DENSE BREAST TISSUE ON VALENTINE’S DAY

Whole Foods Chocolates

Whole Foods Chocolates

Valentine’s Day is a day for chocolate, champagne and red roses.  Right?  Yes, well sort of!  This year, I would like it to be the year you give your loved one the gift of knowledge.  Knowledge that could save a life.  Knowledge about the dangers of dense breast tissue.  On January 24th, I gave a TEDx talk at the University of Nevada.  It was one of the proudest moments of my life.  So for this Valentine’s Day, I’m asking you to watch my talk, send it on to those you love and help me spread the message about dense breast tissue.  I was part of a day of knowledge at Microsoft Licensing in Reno recently and because of that day 2 women discovered they had breast cancer even though their mammograms showed NOTHING.  Women need to know their density.  Learn more by watching my talk.  Ok, I’m not a total Valentine’s Day buzz killer.  So here’s the deal!  Whole Foods now has some amazing chocolates.  They come in flavors like milk chocolate with cinnamon hazelnut cream, dark chocolate with caramel  and vanilla buttercream and milk chocolate with rich caramel.  An entire box of goodness is just 10 dollars!  But you can win one for free!!  Just watch my video and then make a comment or email me about how cancer has affected you.  I will pick the comment that means the most to me ON MONDAY in time for Whole Foods to get you your box of chocolates by Valentine’s day.  Good luck!!  (in case you can’t see my tedx talk below, here’s the link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lQPLMWuTlWQ

HOLIDAY DEPRESSION

Pretend I’m laying on a couch and you are sitting beside me with a pencil and notepad in your hands.  Yes, this is therapy.  And I’m going to spill my guts all over you.  I’m doing this because you probably suffer with the same thing I do.  I know this because I’ve had lots of conversations lately with people all complaining about the same thing as me.  Holiday depression. Ok, depression might be too strong a word.  Rut might be a better choice for you.  But whatever you’re feeling, you’re not alone.  I’m in the trenches with you.

I feel fat.  Yes, Wendy Damonte feels fat.  But what’s worse, I feel unmotivated to change it.  I’m eating like crap.  I’m drinking more than I typically do.  And all of these factors feed off each other making each individual problem worse.  And at the end of the day, there’s me;  a mopey, fat, unhappy slug who can’t change things.

Now… here’s what I think happens.  The holidays hit… and in my house, that means October 8th.  That’s my daughter’s birthday.  Somehow, she parlays that one day into a two-week ordeal. Always fun, always with lots of friends, parties and typically, with my family, lots of wine.  So now, it’s mid October and Halloween shows up.  Again, lots of pizza because we’re out late getting costumes, adding to costumes, tweaking costumes, etc.  Well hello November!  Now this is where I should suck it up and be as healthy as possible for at least the first two weeks of the month.  But the bad, unhealthy, fast food rut has already grabbed hold of me.  A nightly glass or two of wine is killing my morning motivation to work out.  And Thanksgiving is just 24 days away, so why try??  And then December hits and any chance of getting back to a normal, healthy routine flies out the window like Santa up a chimney.  At this point, I’m way too busy to even fit in a 30 minute workout.  My daily diet consists of grazing on the food table at work (yes, we have a food table at work that overflows with cookies, fudge, cake, See’s Candy… pretty much you name it… during December) and then eating whatever I can quickly throw together for dinner… think frozen lasagna!  And now, it’s the new year and I can’t move!

If I were to put all this into a cycle for you it would look like this:

We get busy… we eat like crap because we’re too busy to cook… we drink more because there are more parties… we start to feel fat… we wake up slightly hung over and that zaps all motivation to work out… we become depressed (get in a rut)… and once you’re depressed (in a rut)… this cycle repeats over and over again.  And eventually, we get sick… which is what I did on January 6th… the very day I was determined to stop the cycle.

20140109-163835.jpgSo you know what I did??  I went on a walk anyway!  I was hacking and coughing and wheezing the entire hour I was in the hills.  But you know what?  I wasn’t going to allow  myself to make an excuse.  Any excuse.  Even one coming from my phlegm laden lungs.  I had to start somewhere.  So instead of a run, I walked.   Instead of going for 2 hours, I went for one.  And you know what happened?  My body felt worse, but my soul felt much better!  I finally had an endorphin or two flowing through my body.  And you know what happened next?  I had a salad for lunch… and it tasted great!  By the time I got off work that night, I was exhausted because I was still fighting a virus, but I didn’t feel like a bowl of  pasta and a fishbowl of wine.  I ate lightly and went to bed.  And guess what?  The next day I woke up headache free.  I had motivation to fit in another quick workout (which I did on my windtrainer bike inside my house).  I’m laughing more.  My mood is lighter.  My depression is easing… in fact, it’s disappearing.  And it’s only been four days!  I’m now back on track.  So what’s your excuse?  Early morning meeting?  Go for a 10 minute walk if that’s all you can fit in.  You’re sick?  Reread the start of this paragraph… I don’t want to hear it!  You’ve got young kids at home? Figure out quick at-home workouts you can do.   (One of my favorite websites is www.marksdailyapple  Search that website for quick workouts!)  You’re too fat and out of shape to start?  You’re never too fat or unhealthy to try to make a chance.  Drink one less soda a day.  Eat donuts only once a month instead of weekly.  You have a leg injury?  Swim.  See, you can throw any excuse my way and I’ll come up with a healthy option.  Start today.  It doesn’t have to  be huge.  It has to be one step.

 

THE WORLD’S BEST COACHES

This past weekend, with the kids in tow, I drove down an unfamiliar ladder of switch-backs that ended in a shooting range in Carson City, Nevada. I was meeting a man I hadn’t seen in 30 years… and I was terrified of him.

The year was 1981. After church, my mom took Jer and me to sign up for the St. Mary’s CYO basketball teams. Jer signed up for the 5th grade team. I looked around for a 3rd grade team. There was only one. The all boys team. I looked up at my mom and shook my head. She looked down at me, shrugged her shoulders and said, “Give it a shot, Wendy.” So I did. I was 9 years old and to be honest, I looked like a boy. At Macy’s, whenever I asked a sales person where the bathroom was, I always got directed to the boys bathroom. So quite honestly, I figured maybe no one would notice I was a girl and I would fit right in. That was until day one of practice. The coach’s name was Bill Picton. He was an ex-marine and we were his new recruits. If you’ve ever seen the movie Great Santini, Coach Picton was our Great Santini. I was terrified of him from that first practice. He had these steel blue eyes that pierced through you with intensity. He yelled and slapped his hands until they were red when we didn’t set the right screen. He made us run endless lines as punishment for not making free throws. Once, when I didn’t block out boldly enough, he blocked me out so hard I flew off my feet. I was a girl playing in a way too tough boys world.  But my parents wouldn’t let me quit.  Bill Picton coached with the same passion he lived his life. With 100 percent of his being, he believed in integrity, hard work, dedication and fundamentals. And if you practiced the way you wanted to live, then you would be successful no matter what. And successful we were. I don’t remember exactly how many wins and losses we had, because those aren’t the things that stick with you later in life. It’s the moral lessons that do. And without warning, Coach Picton instilled in all of us 3rd graders life lessons we still carry with us today. One went on to be a NBA great. Another formed his own company to recruit the best corporate leaders in America. Another had the strength to survive the passing of his beloved dad at a young age and grew up to be an amazing father to 2 beautiful daughters. Sometimes your hardest experiences in life are the ones that teach you the most. Those were our days together on the basketball court.

And last weekend, I was just moments away from seeing Coach Picton.

I pulled up to the shooting range and, even though he was wearing dark glasses, I could tell it was his same steel blue eyes looking back at me. I got out of the car and was enveloped by a warm hug from a man I rarely touched in the three years I played basketball for him. Age had done amazing things for him. Although he still wore a Marines hat, his tone had softened. He was still a coach, helping my son and daughter shoot everything from a A-R 15 to a 40 caliber handgun. But he was a softer, more patient coach. And I got to sit and watch and observe a man who taught me so many lessons at age 10, teach my 9-year-old daughter and 8-year-old son new lessons. It was a beautiful circle completed.

Coach Picton told me one of our other teammates had found him online and sent him a message years ago. It said something like, “I’ve just watched a special on John Wooden’s teams and how special they were.  It reminded me of our team.  Thanks coach for making us the people we are today.” Coach Picton told me this story as he quietly held back tears. They were tears of pride someone can only feel from knowing they truly helped others in this world. Bill Picton’s “others” was a group of 10 year old boys and one girl who had no idea of the treasure who was coaching them. In the words of John Wooden, “Success comes from knowing that you did your best to become the best that you are capable of becoming.” Thanks in part to Coach Bill Picton, we all became that… the best we were capable of becoming.  And that’s what defines the world’s best coaches.   

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DEALING WITH GRIEF

church imageAs we walked to the news set the other night, I asked Kristen, my friend and co-anchor, “Do you ever cry in church?”  She laughed and said, “I’ll text you the first time I don’t cry in church.”   That made me feel better because last Sunday I had an extemely emotional experience in church and I wanted to know if I was crazy. Kristen assured me I wasn’t.

Last weekend, I ended up kidless on Sunday morning and so took advantage by going to church by myself.  Going to church alone doesn’t bother me.  It’s not like flying solo to a movie.  That does bug me.  But when it comes to church, I actually prefer to go alone.  I didn’t go to my church.  But instead traveled up to Lake Tahoe to visit St. Francis of Assisi. 

In 2004, we baptised our daughter, Eva Diana, at St. Francis.  Since then, it’s always held a special place in my heart.   And now, sitting alone in my pew, I was once again happy to be here.  When Father Bill entered I immediately sat up straighter.  His presence didn’t make me nervous, but rather more alert… like a freshman on the first day of class.  I wanted to truly understand the lesson I was about to hear.  And learn I did.

He asked us all to allow the Holy Spirit into our souls so that we could forgive those who trouble us the most.  The Holy Spirit would guide us in allowing our feelings of ill will to be replaced with love and eventual peace.  And when he said, “We need the power to deal with those that cause us the most pain…” my eyes immediately filled with water.

On December 21st, 2011, my best friend died.  4 days before Christmas.  She would have survived past the new year, but my brother and I gave her permission to go to the other side… and she did… that night.   I thought I was ready. I thought it would be best for her to move on to the next world. But I was wrong.  Living without my mom causes me daily pain.

As I glanced at Father Bill, trying to hide the tears that were now streaming down my face in a river of emotion,  I was horrified to admit the one person causing me the most pain was the one person who would never do anything, ever, to hurt me… my mom.   She would be so sad to know I struggle at the feet of her demise.  But I do.  We are coming up on her two year anniversary of leaving us and I still feel like that lonely kid who was forgotten at school.  I keep looking for her to come around the corner to get me. 

So with a deep breath,  I closed my eyes to allow the Holy Spirit into my core.  I breathed deeply several times to allow the warmth of his being to enter my soul.  And I felt… nothing!  Dammit!  So I sat there some more and waited.  And waited.  By this time my tears were drying up because I was getting irritated.  Where was the Holy Spirit when I really needed it??  I left church feeling a tad disappointed.

On my 40 minute drive home, I looked at they sky, still pale grey with smoke from the fire burning near Yosemite.  I thought how my mom would have complained about all the smoke.  She hated anything but bright sunny days in Reno.  And that thought alone broke me again.  New tears followed the dried stains already on my cheeks.  And this time, I allowed myself to sob.  To release some of the water that filled my emotional bucket.  I allowed myself to be angry.  I allowed myself to climb right up on that pitty chair and have a party.  And then it happened.  As I slowly pulled down into Reno off the Mt. Rose Highway, my tears dried up.  My anger floated away from me.  And a sense of warmth filled my body.  A warmth like I’ve never felt.  A warm blanket enveloping my heart.  And finally… peace. 

The magical spell lasted until I pulled into my driveway.  The chaos of my kids, now back at home, dulled the sense of warmth inside me, but I knew it was still there.  I had released some of the pain of my mom’s death.  I have a long way to go to be out of daily pain, but moments like that, where you connect with the Holy Spirit make me realize I will someday get there.

(note:  My Holy Spirit is the Divine Trinity.  What’s yours?  Is it Mother Earth?  Is it your own belief that doesn’t have a name?  Whatever, or whoever, you pray to, I hope you find peace in your God like I do mine.) 

A book that opened my eyes to the Divine Trinity is called The Shack.  It’s a fictional story, a good read, but man does it have a thought provoking kick to it! I HIGHLY RECOMMEND it:

 

WENDY’S WORKOUTS-THE LAST 3 WEEKS

In the last 3 weeks, I’ve worked out 3 days! Not very impressive for someone with a very long race coming up in 5 weeks. But whatever virus went through Reno 3 weeks ago, it found a cozy home in me and nestled in for a good solid 2 weeks. So last Monday I was finally able to get moving again. Here’s how my week played out:

Monday: Ran for 1 hour 15 minutes. I then rode my windtrainer for 50 minutes.

Tuesday: I mountain biked Galena with my Little Friend Lynn for 1 hour 30 minutes. This was supposed to be a 2 hour ride but I forgot my bike pump, my rear tire which I patched was of course flat, so had to drive all the way down the mountain to get my pump. Ever have days like that where you JUST CAN’T GET GOING???

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Wednesday: No workout, says my coach. My ass! I replied. I rode in the Reno Rodeo Cattle Drive today. I was on horseback for 8 hours! My coach said if I wasn’t on my bike it didn’t count. I need a new coach!

 

Thursday: Rode my windtrainer for 1 hour 30 minutes. Swam 3000 yards. Then I did this new workout called Tabata.  It’s 45 minutes of cardio interval training.  I did it for a story for work, but I’m still counting it for my personal workouts.  

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I had to cram a lot into Thursday, because  on Friday, I took my daughter to Denver to visit our friend Mackenzie. We did a food marathon there… but I’m sure my coach wouldn’t count that either!

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DONNER LAKE HALF

I’ve done it!  I picked my race!  I’m officially registered.  And I want to throw up.  Who knew officially registering for a race was such an emotional step.  I feel like I’m in middle school and I’ve just agreed to “go” with the hot guy I’ve had a crush on all year.   Because now what??  What does “going” mean?  Will he pick me up at my locker?  Will he hold my hand on the way to 3rd period leadership class?  Will he call me tonight or should I call him first?  There’s so much pressure when you’re officially “going”with your 14 year old boyfriend.  And that’s EXACTLY how I feel about this race.  Will it be too hard for me to finish?  Will it abuse me and just toss me aside for a real triathlete?  Will it laugh at me as I struggle to keep pace with other racers who obviously are more competent?  I feel like there are so many unknowns now that I know which race I’m doing.  I’m committed to the Donner Lake Half.  This is my “guy.”  No more flirting with other races.  No more googlie eyes at different distances.  I’ve agreed to “go”with this ONE race.  I’m now in a committed relationship.  At least I will be until July 28th.  So about 2 months. Yeah, that’s about how long the relationship lasted in 8th grade as well.  And I survived that one so I guess I’ll survive this one as well. 

The Donner Lake Half is a half Ironman distance triathlon.  1 mile swim, 56 mile bike ride and 13 mile run.  The swim will be in 65 degree water with wetsuits optional.  OPTIONAL??  WTF?  The only option is to wear a wetsuit in my book! 

The bike is 56 miles.  Not bad, except when you look at the elevation.  We ride up old highway 40 out of Donner Lake.  Here’s the elevation map… it sucks:

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The run is 13 miles.  THIS IS GOING TO REALLY SUCK.  It’s twice around Donner Lake.  Not bad, except the backside of Donner is extremely hilly.  Maybe not to your standards, but for this girl, the backside SUCKS.  And I get to do it twice.  The website doesn’t even give you an elevation map.  Need I say more??

Back in 8th grade, there were moments I wondered why I made this decision to “go” with said hunk.  And as of right now, I have those same regrets.  Aren’t there better guys (races) out there?  Aren’t other boys (races) more attractive?  Wouldn’t a less hot boy (race) be nicer to me?  STOP THINKING ABOUT IT WENDY!  You’ve made your up your mind, now go be a good girlfriend (athlete!).  I hope I chose wisely!

DR. TERERAI TRENT

20130530-171815.jpgI had the huge honor of meeting Dr. Tererai Trent today.  What?  You’ve never heard of her?  OK, to be honest, before today, I hadn’t either.  Even though she is Oprah Winfrey’s all time favorite guest.  She’s from Zimbabwe.  She wasn’t allowed to go to school.  She became a wife at age 11.  And by 18, she had 3 of her 5 children.  You know what kills me about that?  My daughter, Eva, is 9 1/2. I can’t imagine losing her to a man in just a year and a half.  As tears fill my eyes, let me tell you a bit more about Dr. Trent.  She believes in education.  And it was her determination for an education that set her free from a life of poverty in Africa.  Two weeks ago, she attended her daughter’s college graduation.  For most of us, that’s a given.  For her, it was a dream.  You’ll understand after watching this video by Oprah:

 

 

 

WENDY’S WORKOUTS 4-29 to 5-3

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Monday: Ran 2 hours and 50 minutes which turned out to be about 15 miles. Yes this was a big whoops! If you follow me on Facebook you can move ahead to Tuesday because you know the story. Monday morning I dropped my car off to get an oil change. It takes an hour. Perfect, efficient me thinks, I’ll run while its getting done. Well after running about 50 minutes I get a call. My mechanic says I need new brakes and my car won’t be ready for several hours. Well shit! What do I do? At that exact moment Eye of the Tiger comes on my iPod and I think, “hell I’ll just run home!” It’s the thrill of the fight, right?? So I take off running. 2 hours and 50 minutes later I’m finally home. Note to self: never plan on running during an oil change again!

Tuesday: So now that you know what happened Monday, you know I have to pick up my car. So I head out on my bike thinking it will take my 20 minutes to get there. Well some bad approximating and a gnarly headwind the entire ride… And I finally arrive 45 minutes later. I can’t win with this car deal! I also swam 45 minutes… 2000 yards.

Wednesday: My plan was to ride my wind trainer for 1 1/2 hours. But after 60 minutes I called it quits. I had nothing in the tank. Think I’m still recovering from Monday!

Thursday: Had a huge work day. No workout.

Friday: Ran 50 minutes on a treadmill then swam an hour. Swam 1500 then pulled a 1500.

Can hardly wait to see what mishap next week brings!!

 

WENDY’S WORKOUTS MARCH 9-15

Saturday:  Ran for one hour. Yay! I got a weekend workout in. Boo!! It was on a treadmill in Stockton, CA! 

Monday: Rode my windtrainer for 1 hour, again, in front of the TV with my boyfriend, Mr. Reese. And after admitting last week I had a crush on Mr. Reese, my husband asked me if he had something to worry about. Well, no, unless Jim Caviezel ends up in Reno, Nevada and doesn’t mind a middle aged broad with two crazy kids and a fluffy dog! Nope, nothing to worry about here!

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Tuesday: Swam 3200 yards. 2000 straight (yuck!).   And then 6X150′s on the 2:30 pulling. This I did with a man I’ve befriended at my pool. He’s from the middle east somewhere and said to me, “Vendy, I see yous going to svim a pooool set. Vants me to join you?”  I answered,  ”No problem amigo! Let’s do this!”    ”Hokay, Vendy, vee svim!”   He then proceeded to kick my ass!  After that, I ran on the treadmill for 30 minutes… because he got out and went home.  Take that Mr. “Vendy Yous A Gooood Svimer!”

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Wednesday: It was my hubby’s birthday so I snuck in a 1 hour wind trainer session with my boyfriend, Mr. Reese, before hitting the shooting range for a nice round of skeet and trap. No, I’m not counting the shooting as a workout!  Although it was truly an arm workout for me!  Darrin makes me point my gun at the sky first and then bring it down to shooting level.  That’s like doing 75 upside down push ups! 

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Thursday: Rode with my Little Friend Lynn outside!  The weather was beautiful! We rode hills, of course everything with her is hills.  We went for about 1 hour 40 minutes.

Friday: No workout. I took today off. I’m exhausted. Every workout this week was a struggle for me.  My life was hectic this week and my workouts paid the price.  It’s a hard lesson to learn, but sometimes the best workout is no workout at all… we need to listen to our bodies!

 

 

 

WHEN SHOULD YOU STOP RUNNING?

To answer the question about when to stop running, I had to seek out a Sikh.  And look…I found one!  Amazingly, Fauja Singh and I have something in common.   We run to save ourselves. We run because it’s our therapy.  We run because that’s how we deal with pain.  I lost my parents back to back.  He lost his wife and son back to back.  Both of us turned to training to continue living life.  At one point, we both faced a fork in the road.  The path to the left led to depression, saddness, hopelessness.  The path on the right lead to peace, therapy, hope.  Fauja and I CHOSE the right path.  We CHOOSE to stay on that path.  Every day, we all make decisions.  Fauja and I make a conscious decision to live a life where endorfins flow freely through our bodies lifting our spirits, our hearts, our minds and our sights.  I do believe the path of depression would be easier.  But it’s not the right path.  The right path is hard and takes determination and grit.  But if an 89 year old man can choose to stay on that path for more than 10 years, I have a lifetime ahead of me on the right path.  And in the end, running saved Fauja’s life… just like it’s saving mine.  So I guess the answer to the question of when you should stop running is simple.  When you’re 101. 

 

101-year-old vegetarian runner completes his final marathon

, NBC Sports

Feb 25, 2013, 11:00 AM EST

2013 Hong Kong Marathon Getty Images

Fauja Singh, the oldest runner ever to complete a full marathon, finished his final race on Sunday, and now will hang up his competitive running shoes for good. From now on, Singh, who will soon be 102 years old, will run just for fun, “to inspire the masses.”

Singh ran in the 10k division of the Hong Kong Marathon, and completed the 6.25-mile race in 1 hour, 32 minutes, 28 seconds.

The Indian-born runner, nicknamed the Turbaned Torpedo, took up running at the age of 89 to help with his grief when both his wife and son died. A great-grandfather, he unofficially became the oldest man to run a full marathon when he ran in Toronto in 2011, at the age of 100. But he is not recognized by the Guinness Book of the World Records because he doesn’t have a birth certificate. Danged birthers.  “I will remember this day. I will miss it,” Singh said minutes after crossing the finish line.

Singh completed nine full marathons after the age of 89.