Full-on Fall Insanity

May has almost drawn to a close and Memorial Day is upon us (bathing suits...oh no!!!). I understand that for most (sane) people, this means that summer is here. For me, it means the start of training season. I know, I know; you're thinking "Didn't you just finish training for something?" The answer is yes; the NYC Half Marathon, which I ran in 1:57:17 after dancing in shows the two preceding nights. That's not too bad, right? Well.....that's over now.

So, what's on tap? Plenty. Since I ran two full marathons last year, I decided that's not a bad number to stick with for this year. This year's challenge, however, is that I am going to run both of those marathons within four weeks of one another. (I never claimed to be sane.) This year, I am running the Chicago Marathon on 10/10/10 (cool, right?) and the New York City Marathon on 11/7/10.

Why, why, why would I do that?! As you all know, these are the two places that are nearest and dearest to my heart. As you know, I share the love with two charities. I also have additional reasons for running both races, and here they are.

Chicago
I absolutely loved running Chicago last year and had to return this year: 1) to smash my time from last year; 2) it's a supercool date for an event and hopefully there'll be some supercool associated swag; 3) to kick it with my crazy friends who are also running 10/10/10; and 4) to smash my time from last year. Did I mention smashing my time from last year? Yeah. It's a really flat and fast course, and I'll be trained and ready to kill it in October.

As was the case last year, I am running Chicago for the Ronald McDonald House Charities. They love their runners so much that they even covered the (not cheap) entry fee for anyone who has raced for them before. Sweet!! As you know, last year I ran this one for Zoe whose family has used the services of RMHC while she was getting treatment. This year is no different. Show them some love and help me cross that line in Chicago by donating to my page at: http://www.active.com/donate/RMHC2010/kellyk

New York
What can I say? I've been here for a little over a decade (yikes!) now, and I love this city. Plus I ran nine races and volunteered for one with New York Road Runners and got automatic entry into the Marathon. This is a good thing because last year I tried to get in through the lottery. That didn't work out so well. But, I spectated the hell out of it!!!

So, this will be my first time running the awesome and inspiring New York City Marathon!! I will NOT be racing this one for time (I say now) but to have fun with those crazy running friends (many of whom are also running Chicago) and get some hometown love from my people in NYC! And by hometown love, I mean that someone can carry me home after the race.

Of course, I am running this one for the cult of purple: Team in Training. I am also a mentor and the Brooklyn team's social captain for the season. So, NYCers, you know you like crashing our post-run social events anyway, so show us some love and donate for the NYC Marathon at http://pages.teamintraining.org/nyc/nyc10/kkocinski

Chicago or NYC: which side are you on?! Prove it. Let the fundraising wars begin!!
Chicago: http://www.active.com/donate/RMHC2010/kellyk
NYC: http://pages.teamintraining.org/nyc/nyc10/kkocinski

There will be an honor roll with a city designation on this blog. There WILL be kick-ass post-race parties in both locations. There will be blood...or at least lost toenails. Stay tuned...

Moving, Baseball, and Anxiety

The last time I wrote, my sister still lived in Raleigh. She no longer does (that includes bro-in-law too). It was a long weekend of moving, but we all survived. More than that, we all laughed. A lot. It's amazing to me that some families just can't get it together and get along because, for me, even when the task is daunting, or stressful, or dreaded, in the same way K and P did, I ask for the help of my family. They are the people who mean the most to me even though I am 867 miles away from them. Without going off on too much of a tangent, I will simply say that it gets more difficult to leave home every time it's time to return to my city.

A long, long drive was followed by a move-in and a Saturday of catching up over some drinks (with friends for a birthday, with my past, with their new neighbors, and most importantly, one-on-one with my sister- even though we had already spent 4 days together). Sunday was Easter. Dad and I cooked; this is time that I savor, my favorite time, in the kitchen with my family. As someone from a "food is love" culture, I take a lot of this with me in my life here- my love of hosting parties and dinners, of giving- advice, rides, assistance- sometimes to my own detriment, of singing and dancing around the aisles in the grocery store. That Easter dinner was special- shrouded in the time and adventure we had all just shared together, and the food tasted that much better knowing that this year so much more than just a few hours had gone into its preparation.

Monday. Super duper bonus for all the effort of the move, all the anxiety of being away for nearly a week from my new business. White. Sox. Opening. Day. AND it came with super sweet parking and tailgating!! The Sox won. Buerhle made history (and a sweet play). I had a blast with my friends. Then, it was time to head back to NYC.

And so, it is baseball season at last. I've been to three games already, and April isn't even over yet. My practice is going well- I am busy; I am invested; I am engaged. I am running and boxing and generally being a gym rat. I have reconnected with old friends. I have made new friends. I am helping others.....Still, I am waiting. I am in limbo. I doubt my worth and my abilities. I wonder what exactly I think I'm doing. And, yes, there is something that I am actually waiting for (a call about a job that I really, really, really want), something to which I have somehow managed to link my validity as a lawyer and a person, and with each hour that passes, a little more doubt manages to creep in and make me question that instinct that I talked about not so many posts ago. Didn't I tell myself to follow that voice? Didn't I convince you (are you out there?) that it was always right? Now that it's wavering, maybe what it's telling me is that it's time to sit down and think about what I want....

Where do i want to be for the next 5 years? What really makes me happy? What happens if I don't get this job? Does that affect any of the other questions? Do I have the strength to face the choices I need to make to answer all of these questions? While I am battling all of these, I will most certainly be running, boxing, and watching a lot of baseball. See ya out there.

Oh boy!

The race on Sunday went well. Half-marathon, good weather, shutting down the streets of NYC? Pretty good time to be running. I didn't PR, but I did run a 1:57. I'm okay with that because...

I had shows this weekend too. That was a really good time. I had a blast working with this group and hope to continue working with them. I also saw my first group of mentees cross the finish line (not literally- there was too much congestion at the finish line) and THAT has been awesome. Hopefully I will be back mentoring for the fall season as well.

Hopefully, a lot of things will be happening. Spring is in bloom and things are indeed looking up. My current struggle is getting my work for current clients done while trying to find new clients out there. I have more to say but not a lot of shape o my thoughts. I was just totally due for a post and, while alternating between calm and panic, terror and, well, terror, I thought I'd get some of that out there.

Bossy Boots

Since I started doing this solo practice thing, I have been really hard on myself. My return to this very blog is a testament to this. I've been wondering whether I am good enough or smart enough or disciplined enough to pull this whole thing off, as if it's some coup d'etat. To hear my lawyer friends speak of it, apparently it is a coup d'etat of sorts. "Brave" is word that has been bandied about like it was a tennis ball at the US Open. Clearly, I haven't FELT very brave. If anything, I have felt the opposite lately. Quite often.

I have spent a lot of time in my own head and here in this airspace questioning my voice, the very thing that led me to this decision in the first place. My voice has been something that I have always followed, from the time it told me that I would go to college on the East Coast at the age of 6 to it kicking me out of bed this morning to keep my newest resolution- no television during the day at all now that the Olympics are over- and drag my sleepy butt to yoga. (Why was I so tired? Well, I had stayed up late watching the Monday evening programs I DVR'ed last night because i knew that they couldn't be viewed on my lunch break today.) Along with this resolution was also the companion resolution to stop bullying my voice and just let it find its way again, dammit.

I got up and onto the train to make it to yoga class where I found myself, for the second time in a week, in the middle of what I refer to as "bossy boots" yoga instruction. "Set up the mats this way- no, closer together." "If I don't hear you all breathing together, we are not moving on until I do." Needless to say, this is not my cup of tea. I'm all for discipline, as everyone knows, but if yoga is about bullying, why not just take a kickboxing class. I go to yoga to quiet my discontent and competitiveness, not intensify it and cause me to resent my fellow yogis because SOMEone can't effing breathe correctly. I mean, isn't it called practie for a reason?! So, there I was, already seething before the class started and wondering why I had listened to my stupid voice telling me to roll out of my nice warm bed full of nice warm sleeping animals and drag myself through the decided not calming subway ride to get here for a bit of quiet. I tried to calm my mind and tell myself that there was a purpose to this. And then, the minute class started, it was right there. I'm not talking about some blue spirit or zenlike transcendent state; I'm talking about music. The first song that came on was "My Sweet Lord," the very song that I have been trying to write a legal blog post about for the past several weeks. The attempt has been stilted and painful, halting and full of doubt. It's like a wrestling match with my personal self and my professional self to get the tone , to not speak too casually, and, well, to get the damn thing right. And my spirit has taken a few punches in the process.

And then it occurred to me: I have been very lazy and undisciplined in my writing habits. No wonder I am nervous about the piece or any writing, for that matter. I'm out of practice. There are huge chunks of my life in NYC that are now missing because I got out of practice with journaling and chronicling. When i was in college, when I was traveling Europe, when life felt more free and easy, I used to write in my journal at the end of every day or at most, every other day. I used to take the time to write down my impressions and when I felt like putting together something bigger or more formal or "presentable," I would look back at these entries to refresh my recollection. Writing sort of fell by the wayside right around the time I started seriously considering law school and has drastically deteriorated since. Sure, there are times when I have sworn that I would resume, like here on the blog- a portable journal that i wouldn't have to carry around- or taking the time to pick out new journals to write in but being more concerned with the thing itself than how it got filled.

So I am done with promises. I can only ask for strength and guidance to follow through with my intention to take up the practice (see, there is that word again) of writing, not in order to coax my voice out- it's still there and it's still strong- but to remind myself what the voice says. To work on it like a newspaper editor works, diligently proofing but retaining the underlying tone, spirit and weight of the words. In short, adding writing back to my "Just Do It" list.

Yoga Before Running and Spin

because I am calm; I am calm. DAMMIT, I AM CALM!!!

And, it's totally fine that my next race is 4 weeks away and I totally shitcanned the 10 miler on Sunday...that's just because I was worn out.

And, it's also totally fine that I currently have the amazing skin of a 15-year old on a pizza and cheetos diet; I was travelling, and my body's out of whack.

Oh, and, the caffeine will totally kick in at some point today. It's just the rain, not the fact that my schedule is like Angelina Jolie looking for orphans in a war-ravaged nation.

Yoga beofre Running and Spin tonight, because I'm totally calm.

What the....?!

It's been a year. I have launched my new law practice out in the world and, apart from being utterly paralyzed by fear at times, and struggling to move forward, I am attempting to write a professional blog. The post I am working on has been in my head for about a month now, and as I look at it, and write and rewrite and rewrite again, I am consistenetly amazed that I once felt comfortable in my writing and in my voice. Not only was I a literature major, I have done a lot of creative writing , can pen a killer email, and well, there's this thing, too, of course.

But, there in the context of "profession" and "professional" in said profession, I'm still trying to find my voice- one that can really do justice to my passion and knowledge in my practice area but also stays true to who I am as a person. Instead, all I can think, staring at my laptop screen, an old friend who has seen better days, indeed, is that law has either 1) left me completely devoid of the ability to write, or 2) taken away any illusion I may have had that I possessed any sort of ability from the start.

And, so, I come back here, to my training-wheel blog, to find comfort and gain confidence, to write the personal side of getting this thing up and running, while running. and dancing. and teaching. and being me. I'm back here because this is where I can perhaps get some of those paralyzing thoughts and fears out of me, so the way is clear for professional me to soar. Or at least do more than whimper.

Lots of Running News, and the Wall of Fame!

Lots of running, not so much writing- I know, I know. Well, here's some of the latest:

I did, in fact, run 2 half-marathons in two weeks. The second one, in the Bronx, earned me a new PR of 1:55:06- yay! It feels good to be working hard and seeing it pay off (a little, anyway). Then, back to one hard week of running, which ended with my very own Valentine's run of 18 miles. It was sunny and I woke up early, knowing I had to finish, shower and get to rehearsal afterwards. My teammates were starting later and heading on a flat run to Coney Island and the boardwalk, but I knew I had to map a big loop to get me home in time. So, I started...
18 plus miles, 4 bridges, 3 boroughs, 2 great country crooners (Dwight Yoakam and Lyle Lovett) and countless smiles and waves later, I was home again, in the shower and out to rehearsal. Click here to see my route:
http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?hl=en&ie=UTF8&msa=0&ll=40.640009,-73.78006&spn=0.461636,0.878906&z=10&msid=116797349652229055058.0004639902854f9bc1349

There was something so serene about running this route on Valentine's Day. It was like my own little Valentine to the city that I love so much. The views from the bridges, the water-front path, Central Park, the neighborhoods I passed and the life that was happening in each of them, and the older woman who, at nearly the start of the run, in Polish Greenpoint, yeller "Run a mile for me!" (taking me back to my pre-running days in Poland where we encountered a marathon that ended near a brewery and a reluctant old woman who saw us cheering on runners and later joined us with English that she had to think about for awhile before saying it aloud. The result: "Ok-ay, ba-by!") With the stress of living and working here in the day-to-day, it's easy to lose sight of all this city has to offer and all it has given me. And, on that Saturday morning, it gave me even more- NYC did, in fact, decide to be my Valentine as well. All in all, it was a long damn run- my longest to date. And while I was a little reluctant to be out there on my own, it gave me exactly what I needed- one of the best damn runs I have ever had.

After another, slightly easier week of running, I found myself in what I now consider my "Home"
park- Prospect for a Saturday morning race. It was chilly and a bit windy, but I ran it fast enough to move up a corral group (meaning that I start closer to the front of the pack and don't waste energy early in the race trying to get around slower runners). So, now I hang with the people whose min/mile times start with a "7." YAY!!! This is was a goal that I set back in December and I was really proud to see that goal realized.

After the race, I fought BQE traffic back home and showered in time to turn around and get out the door to dance class. It felt especially freeing and joyous to be able to dance after that race for some reason. Perhaps it's the news of starting some ballroom classes in addition to technical classes. Or that a friend and fellow dancer is creating a solo for me, to premiere in May. Or that everything that makes me feel happy- running, dancing, yoga, Physique class- is physical and perhaps taking the place of what's lacking elsewhere. That's something that I have to figure out, probably while running (lol).

I am now 60 days out from the Nashville marathon. And you can still help!! You probably got here through my fundraising page, so go back and click to donate!! Every little bit helps, so please, please give what you can and help me get to Nashville! Thanks again!

xoxo


Wall of Fame!!
A huge shout out to my Nashville Donors to Date!!! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You all really do Rock..or two-step...it IS a Country Music Marathon, after all! Get your name on the wall today!

Bob Early- and his friends from BP!!!
Forever Man
Michael Bell
Ciaran D'Arcy
Marty Ambos
Jennifer King
Mary Anthony
Kara and Patrick Curtis
Kate Nelson
John Londono
Shaun Smith
marc wolfe
Jimmy Ho
Karl France
Meaghan Atkinson
Demian Ordway
Peter Guy
Jeff Klein
James Comtois
Christopher Woodrell
Sherri Protze
Andrea Pastorella
Stutard Beerlicker
Tami Wallenstein
Judes

Lessons from the Cold

Hi all!

First, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU to everyone who has donated so far to my Team in Training marathon effort. I can't get there without those dollars (for a great cause, of course- whose life has NOT been affected by cancer in some way?!) If you haven't contributed yet, I am trying to do a push right now to get to the half-way point of $1900 by February 11th-my recommitment date (the date you have to put up or shut up in terms of your fundraising!). You can make your dollars go even further if your company has a matching gift program! Let me know if you need more info on that...

On Sunday morning, I ran the first race of the Continental Airlines Grand Prix series- a half-marathon in each of the 5 boroughs. The kick-off half-marathon was the Manhattan event, in Central Park. It was 15 degrees out. The subways were the usual weekend racket: re-routings, running in sections, etc., etc. Still 5,000 crazy people (you're allowed to call people crazy if you are part of the group you're describing...oh, who am I kidding- I call people crazy -and that's the nice extreme- all the time) toed the line and ran the loops of the park. I was not convinced that I had it in me. I wasn't racing this race; rather, I was using it as a gauge to test out the timing of my new hydration and fueling plan and getting the week's miles under my belt. plus, getting the memory of my last half out of my head. And I succeeded, mostly. My only goal was to come in under 2 hours, even if by a second. I ran a very conservative race pace and came in at 1:59:21.
The hydration test run had one additional component that I hadn't really anticipated, though. Um, when it's 15 degrees out and you're carrying your own water, you forget it's 15 degrees because you are nice and toasty, what with the 13 miles to run and all. The water you're carrying, however, is not nice and toasty. In fact, it's frozen. That's right, it's can-not-possibly-drink-from- this-bottle-because-ice-crystals-have-formed-and-the-water-is-now-chunky-and-not-going-through-that-tiny-spout frozen. Awesome. The water at the fluid stations were the same way. You had to squeeze the cup to crack the ice layer on top to get to the water below it, which is fine, except now there's water on your running clothes that quickly turns to more ice crystals. We all looked like Mr. Freeze out there. But, we had some fun....several of my teammates ran PR's, I suspect because they were hoping to make it home before their fingers fell off from frostbite.

For me, yesterday's race was exactly 3 months until I toe the line in Nashville, where it will certainly NOT be 15 degrees at race time. But the best thing I accomplished yesterday was overcoming my biggest hurdle- not the weather, but myself. It was not my fastest race but it was my most thoughtful one so far. I controlled the race. I climbed the hills without swearing (too much) and felt good and strong doing it. Oh, and I called to reserve my spot in tonight's super popular spin class while I was somewhere between miles 3 and 4. It sells out quickly and 10am would have been too late to get a spot in the class- a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. Besides, I am sure that in addition to me sharing it with you, some other runners got to share it with their friends...."you'll never believe what this girl did during the race...she called and booked her next workout!" then again, runners WOULD believe it. Plus, spin helps me think about my leg turn-over, especially in the hills!

I'm still a long way from being the best runner I can be, I know, but I'm sure having fun (and sometimes, apparently, fun feels like torture) figuring it out. Thanks for coming along for the ride, er, miles!