Sunday, September 07, 2014

A Lasting Impact: The Book Edition

For whatever reason, I have recently been thinking of different pieces of creativity - books, music, art, television, movies - that have touched my life in some way or another.  As I was thinking of these various items and making lists in my head, it occurred to me that I should sit down and write about them.  I'm always thinking of great things to reflect on and write about, but somehow I never make the time to do it.  And just like that, in the middle of this thought, I received a tag on the Book of Face from a dear friend.  She tagged me to come up with the top 10 books that have stayed with me in some way.  These books don't have to be great pieces of literature, but do need to have some sort of lasting effect on my life.  I laughed as I read this post because there are times when I have to wonder if the universe is speaking directly to me.  Is it possible that this was just the nudge I needed to sit down and get writing again?  So, today, I post my top ten books that have had a lasting impact on my life.  Thank you, Jen, for getting the ball rolling.

The Babysitter's Club series - As silly as this may seem, when I read my first Babysitter's Club book as a child, it opened my eyes to the wonderful world of series.  Each time I ended a book, I couldn't wait to pick up the next one.  I couldn't wait to find out how these characters were progressing through life, and what joys and difficulties they would experience next.  When there wasn't a new Babysitter's Club to read, I would seek out other series just to follow the character development and get sucked in to another fictional world.

James and the Giant Peach - I can't remember a lot of the details about this story, but why it stays with me is because this was one of my mom's favorite books, and she would read it to me at night before bed.  We'd curl up on the couch, and she would take a chapter at a time.  The copy we had was an old one, one from her youth, and I loved the smell of the aging pages and the excitement on mom's face that she was getting to share one of her favorite stories with me.

Tuesdays with Morrie - As a child, I read a lot.  We were a reading family.  It was a very common scene for dad to come home from work with mom, me and Philip curled up in our own corners of the house reading.  But when I got to college, the amount I read slowed down due to trying to juggle the college workload that came with my classes.  But when Tuesdays with Morrie came out, somehow it ended up in my hands, and I started to read it.  I remember vividly laying in bed late into the, my roommate asleep in the bed next to me, while I curled up under the bed lamp devouring the chapters. I was taken in by the life lessons, as well as the pain the main character felt when Morrie passed away.  I remember finishing the book sometime in the wee hours of the morning and laying in my bed crying.  I wanted all books to be that good, that meaningful.

Summer Sisters - Summer Sisters was Judy Blume's first stab at a novel for adults, and it is one that I have read multiple times.  This genre of book is a theme for me in my reading choices: two young girls - one beautiful and confident, one quiet and introspective - who are the best of friends until life takes it tolls and eventually they have a falling out.  This is usually because of the actions of the beautiful friend, while the ordinary one is left having been taken advantage of and forgotten.  All of this changes in adulthood when the two women are back in each other's lives and sorting through the growing pains that come with facing your childhood demons.  In all of the books that I've read that fall under this theme, I am always drawn in by this ordinary character, typically the protagonist.  I relate to her, both in who she was as a child and who she has become as an adult.  I think I read this story over and over again looking for layers of reflection in my own world.

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone - I was late to the Harry Potter craze.  In true Briana fashion, I was stubborn and didn't have an interest in reading this series over which the world was going crazy.  After all, it was a kid's book, right?  It was the summer I graduated from college when the hype was hitting it's peak, and book four was about to be released.  My aunt gave me a copy of book one as part of my college graduation gift.  Her reasoning: it was a great book that she had read with my cousin and the main character is going away to school, and I was about to go away to graduate school.  I remember putting the book on a pile of things and thinking I'd never touch it again.  That summer, my whole world was turned upside down when one of my best friends was killed by a drunk drive just days before I was supposed to leave for Ohio.  When I got to the Buckeye state, I didn't know a soul, and I was alone in an apartment with nothing but my overwhelmingly sad thoughts and feelings of loneliness.  I wasn't sleeping much, and on my second night there, I looked around the apartment for anything that would take my mind off of things.  And there it was: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone.  I grabbed the paperback copy, opened to the first page and by morning, I had finished it.  I spend the next day searching book stores in Columbus for the next book.  I bought book two and ordered books three and four from Amazon.  But without the ability to sleep, I finished the second book that next night and had to go for another search for book three.  I figured I could always return the copy from Amazon once it arrived.  I love the Harry Potter books now, but at the time, The Sorcerer's Stone may have saved me from losing my mind.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blooded Prince - As I mentioned, I love a good series, so while I'm talking about Harry Potter, I should mention my love for The Half-Blooded Prince.  I think this books stands out to me because it is part of the hero's journey when we've gone through the dark, angst stages (in Harry's case, The Order of the Phoenix) and get to have some light-hearted fun before things get difficult again.  (All heroes have their angst and anger phrase.  Remember Luke Skywalkers'?)  I found this book a fun read in the series before gearing up for what was sure to be a challenging end.

Trumpet - I believe in love, and I don't believe that life is as black-and-white as some think it is.  Trumpet is an incredible story of a man whose father passes away, and upon his death, he finds out that his father was born a biological woman.  This story is told in part as memories from his mother about the love story with her husband and in part from the son's point of view.  The range of emotions that the main character goes through as he learns about his father's past and his mother's love is a beautiful tale of what truly matters in life: unconditional love.

The Time Traveller's Wife - My heart melted the first time I read this book.  I was sailing on Semester at Sea, and it was one of the only things that made me want to stay in my cabin rather than enjoy ship life.  I loved every word, even the ones that broke my heart.  The idea that these two characters were drawn together and would find each other through time spoke to every inch of the romantic within me.  Like most of the other books on this list, I've read it multiple times.

Tattoos on the Heart - This book is a collection of memories and life lessons by Fr. Greg Boyle, a Jesuit who has created the country's most effective gang rehabilitation program.  The messages about love, forgiveness, dignity and compassion are the type that make your mind take a step back and think about life from a bigger picture.

No Plot, No Problem - This book is a how-to on writing a novel written by the guy who started NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month).  While I have still never sat down and made myself participate, this book still sits on my shelf and I think about it often.  It truly helps you consider all of the ways you can just sit down and start writing.  He helps you come to grips with the fact that your first novel is likely to be a bunch of crap, but that doesn't mean you should do it.

These are the first ten books that came to mind when I sat down to think about the pages that have impacted my life.  I'm sure at some point I will sit up and think about another book that should have been on the list, but for now, this is what I have.  Books and reading have played such an integral part of my life.  They have been my escape, my sanctuary, my fairy tales and my dreams.  And I'm always looking for the next great read.

Friday, January 03, 2014

With My Own Two Feet: The Finish Line

One year.  365 days.  15 races.  148.1 miles.

This is, by no means, a record of any sort.  For many runners, this is a modest number.  But of the many things I've learned over my year of running, it is not a competition.  Running is between you, your body and the pavement.  Winning is not about beating someone else; it's about finishing.  And I finished.  With my head held high, I ran across that last finish line knowing that I had won because I accomplished what I set out to do.

There were obstacles along the way.  Hobbling through foot and hip pains.  Leaving fun nights early to make it to the start line in time.  Realizing I'm not going to make a PR.  All of these things presented themselves along the way as moments to test me and to test if I was really learning anything from this challenge.  I'm happy to report that each time, I proved to myself that I was, in fact, growing.  I was stronger than the negative thoughts in my head.  I was prouder than the inner voice that was eager to beat myself up for not training better or moving faster.  I was more confident than the old worries that lingered when I realized my friends would be waiting at the finish line for a long time due to my modest pace.  The old Briana may have succumbed to any of these.  She may have given up along the way, justifying why it was okay to skip one month or stop the challenge all together.  But for all the ways I am the same person I've always been, I am also a better version of that person.

I have aged into a person more comfortable in my own skin and more comfortable with my imperfections.  I have even come to embrace most of these quirks and flaws because they are me.  They are the potholes along the course of my life, things you learn to jump over or sidestep in order to make it to the finish line, but without them, the race wouldn't be as much fun.  It'd be like running on a treadmill in an empty room.  You're more than physically capable of getting those miles in, but who wants to run like that?  I don't.  I want to feel the wind on my face.  I want to watch as I run by the scenery, taking in the sounds and the smells.  I want to keep one eye on the ground so I know when to hop, skip or jump over the pebbles and potholes.  I want to smile at the other runners as they pass by and offer encouragement to those who need a boost.  I want to see new places and experience old places from a different perspective.  I want to cross each finish line knowing that isn't the end of the journey.  I want to wear sparkly skirts and customized shirts to show the world that I am capable of finding the humor in all things.  I want to improve my pace, but always be proud of my time knowing that it was the best I could give on that day.  And I want to do all of these things with my own two feet.

So, who's up for a run?

With My Own Two Feet: December

DECEMBER
Divas Half Marathon (Ontario, CA) - 13.1 miles

Back in April, when we were at the Expo for the Rock 'n' Roll San Francisco race, one of the vendors was promoting the Divas Half Marathon series.  His selling points: you get a tiara, a pink feather boa and your medal is given to you by a shirtless male model dressed as a fireman!  Well, who am I to turn down a good time?!  And this sounded like it could be the perfect last race for my year of running.

It was a cold weekend for Southern California.  The morning of the race was only supposed to be about 35 degrees.  But as we huddled up at the start line, I had a warm feeling inside.  I couldn't believe this race was my last in my year-long challenge.  And I was doing it with two of my favorite supporters, AJ and Anthony.  My first of the year was with them, the dreaded New Year's Race when I had so much pain in my foot and hip.  And here we were full circle.  It was right around mile two that the tears started.  I was so overwhelmed with emotions.  Sadness.  Pride.  Happiness.  Love.  Awe.  All of it hit me at once, and I let the tears roll down my face, feeling them mix with the sweat and the wind.  It all felt worth it.  I had earned every feeling.  And when I turned the last corner and was greeted by those giving out accessories, I donned my tiara and boa with pride as I crossed that finish line.  All of the volunteers congratulated me as I passed by, but they couldn't imagine what an accomplishment this truly was.

Thursday, January 02, 2014

With My Own Two Feet: October, November

OCTOBER
Rock 'n' Roll Los Angeles (Los Angeles, CA) - 13.1 miles

The LA Rock 'n' Roll will always hold a special place in my heart since it was my first half marathon.  One year earlier, I was nervous and still a bit unsure if I was really going to be able to complete such a feat.  But I was also very excited to have such a large group of friends running with me.  There were eleven of us dressed as superheroes and geared up for this Halloween-themed run.

One year later, as I prepped for this same run, I couldn't help but think of how different it felt this time around.  Instead of being nervous about completing my first half, I was in shock that this would be my sixth in one year.  And instead of being surrounded by a team of eleven superheroes, it was just me and Anthony.  He was the Woody to my Buzz Light Year.  One year earlier, I truly needed an army to feel like I could get myself to the finish line.  And now, here I was.  No entourage waiting for me at the end.  It was just me motivating myself.  My confidence was coming from within.  And while I still love the energy when there is a big group in it together, there's something to be said about knowing that sometimes you are enough.


NOVEMBER
LMU Think Pink (Los Angeles, CA) - 3.1 miles
Rock 'n' Roll Las Vegas (Las Vegas, NV) - 13.1 miles

I can't lie and tell you that I am drawn to breast cancer awareness events.  Truth is, I hate them.  Maybe I still have some unresolved anger that I haven't worked out yet, but partially I think it has to do with something my mom said to me the day she told me she had cancer.  We both cried.  A lot.  Me more than her.  She had had time to get used to the idea and was also trying to be strong for us, as always.  And she said, "This disease will not define me.  My life is bigger than cancer."  This has always stood out to me because I think it says something about who my mom is and how she chose to live her life.  She didn't want to be thought of as synonymous with cancer.  This was just one part of who she was.  Which is part of the reason why I shy away from breast cancer events.  I don't want my mom or our family to be poster children for breast cancer.  She was more than that.  Even still, I do feel drawn to certain events and know that increasing awareness could save others from going through the hell that we've been through...that we are currently still in.  So, for my mom and for my job, a place I believe in and support, I suited up for the annual Think Pink run.  And I ran.  I ran for my mom.


The Vegas Strip.  Gambling, drinking, sleep deprivation, debauchery, running.  Wait...running?  Somehow of all of the things that come to mind when you think of the Vegas Strip, running isn't typically one of them, but that's the beauty of being a runner.  It takes you to new places and to places you've seen a million times, but gives you an opportunity to see them in a new way.  So when I learned of the Rock 'n' Roll Vegas, I was intrigued by the opportunity to run down the strip at night.

We lined up at the far end of the strip, just past the Luxor, at 4:30 pm, being serenaded by The All-American Rejects.  And as the sun dipped behind the mountains and was replaced with the superficial glow of casinos, stores and billboards, we took off with our first turn around the historic 'Welcome to Las Vegas' sign.  From there, it was a straight run up the strip until we turned to make our way down Fremont Street and back toward the finish line in front of Caesar's.  Lights.  On lookers.  Every step was peppered with something flashy to keep my attention.  And, with the exception of water stations, I ran almost the entire race.  It was the least amount of walking I'd ever done in a half.  Lucky 7, indeed.