To Train or Not to Train

I spent this  morning looking at some half marathon training plans. I am already signed up to run the Chicago Half Marathon in September, but I have been kicking around the idea of running the Chicago Mich Ultra Half in May as well. In my mind, I’d rather train for two half marathons than one full marathon. I know the havoc wreaked upon my body just training for a half; I’m afraid training for a full would hurt me physically and mentally more than it would help me. I am also over the idea that to reach a running pinnacle of sorts, I have to run a full.

So here I sit, pondering if I should train for this half in May.

Reasons why I think I should:

Reasons why I am hesitating:

  • Long runs — even the moderately long runs — during the week are exhausting. I have to get up really early to get the miles in.
  • I have been achy lately. I am doing all sorts of different exercise to keep myself motivated and moving. I find myself creaky a lot of the time. I’ll only get more creaky if I train for a half.
  • I live in constantly mortal dread of injury, even with doing the things my physical therapists have taught me.
  • I have to work some runs — long runs — in while I am on a cruise over my spring break — AND a long run for sure the weekend my daughter graduates from college.
  • For instance, one plan I am looking at has me doing a 7 mile run on my cruise and an 11 mile run the weekend my daughter graduates. Another plan has me doing a 6 mile run on my cruise and a 9 mile run on graduation weekend. The last plan has me doing an 8 mile run on the cruise and a 10 mile run on graduation weekend.

So, running friends, got any advice?

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Books Worth Reading

As of the end of December 2015, I am no longer a freelance writer for Curriculet. I had the chance to be an independent contractor with them for a year and a half, but now that they can slow down on their Curriculet development, they cut back on writers. I loved writing for them. The best perk of the job is getting paid to read really great books! So here is a list of books I read for that job with links to the books on Amazon in case you want to read any of them yourself.

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Snow Running — My Observations

And hold on to your hats, folks. I’m gonna say something nice about snow.

I did my first real run in the snow this morning. Yes, my very first 5K was in the snow, but to be honest, I hardly call what I did in that race “running”. I was going to go to the gym and run on the running track, but I saw how much snow was on the ground ( maybe a couple inches and still coming down) so I decided it would be a good time to try out the Yak Trax my husband bought me for my birthday. My observations:

  • Running with the Yak Trax was definitely more secure than running in just my shoes. But I also had to be cautious because I couldn’t see any icy patches under the snow, but I knew when I hit them!
  • Yak Trax are a little challenging to put on and a little challenging to take off. I’m hoping with practice, it will get easier.
  • Running in the snow will cure you of heel striking if you’re prone to that (like I am when I get tired). You will run as flat on your mid-foot as possible in that snow  because if you heel strike, you will slide. Even with the Yak Trax on.
  • Not gonna break any speed records running in the snow. I ran 2.25 miles in half an hour. Going that slow guaranteed I would make it home without falling.

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    After my snowy run this morning, with all sorts of snow frozen in my hair. It was kinda fun 🙂

  • And I spent a lot of time looking down at my feet, watching for any icy patches or bumps or dips in the snow, road, or sidewalk. They are hidden well in the snow and make for some dicey moments.
  • I took the corners at a walk because if I ran when turning a corner, I was sliding.
  • This makes it sound like I was still sliding around a lot, but I wasn’t. It only took a few slides to learn how to run without sliding.
  • Different muscles are used, or muscles are used differently, when running in the snow. My legs and ankles and shins and feet felt very different running in the snow than they usually do when running. I feel like I had to use those muscles not just to run but to really balance as well.
  • Here it comes. The nice thing I’m going to say about snow. Running while the snow is falling is kind of fun. It’s nice. It’s quiet and ethereal. It is NOT enough to keep me in Illinois, though, because as nice as it was running with the snowflakes swirling all around me, it doesn’t even compare to what it’s like to run along the beach in Key West. So humph.
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Year in Review — 2015: Ride the Coaster

I am ready to have 2015 in the rear view mirror. While there were so many great things that happened this year, the few lousy things just cast dark shadows over everything. So, in no particular order, I present my 2015.

  • Running. I ran my very first half marathon this year in September. My goal was to do it in less than three hours, and I did it in 2:56.17. I even celebrated with a tattoo — all I had to do was believe. And train hard. I remember very clearly one morning after a 5 mile run, telling Jim I didn’t think I could do it. I was hurting all the time. He told me that he knew I could do it. I didn’t want to let him down, nor did I want to let myself down. So I just kept on pushing and it was well worth it in the end! I also continually improved my PR times with every 5K I ran — including beating Jim across the finish line at the last one we ran earlier this month! I even got my daughter to run her first 5K, and I was so proud to be with her every step of the way.
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    My half marathon tattoo!

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    Me, Jim, and Becky after she ran her first 5K.

    Wearing my half marathon finisher’s medal.

  • 25 years. Jim and I celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary. I can say that I have gained quite an understanding of my marriage after looking back on the past quarter century. I’m sure I loved Jim when I married him, but I also know that I was desperate to get married — I was the last one of my friends to do so and dammit, I wanted my white dress and big party! That made for a rocky start. And we definitely hit a lot of big bumps along the way. When our daughter left for college, I was terrified to be alone with Jim. I knew we were at a tipping point. Either we would break up or grow together. I was pretty convinced it would be the former, but I was wrong. We turned to each other and grew exponentially. You know how people say they married their best friends? Well, Jim and I were most definitely not best friends 25 years ago, but we very much are now. I am the luckiest girl in the world.

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    Jim and me on our wedding day, 25 years ago!

  • Back to the classroom. After 2 years in my tech position, I returned to teaching language arts half my day and doing the tech job half the day. Big mistake. I thought I could balance it. Wrong. I feel the need to apologize to all the teachers I work with because for the past 2 years, I really felt like they could count on me to be a help to them, but this year, I am overwhelmed, less accessible than I have been in the past, slow to respond, and generally not the person I want to be for my colleagues. I promise to continue to manage my time better for all of you and be the help you need!
  • Travel. I am so fortunate to be able to have the travel opportunities I get. This past year, I got to go back to India, and I loved it even more the second time around! I love the buzz, the life, the activity that is always there. There is always something interesting to see there, whether it is beautiful or heartbreaking. I loved settling into a routine while I was there — I especially enjoyed going to the park with my dad and Brenda; they walked and I ran. Then we would have coffee on the balcony. Those moments are the best memories from my trip! I also got to travel with my dad and Brenda to Dubai, which was dazzling to say the least. I loved the opulence and the modernity. Again, there was always so much to see. Domestically, I got to take 2 trips to Key West! The first was in June to celebrate my daughter’s 21st birthday. I was surrounded by family and friends on that trip and every moment was pure joy. The second trip was in November with friends and it was heavenly to just be in the warmth and relax. (BTW, while there in November, I got to do a running bucket list item — I ran Duval Street! It was so cool to be there before all the hustle and bustle started. I love looking at my little GPS map and seeing my straight line covering the length of Duval Street!) I also went with our friends Larry and Cathy to the Indy 500 in May. That was one of the most wonderful trips I’ve taken! I always have so much fun with Larry and Cathy, but this was exceptional! They showed us the ropes of how to make the most of the Indy experience, and I felt like a little kid all day, I was so excited! I can’t WAIT to go back next year!
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    I decided to have pink hair when I went to Key West in June!

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    On the balcony of my hotel room in Dubai.

  • Family. I gained a deeper appreciation of family this year. I found myself growing closer to my brother and his family, which makes me so happy. I look at my cousin Robyn and her brother Peter, and I envy their relationship. I love that I feel like I can just call my brother just to talk. I love that we have fun when our families get together. We seemed to just kind of co-exist for the past few years, but this year has been different. My brother and his family are a lot of fun. I’m glad I got to re-discover that! I’ve also learned that when it comes to family, I can spend a lifetime loving people but have that love thrown back in my face. I alternate between being hurt deeply by that and not giving a single fuck (sorry for the language). I’m being purposely cryptic here, BTW. I don’t want to stir up drama; I just want to note that this year, family was in the forefront of my mind and heart, both positively and negatively. It is interesting how in some instances, family relationships changed just in an evolutionary way and how some changed because situations were thrust upon us and we had a common experience bonding us together.
  • My daddy. The day after I came home from my November trip to Key West, I was back on a plane headed to Houston because my father had suffered an sudden cardiac arrest. By all accounts, he should have been dead. But by whatever means — great medicine, angels, power of prayer, divine intervention, sheer luck, being at the right place at the right time — he is alive today. He walked out of the hospital one week after he should have been dead. I still get to have my daddy in my life. That’s the best gift I could ever ask for. Check out the story about what happened to him here.

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    Brenda with Miguel, the absolute best ICU nurse in the history of ever. We will all be forever indebted to Miguel for the wonderful care he gave my father and really all of us.

  • Suicide. My grandfather killed himself a few weeks ago. I am a tangled mess of guilt, anger, love, hate, and confusion. And I don’t want to talk about it much. But there it is. One of the most significant events of my whole life.

I’m ready for 2015 to be gone. I’m excited and apprehensive about 2016. One thing I learned this year — life is one helluva roller coaster.

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We Fear Change

Normally, I’m not afraid of change, but there’s a change happening in my life right now that I’m a little nervous about. And I know that many of you will roll your eyes at this, but if you know me, then you’ll understand why it’s causing me angst.

It’s the new Weight Watchers SmartPoints plan.

I’ve been following Weight Watchers for almost a year and a half, and I’ve lost more than 50 pounds. I really liked their PointsPlus plan and had great success with it, obviously. I liked that I was really able to eat what I wanted within reason. I have never really felt deprived following WW. But this new SmartPoints thing has me feeling like a failure only 2 weeks into it.

My weakness is sweets. Everybody has a food that is hard to resist; mine is chocolate and cakes and cookies and candy. My inability to resist sweets is partially responsible for forcing me to WW; eating that stuff has helped me get fat. But on the old WW plan, I was able to eat a reasonable amount of sweets. Usually, I’d have something after lunch and something after dinner. I’m talking like a container of chocolate pudding after lunch and a couple cookies after dinner. If one day I splurged and had a cupcake, it was a recoverable “error”. I really could eat pretty much whatever I wanted within reason and not feel deprived.

The new SmartPoints plan really ups the Point count on sugary things and starchy things. For instance, in my Weekly yesterday, they had  a sample menu that showed a brownie as 15 Points. Our leader said that would be like a 2″ X 2″ brownie. Now, maybe that number means nothing to you, so I’ll try to give it some perspective. I get 32 Points every day plus 42 “extra” Points each week to “spend” on whatever I choose. This sounds like a lot, but go back to that brownie. The size of that brownie isn’t unreasonable, but if I decide to eat one of those because someone brought them in for someone’s birthday, then I have eaten almost half my Points for that day just on that brownie. It’s like my whole day just got completely derailed because I decided to eat a brownie.

Which is how I got to this point today. A teacher I work with made me a plate of Christmas cookies today — and I love her gesture! I don’t want her to read this and think I’m ungrateful because I’m not at all! But I ate 3 cookies — two peanut butter blossoms and one frosted sugar cookie. None of these cookies were huge; they were just average-sized cookies. I’m estimating that each of those cookies was at least 6 Points each, which means by eating 3 cookies I blew more than half my Points for the day. I had already had 2 Points for breakfast — a glass of almond milk, unsweetened. Anything else would be too many Points — a protein bar, a breakfast bar, toast with a little peanut butter. So I am now eating a piece of fruit and having a glass of mike for breakfast to save Points. My lunch (catered lunch today at a meeting) was a little bit of Italian beef, 2 cheese raviolis, a half a piece of garlic bread, and a salad. I’m estimating my lunch at 12 Points. So add up my breakfast (2), lunch (12), and cookies (18) — that’s 32 Points. I guess I don’t get to eat dinner tonight.  All because I had three cookies. When things like this happen, it becomes all too easy to say, “Well, I screwed myself for the day. May as well keep on eating.” I feel weak and defeated and guilty. Because I ate three cookies. Not a whole package of cookies. Not a whole plate of cookies. Three cookies.

Some foods that I loved, I avoided because I knew they were bad, but if presented as a special treat, I might partake. For instance, I love French Silk pie. On the old WW plan, one slice of that pie was 19 Points — eek! I rarely had it — like only at Thanksgiving or at Christmas. But on the SmartPoints plan, that same slice of pie is 30 Points! My God, the whole WEEK is practically shot if I eat one slice of that pie! How could I live with myself after eating that???

So here I sit, feeling guilty that I’m going to eat dinner tonight even though I’m out of Points because I was hungry and ate 3 cookies. Tomorrow, I have my work Christmas party to face. Friday, I have a catered holiday lunch at work to face, plus I’m going to a very nice restaurant with friends to celebrate my 25th wedding anniversary. I feel like my whole week was going to be hard to manage anyway, but now I feel like throwing in the towel because I already jacked it up by eating 3 cookies.

If the new WW is all about making me feel like a failure for eating a cookie, then it’s a rousing success.

Posted in Rants, Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 1 Comment

Now You’ve Got My Attention

I have spent years in blissful ignorance, in peaceful complacency, in feeble excuses.

I remember Lori Dann, so many years ago in Winnetka. Columbine. Northern Illinois University. Fort Hood. Gabby Giffords in Tuscon. Aurora, Colorado, movie theater. Sikh temple in Wisconsin. Sandy Hook. Washington Navy Yard. Charleston church. Planned Parenthood in Colorado Springs.  Just to name a very few.

I have sat by and watched silently while innocent people have been killed. Adults. Students. Military. Religious. Teachers. High school kids. Middle school kids. Elementary school kids. Just to name a very few. I’ve felt disgust and sadness and sat back and shook my head and shrugged my shoulders.

I’ve said nothing.

I’ve said, “I don’t think we need stricter gun control laws. They won’t do any good anyway. The guns are already out there. There’s no way to change what happens with guns.”

I’ve said, “Meh,” to anything the NRA says because they want to arm everyone, I swear. When a baby is born, take their footprints, determine their APGAR score, fill out the birth certificate, and get them their FOID card. Guns make a great baptism gift. Add a box of bullets to your flower arrangement for an extra fee.

I have been apathetic. And happily so.

But then San Bernardino happened today. And now I’m pissed and I’m tired of being apathetic and apologetic and level headed.

Fix. This. Now.

It is still too soon into this story to know if any of the people killed or wounded were developmentally disabled, but I don’t care. Three gunmen walked into this facility well prepared to murder and cause harm. This is a place that assists the most innocent and vulnerable of our world. These are people who have no concept of evil and do nothing their whole lives but love and depend on the goodness and kindness of others and exude kindness and love in return. The mere fact that someone has come in and defiled this space for these people, regardless of who was the target or who was injured or killed, has made me decide that I no longer want to be silent and apathetic and passive. Because all I see when I imagine what happened today is an image of my two uncles who are developmentally disabled and how terrifying and vile it is to imagine someone coming in to a place where they are and scaring them or hurting them.

I have sat back and let innocent people, including children, be murdered, and I’ve kept silent. But not anymore. Now I’ve decided it’s personal.

To the NRA, shut the hell up about gun rights and recognize that not everyone deserves a gun. Start to acknowledge that we have a gun problem in this country and it needs to be addressed. Use your power for good.

All you responsible gun owners, start to speak up loudly and forcefully about how horrific this is. Flood social media with your condemnation of irresponsible, reckless, dangerous, murderous use of guns. Advocate for responsible gun laws and responsible gun ownership. Acknowledge the fact that we have a gun problem in this country. Help make it stop.

I have always been one who said, “Guns don’t kill people. People kill people.” But I don’t give a damn about that sentiment anymore. People kill people with guns way, way, way too often and in way, way, way too many numbers. The number of people killed with guns compared to other murders is disproportionate. Acknowledge that. Do something. Make it stop.

We have a damn gun murder problem in this country. I am at the point where I don;t give a single damn about the 2nd Amendment. I don’t care about the right to bear arms. I care more about protecting innocent lives, especially the most vulnerable lives in our society.

I am tired of thinking about gun violence rationally. I’m pissed.

Make. It. Stop. I don’t care how. Just freaking do it.

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Marathon Musings

Yesterday, Jim and I volunteered to work at the Chicago Marathon. It was an interesting experience, so thanks to my friends Larry and Cathy for “roping” us into this. But I had a few thoughts on it.

First, my non-running-related thoughts. It is simply mind-boggling how much behind-the-scenes work goes on to put on this event. If nothing else, I was impressed by the number of people and hours that go into getting this race in action. A huge round of applause goes out to all the people who work and volunteer this event. That being said, here are a few snarky comments. First, if you are going to volunteer to work this race, then fulfill you commitment or dump it altogether, but don’t do it half-assed. If you can’t commit, then don’t come. But if you show up, then do the whole job. Jim and I were very fortunate to have a great group of volunteers that worked corral H with us. They all did what they were asked to do, and they all stayed through to the very end of their commitment time and some even stayed beyond. But we have been told by other people who have worked the marathon before that volunteers skipping out early has been an issue. After doing this yesterday, I get a sense of how problematic that can be. Also, the vast majority of runners are so great to work with, but it is amazing how I can greet 5000 runners entering a corral and remember the five or so who were complete jerks. Yes, we volunteers are there to make sure you runners have a great race, but that doesn’t mean you get the right to be nasty to the volunteers. Also keep in mind that we don’t make the rules, nor do we make up the way the start is set up. So when you don’t like the fact that we can’t let you in any other corral other than one you’re assigned to or you don’t like the fact that you can’t get to gear check without having to take the long way around the back of the last corral, that is not the fault of the volunteers. We are only telling you what we have been told to tell runners when they ask us these questions. No need to argue, threaten, or just be rude. And yes, I sure met a very few rude runners yesterday. And trust me when I say, I was always polite and apologetic because I know that when I have that vest on with my name on it, I am representing the Chicago Marathon and my behavior reflects upon the organizers of this race.

Me working corral H at the Chicago Marathon. I'm plugging my ear trying to hear what they are saying over the radio as we bring our runners toward the start line. Pretty electric! Photo credit: Cathy M.

Me working corral H at the Chicago Marathon. I’m plugging my ear trying to hear what they are saying over the radio as we bring our runners toward the start line. Pretty electric! Photo credit: Cathy M.

Also, please remember that volunteers don’t know everything. I had a few spectators come to me after I was done and heading back to return my materials approach me about where to access the finish line or where to meet their runners when done. I couldn’t answer their questions and they sure were mad. I apologized and explained that to be very honest, my work was on the start line and I did not learn about the procedures for the finish line. Some people just didn’t like that answer. I tried to point them to people who could help them, but they didn’t like that either. They expected that I had on the vest so I must know it all. One woman yelled at me and said, “My son is the number one marathon racer in Mexico and I want to watch him cross the finish line!” I tried to explain to her that the finish line was a secured area and she couldn’t go there, but I told where she could meet him afterward. She huffed off. Again, I don’t know everything as a volunteer, and I didn’t make the rules. But the vast, vast majority of runners were a lot of fun to be around and had a great, positive vibe. I even ran into a former student at corral H! I knew right away when he said, “Are you Mrs. Bogacz?” because there is only one group of people in the world who call me that 🙂

Now running-related thoughts. And this is nobody’s fault — make that disclaimer right now. This is likely MY brain and MY insecurities at work. But Two weeks ago I felt like a kick-ass runner for finishing a half marathon. And now suddenly I feel like maybe that wasn’t such a big deal. Because it wasn’t a full marathon. I’ve started kicking around the idea of training for a marathon after  my experience this weekend, but now I can’t figure out if it’s because I’m inspired to run a marathon or if I am feeling somehow inadequate because I ran a half but not a full. Attempting to run a marathon out of spite is a crappy reason to run one. But somehow I feel less “accomplished” and I know I shouldn’t feel that way and I don’t know why I feel like that. It’s not because anyone has ever said I should feel that way or poo-pooed what I did. But that feeling is nagging at me and I don’t like it. (BTW, I’m not looking for anymore “attagirls!”)

So if you like  a challenge and like to be a part of something exciting, consider volunteering to work the marathon. It will be a great experience and a learning experience. I’m looking forward to it again next year.

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Chicago Half Marathon

Today I ran my very first half marathon. My official time was 2:56.17; I had said I wanted to run it in 2:59.59, so I beat the goal I had for myself. I am still on a high from this. I don’t anticipate coming down for quite a while.

With Peter and Michael before the race.

With Peter and Michael before the race.

Ever since I watched my cousin Peter run a half marathon, I wanted to do it. I tried to train once or twice in years past, but never even came close. I had all sorts of issues with my shins, and honestly, I simply didn’t have the mental chops it takes. I knew I had what it took at the beginning of this year, but I got injured which sidelined my training for a half I wanted to run in May. I really was chomping at the bit to do a half this year, but I was so nervous about the Chicago Half because they had a minimum 12 minute/mile average pace requirement (they changed that minimum pace requirement about 2 or 3 weeks before the race to a 16 minute/mile average pace, which was a saving grace for me, as my average pace today ended up being more than the 13 minute/mile). But I signed up for it. And I did it. And I didn’t come in last.

The weirdest thing I saw was around mile 2 or so. I passed a guy (and yes, he was wearing a race bib so he wasn’t some random Chicago guy) who was walking barefoot, watching a movie on his phone. I knew at the very least I could beat this guy for sure.

Running on Lake Shore Drive is pretty cool. The road is pretty severely banked in some places, though, which wreaked havoc on my shins, knees, and hips.

Mile 4. Feeling really good.

Mile 4. Feeling really good.

I felt pretty good through most of the race. I started to feel the miles around mile 7 or 8. By the time I hit the last 2 miles, I was struggling. The mental part of those last two miles was way harder than the physical part. I was constantly telling myself, “Step. Step. Step. Move forward. Move forward. Move forward.” I was also fighting back tears, which would have resulted in a guaranteed fail. So I kept those at bay because I knew what they would do to me.

Yes, I was hurting. I was hurting in ways I’ve never hurt before when running. But I wasn’t concerned by the pain. I had long ago accepted that there is pain in long runs, so the pain and the exhaustion weren’t my battles; it was the mental fortitude.

Done, sweaty, wearing my hard-earned bling!

Done, sweaty, wearing my hard-earned bling!

Every part of my lower body hurts. The tips of my toes. My feet. My ankles. My shins. My calves. My knees. My thighs, front and back. My IT band is surely screaming as is my hip. Both sides. My rear end. And I love love love it. Badges of honor. It’s funny how my 10 miles run last week left me tired and a little sore but add 3 more miles on to that 10 and suddenly my body starts to fall apart like the Blues Brothers car!

My body after this race :-) (Photo URLhttp://www.geeksofdoom.com/GoD/img/2015/06/The-Blues-Brothers-Chicago.jpg)

My body after this race 🙂
(Photo URLhttp://www.geeksofdoom.com/GoD/img/2015/06/The-Blues-Brothers-Chicago.jpg)

This was an experience of a lifetime. I don’t have many things on my bucket list. But this was one of them.

And to the person who many years ago told me I couldn’t run a half because I wasn’t “built like a runner”, well I might just have to smack you with my humongous Chicago Half Marathon finishers’ medal.

Posted in Exercise | 2 Comments

IDC About Patrick Kane

Let me start by saying I don’t care what anyone reading this thinks of Patrick Kane. I don’t care if you think he’s a dirty pig rapist or if you are a supporter of his and believe with every ounce of your being that he has a halo over his head or if your opinion is somewhere in between. I do not care. We can all sit around and say we are waiting for “the truth” to come out, but it won’t happen. There are three sides to every story — and the three sides in this story are Kane’s side, the accuser’s side and the truth. So anyone who is asserting that they are waiting for the truth before making a judgment, good luck with that. A charge isn’t the truth. A verdict isn’t the truth. A settlement isn’t the truth. The truth will never be known. That’s why I don’t care what you think of Patrick Kane.

But I do kind of care what you think about his accuser.

Because the amount of slut shaming that has happened since this story broke has been disgusting, nauseating, filthy, vile, frightening, and a whole host of other awful adjectives.

Anyone who thinks a woman makes a claim of rape lightly is being utterly ridiculous. Here’s why.

First, I think most people have sympathy for the woman who claims rape when some horrible. big man jumps out of the shadows and brutally rapes a woman. But when it comes to date rape or acquaintance rape, well, that changes things.

If my own daughter came to me and told me she had been raped, I would passionately beg her NOT to pursue it, to just forget about it, to learn to live with having been violated so horribly. And here’s why.

If she was wearing a skirt or dress that was too short (subjective), OR if she was wearing pants that were too tight (subjective), OR if she was wearing a top that was too sheer or too tight or too low cut (subjective), she would be called a slut, which equates to asking to be raped which means she deserved it.

If she was flirting with the guy, she would be called a slut, which equates to asking to be raped which means she deserved it.

If she had been drinking, she would be called a slut, which equates to asking to be raped which means she deserved it.

If she left with the guy or went somewhere alone with him, especially if it was not daylight out, she would be called a slut, which equates to asking to be raped which means she deserved it.

If she has any kind of sexual past, meaning she is not a virgin, she would be called a slut, which equates to asking to be raped which means she deserved it.

If she has ever had so much as a sip of alcohol in the past, she would be called a slut, which equates to asking to be raped which means she deserved it.

If she has breasts or a vagina, she would be called a slut, which equates to asking to be raped which means she deserved it.

A grandmother, a nun, a pregnant woman could be raped and some people would find ways to say she deserved it.

Pardon my language, but this is the shit-storm that has been unleashed upon Patrick Kane’s accuser. And it is disgusting. And so very sad.

This is why I would never, ever want my daughter to accuse someone of rape. And God forbid she leveled that accusation against someone who is a pillar of the community or famous or has money. Because that opens up a whole new level of vile, insulting, degrading things to say about her. The humiliation and degradation that happens to a woman who has been raped is nothing compared to the humiliation and degradation that comes upon her if she has the audacity to actually make the accusation. I wouldn’t wish that shit-storm on any woman.

So go ahead and have your opinion about Patrick Kane. You’ll never be proved right or wrong. Feel free to support him at the top of your voice if you want. But try doing it without slut shaming. Because no woman, including Kane’s accuser, deserves it ever.

Try it out on a woman you know. I tried it out on my daughter. Try it out on your mom. Maybe your mom is out with some friends having a glass of wine. She’s got on a skirt that’s just above her knees and a sleeveless top and red heels, not too high. Some group of guys has been watching your mom and her friends all night from a distance. Your mom and her friends end their night at like midnight, her friends leave but she hits the bathroom before she leaves. So now she’s walking out to her car alone and one of the guys who was in the bar earlier accosts her in the parking lot, manages to get her in his car, drives her away and rapes her.

Was she drinking? Asked for it.

Was she alone? Asked for it.

How was she dressed — skirt above the knee, skin showing, heels? Asked for it.

Did she at any time see the guy, make eye contact with him, smile at him? If so, asked for it.

If you think this is bullshit, think again. Because this is how lawyers who defend accused rapists make their case. SHE made all sorts of mistakes. SHE did all sorts of misleading things.

And I haven’t even gotten to how much or little a woman fights or protests. Because I’m betting for rape apologists, there isn’t any amount of “no” that matters. She was in a mini skirt? Your “no” means nothing. You were dressed like a slut. You asked for it. You deserve it.

None of this is an exaggeration. Read about rape cases. Read the comments on any story out there about Patrick Kane right now. His accuser is a dirty whore, a filthy slut, a gold-digging bitch who deserves to be raped for real.

False accusations happen, but they are very rare. Because that accusation, real or fabricated, results in a lifelong torrent of hideous insults.

The slut shaming and excuse-making and victim blaming is a boil on the butt of our humanity and it has to stop. Let’s start with this very public Patrick Kane case. Your character is showing.

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#100DaysofMiles Day 100

On January 1, 2015, I started on a journey to run at least one mile for 100 days (hosted by I ❤ To Run). On August 5, 2015, I ran day 100. In theory, I should have run 100 miles in those 100 days, but because most times I run more than a mile, I actually logged many more miles than 100. I actually ran 284.41 miles over those 100 days.

I ran inside on treadmills and on running tracks. I ran outside on the road, sidewalk, and bike path. I ran in the dark and in the sunshine. I ran in the morning, afternoon, and night. I ran in the heat, humidity, snow, and rain.

I ran here in my home town. I ran in Mumbai, India; Dubai, UAE; and Key West, Florida. I tried to run on a cruise ship in the middle of the ocean but since I had forgotten to pack a sports bra, running was NOT a possibility!

I ran one race in those 100 days — a 5K on the 4th of July in Tinley Park where I ran my best 5K. I was sub-40 minutes and damn proud of that accomplishment considering the very first 5K I ever ran was finished in 56:29.

People say running is an individual sport, and in some respects it is. I almost always run alone, and I prefer it that way. I’m very self-conscious about my pace (as you can tell, I’m not a really fast runner). I’m not much of a conversationalist when I run, either, due to all oxygen being used for breathing! But that doesn’t mean I managed to squeak out almost 300 miles of running all by myself. Let me tell you who has helped me along the way — and I KNOW I’m gonna forget someone, so if I forgot you, TELL me! Because I want to thank you! This is in no particular order.

My husband, who believes in me to a fault and is my biggest cheerleader. Thank you fur running that Hot Chocolate race and making me so jealous I wanted to cry. That was what motivated me.

My daughter, who also believes in her mommy way more than is deserved.

My mom, dad, and Brenda who always encourage me. Dad and Brenda got me a nice kick in the pants to move while I was in India!

My neighbors Lori, Jennifer, and Darcy for always cheering me on when they see me dripping sweat up and down their sidewalks.

My friends the Millers for always listening to me drone on about running and believing in me.

My dear friend Emily who has been encouraging me to run for years. She has been there when I tried and failed and hurt and whined and she never stopped supporting me.

All sorts of people I work with — Susan, Chris, Dacia, Mary Jo, Denise, Michelle, Laura, Angie, Deb, Brenna, Katie, Katie, Ted, Amy, KC, Kimberly, Peggy, Shari, Geri, Janine, and Erin. They always are willing to talk running and exercise. It is extremely motivating to work with such a big group of healthy-minded people. You all literally have no clue how much you help me live a healthy, active life.

My extended family — Aunt Carol, Robyn, Peter, Michael — you also listen to me drone on about running way more than I know you want to!

ATI Physical Therapy, especially Genevieve and Ashley. When I got injured and had to lay off the heavy duty running for a couple months, they were the two PTs who got me back in shape. The taught me so much about the mechanics of my body; to this day, I am doing exercises they gave me because I live in mortal dread of a sidelining injury again.

The Channahon-Minooka Running Club group on Facebook. I read their posts and ask for advice and I fill in my miles on the mileage chart and love seeing my name on the list with all the big running dogs. I may be more of a lurker in that group, but you seriously have no idea how much you all motivate me.

And bunches of other people on Facebook who have “liked” every one of my running posts, and they’re plentiful! I think of people like Jamie and Pam and Danielle and Bob and Christine and Karen and Margie and Sheila and Missy and Yvonne and Yoshie and on and on and on!

My Weight Watchers peeps — DeAnna and Chris and all the other people whose names I don’t know but always have smiling, supportive faces.

Naperville Running Company for feeding my addiction to shoes, socks, and Gu. And always asking me about my running. They took me seriously as a runner despite the fact that I have never looked like a runner (and I still don’t but I know better — I AM a runner).

So I may be done with 100 days of miles, but I’m not done running. I’m attempting half marathon training right now and so far it’s going well. That may be on the horizon for me. I’m still undecided. But I will continue to keep running. In the past year, I have lost 53.4 pounds and running has played a huge role in that weight loss. I’ve still got almost 25 pounds to go to get to my goal weight, so tomorrow will be day 101, and there will be many more beyond that!

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