My Tough Mudder Adventure - Vail Lake - So Cal - 2012

The day before the Tough Mudder,  I woke up in near panic.  What in the world was I thinking?  Before my negativity gained total control I took myself to a yoga class.  During deep relaxation I had this conversation.

“You are 40 and you will never be less than that again.  Thanks to your thyroid, you are overweight - and may never be thin again.  1 year ago you were sleeping in a recliner with a broken shoulder and didn’t think you’d ever lift a kettle bell again..but you can.  4 months  ago you tore a muscle in the Gladiator and didn’t think you’d be running by now…but you are.  2 mos ago you broke your finger and didn’t think you would be able to grasp a rope by now…but you can.  Any one of these things might stop a person from doing the Tough Mudder.  But none of these things have stopped you from training. None of these things will stop you tomorrow. Tomorrow you will prove that you can do it.  You will do it for the love of feeling alive.   You will have a team that will be with you the whole way.  It is not a race, it is a challenge and you are ready for the challenge.”

My Training

• Weight/Circuit training 2 – 3 times a week.  I’ve been doing this for 4+ years, but was definitely not at a peak between my shoulder and my leg injuries.  I just kept it consistent and tried to build without adding injury.  
• Long Haul Hikes/Walks Once a Week.  I had planned to do 10 miles before the Mudder, but had a calf cramping issue the day of and only made it 3 miles.  The farthest distance I did was 7 miles…but it was a climb of over 1000 feet.
• Run/Walk  Intervals – 2 x a week.  This was the hardest part.  My legs are so torn up, from years of street running that flat land running is nothing but painful….plus I was recovering from a pretty nasty ankle/shin/calf tear thing. I worked up to a slow but steady 2 miles…not exactly what I hoped for. 
• I also did yoga once a week and have a weekly tennis date.  When my legs flared,  I ran in a swimming pool, swam or rode a bike.  I stretch twice a day, every day, always. 

My Diet

My diet consists of organic produce, pastured meats, raw dairy, fermented foods, lots of water.     I shoot for 20% fat, 50% carbs, 30% protein.  Most of my carbs are in the form of vegetables and fruits.  If not, then whole grains.  I eat very little gluten.  No sodas, very little sugar.  I am not perfect.  I will have too much booze every once in a while and I have a weakness for tortilla chips, fresh bread and pasta.

Due to my inflammatory issues – I eat of lot of foods / supplements to offset this.  Cod Liver Oil, Chia, Flax, Green Tea, Turmeric, Ginger, Garlic, Vitamin C, Boswelia, Magnesium, Calcium etc.  I had a lot of success with this.  By race day, my shins were doing great.

I balance my calories with my activity.   (You can see why it’s frustrating to not lose weight, right?)
I am 5.7 and my body fat was 24% (about 6% higher than I prefer.) My weight when I started training was 172, my weight on race day was 165. I am comfortable at 145 – 150.  Carrying an extra 15 – 20 lbs around the course weighed heavily on my mind.  Yes, I know.  A pun.

My Clothing

My teammate bought us Mudder Orange Nike short sleeve compression shirts.  I wore Nike compression knee length pants and then for vanity and fat camouflage purposes I wore a runners skirt on top as well as a running pack over my belly.  These things only got in the way and I don’t think I was fooling anyone, so I won’t bother with those in the future.  I wore Thorlo running socks with a thin cushion.  I wanted something that wouldn’t slip, but wouldn’t get too soggy with all the mud I’d be slopping through.  Because I am a pronator, I couldn’t do the Trex shoes like a lot of mudders wear, so I stuck to my Asics and hoped for the best.  They were fine. Alot of people wear weight lifter's gloves, I went for the very tacky carpenter's gloves with the rubber blue grips.  Ugly, but I really liked having something cover my whole hand.

My Getting Ready Routine

I always allow at least an 1 ½ before I leave.  So I can relax, be in the right frame of mind, and not to be gross – but you want to make sure your toilet duties are taken care of.   I drank a Synergy Cherry Kombucha with Chia , ate a banana and drank two cups of coffee.  I took a 30 minute Epsom salt soak while I visualized myself being successful that day.  I reminded myself that the first 3 miles would suck as I tried to acclimate.  The middle part would be fun and the end part would be tiring and I would often feel defeated.  If I expected it, then I could overcome it.

I dressed carefully, made sure everything fit right – nothing rubbing or irritating. I covered my skin with coconut oil (my sunscreen of choice). I put a banana, an acai energy shot, some coconut butter in my back pack and filled my water bottle with water and added potassium drops.  I also brought a towel and flip flops.

Arriving

On the prep grounds, I sipped water , an FRS drink and took 3 advil (the only time I ever take NSAIDs).  I forgot my Acai energy shot in the car, so I took a pak of GU 20 minutes before race time.  This may have been the worst mistake I made.  The first hour of the race, my heart was beating crazy fast and I was super nauseous. 

Beginning

To get into the starting pen we had to climb a little 8 foot wall with a toe hold.  A year ago, I would have crawled over without thinking about it, but man…butt cramped, my ham string….  “Oh shit!” I thought.   Then we were asked to take a knee for our pep talk.  My friend and I looked at each other a little cross-eyed and I was relieved to know that I was not the only one in discomfort over this small task.  During our pep talk, the MC said “The kind of people who do Tough Mudders are people that when they are told they can’t do something say, ‘Bull Shit’.”  So true.  I hate being told I can’t do something.    I tried not to groan when I stood up.  

National Anthem, Tough Mudder Pledge and we were off.  I reminded myself of the last part of the pledge…I will not whine.  THIS is a reason to do the Tough Mudder.  We all can use a good test and not allow ourselves to whine.  We live in such a  “whoa is me” society.  It is really freeing to remove yourself from that sort of environment.

The Course

About 50 yards in we started the Death March(#1).  The super athletes run the hill, but the normal folk walk it.  We made it up…first obstacle down. 

My team mates hurled me over the two 12 foot Berlin Walls (#2 ) and I dropped unceremoniously on the other side…a little surprised that the landing didn’t hurt more and glad that I took the advil.

Onward – more hills – up and down, sucking in dust as we went, crazy beating heart..damn GU.

We Kissed The Mud (#3) by crawling under barbed wire for about 15 feet.  I emerged, thoroughly muddy with my number ripped partially off.  I looked at my team mates, they weren’t even dirty.  I was exhausted – sucking wind.  The Gladiator had a similar obstacle, but not after climbing a ½ mile hill. I was beginning to understand the devil of the Tough Mudder.  As we climbed the next hill I thought to myself, “WHAT IN FUCK WAS I THINKING?!” (Sorry, there are no sensors in my brain.)

Then I reminded myself that I knew the first 3 miles would be the worst.  “I can do it.” I said to myself.   “You can do it.” My team mates called to me.  They were reading my mind.  “Hoo Rah”  I returned hoarsely fighting the urge to vomit.   But I forced myself to notice that the brisk 36 degrees had given way to a sunny mid 60’s.  It really was a beautiful day.  High above the hills we could see the lake sparkling below.  Lovely.

A crawl through tunnels covered in hay (#4)…filled with water, muck and gravel.  Fun stuff.  Log Jammin (#5) was a series of stacked logs you crawled over and under….8 rows I think.  My legs and arms were shaking and in the fashion of a beached whale, I rolled over the top of each log, just hoping I didn’t misstep and fall to the ground.  I knew that to finish, I must be careful.  This also meant slow…but this is a challenge, not a race.  I hope my teammates didn’t mind me taking this so literally.  Earlier, I was wishing I had on a tank top, but I am now thankful for my compression short shirt sleeves. ..my revealed skin is scraped and stinging.

The next obstacle we came upon was another low belly crawl  – this time with live wires dangling underneath.  (#6)   My team mates went first – cursing and convulsing their way through.  I preferred to stay behind and observe, as became habit for all of the race.  As I lay down,  I saw that if I was very careful I could navigate between the wires.  And I did. 

Mile 3 –“This is where the Warrior Dash ends” read the sign “You’ve only just begun.”  It was like receiving permission to begin having fun.

The 1st rest stop consisted of water and the most terrible energy giving gummy bears I’ve ever eaten.  We agreed these bears were a challenge in and of themselves.  Our mantra became –“Bring on the bananas.”

Going down the steep narrow backed-up trails was a good time to befriend fellow Mudders.  There was a couple on their honeymoon, a  group of marines carrying a blow up dinosaur, a grey haired gentleman who was always smiling, several super heroes, and one unfortunate soul in camo-undies that just weren’t doing a great job of keeping him covered.

At the bottom of the hill we came upon the Funky Monkey (#7) .  I made one half-hearted attempt to use the bars, knew it wasn’t going to happen, and jumped in the water.  I forgot to expect it to be cold and came up making that fish face everyone loves to laugh at.  Next time I’ll conquer that beast.

Just a short jaunt away from there, we plunged into the arctic enema (#8).  A big container of ice water dyed green, with a board mounted midway through, so you have to go under.  Cold yes, but I managed nicely until….I tried to heave myself out of the container and could not budge.  I finally realized  my vanity pack was caught under the mounting board.  With the layer of ice on top and already numb legs, I couldn’t kick my legs out behind me.  I was chest deep in ice cold water.  I tried to yell for help, but could barely get a breath out.  Luckily, one of my teammates noticed me and ran back to haul me out.  That was a pitiful moment and though I did not realize it then, I dislocated 2 ribs and tore my obliques in that little fiasco.  All was made better when my teammate said, “OK.  I am now a girl.  I got nothin’.”  Ha ha …I guess when it comes to that obstacle, it is better to be a girl going in, since we’re all coming out as women anyway.  As we moved away, I noticed the marines on the side trying to resuscitate their dinosaur which had deflated…the ice had proved too much for that warrior.

Around mile 5, I was feeling pretty good and we came upon Walk the Plank (#9)…a 2 story platform above a big hole in the earth with more dyed green water.  Given that others had gone before us, I could only assume it was deep enough to jump in.  As I was climbing up, the marine on the platform said, I don’t even want you to think about it, just go.”  So as I reached the top he yelled. “GO! GO! GO!”  And I did.  It’s amazing how time freezes when you are in midair.  I knew there were two people insanely close to me also jumping.  I knew I didn’t know the depth so I put my legs in front of me. Then it was Wiley Coyote free fall and I got that sick roller coaster feel before I hit the water.  I sank down, got kicked in the shoulder by someone, briefly hit bottom, bobbled to the surface, did the fish face gasp,  flipped on my back and kicked to the beach.  FUN!  I would have done that one again.   

#10 was a series of 6 or 8 ditches about 3-4 feet wide that were meant to be jumped over in quick leaping succession.  Like many other girls, I ran up and lost my nerve.  Big mistake.  I should have just gone for it.  I had no idea if I could jump that far, but I could.  Next time, I won’t hesitate.

More run/walking – another gummy bear aid station.  Just say NO to gummy bears.  Then we crawled through the Boa Constrictor ( #11) which are sewer pipes filled with muck and water.  Onward to the other side of the lake…we climbed #12 – Cliff Hanger, which really wasn’t.  I think perhaps earlier in the day it was a muddy slippery mess, but by the time we reached it …it was just a bit of fun climbing up a mud hill and then having a rope web to aid the remaining climb.

Twinkle Toes (#13) presented a new challenge to me.  It is a balance beam across water, also electrified, if one grabs the beams, you will be shocked, so just don’t grab the beams.  Apparently a lot of people were hurt on this one b/c they expected deep water.   My legs were so wobbly at this point that I fell in after a few steps and trudged my way out.  One of our teammates made it, the other was nearly there and then down he went, much to his disgust.  

The second set of Berlin Walls (#14) were shorter – maybe 10 feet tall…thus no one remains behind to help the weaklings get over.  I stepped on Mark’s hands and he shoved me over best he could.  I made it.  But what I found most ironic about this was on the other side, even though I was closer to the ground, I fell flat on my butt.  As I attempted the second wall, I said, “I’m just going to go around.”  “No you aren’t.”  my friend said.  And that was that.  Over I went, again I fell on my butt.   And on we went.

More hills – up and down, up and down.  I had met one of my team mates, only that morning, so it was nice to pass the time getting to know each other a little better.  Both of these men were very accommodating, not pushing me, only encouraging.  Shouting our team name “Dufresne” from the hill tops to help me along.  (Dufresne refers to the main character of Shawshenk Redemption who crawled through 500 yards of shit for freedom.  I love it.)

Around mile 7, finally an AID station with Bananas – how we LOVE bananas more than energy bears.

Devil’s Beard (#15) – walking under a net….only served as a reminder that any type of extra activity just made me breathe harder.  Spider Web (#16) consisted of those rope webs they love so much, hanging vertically in the air.  Strong people sit below and stretch them taunt to make them easier to crawl over, and they were.  The only tricky part is getting over the top, b/c it tends to lean at the top and you have to shift your body weight if you aren’t able to just swing yourself over. Hold Your Wood (#17) meant picking up a log of varying sizes and carrying it about a quarter mile up a hill and back down again.  I admit, I wimped out and felt no need to carry big wood.  Of course, all the guys choose to over compensate.  ;)  

Round about mile 9 we came upon one of the last big hills.  I had to stop and rest several times and even became a bit discouraged.  Then I remembered what I was doing this for…not just for me, but also raising money for the Wounded Warrior fund.  “Many a man and woman has done harder things than this for me.” I thought  “I can do this.”  So I did.  At the top we let out a Primal Scream.  (Actually, that Primal Scream might have been at the top of the hill around mile 7, but there were SO many I just can’t really recall.)

It was also around this time that my clothes dried and realized I had a lot of sand in my pants…which prompted some singing in our group.  There were also big strong men, dropping like flies with leg cramps.  Men that I am sure had helped me along the way.  We passed out gu and coconut butter to those in need and helped in any way we could, if only an encouraging word.  I received so much encouragement along the way – not only from my teammates, but from fellow mudders as well.  This is the spirit of the Tough Mudder and what sets it apart from all other events.

#18 was our Mystery Obstacle.  The photo caused quite a stir on facebook, but in actuality it was one of the easiest things I did all day.  We just placed our hands on one side, feet on the other and crab walked across.  Really TMHQ?  I thought you’d have more to offer. 

We stomped through the marsh awhile, reminding me of summers at friend’s farms in upstate New York.  Then we crossed a finger of the lake using ropes which apparently was not counted as an obstacle, but seemed to be the undoing of a few.  One marine and his wife were with me for a good portion of the trip.  He went in first and she followed. About 4 feet in, the bottom  dropped and we swam.  She suddenly turned around with eyes as big as saucers and went back to shore.  “You lost your lady!”  I shouted.  The thing about the Mudder, is everyone has different fears.  What is easy for one person, is hard for another.  Her husband didn’t berate her…he simply turned and joined her back on shore….encouraging her and showing her how she could hold the rope to get safely across.  

The marines ran by me with their pitifully flat dinosaur in a stretcher…leave no man behind, after all.

We had one more water cross in knee deep water that brought us back to the spectator viewing area.  As I came out of the water, I saw my husband and kids standing on shore…a beautiful sight.  Less than a mile to go and we were nearly home.  We were treated to a slip n slide (#19).  True Mudder’s go head first, I opted to be an un true mudder and slid down on my bottom.  I was rewarded with a fire hose to the face all the way down.  Next time I’ll be a True Mudder.

The Under water tunnels (#20) were an obstacle I was looking forward to.  I enjoy being in the water and thought this was something I could do without issue.  I was SO SO wrong.  I think above all other obstacles, this one scared me the most and I had the hardest time talking myself into doing it.  All I had to do was swim under a floating barrel.  Swim a few yards and repeat 2 more times.  But for whatever reason, I could not make myself swim under those barrels without several seconds of courage building.  Strange.  But I still did it, eventually.

Everest (#21) is a quarter pipe.  Muddied and 18 feet tall.  The idea is to run up it, grab the edge and pull yourself up.  My first team mate did so as if he had wings.  It was amazing.  My second team mate did it with near equal ease.  Then it was my turn.  I watched another girl, much younger and thinner than I, run, fail, and slide down…not one, but four times.  I watched a guy smack his face on the ramp and bleed.  “Dear God, please don’t let that be me.”  Enough was enough….I ran as fast as I could (not very) and I jumped as high as I could (not very) but it was high enough.  Craig grabbed my arm and said, “I will not let you fall.”  And he didn't, but I was stuck. I had no strength to swing my legs up.  It seemed like an eternity that I dangled from that wall.  But eventually reinforcements were called in and if I had been less exhausted I may have been humiliated by that experience, but I was just so glad to be on top of that friggin quarter pipe and so thankful that Craig didn't let go.

The last traditional obstacle is Shock Therapy (#22).  There is much hype around this and many people will tell you it is unsafe.  Some people really get rocked by it.  In the days leading up to the Mudder, I was most afraid of this moment.  We had agreed to run through with locked arms.  But again – I needed a moment to survey and chickened out.  They went ahead of me – running and convulsing…but through.  So I went…zapped yes, but I did not fall.  I made it through. 

Team Dufresne linked arms and crossed the finish line.  4 hours.  11 (or was it 12?  No one was sure) miles.  21 official Obstacles….many more unofficial ones.  

The Aftermath

The morning after the Mudder I could not move without really severe pain.  This from the girl who knows ALL about pain.  “I’m glad I did it, but I don’t know if I want to do it again.” I told my husband.   The following day, I started thinking about how I would revamp my training plan so that I can be a Tougher Mudder in July.

Every part of my body (except my shins – ironically) was sore.  I was covered in bruises – particularly nasty ones on my inner thighs and arms.  My ribs were bruised, dislocated and the attached muscles torn and swollen .  My left arm was a little out of place.  It took a visit to a chiro, a lot of anti-inflammatories  and about 4 weeks to get back to normal.

I started my thyroid therapy in hopes of being 20 lbs thinner in July, but it I’m not…I’m not.  I’ll still be a Tough Mudder.

We Interrupt This Regularly Scheduled Life to Whine For A Bit

170 lbs!  One Hundred and SEVENTY freakin' pounds!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  WTF?!!!!  Last winter I broke my shoulder and shuddered as the pounds piled on during my depressive inactive state.  But as spring sprung and my shoulder healed I was able to return to my healthy lifestyle.  Over the summer, I admit I tried and failed at many flash quick fix diets that I KNOW I shouldn't try....so desperate was I.  I'd lose a few and then gain them back.  I was not getting in the cardio I needed in order to lose, I was only doing my maintenance workouts and then wondering WHY I wasn't losing weight.  duh.

As the end of summer came around I jumped on a boot camp wagon and was working out avidly and eating well.  I gained 4 lbs.  "It's muscle." my people said to me.  Bullshit.  Muscle it is NOT...unless it is muscle making  my muffin top grow daily. 

Something is wrong.   How can I exercise 5 times a week, eat a balanced and healthy diet and still be gaining weight?  It just doesn't add up. (Well, actually it does...all on my stomach and butt) What has changed?
To pile on more drama, my old injuries are all flaring up...shin splints, popping ribs etc.  However, I don't suffer from the exhaustion that I did before.  I'm flummaxed.  I visited a Naturpath and have been doing some research on my own as well.

These are the possibilities I'm considering and waiting for all the labs to come back...but the waiting is killing me!

1.  Adrenal Fatigue revisited?  - don't think so, I'm not exhausted
2.  Hypothyroid?  Maybe -- I have had hair loss, low temp...but not ALL of the symptoms.  And so far my lab work turns out normal.  But I'm hearing that lab work isn't always a true indicator of these things.  May require further investigation.
3.  I'm 40 now and life will become pure hell in an effort to remain active.  I refuse to accept that answer, though on certain days I feel doomed.  Especially after "friends" make ignorant and hurtful comments who can't possibly understand what I'm going through.  I'm generally a pretty confident person.  But there are definitely days when I want to smack down the skinny people.
4.  My bio-identical hormone patch.  Could it be the culprit?  Come to think of it -- I started this patch a year ago and that's when I seemed to start having trouble keeping the pounds off.  My Naturpath tends to agree and is having me do this 30 day liver detox to clean out my system and get a true reading of my hormone levels.  I agree that detoxing once a year is a good thing, and taking a break from analyzing everything I put in my mouth is fun too.  The no wheat, no caffeine, no sugar, no dairy (except raw or cultured) I can get on board with and isn't MUCH different from my usual diet.  The no meat (even fish) part kills me.  I did get a special dispensation to eat my pastured beef so I don't become anemic (which my first round of labs said I already was, again.) My protein intake is down by about 10- 15% and I feel it puts the muscle I've worked so hard for, at risk.  I mean, the more muscle you have the more calories you can burn, right?  I dunno -- my studies with the GCNM tell me, that we don't need that much protein.  I'm SO confused!  This detox definitely is messing with my mind.
5.  I'm still in a quandry over the nonfat/lofat/lotsafat research I've been doing.  Studies say that if you eat healthy fats as 30% of your diet that it won't make you fat, but in fact will help you lose weight.  Given that I'm 25 lbs heavier since I started eating more fat, I'm not sold on this.  However, I found it REALLY interesting that my cholesterol has dropped 20 points in the past 2 years.  Very interesting indeed. 

In the meantime I signed myself up to participate in this crazy race called the Tough Mudder with a bunch of men who are certain to be dragging me behind by the end of the race.  What was I thinking?  Well...at the time I thought I was ramping up again and was ready to be in tip top shape by next February.  Fast forward 2 months and I'm still struggling.  wuh-oh  Better find my mojo and quick.  It's somewhere buried in these 25 lbs, I'm sure of it.

So now that I've drawn out the clouds in the detail, it's time to do some rainbow hunting:

1. Even though I'm puffy, I'm still not as puffy as I was 5 years ago.  I am in far better health that I was then.
2. This journey is leading me to a better understanding of proper nutrition and will probably make me a more compassionate and knowledgeable Nutritional Consultant.
3. I am exercising ALOT.  And that is good.  I especially enjoy the tennis I play with my son and the swimming I'm doing with my daughter.  I've also got a nice network of friends to exercise with, which is a very important motivating factor.
4. My husband never makes me feel fat and he always loves as much of me or as little of me as there is.
 

Time for a Change and Where I'm From

So the past few years I've used Live Journal as my journal of choice.  But lately it just seems to be too un-user friendly. Peer pressure and all things google bring me to Blogger.  So what better way to start my new journal than by this self discovery exercise I did last night after copying it from my friend's blog. (Thank you Tami...yours was beautiful)  I've been a bit of an insomniac of late, so there's nothing like delving deep into the past and giving memories a stir at 2 am...it didn't help me sleep, but it was fun anyway.

If you'd like to do one of these, visit the template. I'd love to read what you write.

Like most things I do, it's more long winded than it should be...but whatever.

Where I'm From....

The second house my Dad built in Jonesboro Arkansas.  We moved in when I was 7.  The same age my children are now.

I am from fuel efficient tiny cars that took trips across countless states while I figured out arrival time and drank welch’s grape juice from a glass bottle. I am from imagery like petrified geysers, majestic mountains, mustangs on golden plains, and Gary, Indiana. 

I am from mixed tapes of 70’s and 80’s rock, pop and country.

I am from homes we built and homes we made.  Neighborhood kickball in rural Arkansas,  ice skating in gray Erie PA, and basketball in Silicon Valley. I am from a twin bed in a room with faux painted matching furniture and a radio under my pillow at night. 

I am from the weeds I pulled with Mama in our Brookland garden, the smell of puppy feet, baby bunnies found in the barberry bushes, grapevines tied in the bitter cold. I am from fruit picking and the tomatoes I crushed the day my sister stuck her wet hand too close to the electrical socket.

 

I am from family prayers on Friday nights and stacked wood. From Jacobs and Hull who came together after a 5 day engagement. 

I am from a home that was always ready for visitors and dinners around the table that lasted as long as I could put off eating my frozen peas.

 

I am from whispers of "behave" during church and "every extra penny spent is that many more you'll have to save" to support my Dad in his old age.

 

I am from a place where God had a lot of rules that set us apart.  I am from a religion that opened the door to London & Loch Lomond, spending summers on the back of horses, cycling around Texas, and canoeing upper Minnesota lakes.  It seemed a fair trade.

I'm from Little Rock, Palo Alto, Michigan, Texas, and North Carolina…from England, Holland and the Cherokee nation. From homemade spaghetti sauce, freshly baked cinnamon rolls and exploding bottles of root beer in the basement.  

From a history that includes Buffalo Bill Cody. From the pessimism and frugality born of the Great Depression.  From the pride of  service and the satisfaction of work well done. From Betty who was broken, but still roared. Who somehow, I could always understand, and reminds me daily of proper priorities. From John who loved to fly.  From C.R., my Go Fish mentor, who worried and saved. From Erma expert marksman, crochet-er of orange poncho's and rider of giant tricycle. She lost her memories, but never her humor. From a hidden marriage and divorces. From a crowded family that traveled by plane more than cars and two little boys with a cranky dachshund named Fritz. 

I am from a pipe still filled with grampa's tobacco, pie pans, collectible plates, published autobiographies, letters of love and hurt, a pink glass tea set and a doll named Nana.  

I am from mysteries, coarseness, silence and abuse.  But more so, I am from lessons learned, respect, determination and love.