The Secret(s) to My Success

Disclaimer: Today at work we had an ice cream social (for which I have been waiting excitedly for the past month) and I just fell down from my sugar high, so I don't want to make any promises that what follows will make any sense. For this I apologize.

As many of you know, I have not been a runner for a very long time. I'll tell that story some other time, though.This weekend I ran a total of 20 miles (13 Saturday and 7 Sunday). How do I do that? Well...


1) I'm actually dancing the whole time. Not literally, just in my head. I blast dance music and run with the beat, pretending that I am actually dancing. Those who know me know that if there is catchy dance music and I am in a place where I can dance, I will dance. I sometimes find myself dancing accidentally--a move will work its way into my run, but mostly I find myself dancing when I get excited in everyday life. when they were dishing out my third scoop of ice cream today, for example. Now, some of the dance moves I do in my head are dance moves you may see me do on an actual dance floor, but for the most part they are either moves that I cannot do or at least cannot do as gracefully in real life as I imagine it. I often get lost in my run, because I am so lost in choreographing a dance routine. So now you know.

2) I remember all of my awesome clients from Taller de Jose. I think about how my running the marathon can help them get assistance going to court and finding resources, even if sometimes it is just a sympathetic ear. How can I not run those miles when I know they are going to such a great place? It's sad that accompaniment is a phenomenon rarely seen outside of this amazing organization. I wrote the book on being a companera (literally--part of my job last summer was making a staff handbook) so I can tell you that it is truly honorable and necessary work.   I am very grateful to those who have already contributed to my fundraising campaign. I know everyone who reads this will share what they are able, and for that I am extremely grateful. (There are still 2+ months until the race, so don't feel rushed!).

Thank you for accompanying me on this journey!

What happened to the twins from the elevator?

I wanted to post a follow-up to my last post---not because anyone asked but because I wanted to share. The following paragraph is from the entry I wrote December 2010 about the court date we were given when we filed for guardianship. I believe I had three clients with court dates that day--it was a little crazy. I gave one away and balance the other two. One of the clients just wanted me around for moral support and her case was just a check-in, so I stopped by her court room a couple of times and called her later. She speaks English perfectly (and became a citizen last March--she was supposed to swear in in February but was delayed a month due to the Snowpocalypse). Anyway, I felt like I had to spend most of my time with the client who had the twins because I identified with her case--the twins have autism, like my brother. To top it off they were the same age as my brother--There was NO way I was giving up this accompaniment even though I had spent more time with the other client. Here's what happened:


On Monday I had two clients with cases and went to court with one of them but we were early so I was able to stop by the other client’s court room. The client I went to court with was there to get guardianship of her adult twin daughters who have autism. They are very shy and do not like direct questioning but the judge had to ask them if they objected to having their mom named as their guardian. One of them nodded but then burst into tears so the judge quickly decided to grant guardianship and let them get out of there. But let me back up—in the courtroom of the client I visited there was a lawyer with the build and beard of Santa Claus. He had a cast on his foot and instead of crutches, he had a large wooden walking stick and was holding it up while he sat. Then, I went back to the courtroom with the client with whom I came to the Daley Center and noticed the clerk—who looked like a leprechaun. At first I was thinking he was an elf because I had just seen Santa Claus but then I heard his Irish accent and noticed his leprechaun dolls. He was very helpful, if a bit irritated that we were missing a couple of papers. After we walked out of the court room, I went back to get a copy of the order the judge signed, the clerk told me that, because of the crying, despite his many years of working as a clerk in the Daley Center this was the first case that truly touched him. I touched a leprechaun’s heart!


I would also like to thank everyone for their donations--I'm already a third of the way to my goal!
Thanks for accompanying me on my journey!