Together

“You have no food. You have no family. You have no friends around you.” 

That was the text I received from one of my friends on Thanksgiving. 

I didn’t get mad because I knew my friend was wrong.

 

For the seventh straight year I was spending Thanksgiving alone in my apartment. I posted a Thanksgiving photo of myself dressed in a turkey costume on my socials wishing everyone a Happy Thanksgiving. I sent a few texts to friends and family. I even received some pleasantries friends and family as well. I slept in. I had a “healthy” breakfast of Coco Puffs. I even spent 4 hours reading a good book! The morning was going great! 

 

Until I received the text from above. It was shocking and not my preference to be on the receiving end. Nor did I think I deserved to be. I tried to let it go, wishing my friend a good day. But I couldn’t let it go because although word-for-word it was true; it wasn’t actually true.

 

For the first time in seven Thanksgivings, I didn’t feel alone. I felt…together. Even though I’ve had a lot of ups and downs lately, I felt right where I should be, even by myself. I was perfectly okay.

 

The more I thought about her words, the more I disagreed. I did have food. I might not eat much or bought the traditional Thanksgiving meal; I had the food I wanted and needed. Whereas there’s so many people around our country and world that would love to have a taste of the food I had. 

 

She was right, I had no family…in my apartment. But she didn’t know I had already talked to my brother in length that morning. The days prior, I had talked to my parents separately at least 4 times during the week. I knew where they were spending their Thanksgiving. I felt together with them, even from afar. 

 

As for my friends, I received and sent a few texts to my closest friends. Friends don’t typically spend Thanksgiving Day together anyway. They spend it on the new “holiday”, Friendsgiving. I’m thankful to be surrounded by friends near and far. The friends I do have, we’re very close. So, the truth is…I felt together with food, family, and friends.

 

The last three months are a wonderful time of the year because we’re together with friends, family, and lots of food every month! It’s a time to celebration and togetherness. It’s not a time to put each other down, but rather raise each other up and remind each other through the good and bad, we are there for each other. It should never be forced or assumed what someone needs. Let’s come together and accept each other’s imperfections, have compassion, and have courage to do the right thing.

 

On Thanksgiving Day, even being alone, I felt I was more than enough. I felt together with friends and family near and far away! 

Changing Seasons

The leaves are turning colors

The weather is cooling

The days are getting shorter

Friendships are…changing

 

            It’s a wonderful time of the year! The final three months are full of holidays and celebrations! The more the leaves change (everywhere except Florida), everyone gets the craving for cooler weather, flannel shirts, and pumpkin spice everything. It’s a very exciting time! There’s so much joy!

 

            For me, that always means at least one friendship changes. For whatever reason, every October, I lose a close friend that I’ve gotten close with. … I checked Facebook today and one of my memories mentions how difficult October was. Then I thought back to that year and sure enough I said goodbye to a close friend I cared about. 

 

            This year, it’s been no different. Another friendship is coming to a close. To be honest, I’m struggling with saying goodbye to it. We’ve had this friendship for years! We’ve hung out a few times, communicated daily in multiple ways. They’ve were my best friend! Then suddenly, I got a text that hit me a like a train. Ever since, I’ve been wilting. 

 

            I’ve had a lot of time to reflect and wonder. The more this friendship changes it’s very comparable to the seasons changing from the perspective of a plant. 

 

            Throughout this friendship, there’s been a lot of growth from both of us. From where we started years ago to now, we could’ve never guessed what our friendship was the better part of this year. We have grown a lot, I’m proud of far we’ve come. To see my friend thriving is a beautiful thing to behold.

 

            Water and sunshine are necessary. My friend was going through a lot of things personally, and I was there for whatever she needed. I was happy to help wherever I could. She would do the same for me. It was amazing to see the results when we both needed the other one. We were there for the other on sunny days and the rainy days. 

 

            As the seasons change, plants start to wilt, especially this time of the year. This year’s blooms are done and cold is starting to take over. That’s when it’s important to remember the good times. The blooms during the spring and summer months. That’s how it was with our friendship. There were many highlights during these last few years. Memories that’ll remember for the rest of my life! I’ll cherish those.

 

            The hard part is sometimes no matter how bad you want it to flourish, no matter how hard you work for it: the time, the effort, the nurturing, and the love poured in, some friendships won’t survive, just like plants. It won’t make sense in the moment, but you’re lucky, you’ll learn why later it didn’t make it. It’s not that you did anything wrong (it’s possible that you did), sometimes things just don’t work.

 

            The most important thing to remember during this new season is that it won’t last forever. It may some seem like it, but it won’t. The days will keep going. Time will keep passing second by second. You’ll continue learn from it and keep moving. Then…when the timing is just right, when you’re ready, when everything is just right for you, you’ll sprout again! That’ll be a marvelous season! As I embark on this new season, I’m wilting again, but know when the timing is just right, I’ll be ready to bloom again. That’s what I’m looking forward to!

Imposter

“This year’s winner of the teacher of the year is…MR. POTRZEBA!”

 

I remember the butterflies I felt seconds before I received the applause and flowers. Then I distinctly remembering all the incredible teachers at my school that were nominated for the award, but didn’t win; many of which, inspired me to be the teacher I currently am. Hidden under my smile felt like I was an imposter amongst the crowd of teachers.

 

Two weeks ago, I ran in my monthly race. It was a 5k. I ran 3.1 miles averaging a 5:51 per mile pace. That’s very fast! When one of the coordinators asked what my secret was, I shook my head and said “I don’t know? I only run 2-3 times week and don’t have a good diet.” His jaw dropped in disbelief. It got me thinking, maybe it isn’t fair of me to run so well and do so much less than other runners. I felt like an imposter again. 

 

It was hard to accept such a prestigious award knowing many days I do not perform like a “teacher of the year.” As a matter of a fact, days ago I had parent threaten to remove their child from my class. (If you knew that parent, then you’d know she has a history of doing this and that I’m not the problem.) Admin and an officer witnessed the exchange and escorted her away. When my principal named a new 4^th grade team leader this month, she didn’t choose me. Both of these, deep down, stung a little.

 

To put the cherry on top, myself and 11,038 were emailed yesterday that despite our times being fast enough Boston Marathon Qualifying times, due to limited field size and spots reserved for charities, all 11,039 of us will not be running in our dream race in 2024: the Boston Marathon. The sweat, mileage, pain, traveling, effort I did I wasn’t good enough. It still hurts as I’m typing this. 

 

And finally, there’s many decisions looming during and after this current school year. What school I teach at? Where will I live? What apartment complex should I live in next? When will I run my next marathon? Do I opt for surgery on my left ankle? Do I move cities or states? Should I move closer to friends, family, or elsewhere? I just feel like an imposter knowing how confused I am currently. These thoughts weigh on me heavily daily.

 

Every teacher is a teacher of the year to one student out there. We’ve made an impact on countless lives that we’ll never know. That’s an incredible feeling. Every teacher deserves to be teacher of the year and they are unnoticeably to our students! For me, being voted as this year’s recipient means I represent our school, our teachers, and most importantly, our students. The award is an inspiration from the thousands of students I’ve taught and a culmination of great teaching I’ve learned from my past and current colleagues and lots of books and PDs. I’m honored to be this year’s recipient and will always hold it near and dear to my heart.

 

Running wise, the amount weekly mileage one does, nor running in the Boston Marathon define who they are, including me. It’s the fact when you lace up your shoes, lift one foot up, and stide out with your arms you are now a runner. One race will not discredit the hundreds of races I’ve participated in. Many people dream of running in Boston will never be able to because of the fast-qualifying times you must run to be in the consideration. As for me: for my first marathon I ran under my Boston Marathon qualifying time by 88 seconds and PRed my mileage by over 6 miles. That’s something I’ll always be proud of. And by the way…I’m not giving up on running Boston in 2025! I. Ain’t. Done! 

 

As for my future decisions, I’ll continue to take things day by day and enjoy the ride I’m currently on. I don’t want to miss the incredible things in front of my eyes. This month alone, I did THREE classroom transformations in 4 weeks. IT. WAS. AWESOME! The kids loved it. I loved it! One weekend, I took a getaway trip to see college football and baseball with my friend! My skin was burnt, but my spirit was high. It was such a fun trip that I’m glad I made. I’ll keep preparing for what the future might be, while enjoying the present roller coaster of a life I’m currently living!

 

The Imposter syndrome is always going to be knocking at your door. It might come from a co-worker, a friend, a parent, or in your mind. And know you’re not alone, fight it with your friends and family and seek extra help too. Reading, running, and traveling are some of my favorites. Always remember, you are not an imposter. YOU are perfectly you! Keep being you! 

Autonomy

My heart is breaking as I type this. I feel that my grip on my classroom is less and less by the days and by each passing school year. Recently, as I leaving to go home, I looked back at my classroom one last time and thought to myself, “My classroom doesn’t feel like mine anymore.” Rather than jamming out to music and skipping down the hallway, I put my head down and shed a few tears as I walked away. 

 

That phrase is likely one that resonates with many educators. A classroom that simply isn’t theirs despite the teaching, the hours, the money, the laughs, and tears shed that have been spent it over the years. Education continues to change as fast as the world around us.

 

I remember my first years of teaching. They were my happiest years! I was such a risk taker! I was working nonstop. I was living and breathing education, not because I had to, but because I WANTED to! I was reading PD books more than I was eating vegetables! I was doing twitter chats constantly, always ready to learn! I loved being at school all the time! It was a special time period. One that I thought would last my entirety in education. 

 

Fast forward to year eight. I’m still happy! I still skip down hallways, dress up in outfits, and do room transformations. I’m also still attending PDs and of course, reading constantly! I still enjoy teaching. I love all my students and hold them near and dear to my heart. If everything is so rosy still, then why not end the blog here? Well…

 

Not so fast! Unfortunately, the autonomy teachers have in our classroom is going away. What I mean is that our freedom to do what’s best for our class of students. Some schools want teachers in the same grade level to be teaching the same way and doing the exact same small groups at the exact same time. Some schools require teachers to submit their lessons well in advance. While other schools require teachers who have ideas for their lessons to email their academic coach and/or principal to get approval before implementing those ideas with lessons in their own classroom. Other schools force teachers to use specific curriculum and resources.

 

All this breaks my heart. Our profession is dying. Teachers, because of similar reasons above and countless others not mentioned are leaving the best profession. There are many solutions, but the topic for today is autonomy. Let teachers have autonomy in their classroom for their students. I’ve heard principals say teachers know their students best and should do what’s best for them, but those same principals don’t let their teachers do what’s best. 

 

Allowing teachers freedom and trust can go a long way. Don’t you remember having a last-minute idea, whether it was for a lesson or even a trip that your plans changed for the better? I do! Some of my best lessons (especially during student teaching) were when I was studying the next day’s/week’s lesson plan and a more engaging standard-based idea for engagement popped up in my head. Can you imagine if you had to get those ideas approved a week in advance? My mentor teachers weren’t always thrilled, but they trusted me, and most times the ideas worked out great! 

 

Think about the power we have as teachers. Now think about the power principals have. Better yet, think about the power superintendents have. Imagine a school where principals and teachers have a balanced autonomy! It gets me excited just thinking about it because it would do three things and probably more! Autonomy builds culture and individuality amongst teachers! It retains teachers! Teachers could teach in a way that’s best for their classroom will keep staying at their school. And finally, autonomy will bring in teachers! I left a great school after just one year to come to my current school because the principal (now former principal) Dr. Vazquez did a great job with giving autonomy within classrooms and a great school culture.

 

Autonomy lets teachers teach in engaging ways that are best for their individual students needs! Autonomy might just be a lifesaver in an ever-dying profession.  

Summertime Smile

“You have a really beautiful smile!” a random stranger said to me this summer. It was at that moment I knew just how happy I currently was.

 

One of the perks of being a teacher is having summers off. Some schools actually are full time and get weeks off throughout the calendar year, rather than in bulk during June and July. For those of us that are lucky to June and July off, we work extremely hard fit 12 months of progress and learning into 10 months. Moreso, because of teachers are underpaid, some don’t take summers off, but rather take on second jobs: tutor, summer school, cashiers, waitress, sell resources online, and more. This summer I was one of the lucky ones that took it off completely. 

 

If you read my June blog, thank you! If you didn’t, then you might not know that I finished up my school year, packed for a day, then flew to Salt Lake City, Utah to run in my first marathon! If you want to know more about it, I recommend you read my June 2023 blog! It was great experience worth reading in depth.

 

Unless you were one of the lucky ones, you likely don’t know what happened to the rest of my summer. I wanted to keep my summer a surprise until now. It was rather magical and memorable! Here’s why I had a Summertime Smile!

 

After the marathon my dad and I headed south to hike in the Utah wilderness! Over a few days, we explored many national parks including: Zion, Bryce Canyon, Capitol Reef, and Arches National Park. Zion Park was brutal (for me) since we hiked some of it the day after my marathon. It was an opportunity of a life and I couldn’t say no, sorry legs. …Bryce and Arches are my favorites. The orange color surrounding your hike is something you really don’t see many places. Bryce had a lot of it, lots of mythical stories, and breathtaking views. And Arches…had arches. But the size and structure of each arch was so unique! One arch, the Landscape Arch, is the second largest arch in the world and on the verge of collapse. Having visited Utah a decade ago, it’s always been one of my favorite states, but now solidified itself even more! 

 

After days hiking in Utah, my dad and I made an attempt to visit Mesa Verde National Park in Colorado. We made it to the park and saw some of the homes the Puebloans had built…but for a short time. We were rained out on a cliff with others. My dad darling navigated us back down to road level and we made it to our hotel safely. 

 

With Mesa Verde washed out, we were ready to be home. The next morning, we made the ambitious decision to drive 14 hours straight home from the edge of Colorado to the eastern point of Nebraska. Driving through Alamosa and Pagosa Springs, Colorado brought back bad, but funny memories from over a decade ago. The pain still reigns to this day, but my dad and I love telling the stories. Luckily, we saw Colorado snow and rushing rivers to bring back happier memories. Colorado is another favorite state of mine because of the snowcapped mountains and nature all around you. But the truth is, my happiest memory the next day just after midnight when we made it home to the sight of my mom and childhood cat. 

 

Over the next 2 weeks, I spent time with my parents, my siblings, grandma, aunts, uncles, my niece, and nephew. It felt refreshing to see them all again. It’s never something I take for granted living so far away and everyone getting older. It was a fun time! We didn’t do as much touristy things since we’ve done those things on my previous visits. But some things will never change. My mom and I always make it a point to watch scary movies together. My dad and I watch the Kansas City Royals lose ballgame after ballgame. We also did many other things like shopping for new clothes, going to a AAA baseball game, playing with my niece and nephew, going to the College World Series, and of course…eating at Raising Cane’s. It’s never so much about the activities, but rather the time and conversations with my family that I always cherish.

 

Leaving Nebraska gets harder every time. But now it was time to spend the next month in Florida. A day after landing back in Florida, I watched the Royals lose in person to the Tampa Bay Rays. I had great seats and the Rays really do a good job entertaining the fans.

 

With new clothes just unpacked from the trip, it was time to donate my old ones. I was clearly ready to because I donated a mountain (no exaggeration) of clothes. Then over the next days, I overhauled my apartment completely. I opened up every nook and cranny deciding what to keep or discard. I threw out or donated more items than I imagined. It felt like a fresh start. 

 

Rewarding myself I made a trip to the beach, started reading a PD book a day for a week, and watching a movie a night for a few weeks. I even contacted my apartment complex for them to clean my living room windows that were barely visible out of. I kept my monthly race streak alive by running a brutally hot 10k in northern Florida. For a night, I visited many of my social media friends at a resort hotel, who were about to embark on an education cruise. It was great to see many of them again. I felt like a celebrity in their presence. A day later, I treated myself to a lunch at Carrabba's. I had a $50 gift card from a race to use up. It was a big step eating by myself at a sit-down restaurant. It was delicious and I’m proud of myself for doing it. 

 

Then a week of planning and learning ensued. Yep, I was back at school to work on math and science plans with my favorite teammates for this coming school year. For one of the days, I was fortunate to go to a LEGO training. It was incredible! I’m excited to use Legos this year and the best part, they gave us our own kit! (One kit cost $500.)

 

Last but not least, my friend and I spent the week together. It was nothing but fun! A trip to the Clearwater beach, shopping at outlet malls, drinks at Bahama Breeze, getting rained on outside of Ikea, dinner and a card game at Bonefish Grill, movie marathons, and of course a full day at Magic Kingdom. The fun part about MK is that I’ve been there at night and in the morning (Disney half marathon), but never during the daylight. I even became a Disney Passholder! Spending time with your friends is fun. Spending time with your friends is the BEST! The day at Magic Kingdom was truly magical! I now own: a Monster Inc. Airpods case, 2 Disney hats, 3 Disney shirts, 3 Disney ties, a Disney lanyard, and a Buzz Lightyear action figure just like from the movies. Hey! It’s all for school…right?! 

 

This past week I went to Epcot to ride the rides I hadn’t ridden, bought another hermit crab, and two more unique plants to help gear up for the BEST SCHOOL YEAR EVER! This summer I was nothing but a good time. Lots of laughs, good food, tall drinks, waves and water, sight-seeing in the wilderness, playing hide and seek with my niece and nephew, money spent on things for me (did I mention I have a new MacBook I’m typing this on?), and smiles, lots of smiles! It was nothing but a sweet Summertime! It’s a summer I’ll always remember! 

              

                    Enjoy some photos from my summer!

Marathon

“You can only say once that in your first marathon you qualified for the Boston Marathon. Today you’re going to qualify for the Boston Marathon. Today is a good day to qualify for it.”

– a stranger sitting next to me on a bus.

 

 

I had been itching to run a marathon since middle school. Running the marathon was something I wanted to do at least twice: run my first marathon and run the Boston Marathon. My dad being a runner himself, put one restriction on my marathon aspirations. My first marathon would be run after high school if I don’t run collegiately. I went on to run collegiately, thus further delaying my first marathon. After finishing out my collegiate running career in May 2016, I turned my attention to my teaching career and slowed down my milage immensely. 

 

Four years later, the itch was back, and I was ready to chase 26.2 miles. I signed up in the Grandma’s Marathon for June of 2020, which was the same place I ran my first half marathon. It would be a great culmination. On January 29, 2020, I suffered a setback that sidelined me for months, add on the Covid pandemic, and foot surgery in September 2020 and marathon was a total loss. Despite my success in physical therapy and a strong mindset, my doctors and I still had doubts if I’d ever be able to run as fast as I used to. Surgery was deemed successful, but pain and a scar were everlasting reminders that running a marathon was not in my near future.

 

On March 2021, I ran my first 5k race post-surgery and it did not go according to plan. All my training was not enough, fatigue set in faster, my body wasn’t ready, and I was late to the starting line. I finished a disappointing third overall. That was a low point in my life (with other things I was going through) and I knew I needed to make changes immediately. I reflected and continued to rebuild my mindset. The changes I made are in my past blogs, which have helped me be a happier version of my current self.

 

Over the sequential months, I started running more frequently. In November 2021 I ran my second race and ran much better this time. On December 2021, I ran my third race, which grew my confidence even more. January 2022 was my fourth race. February 2022 was my fifth race. You can see where this going. Every month I ran a race. November 2022 would my first half marathon near the Kennedy Space Center. In January 2023, I ran the Disney half marathon, my favorite half marathon that I recommend for all runners and walkers! Last month’s May race marked my 19 month in a row of racing; a year of half plus. It’s an accomplishment I’m proud of that I’m going to keep going as long as I can. I missed an entire year of running in 2020 due to an injury and the pandemic. I will never take it for granted anymore. 

 

Now the day was here: June 3^rd, 2023. 

 

Alarm buzzing

Shower sizzling

Deodorant swiping

Hair gel glistening 

Mirror staring

Race-bib donning

Music blaring

Palm-written handwriting

Black shorts wearing

Socks snuggling

Saucony shoes tightening

Nebraska-born runner

 

 

My dad walked me to a wall of yellow rectangles on a nearby street at 3:40. We said our final goodbyes as I gave him a fist pound and my only source of communication: my phone (it would receive text alerts as I crossed certain checkpoints on the course, which would help him and my family know who I’m doing.) 

 

I made my way to the middle of bus looking for any stranger daring to make eye contact with me, but no one did, so I sat down where there was an open seat next to a man. He looked more like a motorcycle rider, but I knew and respected that all runners come in a different looks, sizes, and shapes. If you were on any of those buses, you were a runner! He greeted me and immediately asked if this was my first marathon. How could he have known? Was it that obvious? I told him it was and that my daunting goal was to qualify for the Boston Marathon. His response was the first quote you read in this blog. Over the course of the hour-long trip up the mountain, he shared about his family and we exchanged race stories while continuing to build my confidence that no matter the pain I was in. He was determined that I was going to hit the Boston Marathon qualifying time. He even mentioned overcoming a tibia surgery, which ironically just happened to my best friend days prior. By the end of the bus ride, I was starting to believe, just ever so slightly, I might qualify for Boston today. When started to leave the bus, we noticed we were wearing the same new Saucony shoes, released a few months ago. We both have good taste. We said our goodbyes and continued on our separate way.

 

A gauntlet of flames greeted us as we got off the bus in the dark sky. No, this wasn’t hell. It was the campsite to keep us warm while we waited 90 minutes to begin running. Rows of bathrooms, bushels of bananas, and aluminum foil wrapped runners surrounded the wood fences. It was a peaceful atmosphere …until 20 minutes before the race. Runners raced to the trucks to load their gear bag, lines of antsy last minute bathroom goers waited, and eager runners ran before the race to stay warm. I was all three of these types. 

 

I jogged to the start. Looking for a tall stick with an orange rectangle that read “3:00 hour”. No sign was seen so I lined up with about 10 rows back of people in front of me. A runner next to me goes, “Well…if we get passed by the 3:05 group, then we’ll know we’re running too slow.” Suddenly, a man in an orange jumpsuit waving the “3:00 hour” sign showed up. Claps and smiles greeted him. Relief was on my face, but not for long. 10…9…8…7…6…5…4…

 

3… my heart starts racing

2… my eyes start dialing in

1… my hand moves to my watch

 

BOOM! The race has begun! A cannon goes off! We’re all running as if a bunch of pigs were just released from their pigpen and they’re free. (Is that right expression? Lol) Watches are beeping. I start my watch. Runners are parading a rural farming street in Wallsburg, Utah! Legs and arms are moving horizontally. It’s the start of three hours of running, I hope. All is right.

 

Horses galloping

Runners running

Ranchers waving

 

The first miles are easy. They always are. Lots of optimism reigns in the air. We’re in a pack of 20-30 runners, hunting for Boston. The runners are chatty more than I’m accustomed to. Everyone has a story to share. We all come different locations: California, Florida, Utah, Arizona; but we’ve converged on the same mission. Even I share my story. Very few of us in the pack have never ran a marathon, but we’re just as hungry to prove our worth to the others. 

 

The countryside is beautiful. Fields alfalfa wave in the breeze. Horses and donkeys roam. Wood fences align the course. Old buildings and modern ranch houses decorate the sidelines. Police escort us on our way into Prove, Utah. 

 

Mile 7 is when our marathon, becomes a marathon. The first 6 miles were easy, gradually going down in elevation in the Utah mountain country roads. Now it’s time for the first test. When we turn a lefthand corner, our pack of runners changes immediately as we get on a highway as we race up to the sun in the cloudless sky. Runners fall back, while others like me, claw our way up difficult miles 7 and 8. When we get to the top of the hill, our pack has thinned. One particularly talkative runner has vanished, but there’s no looking back. We’re less than hour in.

 

Miles later we make our way to an apocalyptic area, almost like The Walking Dead. Runners were here. It’s miles 13-14; the start of the half marathon…the very race I ran 12 years ago. For us, it’s the midway point. The weather has been perfect, the wind light, and sweat barely dripping. I’m doing well, almost too well. Could this be my day?

 

The higher the miles, the fewer of us there are. Our pack is now two. It’s just the pacer and I. How could I- with a hurt left ankle, and never ran more 20 miles, still be running well? It doesn’t make sense to me, but it doesn’t have to. We occasionally meet a runner that’s fallen back or one that’s racing ahead of us. Some stay for a bit, then we wish them on their way. 

 

We ran along the Deer Creek Reservoir and Bridal Veil Falls. The high waterfall and dam nearly meet us on our running path down the mountain. It looks peaceful and relaxed, just like our pace as both of us race down the mountainside. 

 

White mountains

Long waterfalls

Twisty pathways

Wooden bridges

Mile after mile

 

 

It’s now mile 18. I’m starting to feel the pain ever so slightly in my knees. At mile 19, a sign reads “The Wall” as we run under it. I tell the pacer, that’s the last thing I want to see. Mile 19 is known as the wall because that’s where runners start to struggle mightily on their marathon pilgrimage. But not us. We’re feeling great. We’re ahead of the pace we need to be at. Our breathing and sweating are minimal. The pacer and I exchange words and smiles knowing all too well how our marathon is going. 

 

After mile 21, a group of four of us round a turn and I’m greeted with a familiar face: my father. It’s at this point I realize, I’ve now ran further than I ever have and two: nothing beats the support of a loved one. My dad’s cheers chorus through the bike path. My frown reverses into a smile, my body straightens up, and my hand reaches out. I inch closer to him step by step. We give each other high fives. It’s the smiling and touch I need for two reasons. My mom couldn’t make the trip and the gruesome fact that I still have 5 miles to go. We’re feeling good! Could this marathon be that easy? Nothing is guaranteed, especially after 21 miles. 

 

After 22 easy miles, I start to slow down ever so slightly. Mile 23: a mile I won’t ever forget. I let the 3:00 pacer go in front of me. I run behind him thinking it’ll just be for a minute. It’s always just for a minute. That minute usually becomes the rest of the race for most runners. This is my wall. I am now tired. How could the easiest race I’ve ever run, become the most difficult. All the hard work I did is about to come crashing down. I don’t have it in me. I’m 20 minutes away from glory, but at this point, the next mile feels like an hour. I’m defeated. The marathon has won. My Boston Marathon qualifying aspirations are running further away from me. It’s at this point the pacer notices I’m losing him, my confidence, and my running form. He hollers trying to get my attention. I can’t hear him. He tries again, but I refuse to run faster up to him. This time, he comes back to the side of me. With a big smile on his face, he tries to cheer me up. Constant reminders of far I’ve ran and how little mileage I have still run are said. I look down at my palm. My handwriting with positive affirmations is written for this moment. It’s just one more hill. But it’s the hill we’re on. With the pacer by my side as the biggest support, we keep charging up the final uphill as if it’s a battle. It takes so much out of me. But I do it. Two miles to go.

 

At the top, it’s a sight to behold. No more hills. Provo, Utah skyline. BYU football stadium greets on the left. Then I notice a sight my eyes saw 12 years ago: the finish line banner. I ask the pacer, who confirms this. I’m feeling a little better. My pace quickens as the pacers encourages me to go ahead. I do! I dart for the finish line. To my surprise, my burst of energy quickly relapses, and I’m in pain again. My left knee, my tibia, both thighs are crying out in pain. With a mile to go I know what awaits me, but the pain is too much. I need to walk. I must walk. For a half a minute I contemplate this potentially costly decision. Then the flashbacks hit me, like they do with movie characters in the climax of the moment. My whole running career of triumphs and fails flashes before my eyes. I’m 3 and half minutes away from glory, but these last 3 miles have proven to the longest mentally and physically of my life. The wall is a real thing. I know what I must do. My heart chooses pain and glory over regret. I keep running, even as my pace is slowed down to nearly putting steps. I pass my dad cheering near the finish, not able to acknowledge him because of the pain I’m in. The pacer, who ran with me the entire race, is now caught up to me encouraging me from behind. I see the big blue arches: 2023 Utah Valley Finish line. Finally, I cross it.

 

I finish 2:58:32. I have finished my first marathon. I have hit the Boston Marathon qualifying time I need. Emotions rush over me. A marathon medal drapes around my neck. A variety of colorful liquids fill my lungs. My legs come to a standstill. I did it!

 

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            I intentionally never asked for the name of the man I sat next to on the bus nor the pacer I ran with the entirety of the marathon. To me it felt like those were my guardian angels. It was as if God placed those two angels (men) in my life to give me the confidence and strength I needed that morning. I don’t think I would’ve run well without having met them. I thanked both during the bus ride and after the marathon. With the outpouring prayers from friends and family afar, those two men, and my dad on the racecourse, the volunteers, I’m happy to say in my first marathon I hit the 18-34 Men Boston Marathon Qualifying time! My time doesn’t guarantee my marathon entry into the 2024 Boston Marathon, but it gives me an opportunity this September to enter it along with hopeful 30,000 runners. 

Relationships

As the video was playing, tears filled my eyes. I looked around the room, more tears and sobbing had filled our classroom. Minutes later, we all embraced in a hug one last time. Goodbyes were said. 

Our last day of 4^thgrade was over.

 

Every year I cry on the last day of school. It never fails. Despite this being one of my favorite years of teaching, I didn’t think I was going to cry despite how fun, respectful, and easy going my 4^th graders were. I had cried happy tears plenty of times during the year, I didn’t think I had any left. Sure enough, I cried…a lot. I cried during the class video I created captivating our year, during my final read aloud, and during our final goodbyes. Honestly, I cried in my car on my to and from school. This is a class I’ll never forget. 

 

After school, I received a text asking why do my students and I always cry at the end of the year? The answer was simple: relationships. It doesn’t always make sense that the majority of my students, even the challenging and quiet ones will cry, nor is a goal I strive for. It just happens. 

 

In school as a student, I was quiet. I did my best, most times just barely scrapping by. I didn’t have many friends. Honestly, I was bullied at times. I had respect for most of my teachers, but never knew them deeper. After becoming a teacher, I thought my relationships with my principals would be different than when I was student. But honestly, the students likely know the principals I’ve worked just as much as us teachers do. 

 

As a teacher, I vowed years ago to be the opposite for my students. Today, I like to believe that I have kept that vow. Students get the authentic me. They know my likes and dislikes, what I do outside of school, what YouTubers I watch, and so much more. They see my fun, serious, and sad sides. They learn my expectations for them don’t just apply in the hallways, but rather in their houses, neighborhoods, and communities. For our classroom, there’s a bigger purpose than just preparing for the big test at the end of the year. 

 

(On my birthday this year, my team surprised me with a Publix jamboree of gifts; including a shirt and hat…that I wore the rest of the day! Students knew I’m bigger fan of Walmart, but were taught a valuable lesson to accept and respect all gifts given to you.)

 

Relationships start with acknowledgement. They start when you first meet someone. You can only make a first impression once, so make it a good one. Smile. Make eye contact. When you see someone, give a pleasant greeting plus their name (if you know it). It’s not hard to do. You got this. You never know what that person is going through, a simple greeting might make all the difference in their day. It has for me. 

            Ask a question unrelated to their job. Asking someone what their favorite food or tv show are simple starters. There’s a million get to know you questions you could ask. Imagine if teachers took 2 minutes out of their day to ask one question per day to their class. Students would feel like their heard and more importantly, they’d see just how alike they are with their classmates. Now imagine how if principals did this at the start of staff meetings.

 

Listen to them. Their voice matters too. I often hear teachers say that it’s the students’ classroom; but how many of them let that phrase ring true. Let students talk. Give them choice. Let them make decisions that benefit them and their classmates. When you listen to the majority of the people you’re surrounded with (students), you’ll be surprised with how informative they’ll be. When you let their voice be heard, they’ll be more motivated…All I ever want to feel is that my voice is being heard at my school and in my classroom. The last few years I’ve left my classroom not feeling like it was my classroom. Like students, when admin listens to the majority and lets teachers do what’s best for their students, they’ll see incredible results and the culture will shift for the better.

 

You know what’s not on the list of building relationships surprisingly? Gifts. When I asked my students what they loved most about the school year, zero answers were: candy, random surprise toys, and Christmas presents. It got me thinking about all the gifts I was given by the school during teacher appreciation week. It didn’t feel authentic or meaningful. I rather have had 5 positive non-teaching related conversations with my principal during the 10 month school year, than receive gifts for one week.  

 

There’s a lot of ideas that teachers can do to build relationships: play with students, attend events, laugh with them, eat with them, share stories with them, positive phone calls and notes, throw confetti on them (my students personal favorite), participate in school dress up days, and so much more. Make the time to build relationships!