving four miles is tough for you, you should probably see someone about that.

"So.... why do you run?" That's the question most runners have been faced with at one point. This question seems like an awkward first date question to me, but trust me, it happens. And almost immediately I can respond. Most runners will tell you about the 'high' they get, or the money they raise, or the challenge they face on a daily basis when hitting a new PR. But for me, it's more simple than that - I run for the swimsuit I bought in February.

This isn't just any swimsuit. This swimsuit is the most perfect collaboration of spandex and cotton this world has ever seen. It is the lululemon Coastal Om bikini and it also happened to be 54 dollars...... for the top. Another 54 for the bottom. Usually I try not to strain myself by doing mental math, but here it is: 108 dollars. I'm pretty sure there is less than a half of a yard of fabric in total. So, if we are doing some conversions, or fractions, or..... (don't worry, I teach English), I'm pretty sure this is more expensive than gold.

This swimsuit sounds perfect, doesn't it? But, you see, very up-hill has a down-hill, and here it is: The swimmy is a little tight. Ok, ok, it gives me a, dare I say it, ....muffin top.... When I run, I run to take a bite out of that muffin, and allow the swimmy to lay a little nicer across the rear. 

So today I ran. How far? Four miles, yes, you're right. Paying attention - great! But today I was running for another reason. This reason was bigger than the swimsuit (did I really just make my own fat joke?). I was running to train for the 2013 Portland Marathon. Just this morning, I signed up. My college roommate, Jordan, and I, are going to run all of 26.2 miles through beautiful Portland on October 6. While I was running this morning, I felt something inside me, and it could have been last night's dinner, but I think it was inspiration. I felt inspired to run for something more important than clothes, and that felt great. 

So what am I running for now? I'm running to prove to myself that I can.



132 days until Portland